Pupdate

I just got an email from the breeder I like.  She said she bred her female, Ms. Bluebell and male, Dudley, this morning, so puppies should be arriving April 1-3.  She knows I want a smooth blue and tan male, so from now on, it's up to Bluebell and Dudley.  I have placed my order with the Dachshunds Gods.  She said Bluebell is "known for throwing blue and tans" --she is one--and Dudley is a Piebald, so she thinks she'll have blue and tans, Isabella and tans, and piebalds.  Holy cow!!!  I'm about to FREAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  They're going to look like a bunch of squirming little Easter eggs in April. 

I just hung up with Benji, my fellow puppy wanter, after casting a total puppy freakness upon him.  And, yes, I know "wanter" is not a word, but I like it, therefore it is.   Benji's the one that made me get Sis, way back when, because he KNEW when Wigman died, I'd be a basket case without another dog, and he was 100% correct.  Nothing like having someone really know you, and he does.  He probably also wanted a puppy-- but that's another story.

Here's a picture from the breeders website that pretty much says it all.  It's tough to tell who's baby sitting who.

Coops

It would appear I am not the only one obsessed with chickens at the moment.  One of my favorite blogs, Velvet and Linen, featured these pictures over the weekend and I just had to pass these on.  The first is Martha Stewart's coop:  Isn't that just Martha to a tee?  

Next is my personal favorite and I can picture it, and me, in my little village in England.  I would wear those old lady flowered sack dresses ('cause I'd be real fat), make scones and tea cakes with all the fresh eggs, and snip roses for my quaint little cottage.  Dreamy, isn't it?

This one is kind of fun, you have to admit.

Lastly, when I saw this one on Velvet and Linen, I had to swipe it to share.  Twins.

Avoid the land mines

I nearly stepped on a land mine yesterday but caught myself before it blew my head off.  The land mine was, when visiting mom the other day, she asked "could I come stay with you?"  Oh, man.  Can I tell you the pain and guilt that rushed up, just for a second, when I said " I couldn't take care of you, mom".  Had I been in my right mind I would have just ducked the question all together, but I never know when mom is really lucid and when she's not, and to me, part of being treated with dignity is for people not to blow off what you've asked them, unless it's just totally nuts.  Then you can.  This one caught me completely off guard and emotionally unprepared.  For a second I forgot I don't have to assume she really even knows or understands what she's asked, just like little kids, but the feelings rushed up anyway.

I almost went there--to Guilt and Shame land.  I almost told myself I wasn't doing enough, blah, blah, blah, until that little voice at the back of my head said "Honey...get over yourself.  You are doing the very best job you can AND when in this wide world has your mom ever been really HAPPY"?  Answer: NEVER.  And with that, I had to laugh and go on.  Ahhhh, reality is such a nice place, when I return back from a quick trip to Nutville.

 Boy, is it ever easy to go there, though.  With parents in declining health, you have to watch your step.  You can blow up all over yourself, if you aren't real careful.

Visiting columnist, Fred

Because someone got their tail in a knot at Tom Thumb just now, I'm going to allow a visiting columnist to blog on my site.  This may be  really bad idea on my part but it will keep him busy and out of my hair so heeeeeere's Fred.  Take it away.

OK... I'm all for well-intentioned causes, but the Super Bowl inspired "Purchase our sack of groceries we put together and will send to people in need" program, I saw at Tom thumb is seriously lacking. I considered purchasing one of these pre-filled sacks......

 




UNTIL I saw some of the things it contained. Cupcakes, olives, high sugar content cereal, 'fancy' brand fettucini, etc.  I located only one bag that had a canned vegetable as a component. In most all of the bags were items you would not consider to be nutritious for someone who is truly hungry. Here's a picture of the only 2 contents I found in one bag (French Vanilla Creamer and Chopped Pecans - Really ?):






I asked the highest ranking official at the store about this, and basically he said they put in the bags what they have in their inventory -meaning to me - those items that aren't selling well. I never got the impression that the store (or company) requested a list of needed items, and that the sacks were filled with those items requested.


IF I had bought the bag without paying attention to what was inside, I would also have been paying FULL retail price for these items. A great deal for the store - let's get rid of our slow-movers without having to discount the price under the guise of charitable giving. PERHAPS a little cynical on my part, but probably not far from the truth.


The grocery guy also said there was a 'code' on their checkouts that allowed you to make a charitable purchase via cash and the store would send the money directly to the food bank or wherever. I've never seen these and I asked why isn't this option displayed at the checkout lines where people can see it?  I'm thinking more people might donate if they had this option. While Tom Thumb was certainly displaying it's prepackaged sacks on the counters at checkout, there was NO information regarding providing a cash donation that would be forwarded to the people who KNOW what is needed.


I will probably fire off some correspondence to Tom Thumb directly on this. I'll let you know if my REWARD CARD has been revoked.  And that's JUST HOW I SEE IT !!!! Thanks to Caroline for the opportunity.

Thank you, Fred, for getting that off your chest so I don't have to hear about it for the rest of the afternoon.

Bucket List suggestions

I have two Bucket List suggestions and if you've never been to either of these places, by all means go.  I am referring to Hattie's over in Oak Cliff in the Bishop Arts District and John's Cafe over on lower Greenville.  We went to Hattie's last night for Bruce's birthday dinner and once again it did not disappoint.  I only wish Hattie's had a small private dining room so it could be used for rehearsal dinners, birthdays, and other celebrations but, alas, it does not.  But even that's OK with me.  The food is always spectacular and consistent, which is saying a lot in a restaurant these days.  Yes, its a short drive over the Trinity but so what....it's fun to see the changing Dallas skyline.  It's worth the drive and Oak Cliff is such a blast.

