Ohhhhhh, yes he did....

It's a real good thing Benji is back in Nash as he borrowed my car while he was here, and spilled booze in it.  Yep...my car now smells like the Boozemobile.  And yesterday I heard a weird clanking sound and wasn't sure where it was coming from, so I started the hunt.  Bingo...the trunk, and two bottles of remaining booze, thank you very much.  Since I ran out of time and energy yesterday, today's mission is to head for the car wash to remove the scent of Eau de Booze.  Fred's solution was just to leave the windows open...I'm having the carpet cleaned AND the car washed.  When I commented to Benji on the new fragrance, he wanted me to know he had "washed it (drive thru) and filled it with gas".  Yeah...nice job....the spill was on the inside, though, and we both laughed.

I have started my Christmas decorating and if nothing else, it should assure anyone visiting that I indeed have some form of ADD.  I started doing the mantle in the den but then got distracted looking at old pictures and  I haven't been back to the mantle since.  My Christmas juices usually take awhile to get going so I figure I'm actually ahead of where I usually am around this time of year.  Rationalization is great, isn't it?  And in a moment of true Christmas heresy, I am once again not putting up the big tree and I probably never will again. 
I always hated those small trees and thought they were soooo chuuuky until I had to put up a big one, year after year.  Now, I loooooove those little trees.  No muss, no fuss.  It works great in our big den for Christmas morning and unless I get a wild hair to change things, I put it back in the closet fully decorated, for the next year.  I call it Christmas a la easy.

I realize we have another month left to go but I've decided I'm already ready for a new year.  This past year has been a real doozie for lots of us, so I'd like to just fast forward to 2011.  I'm ready for some consistent cold weather and then some spring blooms, new leaves, new grass, etc. 

And lastly, I think my mantra for the holidays is going to be "Let it Go, Let it Go, Let it Go" sung to the tune of "let it snow, let it snow, let it snow". 

 

Adios Dinner

Last night was the Adios Dinner for my brother and his wife, at El Frequence (El Fenix).  What started out as just family, quickly morphed into almost family, with the waiter finally begging the stragglers to leave at 9 PM, so he could go home.  Welllllll....it just ain't a party if they don't beg you to leave, now is it?  My sister and I both had to shag out early for our respective runs to DFW--she was picking up at one terminal and we were dropping off at another, so all thoughts of one run flew out the window.  Plus, we were stopping by to pick up Andrea, Benji's GF, so that really wouldn't fly since we needed to go in, do the howdy with her mom and dad, meet their dog, Stella, and then head out.  Truthfully, it worked just fine...neither my sister or I could stand the thought of another bite of anything.  I realize that's blasphemy when speaking about Mexican food but I was one chip away from a food coma.

Now that the holiday is over, I'm aware of just how great it feels to get life back to normal, whatever that looks like at your house.  At mine, it just means back to my usual little schedule, and while holidays are fun for not having a schedule, there's just something comforting about getting back to the same old same old.  I guess it's that I both love and hate, structure.  It makes me feel safe, and yet sometimes I want to fight it.  Like a teenager.  And, I'm almost 57.  Please.

Lastly, here is a MLS shot of my brother's rental for the next two years.  Nice digs.

Lookey, heah...

Yesterday afternoon was just a blast.  After returning from Wide Awake Wylie, I decided it was the purrrfect day for a white trash fire on the driveway in my fire pit, with the puppies as my guests.  As long as I didn't have to keep chasing them out of the alley, or repeatedly retrieve Sis from Freddy's house, it would be superb.  And it was.  Freddy is Sis's BF and the cutest guy around and he would have been welcome to join us, chaperoned, of course.  I just don't want Sis getting a reputation always ho'in around at his house. 

This is the first year I can think of that I've had a fire inside, before having one outside, in my pit.  Some of the branches we lost in the last storm came in mighty handy, since they catch fire so much more quickly than my mini tree logs.  A fat wood stick, some leaves and a match was all it took to put me in bid'ness.  Shoooweee .... it was wonderful.  A blue sky, trees leaves every color imaginable, and sunning, snoozing pups.  The crackle, the pop, the smoke smell .....pure deee heeeeaven.  What more could a gal ask for?

  One of my neighbors, Sue, came by down the alley to see what I was doing and stayed to chat for quite awhile.  Her plan was to do her exercise walk but I think the allure of the fire pit got her.  Sue is an identical twin and retired school teacher who lost her sister, Ann, to breast cancer several years ago.  The two of them were inseparable, never married, and lived together all their lives so I was worried about how Sue might fare after Ann's death.  It took her a little while to grieve but then Sue hit the ground running and has remained one of the most positive people I know.  She loves to hike, travel, work in her yard, and has the highest squeakiest voice you've ever heard and for a really tall gal, it's just NOT what you'd expect to hear, coming out of her mouth.  I think she's from the deep, deep, South somewhere so that makes her accent even more hilarious.  She is a treasure.
I closed up shop right about the time the sun dropped down, the breeze picked up, and it started getting chilly.  I'd brought my O magazine outside with me to read, so technically, Oprah hung with me yesterday, too.  Not a shabby afternoon by a long shot.

Whew...

It's a day and a half after Thanksgiving and my cupboards are bare.  Between Fred taking food to the Ranch, and Benji hosting los amigos at the Farm, there's nothing but cold air in my frige.  Ditto the freezer.  Pizzas, eggs, bacon, sausage, rolls, turkey, you name it-- all hiked it out the back door.  And I love it.  Nothing makes me feel worse when I'm already FOF (full of food), than a stuffed refrigerator.  Ahhhh, I feel like I just walked 5 miles. 

My assignment this morning is to drive Brian to Wylie to pick up his Jeep.  He decided since he's no longer riding motorcycles, a CJ-7 sounded like a grrrrrreat idea.  I'm thinking not so much, but at 29, he gets to make those decisions for himself.  He knows how I feel since when he pulled up in our driveway, prior to having it worked on, I walked right past it, like it was invisible.  No comment.  Nuttin'.  Ahhhhh, the power of not saying anything.  He got it---loud and clear---and just sat there.  Neither one of us said a word. What's the old saying.....silence is golden?  Yeahhhhh, buddy.

Yesterday I went for a well deserved (I think) massage at 5 PM and then came home, showered, ate, and fell into bed.  With everyone gone, I put the pups to bed early and was asleep by 9:15pm.  What a dud... but today I feel grand.  I have a favorite massage therapist that I always request at the Massage Company and yesterday, in addition to a blissful massage, she gave me a Christmas stocking filled with goodies, as a thank you for being one of her "regulars".  Please.....how kind and thoughtful can you get.  And once I got home, I tore into it like a five year old on Christmas morning.  Let's face it....there's a little kid in all of us.

Wiggins is snoring below me in his bed, with sun shining in on him from the window beside me.  What a life.  Sixteen years of being treated like a dog King.  No wonder he's lived so long.  Sis is in my chair, hogging as usual, and patrolling all actions in the front yard. She just missed seeing two squirrels on the same tree out front, luckily for me, and I'm not gonna tell her.  Ohhh, noooo....they're back....and burying acorns right near us with their tails flicking...it's the tails that really get her....and the chirping.....they love to taunt her.  I'm glad she and I agree:  the only good squirrel is a dead squirrel.

TG dinner a la Sis and Wigman

If you think you ate a lot for TG, you should see what Sister put away.  She's been sneaking Wig's food for the last two days in preparation for the "big feed", I guess.  And, yes, they did get some turkey with their dog food, with a tad bit of juice, prior to that juice becoming gravy.  Since Sis is a non drinker, I had to wait before adding a little wine to the gravy, for flavor, and then cooking it down. Wig is all about the turkey but he is a juice man, too, and he likes to be able to lick a little off the top, so there's no skimping with him, or you will hear about it.

