Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘dog’

The youngest boy here, JCountryGuitarMan, discovered today that it does not take any liquor at all for my daughter, Tes, who calls him bronephew (he is her brother and her nephew, because he is my grandson and my son for the last seven years, anyway.) But, it does not take any liquor, at all, for the two of us to laugh hysterically for hours.

Had the most wonderful day. It started with a phone call from her, “Gee, mom, I’m camping in your neighborhood.  Now, first, this seems like a strange thing to me.  The woman teaches science and math at four institutions.  She’s no dummy, but she made reservations for Monroe Reservoire three months ago and just realized that she is like less than twenty miles from my house?

Whatever the case, I’m glad she realized it, called and invited us to join them.  I have my millions of projects that have to be done so passed at first, but she continued to text me and when I found out she had walked down to the water from her campspot, I was in like sin.  I love water.  Water energizes me.  I was not passing up floating for the day.

So, off we went, husband, JCountry, and me.  We played with their dog ‘Mia,’ who has, as her vet put it “Jazz hands” (or paws.)  I mean, this is one really energetic puppy.  She treats children as if they are popsickles/suckers.  She’s one handfull of dog.

The water was wonderful but I think someone was trying to send me a message, as Turkey buzzards kept circling overhead.

Has to be one of my best days ever, and I’m sorry I forgot to post this timely, but still had to share it.

Read Full Post »

It seems, sometimes, that the world just likes to taser us with a jolt of adrenalin.  Mine, as I have written about lately, usually comes in the mail as a highly inflated bill.  I shared some stories this week about my own personal “really high” bills, so I thought I would let you know the outcome of the latest one; the power/propane bill.

 

I never, ever, ever, in my life want to open a bill and see that I owe $1,200 ever again.  But, I have to tell you that this shows me how kind the world can be.  We phoned for energy assistance, expecting to be told, as we so often are, that we make just a smidgen too much to qualify.  At the best I would have been delighted to come out of it with $200 help for this bill.  Instead, we received a monthly stipend for the coming months and a large amount of help for this month.

 

In the lifetime of my family, father to daughters, I could count on one hand the assistance we have received.  My father’s mill was on strike once when my two daughters and I lived with my parents.  It was difficult for him to do but he applied for, and got some food stamps.  He would never have done it for just himself and my mom, but he wasn’t going to see these little girls without milk.

 

I have worked most of my life and supported my children, on my own, for much of it.  I’m not used to getting help and it was a hard thing to do.  When my husband became disabled, it was tough, even applying for reduced lunches for the boys was tough, but, it is so nice to know that there is help out there for you when times are tough.  You really feel a little less alone in the world.

 

The woman at the assistance office has referred us to another agency, and told us to call back at the end of March for their office, for assistance in upgrading this windy house.  The other night, I taped up the back door with (please don’t tell the post office) with Priority mail tape.  I could feel the wind blow through so bad from upstairs.  Of course, the dog then spent some time barking on the stairs because she thought someone, with the shape of an x on their face was trying to break in.  I had put an x on the window to warn EMT that the door was taped shut. 

 

Gee, is their assistance to get the dog glasses?

Read Full Post »

Long, long ago, when Master’s daughter was a young, married, stay-at-home, mother of just one (this was before she became a Master’s teacher of children, mother of one bear like husband, one military son, two electrician sons), she had time.  She had time to decorate cakes, houses, make gravy starter (funny Thanksgiving story) and to sew.  She sewed Halloween costumes and, given the week is Halloween week  (Notice how it is no longer a one day holiday? ), I thought you might to see some of her handiwork.

 

 

 

To explain this picture:  There is a pumpkin to collect candy, a child barely bigger than the pumpkin who is dressed in a bear costume and the light brown/tan furry thing is actually a dog. 