  For his appetizer, Bruce had the cup of tomato soup and mini grilled cheese sandwich, which came sitting on the lip of his soup.  It was about the size of a silver dollar and packed a punch, dipped in the soup.  Great presentation and the soup was mind-blowingly delish.  No basil, but instead a smoky taste of that bacon was enough to make me almost levitate out of my seat.  I passed on an appetizer as I was having the shrimp and grits, and I'm glad I did.  But that soup sure would be great tonight.

Since we had not been over to "the Cliff" in awhile, it was fun to see all the new eating establishments that have sprung up since our last visit.  I also love the artsy nature of the area.  After dinner we did our usual stroll.  We passed one place that was closed but a little Boston bull dog came to the door.  For a second we were afraid she was all alone inside until we saw the reflective glow of a TV upstairs, above the store, where her owner lived.  As quick as she checked us out, she turned and headed off to the back, and probably back upstairs to watch TV.  I guess we were waaaay to dull for her.

Then this morning, off we went to John's.  There is just no better way to start a Sunday morning than over there.  The food, the mixed bag of people, and John's family, make the cruise down Greenville well worth the trip.  I usually vacillate between the breakfast special --eggs, bacon, sausage, or ham, hash-browns, and biscuits or toast vs a short stack of the world's best pancakes, with a side of bacon.  Coffee and a big old glass of ice water are always part of my order as well.  I've also had the Greek omelette and while big, it does not disappoint.  It may kill you but it will not disappoint you.

  On any given morning, you'll see Policemen, shaggy all nighters, families with little people, old people, Tats, piercings, you name it, and I love seeing all the people at the big long open tables, eating side by side.  Most end up chatting, sharing their newspapers, and pouring coffee for each other.  If you want a booth, there are lots of them--you just can't snag one until you've place your order.  It's the law, and everybody knows it.  If you are new, there's even a sign to keep you from embarrassing yourself. 

Ohhhhh, lawsie...a bright sun shiny day and a full stomach after a great breakfast.  How good does it get???

Vital Needs

In a group of gals I meet with regularly, we are looking at our Vital Needs and learning more about ourselves. According to the sheets I was given, all of us are born with seven vital needs and these never change.  My group is to read through all of the information, and then find our own basic seven.  If you have more than seven, that's OK.  We are then to rank them from highest priority to lowest and if you have more than seven, take the first seven, as those are your highest needs.  Then we are to give two examples of how we get those needs met every day.  The gist of the thing is this:  people who routinely get their vital needs met are less angry, frustrated, sad, and stressed out.  Those that don't are not a lot of fun to be around on a regular basis.  All of us can have a bad day--it's the energy drain people that need to make some changes for their own well being--never mind the rest of the world.

I remember the first time I did this was close to ten years ago, and the list of 25 vital needs to choose from felt over whelming.  I had a really hard time whittling down my list.  Shoot...I felt like all 25 were pretty vital to me.  This time is so different.  Last night, I came up with seven right off the bat--went back and removed one after re-reading it's description --and then marked two that could be "possibilities".  I just now made the decision as to the final one.  Doing illuminating work like this is fun to me.  I always walk away with some "nugget" I didn't have before I started.  Since I can get gritchy and out of sorts just like everybody else, it's always helpful for me to figure out what I really need vs what I'm actually thinking I need.  Sometimes I'm on it, sometimes I'm 50+ yards wide of the mark.  It should be interesting to see what I find out this time. 

And now for the Farm update from Cowboy John:  it seems the tank by the house is now full to the brim and almost overflowing, after the recent rain.  I'm sure that is great news to any remaining live fish in it, assuming there are any.  The bad news is, the dock is underwater.  Considering we just re-did the dock a little over a year ago, let's hope it surfaces soon since warped wood is not a good thing--even when it's previously been pressure treated.  Work continues on the gate (solar panel has a glitch), and since John and his roping buddies plan to use the paddock area by the barn soon for roping, he will be plowing up and turning the rock hard ground to make it nice and soft, and kill all the weeds.  Ooooo, I can hardly wait!  Add to that some baby calves and I'm in heaven!

Chickens in UP? Maybe

I noticed yesterday that "the chicken" issue was back in the newspaper only this time it was from one of the columnist, Mariane Greene.  As a chicken enthusiast, she had previously shown pictures of her girls and authored an article on the joys of raising and having chickens.  She was clearly throwing her support of chickens out there and as a result, I've decided to do a little information gathering.  I have a call in to the University Park Town Hall--the guy I needed to speak to was not in yet to ask a few questions.  So far, all I've been able to find out is there is an ordinance against raising chickens and it was put in place in 2008, after a Scouts project of raising chickens.  The boy was allowed to have the chickens for the remainder of their lives, and after that, no more chickens.  The receptionist I spoke with agreed that some people's dogs are a lot more of a nuisance than chickens, so just know whatever I find out, you'll know, too.  She did say chicken's (poop) is stinky and I agree it can be, if you have a chicken farm, a la Pilgrims Pride, but that's not what we are talking about.  We're talking about a limited number in the backyard, so stay tuned.  As a life long Bubble resident, how the vote for this kind of thing works is just something I feel I need to know and understand.  At 58, I'd say it's probably w-a-y past time.

I went by to see mom yesterday, after scoring a lovely pot of three purple hyacinths at the "Pickwick" Tom Thumb.  That's the little one in Preston Center East so named by me because its on Pickwick.  Kind of a no brainer.  It's always been a favorite of mine and their flowers and the HP Village store's, are always much better than the other stores.  When I arrived, mom was napping like a little child but I could see her fingers moving, so I knew she was not fully asleep--just kind of opossuming.  I sat down on the bed with her and put the flowers close enough so she could get a big old lung full and sniff of fresh hyacinth, and then she cried.  She always does these days and that's fine.  I'm used to it now.  She tells me how much she loves me, how grateful she is that I've come to see her, and then she often says something "out there".  W-a-y out there.