I have no doubt they would both eat dressing and rolls, lightly buttered, but we didn't go there.  I feel sure Sis has gained back the pound she lost when she wasn't feeling well and, boy, can I relate.  They look like two fat little sausages, on legs.  She also has taken over another of my things---a year or so ago I ordered a wonderful white throw that I loved for it's lightweight and soft comfy puffiness.  Brian loved it when we had him here, post crash, and I almost lost it to him, back then.  Now, Sis has decided she likes it.  I keep it on top of the ottoman in the TV room so if you get sleepy or chilly, you can snuggle up.  Well, so much for that idea since now Sis stands up on her hind legs, nudges it off onto the floor, and then roots and snoots it around into a bed, for herself.  I kept wondering why I was always finding it on the floor....and now I know.  Fred thinks she's: 1) the smartest girl in the world 2) the funniest dog ever.  Yeah, well.....we'll see how he feels when she moves in on his fly rod.

Benji rolled in about 7 AM after a night on the town and set off our pack of attack "lickers."  His Rock and Roll world just rocks mine half to death.  Luckily for him, cleaning Maria is out of town and won't be here today so he can snooze as long as he wants.  How nice for him.

Leftovers anyone??

The food's been eaten, the arteries are clogging,  the dishes are done, and can I get an amen on that one, thank you very much.  It was a fast and furious trip to the Farm and back, and that one is in the can as well.  Since Bruce stayed behind to sight in his gun with his brother, he'll snag a ride home with Cowboy John, wife Karen, son Payton, and John's dog, Mollie. 

As I smoked it up Northwest Highway on my way home, I dropped by to see mom.  She had been to the Country Club with my brother and his wife and man oh man, did I get an earful from my brother.  Yada, yada, yada....deeee duh.  All stuff we three siblings already know, but he got a big old up close and personal opportunity to deal with himself.  All I kept saying was "Yep...yep...yep...been there."  I finally just asked " But was the food good and did you enjoy it?" and he said "Yes...it was beyond beautiful and the food was superb."  So, by the end of our conversation, I reminded him of what he'd just told me....that despite the pain and frustration of watching our mother slide downhill at a pretty good clip, he'd had a lovely lunch with her for Thanksgiving, and what a great memory he now had to tuck away.  I hate to sound like such a happy mouth but sometimes whining, pain, and negativity only get me so far before I'm ready to see some positives--and FAST.  I have to laugh, or I go crazy.

So, I told him when I'd been over setting up her new phones the other day, that she had told me "here...here's the phone...come get this..." and she was serious.  It was the remote to her TV.  And I had laughed the whole way home.  He... like... to... died.  Laugh or go nuts...it's a choice.

SuuuuuperMan

Last night, I was saved by Superman.  I think when he came in the back door and saw me, he realized somebody had hit the wall.  HARD.  It didn't hurt, either, that he'd read this blog before coming home and already knew what all had happened.  And, I still had on the sooty shirt.....  And was probably holding a butcher knife.  Case closed.  He carved up the turkey and even remembered to save the drippings, for gravy.  As I staggered toward the shower I had barked out instructions so thank God, for once, he was listening.  I'll deal with all that later today.  The funny part?  I had bought one of those tin disposable turkey pans and Fred washed it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I don't have to heart to tell him he could have just tossed it.  And so much for me proselytizing about not getting too tired and how my plan was to take a nap each day this week.  So far, I am 0 for 2.  OK...progress not perfection.  I'll try to take one today.

Sis is almost regal in her fresh bathed suit and is eyeing the clock, waiting for Benji to arrive.  Wiggins is fresh also, and much more low key, snoozing in the bed underneath me.  I can hear his slow lazy breathing as he drifts off to snooze land.  Sis is behind me, as always, dreamily watching the wind blow outside and the leaves dance.  She's down to a half open eye, so sleep isn't far away.  Oooops...not so fast.  Two old yellow labs and their mom just shuffled past and Sis let out her "get off my grass" throaty growl.  I swanny....I think my puppies have to be at the top of my list of things I am grateful for....they just always make me laugh.

To all a Happy and Thankful Thanksgiving.  I have so much to be grateful for it's staggering.  Sometimes the things that make me the craziest are the things that also just happen to appear on my gratitude list.  Funny how that works.  If you are in a bad space, make a gratitude list.  And then go be of service to someone else.  It works every time.

Happy TG to all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have lost it-- again

I am soooo over it I could just scream--- and I already did outside in the backyard.   Do not say BGE to me for at least a week or I may foam at the mouth.  I lit my Egg, it seemed to be ready, on went Ms. Turkey Hen, and I could not get it to 350 degrees to... save.... my life.  I took her off.  I added charcoal, and let it burn.   I used the leaf blower to getter' going and the heat would shoot.  I'd slide on the turkey, shut the lid, and wait.  Tick...tick...tick...it would hover around 300 degrees but climb no higher.  I opened vents.  I closed vents.  Nothing changed.
  So, I finally called in the heavy artillery--Judy at Jackson's Lemon Avenue Pottery.  She was with a customer so after I hung up, I threw such a rod in the backyard that I added the rest of the bag of charcoal and almost totally smothered the fire.  And then I screamed cuss words at the top of my lungs  Mature, no?  I even dug some remaining charcoal out of the bag with my hand.  My entire right arm, and my shirt, was covered in soot, so I tried to take a picture of myself with my camera on my phone, looking in a mirror.  And then, I was laughing too hard..... and then I got MAD.  Shittttttt.

Our poor turkey already looks like it's been to Afghanistan and it's not even cooked.  I turned on the oven, and decided who ever got to 350 degrees first was doing the job, and the oven WON.  I am almost berserk and it's only Tuesday.....this is not good.

Pat Downs

I have a burning question here and don't know who to ask so I'm asking you all: What happens to flights if some fliers refuse a TSA pat down, therefore delaying a flight from leaving the gate, when others who passed through Security either by x-ray, wand or pat down, are sitting on the plane, being delayed, because somebody else is throwing a freak out fit?  Now, I'm no genius but I say shut the damn plane door and let's go, and anybody who is unhappy can just stay their ass on the ground.  Please...I'm all for equal rights and if you want to go, then do the damn security check.  IF you happen to look like a terrorist, be a pantie waist, or otherwise not be able to handle it, stay home or drive, but don't make the rest of us late. 

So far, it doesn't appear that any airlines are having problems and I hope that continues--especially since tomorrow is National Opt Out day.  And I'm not thinking these TSA people are exactly enjoying patting people down....can you even imagine the grief those people get?  OMG.  And the looks?  Oh, Lordy.  It's got to be bad, and it's not like they are copping a feel on you....it's their job.  Is there a better way to do this?  Undoubtedly.  And I think they are trying to come up with one so for anyone flying tomorrow, be nice.  Or, enjoy it, if that's how you roll.

DWTS

Dancing with the Stars.  I hate it.  And I'm watching it as I type.  I'm hooked and I don't want to be.  I even called in last week, and know I personally saved Jennifer Gray's bacon.  I used all my calls to keep her there and was glad to see Brandy hit the street.  I had to see Bristol, though, tonight, and I think being poked in the eye with a sharp stick would have been preferable.  And yet, here I sit......I have totally lost it.

That was last night and I still and laughing over my desire to see Jennifer Gray take home the Mirror Ball trophy.  I figure any fifty something whose body still looks and moves like hers, should win on that basis alone.  Even Kyle Massey was great and has nuthin' to be ashamed of  if he doesn't win.  I'd even be OK with that. He's adorable and has worked his tail off.

Now as for turkey central, my gal is swimming currently and has been since yesterday afternoon, in her brine filled swimming hole.  Since my favorite cooler sprouted legs and is most likely at Brian's or in Nashtown, I had to improvise and let me just say that a double bagged trash bag filled with brine and ice, per the directions, and shoved in a regular cooler with those keep frozen cooler things on top, and the bags clipped shut, is working just fine.  And, as of this morning and my first cuppa joe, I'm leaning Big Green Egg for my afternoon cooking of this bird.  I've measured and my pan will fit perfectly and since the weather so far is gorrrrrrgeous, I'm thinking that's my plan. 