 

 

This was my dog, then my mom’s dog (we do not actually mean to trade dogs in this family, but it does happen as you move and cannot take the dog with.)  This one was a little thing and really ornary with buggy eyes.  She was also, agreed upon by most of the family, to be a rather ugly dog.  My mom adored her 

 

 

Here, child sitting on the porch, has gotten bored by the whole costume, pose, dog thing and fallen asleep.  Whereas dog is thinking, “Why the heck is that kid sleeping on MY porch in a fur suit?  Don’t they know that is my job?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Child grows, as children do.  I have one more, a fantastic dragon costume, but I have to scan it in yet.  Perhaps I should have titled this blog: Thoughts of a Proud Grandma.

Read Full Post »

I did forget a story mom told Master’s daughter and myself, before she fell asleep in the motel. 

 

She and dad were visiting a relative many, many years ago and dad was very upset because their shaggy dog was drinking from the toilet

 

Picturing the state of the toilet, I could see this might seem gross to him. Our dog’s dish was washed regularly.  And, dogs like to lick their owners. So, I can see where that might gross out my obsessive parents.

 

But, mom said that was not it.  The truth, she told us, was:

 

“He was afraid to get dog hair on his butt.”

 

 

I shall leave you there with all sorts of visions in your head, as Master’s daughter and I dissolved into laughter at the possibilities.

Read Full Post »

Monday night, the sky was a quilt of clouds.  I could see the sky blue stitching in between the shapes.  It shows a bit in the upper left corner. Now, if it would not have been midnight, when I let the dog out, and saw this sight, I would have grabbed my tripod, but no, I shot it free hand and so this is all I have to offer.  The moon was full too.

And, then there is the matter of the irritating little Chihuahua sleeping with her head buried under the blanket.  I guess she did not want to be disturbed.

And, finally, just why is the visiting rabbit (Charlemagne) sitting in her dish???  She has a food and a water dish, and I used to put lettuce and carrots in this one, but she much prefers to sit in it, so now the most I put in is a bit of chewable hay.

Read Full Post »

I was killing time this morning, like I have so much extra to kill, well, I really do, I just don’t want to do what I should be doing with it.  Somehow, I think this sentence has way too many commas in it.  I copied and pasted it to MSWord and they are not offering any corrections, so any editor/agents out there, just pretend I meant to do that—Stream of consciousness thing and all.

 

 

 

Anyway, in killing time this morning reading all the neat blogs about Sarah Palin and now I have added an Alaskan blog *Mudflats* to my daily read.  Who could resist this information?   Okay, now that’s another thing you agents/editors need to ignore—my politics.  I was actually going to write about an email I received from a friend, who is so stressed out about the state of politics, I fear for his sanity, but then I remembered that I am not supposed to write about anything controversial.  Ooppps!! Too late for that.

 

 

 

Anyway, again, I only got as far as C’s, in my daily blog troll.  *Cranky Fitness* provided this morning’s blog inspiration with her list.  First, I have to say, who can resist a blog with cupcakes as its banner?  Okay, a nice piece of wedding cake might be better for us cake connoisseurs.  Since her blog is about fitness, I’d say this whole cake thing is off limits; except on your birthday.  Or when you go to a wedding.  Or on the Ides of March. Or—–

 

 

 

This, cakes and lists, is something I have in common with *Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine and the Needles of Doom*.  This is the team who has a whole blog, nearly  (I haven’t read the whole thing yet) made up of lists; and, I know for a fact that one of them would join me in my cake quest or possibly in doing many unmentionable things to Viggo Mortensen.  

 

 

Back to the lists: I find I do get more things done when I make lists. When I was doing Body for Life faithfully, I think it was the fact of having a chart to fill out for exercise and also for what I ate. Those were lists that kept me on track; and away from cake.

 

 

 

Now-a-days though, my lists look something like this.

 

1. Six am  do dishes- no room for dishwasher in this blasted house.

2. Seven am wake boys

3. Feed visiting rabbit and clean the poop out of her food and water dishes.  What is her problem?

4. Water dog, then take her for a walk in the yard and to water the garden.  Talk lovingly to baby watermelons. We will be so drowning in watermelons at some point.  Tomatoes are just starting to get red.  I may go on a tomato and watermelon diet.