Back to the chickens--I just got a call from Steve Mason who works for the UP Town Hall.  Wow...talk about defensive....he would barely let me ask a question, for mowing over me.  Dude..not smart, but whatever.  He says a lot of what was in the paper is inaccurate--there was never a 9-1 vote.  He said the committee vote was 3-2 to uphold the ordinance, but the issue has been handed to a committee to see about coming up with guidelines in order to allow for backyard chicken raising.  He said he was actually there for the vote and it was clear that one person was wavering and in favor of allowing for chickens, with stipulations.  He said issues in the past were rodents, maintaining a clean environment, houses being close together, etc.  So, it sounds like it's far from over and that anybody who wants to raise chickens may be able to eventually.  You heard it here first.

I wanna read!

Today is the kind of day that makes me want to do one of two things:  cook like a crazy woman or grab a good book and not move for the rest of the day.  Unfortunately, neither of those is possible today but I will be reading at some point later today.  I started back in on a book I bought at Heathrow on our way back from the wedding, but had put down due to the holidays.  The title is The Crimson Petal and the White and it's a doozie.  On the cover it said it was a current BBC drama and that was all it took for me.  I was handing over my 9.99 pounds in a hurry.  It's the story of a prostitute named Sugar, and is set in Victorian London.  I'm a third of the way through and it's really getting juicy now.  I figure after lunch I can squeeeeeze in some reading time if I can get the rest of my stuff done this morning.  That's a lie....I'm going to read whether I get my stuff done or not.

For the moment it's stopped raining and I swear the green, new grass grew over night in our yard.  The birds are all chatting up a storm so you know they are happy.  I can see the buds on our trees so Spring just cannot be far away, even though it's not even February.  I noticed yesterday that my daffodils were on the way up, too, which explains why Tom Thumb didn't have any yesterday.  I think I was rushing the season a bit.  Another week or so and they'll have much better pickings for mom, but I'm not waiting.  I'm going to head over to Nicholson-Hardie for a sensory rush of warm, moist, Spring time smells and to pick something for her to enjoy. I hope the kitty that lives there is out and about.  He usually lies up on the counter or on top of the printer, since it's already warm and toasty.  One of these days I'm going to see if I can write a check, resting my checkbook on him.  I bet I can.

Left out words.  No matter what I do, I have them.  Even when I proof read, and yes, believe it or not I do.  It's just that I know what I am intending to say, so I tend to skip over any word that's not there.  Spell check doesn't catch them and neither does grammar check so I'm think someone needs to invent a LOW check.  Either that, or I need a robot computer system that knows what I meant to say and corrects for me.  Not like the auto correct on phones---Lord NO--just one that's adept to your "language style".  Seriously, where is Steve Jobs when I need him....probably working on new product development in Heaven.

Yesterday I started researching another climbing rose I'd like to plant in the back yard.  The issue is where I'd like to put it.  Location, location, location.  I think the space where I'd like to locate it will get enough sun but I'm waiting for our tree to 1) drop the rest of it's leaves 2) leaf out again so I can get a better idea.  If it doesn't work there, I have a plan B location along the back fence. 

I'm thinking I may slap on a jacket and go walk before the monsoon hits and then go get mom a little tee tiny rose plant for her room.  I saw them at Tom Thumb and considering this thing may not get a lot of care, I figured it might last longer than cut flowers.  Let's face it....January can get a little dreary without some color and flowers to look at.  Mom loves flowers so I think I'll just walk up there and see what's available.  A big fat hyacinth would smell lovely for several days.  Or daffodils.  Yep.  I'm outta here.

Frittata update

Whoa.  Well worth the effort and decidedly yummy.  I used a smoked Gruyere cheese that made the whole deal.  I will say there is a lot more finesse involved in the pan flip than they tell you.  It's not that the flipping part is hard--it's knowing exactly when to flip that takes a little experience.  It said "to flip when the top appeared to have set, all the way across".  Well.....do ya think you could give me a time range on that perhaps?  Like is that closer to 5 minutes or 15??  Then it said "flipping too early is to be avoided at all cost".  Wanna guess who flipped too early?  You can't tell me that and then expect that it won't happen to me, 'cause it will.  And it did.  And then I flipped it back...a couple of times.  And then I got sick and damn tired of waiting, so I flipped it out onto a plate, and since it was still a little jiggly, I nuked it, carefully.  Lord love me, it was the best damn thing ever!

Fred had two humongous pie shaped pieces and I had one, and then later he had more.  Think of the consistency of quiche, minus the crust, and that's how it was on your tongue...soft,creamy, flavorful, with a hint of green onion and ham, a smoky taste, and blanched spinach inside.  It was so good, I had the rest for lunch with a fruit salad.  But, I will need to work on the flipping part......it's just always somethin'.

Piddling v Diddling

Piddling v. Diddling.  Here's where I come down on both.  Piddling somehow is more positive.  Even though there's not a lot of activity taking place, lots is going on in the brain of the "piddler".  They are day dreaming as they piddle, and that's good for the body, mind, and soul.  You can piddle anywhere, indoors or out and it requires no tools.  As long as it's not a permanent condition, it's all good.

Now diddling is a different story.  To me, it's more of a procrastination tool--a dressed up attempt to avoid something specific.  Diddling is more about moving papers around on your desk, acting like you are doing something, so you don't have to do that which you are putting off, and would rather eat a worm rather than actually do.  See what I mean??  Diddling is bad news.  Don't go there.  There's lots of denial going on in the Diddler and people don't come out of denial until they want to.