Dressing is just about done--all I have to do is add the chicken stock, stir, and dump into pans and into a hot oven.  I think I'll make a pumpkin cake today for people around here to "carve" on since we might all get to skinny waiting to eat on Thursday.  The carrot souffle is a snap, as are the green beans, so I should be good there.  I can do both of those tomorrow and then cook them Thursday morning.  The bad news is, we will be riding up to the Farm Thursday morning, smelling all that stuff.  Yuuuuummmmm.

Sis says to tell everyone thank you for the cards and flowers--she's feeling much better and is resting up for Banjo-man's arrival tomorrow morning.  We might even try to sneak in a bath tonite so she's on top of her game for tomorrow.  And, yes,....she's a little vain. Whatever.

And the marathon begins...

Holy cow.  A really busy weekend.  I got Had's Christmas gift, finally, since I was waiting for the store to receive their delivery of girl's pink, fake-o crushed velvet, machine washable Super Hero capes, with matching reversible mask.  The store called me Friday night and said they were holding one for me, so Saturday I practically peeled up the asphalt getting over there to pick it up.  And, it seems she may need it before Christmas.  More specifically in two weeks, since she's getting her tonsils and adenoids out December 1st.  I know.  Ick.  Poor gal.  But I'm hoping the cape might just perk her up.  I'll certainly give it to her if it seems like it might.  She'll bounce back fast since little kids always do much better than adults.  Knowing her, this will only slow her down for a week, at the most.  She'll be droopy but still feisty.

Mom fell again yesterday at breakfast after leaning over to try to pick up a dropped spoon.  The old Humpty Dumpty, again.  Luckily, no damage other than embarrassment.  I've made my grocery run for TG and will pick up my organic turkey today, for it's brine swim, prior to cooking.  Between taking care of my sick Sis girl and cooking, my goal is to try to lie down every afternoon for at least a little while or I'll.... poop.... out.  We all will, so rest when you can.

More Sis drama

It appears that Sis is a tad more vulnerable than I'd thought.  She's been such a moose I figured she was pretty much bullet proof.  No so, Kemo Sabe.  This morning she came back to wake me up (her dad left the puppy gates open, thank you very much) and she was just not herself.  Now, I can't quite explain what being herself is, so just trust me here.  And then we went outside and she didn't hunt, and had trouble in the "tankling" department.  Several times.  Not a good sign.  And then she got back in her bed and refused a bite of toast, lightly buttered, delivered to her, in bed.  That's never happened.  Ever.
  So, we just returned from the Vet, despite Fred's desire for us "to wait 24 hours", and she has what I suspected--a bladder infection (UTI).  Ohhhhh, ouch.  And they gave her some pain pills, too, because those hurt.  Wait 24 hours my ass.  She is now sitting with me in her chair, looking wistfully out the window, with zero desire to hunt.  And since she just got a quarter of a morphine tablet wrapped in cheese, and her antibiotic, she's gonna be goofy as hell in a few minutes. 

The good news?  Her cortisol level is way down--maybe even down too far so we may need to adjust her medicine for that.  The bad news?   The medicine for her cortisol makes her more prone to UTI's.  Great.  We fixed one problem and created yet another. 

And Wiggins?  Other than having really stinky breath since we can't clean his teeth other than to brush them, is still rockin' it and the best boy ever.  Some guys just have it all.

It's clear Sis and I are getting closer and closer.  As the only two girls around here, we need to.  I just turned around to check on her and she is quiet as a mouse, with her stoned little head resting on the chair's armrest.  Yep....we girls are gonna have to stick together.  I've got your back, Sis.

Find the hand...

Eagle eyed AB pointed out the baby's hand in Go-Go's picture.  That's baby Avery's little paw. Awww, so sweet!

Happy Birthday, Go-Go

Today is the 58th year of someone on this planet that I love more than tongue can tell--my sister, Gretchen, or Go-Go, as her grandkids call her.  Or Gretty.  Or Gretel.  Yeah, she answers to all of those.  Without her, life on this planet would just not be as rich, or as fun, or sometimes as challenging.  Do we get mad at each other once in a while?  Well, hell, yes.  What siblings don't.  But, when push comes to shove and I'm on a desert island, I want her there with me.  We are yin to each others yang and since we're never both crazy on the same day, our relationship works beyond my wildest dreams.

She can make me laugh harder than just about anyone else I know, except maybe Fred.  Let's just say they are neck in neck for the funniest two people, in the clutch.  When she's at her best, I love to sit back, put my feet up, and just watch her roll.  And if you think that somehow she's a cream puff, think again.  She's one of the softest looking, toughest women I know.  And the really weirdest part is, if her body does something, it's often a precursor for mine and vice versa.  It's happened time and time again so now I just watch and wait when she tells me something. 

As kids, we were not all that close due to mom.  I don't say that to blame--it's just the facts, folks.  Mom inserted herself between the two of us, as children, so we never really got to know each other until we became adults.  And I thank God every day that we did.  Now we are no longer a triangle, including mom, but a team, with the two of us.

If you don't have a sister, get one.  She doesn't have to be blood to be your sister, but it's nice.  Pick someone you admire, can make you laugh, and will be rigorously honest with you no matter if your butt does look big in those jeans.  Honesty is KEY.  Having a sounding board is critical so be careful who you choose and where you place your trust.  I know some of you are rolling your eyes thinking "swell, but it'll never happen with my sister".  I thought the same thing years ago but here's what I know today: be the person you'd like her to be.  Treat her the way you'd like her to treat you.  And if all else fails, go choose your own.  But you can't have mine.  She's taken.

Happy Birthday, Go-Go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Part 2 of the Big O's Favorite Things is Monday! Holy Cow!

OK.  I goofed on the two hour show part.  It's two hours all right-- just not in a row.  One was Friday and the other will be Monday.  If you didn't see Friday's show, I can't imagine what she'll do on Monday.  It was soooo much, it was almost too much.  But, if I'd been in the audience receiving all that loot, I assure you it would have been just fine.  No complaints.  Zilch.

Tea time and Favorite Things!

Oh, baby....only a few more minutes until my favorite show of the year : Oprah's Favorite Things and if you've never seen it, this is your last chance.  Today's show is two hours with two audiences so I can only imagine what all Lady O is giving away to her fans. Shortly, I'll be heading to the kitchen and setting up my tea tray.  Yep, I am.  I'm pulling down my favorite teapot, microwaving my water and getting my little tea tray all set to bring in here and watch her show.  Heck....I'm even having veddy, veddy English tea.  I might even put milk in my tea...ya just never know.  Since this is her last year, this show is reportedly laaaaaaavish and I know I'm going to get into that.

Today was my family's company's Annual Meeting and possibly mom's last one since for her, it's sort of in one ear and out the other.  My sister brought her and mom arrived with her walker.  My sister said she found two cupcakes in the seat part when she lifted the seat to try to collapse it.  Mom had put the cupcakes inside the seat compartment, who knows when, and then forgotten about them.  Yummmm....petrified cupcakes.

Time for tea!!!

Carrot Souffle

What is it about men and BBQ....I mean, I like it, but I don't totally freak out over it like they seem to.  Since yesterday was wild, I ran by Sonny Bryan's to pick up some 'Q for dinner and then texted Brian to come eat, if he wanted.  Oh, yeah, baby.  Count on it.  He beat his dad here.  And when Fred hit the back door and saw what was for din-din, let's just say he was thrilled, and grabbed a plate.  Since I'd eaten earlier, I left the two of them to devour the rest of a #1 Family Pack that feeds four, and five out of the six included rolls.  And those are like little mini loaves.  Open them up and stuff in your brisket and sliced sausage, douse liberally with BBQ sauce, and prepare for a quick trip to taste bud heaven.