5. Call the class ring company and order a replacement for JRockGuitarMan’s class ring.

6. Remind JRock that I will have his hide if it ever disappears from his finger again.

7. Tell EMT Boy he looks good in suit of visiting son, Starky

8. Tell Starky he looks good in cowboy hat, boots, shirts and jeans of EMT boy.  (Hey, they get worse as Halloween gets near.  One year we gave them a box of costumes for Christmas and it was their favorite gift.)

9. Go to mom’s town tomorrow: see vet (for dog pills, not for me), go to license bureau (for mom’s handicapped tag), help her with pacemaker check by phone (which she can do on her own), out to eat (always) grocery store, farm stand for tomatoes and watermelon since mine aren’t ready to pick yet. (never buy a watermelon at Marsh — worse one I ever had). 

 

 

 

I have stretched my limits of punctuation and patience in this blog, so am off to work on my novel to bed.  I shall put my headphones on and listen to Harry Potter yet again.  I have been listening to the CD’s for three years now.  Since memoiries from my last visit in Wyoming roll around in my head too often at night.  The CD’s only put me to sleep because I have them memorized by now. So, new books on tape only work when I am painting or throwing pottery and want to be reading.  Music doesn’t work either.  Both of them just make me stay awake to hear more.  But, my brain calms right down with the soothing voice of Jim Dale.

 

 

 

Sleep well!

Read Full Post »

It’s one of those days, when I will never finish anything.

I noticed I never posted Day 2 – Of our move from Wyoming, and it’s not happening today. Oh Well!

I watched about 10 minutes of news and turned off the tv. That’s actually a good thing.

I did two minutes on the treadmill. That’s NOT a good thing.

I read two more pages of Terry Pratchett’s The Color Of Magic. Okay, he’s funny and I really want to like it but couldn’t we just lose some of the made up words??

I posted mom’s daily poem for her on her blog. Padairvanvleck’s Weblog. I post her poems for her, send her copies of the comments and she is enjoying the comments a lot. She gets kind of lonely in her apartment so the blog helps a lot.

I did the dishes, all five of them. Pizza last night is so nice on the dirty dish front.

The dog finally got her butt up and went out and I have a stack of paperwork on the floor that is increasing in volume relative to the National Debt.

Did read a few blogs.Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine and the Needles of Doom being one of my favorites, but who can think of 101 consecutive things. That’s a long term project.

And, that’s my morning. Hope yours is going well.

Read Full Post »

Mom needed medicine today. (Gosh, I so wanted to write Medication there, but I guess that’s me who wanted that.) So, I drove over to Martinsville, dropped off mail, picked up heartworm pills (for the dog, not for mom) and then went to mom’s apartment. I try to multi-task on these days, like everyone else is with gas prices being what they are.

 

She bought me breakfast and I learned the man next door to her was not arrested for selling marijuana; he was arrested for public intoxication. He was outside the apartment building threatening to kill everyone, which I thought was very optimistic for a man in his eighties. I worked on mom’s computer a bit, she has essential tremor and things tend to get moved around without her meaning to, I phoned the cable company (Comcast decided too many elderly ladies spent Saturday watching the whole week worth of soap operas, so they took it away and want to charge her $10 for it. Then, I took her to Kroger’s pharmacy trailer, as the store is still being remodeled from the flood and is closed, and then Marsh’s.

 

The point of this is that I did not get home until 4 p.m. The house, which normally houses six full size humans, was quiet but that’s not unusual, as husband takes a lot of naps, youngest boy is actually a vampire so he sleeps days, middle boy has not been seen yet from the Native Sun Dance Festival, and older boy and his girlfriend work afternoons. He is also a vampire, it’s a heredity thing.

 

So, I get home at 4 p.m. Let irritating Chihuahua out, put a smattering of groceries away and go online. About 5 p.m., I let Chihuahua out again and it dawns on me that all the cars are missing. So, I have been home for one solid hour, all alone, house to myself, and not realized it. 