Piddlers can drive you crazy but they are actually harmless.  Off in their heads, they have no reference for time.  Where they are, there is no time.  Piddlers cross the line, though, when they go to their "zone" and stay there.  For non piddlers, there is no hell greater than that.  Short of a cattle prod or a taser, you might as well just go on about your way and leave them alone.  You are not going to change a Piddler.  Ditto on the Diddler. 

Piddlers make me laugh--Diddlers make me mad.  Beware the Diddler.

And that's just how I see it.

Ooops...

Ok, Ok....maybe it IS my fault.  This afternoon was so beautiful that I threw open the den doors and a few windows.  I tossed Sis's bed outside with her pillows to air out, while I washed her doggie linens.  Everything should have been fine except we decided to make a Petco run, and I mentioned to Sis that she could "go".  With that, she took off flying and thinking the the screen door was still open like it had been a few minutes earlier, she never even slowed down.  Yep.  Therein lies the problem.  The bottom of the screen door released for the black torpedo of a dog that hit it, but the top, not encountering the same force, did not.  Hence we have a whacked out screen door and one a very mad male around here.  Sis and I are fine about it....we know accidents happen.  Him?  Not so much......unless they happen to him and then it's a totally different story. 

Below is a pic of today's birthday girl wearing her new wrap bracelet and I think maybe, a little lip gloss from her little girls make up thing we gave her.  Not sure.  I can't tell because she's always beee-u-ti-ful to me!

Tonight I'm making a frittata in my new pans I got for Christmas.  They are the coolest little things and I simply cannot wait to see how they actually do what they do.  I love the thought of hooking them together and then flipping them over.  Besides eggs, it's going to have apple wood smoked grated Gruyere, green onions, ham, parsley, salt and pepper and maybe some diced sun dried tomatoes, if I have any.  If not, I'll just drop back and punt.  I'm sure not going to the store just for that. 

Yay Friday!!

Well, drat.  The news on the puppy front is not good.  I had thought there was a litter being born in January --where I got that idea, who knows-- but none are expected until Spring.  Makes sense....so, we wait and see if any blue and tan smooth males hit the planet in April or May.  Meanwhile, Sister reigns supreme and continues to hold court around the Harris household.  No struggle for the throne, yet.

Last night, a friend of Fred's came by and there was a plate of warm cookies Fred had put down beside the two chairs in the TV room.  Luckily, I was still in here on the computer.  No sooner had Fred left to answer the door, than I watched her Royal Highness sidle over to the plate of cookies....  I sat here watching as she contemplated the best way to get the cookies...whether to knock the plate off and gobble them up or raise up on her hind legs, and snag them, like the lady she is.  It appeared that she was going the hind leg route before she encountered, "cookies interruptus".  Soooo sorry, Sis. 

It's hard for me to fathom that almost 4 years ago, Hadley McAdams Groth hit the planet but, yep, she did, and she'll be celebrating over the weekend, no doubt.  My mission today is to go find the girliest girl gift I can, and run it by to her house after lunch since I think she has school today.  Her mom said she'd most likely want hair doodads, jewelry, play make up, and things for a dressing table that she's getting.  I can feel what little Estrogen is left in my body, surging.
  There will be a small toll charged, however.  I trade hugs and kisses for gifts, when it comes to the smalls. 

Lastly, thought this was great and thought you might enjoy it as well.

Ahhh, c'mon....

Sticky, sticky, sticky.  I just read in the paper where the Highland Park Town Council has upheld a ban on having chickens in your backyard.  Not roosters, now--chickens.  This is despite the fact that neighbors of the woman requesting to over turn the ban, were in full support of her having the chickens.  The reason for upholding the ban?  The head of the Council claimed "several people" had said they didn't move to the Park Cities to live next door to chickens.  Translation: he doesn't want anybody next door to him having chickens. We're not talking a horse or a cow here--just little birds--that lay eggs. ( And if you are nice, just might wind up in your skillet some morning as a thank you.)  If you've never cooked with or eaten fresh chicken eggs, you have not lived. 

My thoughts are why not write up some guidelines and give it a six month trial.  No, we are not out in the sticks but that's just it.  Lots of people don't have access to farmland or a place to raise chickens so why not give it a shot.  After six months, if it's deemed a problem by neighbors, then give it the hook.  The lady requesting the over turn of the ban plans to wait until this particular Council's term is up, and then request again.  I'm with you, lady.  This bunch sounds old and constipated. Welcome to The Bubble.

Just make one!

The latest news on the liver transplant front is all good.  In ICU, recovering status quo.  A new life for a young woman who desperately needed help and got it from a family who must be grieving for their loss but thrilled for hers.  And life goes on.

The news for my friend with Lymphoma is they have a diagnosis of her lymphoma type, and a treatment plan in place.  Hers should respond to radiation so she's in my prayers as well.  Egads, didn't 2012 get off to a shocking start? 

On another topic, have you ever made a Goals, Dreams, Vision, "Who I am", collage?  If you haven't, it's the most interesting thing in the world to do for yourself.  All you need is a stack of magazines to tear out pictures that speak to you.  It can be words, titles, comments, anything that grabs you.  Don't filter anything and don't try to talk yourself out of anything that makes your heart sing or speaks to you because you think it's silly.  Just tear the damn thing out.  Assemble in a pile and grab your glue stick, scissors, and a poster board, and start attaching.  Let your inner first grader take over.  I go through my pile sometimes and see if I still feel attached to each piece I've torn out, before I place them.  Sometimes I like to do this over two days and see what pictures I add on day 2.  Once I've got my stack, on they go.  Sometimes what I thought grabbed me at first blush, doesn't quite do it for me when I get to the sticking part and that's OK as long as there's no "judgement" attached to why it's no longer making the cut.  Sometimes it's just a general "Nah".  But if it's a "That's stupid", on it goes.  Anything I'm judging has something to tell me. 