For the guys, the sides of green bean casserole and BBQ beans are pretty after the fact.  There has to essentially be no meat left, before they relent and eat the other stuff.  Carnivores.  All of them.  Even my Nashville cat.  Ahhhh, the power of BBQ.  If you have it, they will come.

It's hard to believe this time next week we'll all be in a post Thanksgiving gorged out coma.  Man, the holidays do get here fast.  I'm picking up my turkey Monday afternoon so I can brine it and cook it Tuesday or Wednesday so I'll have oven space for other stuff on Wednesday and Thursday. Our turkey is just for left overs since I am not on the Farm Turkey cooking list this year.  I am on the dressing, green beans, carrot souffle team, but will also do gravy, etc., for my bunch.  If you haven't had carrot souffle, well, you are just NOT one of God's favorites, like me.  And if you beg, I will give you the recipe because even Sister could make it--it's that easy.  And it's not high maintenance like a real souffle or you can bet your gizzards I wouldn't be making it.  It tastes a lot like sweet potatoes, only MUCH better.  And no marshmallows, either.  Gag me.
I even have a light version of carrot souffle but seriously, who'd want that?

Busy , busy...

Since I'll be up and out of here in the morning to head....wanna guess where...I thought I might do a nightly blog entry since it has been a blowin' and goin' kind of day.  Tomorrow I'll be meeting Rodney, the Farm caretaker, to move the furniture back after our recent rug and carpet cleaning.  Those sofas are like lead and do not budge, even with me pushing and my entire body parallel to the ground.  Hence the need for Rodney.  He is built like a brick sh** house, so this should take us about 20 minutes, max. 

Sis and Wig will stay home and hold down the fort since they are just not good tag-a-longs for a short run and I'd have to trade cars with Fred to take them.  My car is a sedan so there's no place to store them that they don't fly all around, vs the way back end of Fred's car.  If I hit the brakes, they would slide right off the seat and hit the floor in my car.  And, no, I do not have doggie car seats.  Yet.  Mom used to have them for her pugs and I just cannot go there.  Her dogs looked so stupid when she drove up at my house a few years back, I fell over in the grass, laughing.  They had little lambswool covers on their "seats" and looked like some sort of visitng dignitaries.  All that was missing was the royal wave.  Pure deeeee awwwwwwful.

There is a bunch of groaning below my desk....Sis, Wig, and Crashman (Brian) are all underneath me trying to get the donut bed territory settled.  It seems Wig was there first, and then Fat, Fat, the Water Rat pushed her way in, and is bed hogging.  And Wiggins is gritching.  Oh, Lordy.  If it's not your kids, it's your animals.

Sane Suggestions for the Holidays

After being skunk sprayed this morning by someone I do not even know, it ocurred to me this gal was in a LOT of FEAR, and let's face it, the holidays only intensify your emotions--good and bad.  So with that in mind, here's what I think:
1) DO NOT stay with relatives no matter how broke you are--even the ones that gave birth to you.  Everyone needs their own space to retire to, to rest, re-group, and chill.  There's a cheap hotel somewhere that's worth twice what you'll pay for it, in the peace of mind department.
 2)  Being around relatives makes us all regress, and you know it does, so just hear me.  We all go right back into those childhood patterns and "roles", so just be aware of that, and take a breather when you need to.  And by a breather I'm talking, grab your keys and head back to your hotel for a nap, go for a walk, go somewhere quiet and read (hotel lobby's work), pack your swimming suit in the event your hotel/motel has an indoor pool.  If you have little kids and they aren't already sick, let 'em swim to wear them out.  Then they'll get sick, but whatever.
 3) Lower your expectations of everybody, including yourself--- and most importantly yourself.  Families can be difficult, fun, annoying, etc., and the shorter the visit, the better.  Get your ticket punched and run for the hills.
4) Do not take your animals no matter what.  Just because you love them doesn't mean everybody else wants to be around them.  Leave them at the hotel with their warm fuzzies and turn on the TV, for company.  Plus, they provide a purrrrfect excuse to leave when you've had enuf'--you have to go let your pups out.  *You don't even have to actually bring your animals to use this excuse.  Just be careful that your kids don't blab.

  5) You do not have to do everything as a group---and this is a biggie.  Some families go nuts if even one person says "no thanks".  Think herd mentality here.  And cows.  You'll never convince me all those cows actually want to go to the back pasture--they just follow the leader because that's what cows do.  Ditto people.  Nobody wants to stand up and say "I'll pass, thank you" for fear of the family's wrath.  Do it anyway.   You are NOT the turd in the punchbowl if you opt out of a group "thing".  You are just way smarter than the rest of the herd.
6) DO NOT forget HALT--even if you don't feel hungry, angry, lonely, or tired.  Sometimes you can be there and not actually realize it, and unless you pause, and check, it's liable to get really ugly.
7) Lastly, alcohol.  You knew it was coming because we've all seen it a million times.  This is the BIGGEST reason for having your own place to stay.  You can escape.  When families are under stress, like during the holidays, we all already know who's going to get plastered, because it's the same folks every year.  And that's when the REAL party is gonna start.  I'm not anti alcohol.  I'm just anti alcohol for people who can't drink it, and then behave, which is a LOT of people. 
8)  If you've learned anything from reading this, I'm grateful.  It's taken me 56 years to figure out some of this, so be smarter than I was.  Nobody needs to give you permission to leave and if you piss somebody off, we'll that's their problem.  If more of us took better care of ourselves, instead of white knuckling through, we'd all be a lot happier and healthier. 

And that's just how I see it.

chif-a-laaay

Yesterday I got a call from one of mom's friends who takes mom and another lady to church every Sunday and then to the Country Club for lunch.  Since mom is still a member, it's about the only time she gets to go unless one of us takes her and truth be told, she loves going with her friends.  She may be old but she still loves her friends.  Mom's friend was calling to tell me two things: 1) mom needs a walker that collapses (hers does) 2) a disabled parking pass would be a great help for everyone involved.  So I was on it--for the parking pass.  I've demo-ed how to collapse her stroller to mom a gazillion times, and since she has dementia, she's just not gonna remember on a consistent basis, if at all.  I told mom's friend that anytime this gets to be too much for her, to pull the plug.  She's in her eighties, too, and the point is not to kill herself, trying to be a good friend.  Nope.  She's still going to do it so allrightey then.

When I ran the paperwork by for mom's new doctor to sign for the TxDot pass, there sat mom's next door neighbor in the Lobby, beautifully dressed, wearing her recently deceased boyfriend's baseball hat.  I stopped and spoke to her and told her I knew whose hat she was wearing.  She seemed a little surprised and told me she had "loved him sooo much".  I told her I knew the feeling was returned, just from reading his obit in the paper.  I told her all the lovely things his children had said about her in the paper, and what a gift she had been to their dad's life.  Damn...I almost made myself cry when I saw the look on her face.  I felt like I was looking right into her soul and her eyes said everything her aging brain had trouble voicing.  She had really loved this man.  And though her short term memory might not be worth a toot, her long term memory hadn't forgotten a thing.  Ouch.

When I got home, I really needed a good laugh so I thought about Hadley, and my recent visit with the monkeys last Friday.  As I was holding Had and listening to her, she said something that almost made me drop her: chif-a-lay.  Yeah.  You heard it. And I laughed so hard I made her say it about a hundred times.  Like a good little Texas gal, she leans real hard on the laaaaaaay part.  It seems Chick Filet is her new most favorite place and every time she said it, I went to pieces.  Then her mom told me she and her dad were playing the other night and he was creeping around popping out at her, sort of scary like.  She looked at him, put her hair behind her ears and hands on her hips, and asked him "what are you doing trying to scare me?"   OMG.  She's way past his pay grade and she's not even three.