 

But, then again, I was home for one hour, walked to the door three times, before I noticed that irritating Chihuahua had vomited up two gobs of food the approximate size of Rhode Island. Perhaps that is why I am home alone. Now that it is cleaned up, they can all come back. Drats!!!

Read Full Post »

It is not really that Mom’s irritating little chihuahua is boss of the family. It’s more a matter of her having us trained. She does not like the time I spend on my laptop. She has a way of lifting your hand and insisting she gets petted.

We had a mouse problem for the first few years we were here, so I put chihuahua’s food in a clear plastic shoe box, with a lid to cover it at night. This also allows chihuahua enough food to feed her in the eventual disappearance of all humans in the world. However, she will starve because there will not be a human available to scoop the dog food to one end, every morning. 

Apparently, she sees the little inch deep hole she eats from each day, to be the end of the food. Actually, she doesn’t see the dog food as food at all. She sees it as something to drop all over the floor and chew loudly to impress upon us how she is reduced to eating disgusting dog food, and why have we not roaster her a chicken lately.

There are three adults and one teen in the house at this time; plus two visitors. Irritating little chihuahua has decided that she controls the area where the kitchen flooring touches the frontroom carpeting and you must pay a toll, to her, when you cross over. She will sit up and do her best to look innocent and hungry. Middle boy falls for this everytime. Younger boy pretends to be the “hard guy” so he won’t give in. He is, however, the first one to brag that the chihuahua has climbed into bed with him if I am gone for several days in a row.

We each have our uses: Older boy is the master of belly rubs. Middle boy, and visiting girl, are the suckers who will always hand out a treat. Younger boy and husband are to let her out, although there are days when I am the only one allowed to. Husband is also the chicken cooker. My role in life is to be at her disposal, 24/7, and her bed. And, when she visits her original master, mom’s job is to hold her and protect her from evil me.

We have two couches in the frontroom and little chihuahua has declared one to be a petting zone; so if you lay down on it, your arm must come down over the edge and pet her.

Then, there are the signals. She would not want us to get too complacent. For a while, she would sit up and beg. You would ask her if she had to go out and she would shake her whole body no and then go to the door. So, no meant yes. Now, no means no to outside and yes to treat. Some weeks she fools us by actually going to the door and really meaning it.

I have to go now. Irritating chihuahua says it is time to pet her.

Read Full Post »

Oh, those of you out in Blogland, you are being misled by the ready wit of Braindebris. But, I am here to tell you, that she wasn’t always such a cheerful, happy person.   
 

 

While daughter of eleven had a wooden box to pile her toys in. She was born with a touch of the pig in her and it was the only way to be able to walk across her room, Master’s Daughter a/k/a BrainDebris was born with a touch of the compulsive side of our family.

Being two years older than other daughter, and being obsessive about keeping everything she ever got her grubby little hands on (Do you remember those Post-It Note Wills she puts on our possesions?, she had a tad more stuff than other daughter bothered keeping. In fact, Master’s daughter’s room, by the time she entered kindergarten, consisted of three walls of shelves full of “stuff.” And, pity the person who moved any single item on these shelves. But, I skip ahead. 

Never mind the pile of toys, her first Christmas she stole the dog’s new rawhide bone and was very upset about giving it back. Now, this dog was not the friendliest dog in town. He was known to chew up little girls and spit them out. He did have a soft spot for her but, darn it, he wanted his bone back. 

 

 

 

 

 

She wasn’t even too picky about where she got her drink either

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 And, if you wonder just why the tent looked like it did, see what BrainDebris did to our tree.  

We were ending a visit to my mother’s house one day, when Braindebris was about two years old. 

“Time to pick up your crayons, dear.” 

“No.” 

“Braindebris, pick up your crayons. We have to go.” 

“NO.”

“Braindebris, you pick up those crayons right now.” 

“NO.” 

Whereupon, I put my hand over Master’s daughter’s hand and began picking up the crayons. Notice here, that “I, began picking up those crayons.” Brain Debris’ hands were cradled in mine, but trust me, the little bull head did not do one bit of picking up that day.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.