When you are finished, put it aside for a few days and go on about your business.  Then when you are ready, pull it out and place it on a chair, sitting it up, and see what it has to tell you about yourself, who you are, and what you really want.  You can do this to see what you really are most interested in vs what you may be doing now.  It's also an interesting way to see yourself change.  Your taste, your thoughts, and where you place your importance today vs a few years ago.  Yes, it feels a little artificial for about 4 seconds and after that, it's a total blast.  Cut loose...have fun...and see what you find out. 

What a Monday

 Yesterday was one whale of a day.  I found out that one of my friend's daughter's got a liver, and was in the process of transplantation around 5pm yesterday.  The donor's family and the recipient's family had a friend in common, (6 degrees of separation?) who mentioned to the donor family the desperate need of a liver for a family she knew, and the rest is history.  The details of the story will just blow your skirt up. 

The recipient's family had a family wedding last Saturday night in which the ailing girl was barely able to participate as one of her sister's bridemaid's, but she made it.  Great wedding, wonderful large family with everyone all in town for the big celebration.  The bride's mom was to have left late Sunday afternoon with friends, for a beach get-away out of the country, to rest and relax after the big wedding ta do.  The phone rang Sunday morning as everyone was having coffee and debriefing the wedding.  It was Baylor and they needed the ailing daughter ASAP.  Remember, now, all the family is still in town, and the mother has NOT left yet.  The daughter is admitted to Baylor, tests are run, the liver is a match, and the transplant took place yesterday. 

I'm giving you the abbreviated version but you get the gist.  A family member had been prepared, prior to the transplant, to give half of his liver to the girl if a liver did not appear in time.  That can be a really risky endeavor and don't you know he's breathing a huge sigh of relief?  Word yesterday afternoon was that the liver was in, working perfectly, and they were running a few last checks before closing up. I haven't heard an update this morning, but I am praying all is well. 

Stories like that just (and I've left out a lot of the details) just reassure me that there are no coincidences.  Things are always going to be OK one way or the other.  If I don't like the way something turns out, it's simply because I don't know the full story or the reason why that particular ending was necessary.  If I do like the ending, great.  Either way, I can still be grateful.

Lastly, I went over last night to see my ex-SIL's new place and to visit.  It is perfect for her as she starts her new life as a single woman.  Even though I don't like the outcome of her situation, I am still grateful she is in my life, and I can be loving and supportive as she starts her new journey.  And Jack dog....omg....he had my number within the first three seconds of us reconnecting.  It was so lovely it was awwwwful...we played, we loved, he licked, he kissed, he pestered, I asked if I could please give him a bite of cheese off the plate, and was told "NO...he's working you!".  Like I cared.

All in all, it's always reassuring to me know that life just works out the way it's supposed to.  Period.

Last night I had to get my TV watching organized.  Luckily, you could see most of the dresses at the Golden Globes (big woo) as they came up the red carpet.  I think the worlds worst job has to be making small talk with people who don't want to talk to you and asking "who are you wearing?"  Why not just have someone follow behind each gal or guy with a sign, and cut out all the small talk?  No dumb questions, no tongue tied answers, and we're done.  The person I do want the camera to follow and stay on is the head set wearing, keep 'um moving woman, who has to orchestrate all of the women and their "stop, pose, now haul ass your moments over".  You got to see her briefly in a blue dress last night, waving her arms, and she's like an air traffic controller.  I want to see her give 'um the hook and from what I saw of her arm movements, delicate she's not. 

In order to see Downton Abbey, the Good Wife got the hook completely.  Oh, well.  I figure I have all summer to see re-runs of it and DA is always going to take first place in my TV watching.  Last night's DA did not disappoint and all I'm sayin' is Matthew's mother needs to get a grip.  Back off, lady.  After DA was over, I channel surfed, since after it, everything else is small potatoes.

Tonight I have a date to see my ex-sister-in-law at her new place and to see Jack dog, my niece's Wigman clone, that she's baby sitting.  Long story--I'll fill you in later-- but suffice it to say it's just one more reason to hate American Airlines and their dog rules.  Like you really need another reason to hate American Airlines.  Tick...tick...tick...this day is just not going fast enough to suit me.  I can't wait to see them both.  I plan to totally hog Jack the entire time I'm there.  :)

Food Truck contest

I did it.  I pulled the trigger.  I decided I want to enter that contest on TV where you if you win, the food truck of your choice (I think I have that right) comes to your office, block, or where ever, and feeds up to 50 people.  OK...I think it's that many, so don't go all "details" on me.  I've only seen the commersh once.  Anywho, I think it would make a great mini block party, especially if you could get them to come on a Saturday when most people are home.  Even if it's a M-F type deal, I still want to win and I'll invite any readers /lurkers /followers, that want to come.  Shooot...I'll even invite any yardmen who might be working nearby.  And if it's chilly, I'll get the fire pit roaring in my front yard.  I'm lovin' that idea.  Now I just have to win.  And decide which truck.  Oh, yeah....I have to find out how to enter, too.  Details, details.

(I found the entry form online at WFAA.  Go ahead and enter.  You know you want to....)

How's your now?

Yesterday was such a lovely day.  Peace and quiet and a double pot of White Chicken Chili bubbling in the kitchen.  Jalapeno's and green chilies, onions and garlic just make for a great afternoon's work.  I also got to try out one of my Christmas presents from Fred.  I had asked for an Immersion blender but got oh, so much more.  The mini chopper that came with mine is so fast and easy, I'm finished chopping by the time I could have pulled out my big food processor. I haven't tried the whisk yet or any of the rest of the blades.  I'm proceeding with caution.  So many toys, so little time.  Ha.