Doctors and waiting...C'mon

Buckle up because I'm on a mini rant about physicians and poor customer service.  A week or so ago I had an appointment for my annual with my allergist.  I won't reveal her name to protect the guilty but let's just say her initials are Barbara Baxter, MD.  I made a rule for myself a long time ago as a health professional, that I wasn't waiting on any body except God, for longer than 30 minutes, and doctors are clearly NOT God, despite what they may think.  And I've walked out of my share of appointments, to the absolute shock of a few doctors and their office staff.  Anywho, because I was reading a very good book, I broke my own rule and after an hour and fifteen minutes, out I went.  The dumb receptionist didn't realize I hadn't even been seen until I told her to send me back my co-pay, and walked out.  She liketa died. 

As a nurse, I've worked in my fair share of offices and I know what goes on and why stuff happens, and I'm not a total hard ass if they have an emergency and they communicate that to me.  But if they or their doctor is just d***ing around, see my smoke, baby.  I used to work for a guy, eons ago, who was the typical old style country doctor who ran as much as two hours late because he let his patients talk forever.  And he was slow as molasses in January.  They all knew he ran late, still came, and then griped at me about it.  I was young and stupid back them and thought maybe I could hustle him along, a little, and it worked for awhile until I finally realized I just was not going to make a dragster out of an old VW bus.  So, I found another job.

The reality is, as a society we've become so accustomed to poor service in  doctors offices that we just put up with it.  If we grumble, it's to the wrong people--the office staff.  They can't do squat if it's the doctor that thinks his/her time is more important than yours, simply because they took the Hippocratic oath.  It isn't and don't buy that hubris.  If the staff is lousy, haul a** because the last thing most doctors want to deal with is office issues like staff.  Do yourself a favor and cut to the chase.  If you aren't happy, take your business elsewhere that your insurance allows.  There actually are some really well run offices where the doctors actually do run reasonably on time and can actually communicate if there's a problem, giving you options to reschedule. 

I'll be seeing Dr. Gary Gross Wednesday.  He's my new allergist.

Another blonde?

Yesterday was a whirlwind of activity and what was intended to be a quick trip to the Farm, ended up taking a good bit longer.  On a whim, we decided to rent a steam carpet cleaner and give the rug a chance to live a little longer.  Shoot....for $26, it just seemed like the right thing to do.  We moved all the furniture off, I vacuumed and then Fred got to cleanin'.  I think the water in the tank by the house or the creek is cleaner, than what we dumped out of the machine's tank.  Groadddddddyyyyyy.  Then once the rug was clean....we'll go figure....we just had to do the carpet in all the bedrooms and upstairs.  We traded jobs and I cleaned carpet, while Fred went down to trim down the bushes at the little house that were too thick for me to cut with the nippers. 

Then Cowboy John, Fred's youngest brother, showed up with his trailer and extra horses to round up his cattle to sell.  He and a friend herded them into the pen, and then loaded all the cows and calves into his trailer and another guy's, who'd showed up to help.  And then the Death Squad arrived.  Yep...I'm serious.  None other than the Dr. Kevorkian of the animal world, Dr. Hefner.  He's a large animal Vet and good friend of John's, and it was finally time for Old Poot, one of the harse's, to say his permanent goodbye to the Farm.  He was down to skin and bone and had bot fly eggs all over him, so it was actually way past time for that old harse.   Poot was old as fire, and ready to head to the big alfalfa field in the sky--I know 'cause he told me.  Another cold winter would have just been cruel.  So after the cows were taken off, Old Poot was loaded, taken off, and given the big adios syringe, and down he went.  RIP, Old Poot. 

The funniest part of the day came, though, when one cow jumped out of the trailer, took off, and they decided to just leave her, for the time being.  OMG.....she went crazy after they drove off, snorting, bellowing, and running around trying to find anybody else that looked like a cow or a bull, to hang with.  All she could find was Mr. Falls bull, a visitor, and you could tell she wasn't real pleased about that.  So for the time being, she's just going to have to get happy with the remaining harses, and Mr. Falls bull.

And, finally, a shot of another blonde gal and my new friend.  I think she's one of John's harses--there were 4 tied up by the barn so I'm guessing this is one of his.  Could be one of his friends but that's not important to my story, here.  I've also decided she's a she simply because her hair looked so good and she was so friendly, and I forgot to look.  I climbed up on the fence to get these shots and she got a little shy about her close up, but after I loved on her, we became BFF's.  She might actually be a he ( gelding), and that would be fine, too.  Either way, he/she was lovely.

Stocking stuffer for Sis

We are down to the wrap up at the Farm.  I found some fun quilt pillows at Kohls, on sale, thank you very much, and Bruce's mom found some she liked, on sale, at Pottery Barn.  She took both sets up Saturday and blessed both for the sofas, and used the additional smaller ones I'd found, on beds downstairs that needed some spiffing.  We are down to a new rug and since I'm out of gas, and need to do my own shopping, we are on hold for that.  I would like to see if we can steam clean the rug, so we'll see.

Sis is back at her post, behind me in my chair and I'm wondering if she doesn't need a pair of doggles, for Christmas.  She stares out the window so much and as bright as it is, that's got to be tough on a gal's eyes.  Doggles are also great for riding in the car, with your dog head out the window, for maximum sniffing.  Your eye balls don't get dried out and bugs just splat on your glasses vs. landing in your eyes.  I'm thinking a hot pink pair might just be right up her alley this Christmas.  Fred would have an enormous cow, though....sort of defeats his whole "hunting dog" idea.  Picture it...Sis's jet black self running all over the front yard in pink doggles, hunting squirrels.  I bet cars driving past would have a wreck.  But I know Sis cold rock a pair of these.

Kanye, AGAIN

I can barely drink my coffee I am laughing so hard.  I just saw where Kanye has cancelled his concert on the Today Show that was to air on Nov.26th, "for obvious reasons", according to Kanye.  Dude....seriously?  Has it occurred to you nobody wants to hear you??  I hope they replace him with Taylor Swift.  Just makes you smile, doesn't it?

Wow....and I bet he thinks he really showed the Today Show.  Oh, he showed them all right....he showed them how unprofessional and immature he is....but we already knew that, Kanye. 

No, thank ya!

Yesterday I had lunch with mom and my brother and, boy, howdy, life is moving at quite a clip.  My brother is now moving to LA on Dec. 10th vs. Jan.1, and I felt like I needed a seat belt, at lunch.  His wife is shagging out of here Dec.1st and he gets to stay behind for the movers, and to then drive out with their dog.   Kind of makes you want to hurt yourself, doesn't it??  Thank heavens it's not me.
  I had mentioned to my sister a while back that I thought they'd be gone before Christmas--no reason--just a gut instinct, and sure enough that's what's happening.  Wow.  They have changed living locations in the LA area so many times in the last few weeks I am reeling.  Good thing they can handle that because my stress level wouldn't.  I'd have gone over the edge weeks ago.
And, truth be told, my brother said they (he and his wife) are about to kill each other.  Nothing like a bone jarring, brain blendering move, right before Christmas, to put the fun back in dysfunctional.  And then they are going to Seattle, for Christmas, with their daughters, to be with his wife's side of the family.  Flying out of LAX at Christmas time??  Oh, Joy To the World and pass the propofol.  You can wake me up sometime after the New Year, when... it's... all... over.

Now...I hate to be high maintenance but there's just not one part of that, that sounds like one smidgen of fun to me.  Moving to LA?  Only if I was living in cool house at the beach on Malibu ....OK....maybe not even that.  And with my luck, just as I finished unpacking the last box, there'd be an earthquake--the Big One--and well, draw your own picture-- and I'm shark bait.  Nuh, huh.

NashVegas and HB, Hairball!

No news on the fiddle front.  I spoke with Benji yesterday and it seems he's interviewing lots of fiddles--even one he's played with from Dallas.  The Dallas guy is on his way to Nash, or is probably there by now, to audition and get a feel for Scarletta, NashVegas, etc.  Benji said he wants to get the right person but would also like it to happen fairly quickly, so they can re-sign their contracts by year end, and finish recording.  I personally wish Nathan would pull his head out, but if it's not meant to be, it just isn't, and the last thing the band needs is somebody who isn't committed, and then to try to "make it work".  You might as well stand in the middle of a cold, rushing Colorado stream, and try to make it flow the other direction. Let me know how that works for ya.

Today is one of my most favorite people's birthday's--none other than Hairball, Uncle Lizard Groth, my nephew.  See previous post on *#@* My Dad Says.  Hair looks just like the son (below) that lives with William Shatner, and is every bit as funny.  This morning I got an email saying there was a beeeeeutiful chocolate lab available for adoption and that her/his time was running out, so I sent it to Hair suggesting he get himself a 4 legged birthday gift as a companion for his chocolate girl, Haddie (or Hattie).  Brilliant, no??  I mean if you've got one....why not two?  Hair takes his gal pal every where--even to the office-- and has glamour shots of her.  Sounds a little incestuous to me so maybe another dog is the answer.  Or not.  We'll see.  Ooops...bad news.  Looks like my email to Hair came back....welllllll....that's generally what happens when I butt in somewhere I don't belong.  Rats.

Happy Friday and weekend to all.  I'm layin' low and so are Wigman and Sis, but then they always do.

Ooops, he did it again

In the event that you missed Matt Lauer's interview of Kanye West, grab a cup of coffee and prepare to roll your eyes.  I missed it as well, but saw it on the internet this morning.  Matt Lauer must be the nicest human being on the Earth to have agreed to interview Kanye.  I'd rather interview a pooping elephant with diarrhea.  I'm not hatin', I'm just sayin' there's nuthin' Kanye has to say, that's worth hearing.  He is a one man IED and detonates on himself, repeatedly.  Matt threw him a life preserver numerous times, and Kanye refused to grab it.  Then Matt practically scripted an apology to President Bush, for Kanye, for calling the then sitting President a racist.  And Kanye acted like a total ass.  It was clear he really had not thought out his position and how he truly feels, or just could not articulate it.  I'm leaning towards the former.

And in a total "what goes around comes around" moment, Kanye was reminded he'd been called racist for interrupting Taylor Swift's acceptance speech, and he really didn't like it, and "couldn't understand how that was racist".  If nothing else, it was a textbook case of self sabotage and ego run riot.  What a missed opportunity to so easily have apologized for speaking emotionally, in the moment, post Katrina.   Who in the world hasn't said something they've later regretted?  Saying it is one thing.  Not mopping up your mess is another. 

  I am not a big Bush fan but I do believe we all would love to call a "do over" occasionally, and it's clear former President Bush would not have just flown over New Orleans, if he could do it all over again.  I firmly believe most people do the very best they can at the time, with the tools they have, and if this is Kanye's best, well, Lord love him, 'cause I can't.

Since the wheels came off my bus yesterday, today I am laying l-o-w.  Sometimes I don't realize when enough has been way too much, until I just crater.  And crater I did.  Took a two hour nap and then was back in the bed by 7:45PM.  Feel loads better now but learning to pace myself is still something I'm not good at.  I keep thinking that because I'm still vertical, I can just push harder.  I can, but it's not a good idea--for anybody.  Sooner rather than later, I end up horizontal, and totally on empty.  If the cosmos throws any less than fun stuff my way, I have absolutely no reserves from which to draw on, and I get triggered by other people much more quickly when I am in HALT.  Hungry, angry, lonely, tired.  Any one or a combo of those means I need to stop immediately. A really good reminder for me as we head into the holidays. 

I am currently sharing my office chair with Sis--or more accurately she is sharing her chair with me.  As I sip my coffee, she was on full on yard patrol, and has now adopted a more leisurely seated version.  Oh,  I spoke too soon.  Now she's turned her big old self around completely (no small feat) so she can nudge my arm for scratching and love.  And now she's shaking and quivering, ears pricked, on full alert again which can only mean one thing...her arch nemesis (a squirrel) is somewhere out there, and must be eliminated. If she thinks she can climb that tree, fine by me.

And lastly, if you missed the news last night, it showed Central Market's Feast of Sharing for anyone who was hungry and wanted a traditional Thanksgiving meal.  Understandably, people turned out in droves and next year, I'd love to be a schleper at that.  People are seated and actually served a hot meal vs the buffet shuffle dump that makes you feel like you are in the army.  CM does the FOS every year, and my hat's off to them for such a loving gesture to the less fortunate though anyone is welcome.  Just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy...

White Trash Turkey

Wow.  Yesterday after lunch, I ran by mom's to drop off some things I'd gotten her that she needed.  While there, she tried on a pair of boots that I'd gotten, at her request, and she attempted to get up off her sofa and walk in them, with her walker.  We never got to the walking part since she couldn't get her balance and sat down like a sack of wet cement, despite my efforts to stabilize her.  So much for the boots idea....and as for her inability to get her balance, I was completely blown.   Mom went into a  free fall without any effort on her part to catch herself, and that scared the crapola out of me.  Think thud...and you've got it.  Thank goodness she didn't hit anything on the way down, and landed on her rather well padded rear end.  And getting herself up??  You don't even want to know.

I am back on my turkey cooking dilemma and have got to come to some sort of decision here fairly soon.  My latest idea is to cook mine, in the oven, in a brown paper bag like my hairdresser does.  Kevin brine's his first, then  rinses it well inside and out, and pats that bad boy/girl dry.  Then it gets a slathering of peanut oil and he puts his into a brown grocery sack, with a handful of peanut oil thrown inside the bag.  He staples the bag shut, but leaves that little vent indentation open.  Then into a preheated 350 oven until done.  He says he Googles every year how long to cook it since sometimes his turkey is bigger or smaller.  He cuts open the bag the last 30-45 minutes so it browns nicely.

But it's his body language and antics of how he makes his brine that makes me scream out laughing.  He says he "opens his spice cabinet and just goes for it...a little of this and a little of that...whatever you have, whatever you like, whatever you want to get rid of ",  all goes into his brine with the salt and water.  Even cayenne pepper.  Oh, yeah, baby.  Picture a 6'2", very handsome (I call him Cinderfella), hilarious, gay man doing "a little of this and a little of that" and you'll get why it gasses me every time.  He calls it his White Trash Turkey and says it's sensational every year.  See...it does sound fun, doesn't it??

He said he has a "dedicated" cooler for brining, but it's the flourish when he talks about throwing out the whole bag once the turkey is cooked & removed, that just kills.  He looks like a gay man throwing a football in an imaginary trash can and then does his hands, "ta da".  No muss, no fuss. I look forward to TG every year so I can get him to do it again.  Well worth the price of a haircut. 

The other option, which we have discussed before, is to brine a la Kevin, and then cook it on my EGG.  While this would definitely free up needed oven space, there's just something about the Trash Turkey that makes me howl.  Anyone out there with an opinion, vote now.  Either way will be fun!

Dreamy play

I know this is weird to admit, even on a blog, but I want my life to feel the way Martha Stewart's magazine looks.  Everything is always in it's place, beautiful, serene, and lovely.  Shiny things are always shiny, clean things always look freshly laundered and pressed, and the food???  Well....just don't even get me started there.  And the flowers are usually to die for.  I even like her dogs, her chickens, and for sure, her donkeys.  Now, never mind she has a staff of people taking care of everything---so would I---and I'd get to have her houses and Farm, too.  But I could just do the fun stuff--none of the other businessy crap and meetings. I've had enough business meetings in my life to last me for the rest of my days.

The stuff I don't want about her life is her: 1) felony convictions 2) her daughter who doesn't seem very nice 3) Martha doesn't strike me as someone I would particularly like 4) and for sure I don't want all of the rest of the baggage that comes with being Martha. You know what I'm talking about....all the make nice, air kissy stuff on TV, and I don't even watch her show.  And all that crafts stuff?  Nope.  Not doing that.  Fries my brain just thinking about it.  Nah,  I'd be out in the barn with the animals, in the kitchen cooking, or in her green houses playing with her plants.  Or in the house checking out all her china, flatware, silver, etc.  I did not say I was polishing it--just playing with it--- and making tables settings.  With all her gear, that'd be a snap.  And fun.  And all I really want to do is just play. 