I also had a chance to call a friend who is in the hospital, and recently diagnosed with Lymphoma.  While I absolutely hate that for her, she was just as hilarious as always, even after having had a stroke on Thursday.  While in the hospital, she told me that she had asked about needing her blood pressure meds as her blood pressure crept up, and was told she was OK.  Clearly not.  If you are EVER in the hospital and have an inkling there's a problem, raise hell until you get an answer that seems reasonable to you.  Pay attention to your gut.  She said she was brushing her teeth, and realized the left side of her face wasn't moving. So, she walked down to the Nurses Station and said "I think I've had a stroke" and suddenly all hell broke loose.  Well, yeah.  I bet it did.  I'm not sure if White Chicken Chili fixes strokes, but I think it may.  I'll have to google that.  :)

After talking with my friend, it made me realize just how important living in the "now", and appreciating it, really is.  Now, this minute, is all we really have.  How's your now?

Pinterest...

I ran by mom's the other afternoon knowing I wouldn't see her since she was at the hair saloon.  I had some things to drop off and wanted her to have them ASAP.  As I rounded the corner into Mom's room, there sat a little lady with her back to me, watching TV--Mom's TV--in Mom's room.  While ordinarily this would be weird, on mom's unit, it"s becoming more and more the norm.  I never know who I'm going to run into in mom's room anymore.  The lady is just a hoot.  She is the mom of a gal I know and is the resident "newbie" on the unit.  This wig wearing little lady is the happiest person over there.  Her tag line for everything is "Isn't this FUN??!!!" said with such childlike enthusiasm and glee, you can't help but chuckle.  Smack dab in front of that TV, she was happy as a pig in mud watching Mutiny on the Bounty, with Marlon Brando.  She'd grabbed one of mom's little side chairs and was so close to that TV, she could have reached out and touched Marlon, if she'd she wanted.  After hanging up mom's gear, I tippy- toed out, and left her to her movie.  Still makes me smile thinking about it.

Pinterest.  I'd seen it online before and decided to investigate it further, thinking it could be a great to organize my pictures of house details I love, and other design details.  So, I clicked the "send me an invitation to join" button.  Yeah...an invitation.  No sooner had I clicked it than an email arrived telling me....you better sit down for this part...that I was on the waiting list and they'd be back with me soon--to get me started pining.  Oh, my...rather chi chi, no?  I sat here and laughed so hard my coffee got cold.  A waiting list to pin pictures? Sure, I'm buying that.  Sounds like they are a little behind in their cyber set up and what a great con to perpetrate on people that they have to 1) be invited  2) that they are so poop-u-lar that they have a waiting list.  Makes it ever so exclusive and you know how people are when they think something is by invitation only.  Amps up the cool quotient to the tenth power.  Ohhhh, so 5th grade.  I'll let you know if I make the cut.  The screening process may be really sticky.

Lastly, Sis has her tail in a knot this morning.  It seems the hunters did decide to go to the Ranch and proceeded to load the car, eat breakfast, and then leave--without her.  Once they left, she flew back to our room, whining and tattle-taling that they'd been mean to her and left her here.  She's now sitting in her bed looking out at the driveway, praying they just went to get gas, and are coming back for her.  Bad news, Sis.  Some days you just can't win.

Peace and quiet...ahhhh

Eureka!!  No jack hammering and no bulldozing noise.  I finally figured out where it was coming from after pining on my PI badge.  My neighbors a few houses down are remodeling their back yard and putting in a new pool.  The surface of the one they put in ten years ago was cracking, so that's been all the jack hammering.  Oy, vey.  And here I thought pool's were supposed to last longer than that.  Silly me.  Ours lasted forever before our old house was torn town.  I think they probably had to blow that baby out of the ground.

Coffee with my buds yesterday was the absolute best.  Two hours of gab, biscotti, cookies, and coffee in front of a fire.  The fire part was almost a problem when the smoke came seeping out the front of the fireplace... and, yes, the damper was open.  I think it was the position of the logs and our ohhhh, so elderly fireplace.  I poked and prodded a little and voila'--up the chimney it flew.  I must mention that a certain fat black girl enjoyed herself enormously and managed to almost snag Adre's biscotti out of her lap, while acting all friendly and welcoming.  Never trust Sis.  It's always about the food and never about being glad to see you.  Sad but true.  Sis even stole  Betsy's chair when she got up to take a phone call.  By the time Betsy returned, Sis was almost asleep, all snuggled in Betsy's spot.  Like I said, never.. trust.. Sis.

I want to give a shout out to Nicole, mother of the smalls, who has the shingles.  Luckily, for her, this is the kind that is not painful--just something you'd rather not deal with.  Here I am a nurse and I didn't know there was a type of shingles that didn't hurt.  Glad to know that.  If you've never had shingles (the painful kind), you don't want that kind either.  Hugs to you, Nic! 

Fred and Brian may make a quick trip to the Ranch in West Texas this weekend.  They haven't decided yet.  Those two crack me up.  You'd think they were trying to decide whether to fire Scud missiles.  They will not decide until about an hour before they leave.  That's just how they roll.
Lastly, today is Friday the 13th.  Don't step on any cracks, walk under any ladders, and avoid black cats.  Not that I buy all that....I'm just sayin'. 

Uh, ohhh....

I know it's not wise to discuss politics and religion, especially at the same time, but you know me, I'll give anything a shot once.  What I have my knickers in a knot over is the recently passed Abortion issue.  It's  bad enough to me that we are even having this conversation at all.  As a Pro-Choice Nurse and Woman, I am already nauseous that women are even having to do anything other than sign a consent form in order to terminate an unwanted pregnancy.  But to be forced to watch a sonogram prior to termination, is over the top, cruel and unusual. If that's the case, why don't we force/require new parents to watch their baby boys be circumcised.  Hey, we still even have that choice-- to have our sons circumcised--even though we are not asking the baby how he feels about this idea.  We just assume we know best and make the decision for him. But a woman can't even terminate her own unwanted pregnancy, in her own body.  We again assume we know what's best for her.  She's an adult and can speak for HERSELF, and if she's not an adult, we can still ask her what she'd like to do, after giving her the options. Gently. 

And if that's not enough, let's go one step further.  Let's take the victim of a rape or incest.  I'm thinking either of these women have been traumatized enough, but no, we've all decided that we know what is in the best interest of someone else and their body--namely a rape or incest victim.  And most incest victims have been raped.  Repeatedly.  Let's be sure to traumatize them further, with a sonogram, and require them to watch it.  Let's have a doctor detail everything out for them, so they can feel even worse, because you see, we're good Christians, or not, and we know what's right for everybody. 

That's NOT what the God of my understanding means when he says love one another.  There's nothing loving in forcing our solution, on someone else.  Love is giving someone else the choice to choose what is right for them.  Maybe not what's right for you, but them.  Anything else is control.  Trying to control someone else is not loving, I don't care what excuses you use. And, no, none of us know what's right for someone else.  And if you think you do, go look up the word arrogance and see if your picture is there.

In my world, no one has the right to tell anyone else what they can or cannot do with their own body.  Shoulds and oughts are nothing more than someone else's opinion.  Just like this one is mine.  Worth exactly what you paid for it. Nothing.

And that's just how I see it.

Look who's in town

Tick...tick...tick.  No puppy news to report.  As a refresher for anyone just tuning in, I'm waiting to hear from a breeder if this litter may have a blue and tan male smooth haired man-child who might want to come live with us, and pester Sis for the rest of her days.  No word yet, so I'm thinking momma dog may not have delivered yet but I believe she's due right around now.  It's not a for sure thing but I have to admit, it is fun thinking about a small blue smurf ultimately running around Casa Harris.  We'll see.  "Mr. No" (aka Mr. Mertz & Fred) may tweeze and pull the plug on the whole idea.  You just never know around here.  But I have come up with a name for him.  Fletcher.  Fletch for short.  Fletcher and Fred....and since Fred's middle name is Felix, maybe his full name could be Fletcher "Fred" Felix Harris.  (If I name him after Fred, there's no way he can say no.  Heh, heh. :)  Meanwhile, my niece's clone of Wigman, Baby Jack, is in town so I'm going over Monday night to play with him.  I'm gonna get me some man-dog one way or another.  He's delish, isn't he??

I am grateful to report this morning that for the moment, the bulldozing and jack hammering somewhere close by has stopped.  We are on Day 2 and I'm about to lose it.  My little slice of Afghanistan.  I think it's back behind us somewhere but it's still really loud, so heaven help the people right next door.  If I lived next door, by now I'd be standing in the front yard, armed to the teeth, wearing those orange head phones like the guys at the airport, with a SWAT team on the way over.  I don't know what it is about getting older, but loud noises drive me right up a wall.  They grate on me like nothing else.  And as we all age, let's face it, louder becomes better-- but not in all cases.

Mr. No says he and his sidekick had a Bun sighting over the weekend.  Bun, the rabbit, was back on the corner of his block, all stretched out in the bushes until Sis spotted him/her.  Luckily, Sis was still on her leash and not practicing her dad's "voice commands" or no telling where either Sis or Bun might have ended up.  And Sis's yelping??  It would have been ear splitting...deafening...a shoot that dog moment.  And it would have been our dog.  Ahhh...shoot it anyway.

This afternoon I'm having two of my favorite gal pals over for coffee and a good gabfest.  We'll delve in to latest best read and loved books, updated scoopage on other interesting subjects du jour, and I know I'll end up feeling like I always do: that we just need to do this more often.  Can't wait.  Just have to stick the cookies in the oven since what point is there to coffee, if you don't have a little naughtiness to go with it?  We're Southern gals after all.  It's the law. 

Everyday miracles--big and small

I just had coffee with an old friend and her new BF.  To say that he is delightful is an understatement. To say that she is deserving of someone as neat, is another understatement.  I find that so interesting.  She has been through Hell and half of Georgia, and had I known what all she would face in her life, I think I'd have gotten back in bed, pulled the sheets over my head, and never come back out again.  Even though it's not me, just experiencing it all with her along the way,  gives me reason to believe in miracles and the fact that you just never know what's in THE BIG PLAN for your life.  To see her happy is just a thrill for me.

Way back when, if miracles happened for me, I didn't always notice them.  I only figured a miracle was a miracle if it was a HUGE one, accompanied by crashing cymbals.  Today I'm more tuned in to the big and the small ones.  The small ones are just so much fun and so subtle.  You really have to be paying attention to notice them, and when you do, they are so smile worthy.  The big ones are fun, no doubt, but the small ones are every bit as meaningful to me.  I like anything that makes me stay "tuned in" and aware, with my focus on the here and now.

While chatting, I heard several miracles as she talked--things that a few times gave me chills.  Good chills.  The kind that remind you that there is a power greater than just us human beings in charge, and that he/she has got us and our backs.  This power only wants the very best for us--even when the going looks like anything but that.  Sometimes you have to walk on through a pretty dark tunnel to come out the other side into the sunlight, and a breath taking view.  The view was the miracle gift all along--you just couldn't see it from all the mud, darkness, and overgrowth outside the tunnel. The choice was to walk on, or turn back.

Miracles.  Are you watching for yours???  Are you walking on or turning back?

Trendy tree fort?