And her gardens....that somebody else tends, but I could help out when the desire struck, no matter how fleeting.  And the fresh veggies, flowers, and herbs would just send me over the edge.  To get to cut my own fresh flowers from my own garden, for my own home, and arrange them??  Deeeevine.  I would totally bliss out.  I can smell the fresh flowers, orange, and cinnamon right now. 
I don't want to be her or have her life---I just want how her stuff makes me feel.  Wow....just thinking about all of it makes me sleepy.....and real dreamy.  Maybe I need to go take a nap and dream about it.  All of it.

Drama in Nashtown

I'm betting it's the same for the rest of you but you know how your Mom-dar just starts receiving signals when one of your kids has something going on.....you can hear it in their voice, but you know better than to ask what in the hell is wrong.  That just makes them crazy so instead you adopt the "I'm just checking in " approach by email or phone (phone is best because then you can "hear" with your mom ears).  And then you have to wait until they are ready to disclose and sometimes they never do--they just get whatever it was handled, so they sound normal again. 

Well, the Mother Ship over here has been picking up voice signals that there was drama in Nashtown and while curiosity killed the cat, I didn't go there.  I waited...tick, tick, tick...and finally yesterday after my call to "check in", Benji coughed up what's been going on.  Scarletta fired Nathan, their fiddle player and had been in the process for the last week.   Apparently Nathan's head has been somewhere other than on his shoulders, and yep, there's a woman involved---so now you know where his head's been--and still is.  They gave him every opportunity to save himself and he just didn't or wouldn't.  Sooooo, Scarletta is now hunting a new fiddle player and while Benji says it's OK, we all know Nathan could just tear up a fiddle when he played.  Benji says it makes him really sad when he hears the tracks they've already recorded, and hears Nathan's solos.  But if Nathan can't get his head in the game, and hold up his end of the contract, he needs to go.  Benji has interviewed a few new fiddle guys, one of whom plays right now for Carrie Underwood.  The question is, does this guy want to step forward and be the act, or does he want to just play back up, in the background.  Everybody's aspirations are different so if nothing else, this will sure be interesting.

I told Bruce I had known something wasn't quite right and he just said "Huh?"  So much for Father's intuition.

Wiggins and Sis were hosts tonight for a special visitor to our house for dinner.  They were all in a tizz until she arrived and when she did, Sis was the welcoming committee simply because old man Wiggins had fallen asleep in his donut bed, while waiting.  Well, hell....he's old and sometimes he just has to sneak in a nap.  He did get to spend considerable time in AB's lap after dinner, while she loved on him and he groaned with pleasure.  Sis adored our dinner visitor, too, and wanted to get up in her lap, the second she sat down.  Sis is no dummy and neither is Wig.  They no "quality" when they see it.  And AB is.

Sis's new Purse

I think I may have to shorten the shoulder strap for Sis, otherwise her purse might drag.  Hilarious, no??

Birthday pie--DONE

Sis is home from the Vet and none the worse for wear.  Her breath is still stinky but that will clear up in a day or two as she takes the post op antibiotics.  They said not to give her water or anything to eat so the first thing I did was give her water--a little bit--and when that stayed down, I fixed her scrambled eggs.  Yeah, I did.  I never follow directions when they come back from the Vet.  It's not that I think I'm smarter or don't understand the reasons why they tell you not to do stuff.  I do--totally.  I just know she's little and she's thirsty....so, I give her a couple of ice cubes in a bowl, with a splash of water, after I've let her have a little drink out of her regular bowl.  She hates the ice cube routine, chasing them around the bowl hoping they'll melt really fast and they never do.  And the scrambled eggs??  Well, she's supposed to have soft food in case her gums are sore so, duh...what else are you going to give her, Blue Bell?  She's still whiney but I think that's just because her dad isn't home yet and she needs to tell him how traumatic it all was, get a bunch of sympathy, and other wise just work him.  And she will, too.  It is a sight to behold.  She is in the den, pacing, waiting for him to drive in.  Poor guy.  He's about to get done by a dog.  And he LOVES it.

Getting schmoozed....I just hate it, even when I understand why.  And when it's about money and philanthropy, I totally get it, but I still just don't want to be put on the spot, be romanced and chatted up, when really all somebody wants is Foundation $$$.  For heaven sakes...just ask for it, although the sea bass at lunch was a nice touch.  I had to do a "thank you" lunch yesterday for mom's previous 40 years of Board work and philanthropy for a Dallas institution, with my sibs, when all I really wanted to do was be outside.  While interesting, the dog and pony show lasted way too long for me.  But I get it.....I just don't like it.

I got Brian's birthday chocolate pie made and the meringue done, right after dinner.  We were all too full to cut it so he's coming by today to take it home, or at least he better.  I've included a picture since the meringue turned out much better than usual--when they tell you to let the egg whites come to room temperature before whipping them, do it--even if you don't follow directions worth a hoot, like me.   That, and some cream of tartar, and I was piling on the meringue, and it was spectacular if I do say so myself.  Even Brian was surprised.  Now, the pie may not taste worth a toot, but it sure is purdy.  And, yeah....I cheated on the crust and used a frozen one.  Hey, a girl can only do so much in one day....

Birthday pie

Since Crashman, Brian, turns 29 tomorrow, tonite is Birthday dinner nite.  We knew he'd rather be hanging with his pals on Saturday night so we'll getter dun tonite.  Also on the agenda is me making him a birthday chocolate meringue pie later this afternoon.  Pie over birthday cake??  Always.  No question about it.  And chocolate?  Well, duh.  I'm also planning to do a look see over at mom's to see if anything I got yesterday works.  Maybe I better make that pie this morning since a style show with mom could take awhile.

A lurker of this blog got me the cutest dachshund purse as an early birthday gift and dropped it by yesterday afternoon, and after opening it, I jumped up and down like a 5 year old.  You would have thought it was a Prada...and if I can figure out how to email the pic I took to this computer, from my phone, in all my spare time today, I'll include a pic.  Texting it was easy--I just can't find the attachment doo dad on my email screen so I may have to call Benji for help. I texted it to one of my nieces and she went nuts, too.  Ahhhh, dachies....whatcha gonna do?

Sis should be "on the table" in nite-nite land getting her pearly whites all cleaned and any problem teeth pulled.  Wiggles is in pig-dog heaven with her gone.... his food can stay down for cruise by grazing, she's not hogging the donut bed so he's all comfy, no sharing his water bowl, and life in general is just good.  I need to take him this afternoon to get his nails trimmed, again, since he's catching in the carpet a little and they are growing really close to his pads.  I wish I could just do the trimming myself since Lord knows I have enough implements with which to trim--a regular surgical array--but I just can't do it.  I swear I somehow manage to hit the cuticle at least once every time I try to trim them, and then it bleeds like crazy.  And he yips.  And then cries. And then I just feel awwwwful.  Like a murderer.  Nope, I'm just not gonna do it. 

I did harvest the last of my basil late yesterday afternoon, in the event of a freeze last night, and as I figured, I've got at least one more load of pesto, judging by the amount of foliage left.  The cuttings are sitting in a container of water in the sink and have perfumed the house since I cut them.  OOOOO, la la....nothing like the smell of fresh herbs.  Happy weekend to all and since we'll be home all weekend, I may just drag out my fire pit and play white trash on the driveway.  Sis loves to sun herself out there, as does old Wigman, so I think I've got a plan.  That, and a big old pot of white chicken chili......I just luvvvvvvv Fall.

Coldwater Creek

I .....am......worn.....out.  I just went shopping to buy mom some "play clothes" since all her old stuff looks tres' tired.  I started at one end of Coldwater Creek and cut a swath right through that place.  The older sales lady was laughing as I yanked stuff I thought might work and threw it over my shoulder.  And then I started throwing it over hers.  Luckily, this wasn't her first barbecue with a dementia client, so she's the one that stopped me when the buttons on one blouse were too small.  She said it takes her forever to button that shirt and not to go there, and I didn't.  I knew about elastic waist pull on pants and we found several pairs of those, so I may have scored there, if they fit. By the end, she was exhausted and so was I, and I still don't know what 83 year old ladies wear, but there's bound to be something in one of those bags that works.  My favorites were the soft knit cotton jeans--they look just like jeans but feel soft like pj's, only with a zipper and button.  Yeah, buddy. 

Mom may not like any of the stuff and if she doesn't, well, that'll be just fine--or at least that's what I'll tell the judge when I plead insanity, as my defense for killing her.  The thought of wagging those bags back to the store just makes me want to go lie down and take a nap.  A l-o-n-g nap.  And speaking of naps, mom's next door neighbor at the Plaza's boyfriend died yesterday, and mom's neighbor is all torn up about it.  I'm talking a dirt nap here....he was there one minute and then checked out to the great beyond--poof.  Mom's neighbor ate every meal with her BF and now there's a hole at the table, and she won't go to the dining room to eat.  I got all the scoopage from Carrie, the Concierge, when I ran by today to drop off a new orchid for mom since her's was kaput.  Carrie said Mrs."Real Sad" needed a hug and then told me why, so I went right over and hugged on her.  Dang.  Ya just never know when your ticket's punched, do ya?

Yosemite, here I come

After watching yesterdays' Oprah's big camping adventure with fellow unlikely camper, best friend Gail, I now have a huge hankering to go to Yosemite and stay for at least a week or even two.  Now, I did not say I wanted to camp out, and frankly neither did Oprah or Gail, but they're on TV and I'm not, so I don't have to.  I want to stay somewhere really nice, maybe learn how to fly fish, hike a little if it's not straight up at a 90 degree angle, and just chill in all the beauty and nature.  I can just smell that fresh mountain air.  One more project to research--a trip to Yosemite next year.  I told Fred and he just looked at me like I was crazy, until I said fly fishing.  We're as good as gone.  I might as well go pack.

Sis needs to get her teeth cleaned before Thanksgiving so she won't have "squirrel mouth" when Benji comes home.  Man....it's just always somethin' around here.  Since she's never had them cleaned, I'm not thinking this is going to be her most favorite thing, but heck, if I get mine cleaned, so can she.  I just called and she's the only "dental" for tomorrow, so fresh breath here we come!  Fred can take her on his way to the office.  I know he'll be thrilled.

The latest drama around these parts is my brother and his wife are still moving to LA but don't know when, or where they are going to live.  Their previous blast off was set for 1.1.11.  The place Moo (wife) had decided upon, is now out--not sure why--, so they are back to looking.  Since they have moved residences essentially every four years, it probably won't take them long to find some place they like.  Me??  I'm just not a big mover.  I love my house and where I am so other than wanting to knock my house down and build, or gut it and re-work the interior space, I'm happy right where I am--even if I stay with it just like it is.  I've just always wanted to build a house so maybe at some point we will.  I don't want more house--noooooo---just to shuffle a few rooms.  And no living room.  We never use ours-- and no big swanky dining room either, for all those chi chi dinner parties I never have.  I used to occasionally.... but I'm over that now.  I like open and cozy--quite a feat to pull off well.  I've seen pictures of what I want, so at least I know what I want....that's half the battle, no?

Well, damn it

Well.....it's been one hell of a morning so I'll start with Carlos Cortez.  I had soooo hoped he'd have to take the walk of shame out of the Court House carrying all his office gear but, alas, South Dallas's voting block saved his puerko......and only by a whisker.... but that was enough to keep him in office so be advised:  do not get yourself in a pickle and end up in his court.  I won't even go into the rest of the results as I've only had one cup of coffee and I just can't go there yet.

I had to have fasting labs drawn this morning so I treated myself to a Starbucks on the way to look for carpet/rug material at Lowes.  Since Fred's dad burned two big holes in the current rug eons ago when it was brand new, after making a bonfire in the fireplace and not putting the screen back, it's w-a-y past time for a replacement.  The current rug has also seen it's quota of dogs, if you get my drift, so whatever we get needs to wear like iron.  Boots, beer, mud, parties, and once even a pony, have all darkened the door of the big house.  And don't even ask about the pony---I'm not telling and you'll NEVER get it out of me.  The good news is, it wasn't one of mine who did it.  Mine probably have had MUCH worse than a pony in the house.

The chairs we ordered that they said would be here hopefully by Christmas, are here, and a big fat old thank you to La-z-Boy.  Hopefully, we can get them up to the Farm this week since if I have to wait, someone around our house is gonna be really sorry he didn't just getter dun.  If it's new, I gotta see it.  Now.  Right now.  None of this diddling around stuff.

Mom told the Concierge at the Plaza this morning that she had been "fired" from her old salon and would now be going "local".  When I called Carrie to remind them mom needed them to walk her over, Carrie was laughing saying "don't worry about your mom...she's fine with the change".  Whew. 

And, last but NOT least: Happy Birthday, Dallas!!!  Hope you have a great birthday!!   Dallas is a Follower and Hud, Had, & Avery's dad, and also my nephew.  Woo hoo!!

Ain't she purdy??

Here she is in all her blonde glory.  Sorry for the rear shot but she was not real cooperative.  Must not like having her photo taken.  While my pot of homemade vegetable soup simmers, I thought I'd load her, so you all could get a glipmse of all her gorgeousness.  And for fun, I added one of Fred, and the tractor with the flat bed.  Just makes you feel all countree, dudn't it??

                       

Smart blonde cow??

For lack of a better idea, I pulled out this summer's homemade Marinara sauce Monday morning to have for dinner last night.  Remember how I told you it was a lot of trouble to go to, just for Marinara, and that it involved a trip to the Farmer's Market for  a sack of the "unlovlies" of the tomato world?  Well, damn....it was worth it.... and even though I'm not sure I'd do it again, my taste buds sure want me to.  I called Brian to see if he'd eaten and he headed right over.  Ladled atop a pile of angle hair pasta, liberally sprinkled with good Parmesan cheese and a twist of fresh cracked pepper, oh, mannnnnn.......pass me the garlic bread.  Not sure I can stand that jarred stuff again.  Ever.

I dropped the bomb on mom Sunday evening that she had a new "hair hut", as she calls it.  I could tell it was hurtful to her but I was as tactful and kind as I could be...it just it what it is.  By the time she gets used to going there on a regular basis, she'll love the convenience of not having to even go outside on a cold or wet morning or at least that's the story I'm telling myself for now.

I tried to get a shot of my favorite cow but since the zoom on our camera is broken, getting an up close and personal shot was not easy.  The closer I'd get, the quicker they'd all snort and move away.  This gal is a smart, blonde, cow and while I realize none of those things go together, well....she just is.....or at least she's the smartest of the bunch.  She's the alpha cow and a real leader....she's not afraid of people in their pj's who walk down with their coffee to open the gate so the cows can all head to another pasture.  The others snort, rear up, blow and act all stupid, but she just watches you really carefully, and then is the first one through the gate.  The others??  Nope.....they're still just standing there being dumb, waiting for another cow to woman up and go through the gate.   Blonde smart cow is way on down into the pasture by now, munching happily, while the brunettes try to "figure it out". I'll try to post a picture of her Majesty later today.

Fred and I moved the rest of the cut limbs and branches away from the little house Sunday morning by piling the branches on top of the low boy and hauling them off with the tractor.  It took several loads and dumps but it looks great now.  While we loaded, I sang the Green Acres theme song and then did the Titanic "King of the World" arms outstretched thing to Fred, as he drove toward me on the tractor.  You haven't lived until you've seen someone do that, back to you, on a moving tractor.  I even rode the tractor with him--- but that was before he did the Titanic move.