Days like today are so delicious.  It's rainy, and all I want to do is crawl up in a comfy chair, Nook in hand and read until I can't any longer.  It's a homemade soup kind of day.  And a nap day.  A wrap up in a quilt or throw, kind of day and just drink hot tea and let the world do it's own thing alone.  Never mind I won't be doing any of these things--it sure is fun to think about, though.  Sis will be napping all day, so at least that's one of us.  The Vet couldn't find anything wrong when he punched around on her back, which essentially means nothing, so she's all whacked out in her bed on a doggie pain killer that I wrap in a little bite of cheese.  Since I was feeling sorry for her, I washed her bed fluffies and took one straight out of the dryer, and laid it right on top of her.  I swear I think I heard her groan.

I think we may have partially solved the why is mom still falling out of the bed riddle.  She's trying to get out of bed by herself.  Since she can't walk--a fact I think she perhaps forgets--she's meeting the floor on a fairly regular basis, even with the half bed rails.  Mystery solved, at least for now anyway.

Fred had a really important mystery himself yesterday.  It seems that after he dragged umpteen leaf bags to the front for the big pick up, several hours later, all but three were gone.  Hmmmm.  I sat down at the computer and within a few minutes here were three little boys out front dragging the last three bags across the street over to the Emperor's, on the side street, for their Christmas tree fort.  When it stops raining I'll go shoot a pic since this is the first fort I've ever seen where they have the trees standing up, instead of on their sides.  Perhaps this is a new trend in tree forts.  I may have to google that.

Are you my mother??

I'm thinking there's a hawk close by since all of the birds are squawking like crazy out front.  Especially the crows.  When they start up you know something is going on.  In the past, it's been Fred standing outside with a pellet gun.  I think his talley on crows is still around one.  They are anything but dumb and warn each other that Jethro Bodine is out front or in the back when they see him coming.  The doves don't seem to be that smart.

A big congrats to Beyonce and Jay-Z on the brith of their baby girl last night.  Don't you know that's gonna be one spoiled little somebody??  Jay-Z is going to be hilarious with two women keeping him busy.  I bet that baby's feet don't even touch the ground for at least a year, if then.

And speaking of spoiled baby girls, mine is not feeling good...or at least that's how it seems.  She's been acting droopy for several days so now it's her turn to head to the Vet.  OK...I don't go to a Vet but whatever.  She's in her bed and just doesn't seem like she wants to ever get out of it.  Frankly, I can relate but I just want to be sure she's OK.  She's just not the droopy sort.

And now for the mom drama.  My sister went by to see her yesterday and called to tell me mom was all tarted up again with a boat load of black eye make-up.  Before, for the Holiday dinner, they put a little make up on her so she'd look nice.  This time?  No reason-- and it was over-kill deluxe.

  I don't know who the aspiring make up artist is over there, but let's just say he/she needs to stop.  This is not the career path for them.  By the time I got over to see her yesterday, mom had rubbed her eyes a few times and was all raccoony so I came back later with eye make up remover.  She was sitting with the group watching the football game when I got back, so I just squirted some remover on a cotton ball I'd brought.  Immediately one of the group ladies says "What are you dooooing?"  This is the same lady who asks me who I am, every time I'm there.  I told her "I'm taking off this war paint" and she watched intently.  (That entire cotton ball was covered in black eye make up.)  Then I got ready to do the other eye.  Right on cue the same lady asks "What are you dooooing?" again.  By now I am laughing and so is mom.  We weren't laughing about the same thing-- but we were still laughing.

  Post removal, mom's caregiver for the day, also named Paula, showed me where mom's make up case was.  It was hidden under two pillows at the foot of her new bed.  Whaaaaat?  We were laughing our heads off as we dumped out almost every thing.  For sure anything black-- old eye pencils, ancient mascaras, and elderly eye shadows-- and a few blushes.  Grrrrross.  I even found an old pocket knife.  Again, whaaat?  I left mom some lipsticks and a little foundation and I swanny, if I get over there again, and she's all made up, heads are gonna roll.  I doubt it will happen again since I asked Charlotte (the charge nurse) to pass on what had happened in report, but honestly, it was kind of funny.  My mom with black eyebrows is something to see.

Part of me wants to pack provisions and drive to Ikea and the other part of me would rather eat a worm.  Egads, why does it have to be in Frisco?  That's right before Oklahoma.  I've been once before, right after it opened and a bigger sea of people I have never encountered.  You could barely navigate the store.  Why exactly do I want to go?  I don't know.  I just dooooo.  I may do it on a week day so as the avoid all the people. 

A friend of mine went on Christmas Eve afternoon with her son who was in town.  She's re-doing her home and needed his input, so they spent several hours practically alone at Ikea, shopping, eating meatballs, and having a blast.  Maybe that's why I want to go. But I'd need her son.  He's Mr. Decor and puts things together like those guys on TV.  He can just look around and gather...and it all works.  People that can do that instantly become my God of Interior Design. 

And speaking of personal design, look who has taken to dressing herself?  Yeah, her personal style is evolving but who cares what she looks like as long as she thinks it's mahhhvelous, and clearly she does.  Avery even diapers herself and her mom says it's usually hanging on by a thread, and eventually falls completely off.  Potty training is in the works but when you've just turned two, sometimes there are just more important things for a gal to focus on.....like your phone, sparkly shoes, and socks with those shoes.  And of course, your shades.  Very Hollywood.

Lastly, this is your reminder to tune into Downton Abbey Sunday night at 8 PM, on PBS (13).  There are shots from the filming in the new Town & Country mag and an article on the real Eighth Earl of Carnarvon and Lady Carnavon and shots of Highclere, that masquerades in the show as Downton.  The Earl and Lady C are the current residents of Highclere and part of the reason they rented the house out for the filming was financial.  The projected repair bill for Highclere is around 12 million pounds (gasp) due to it's age. Some 50 of it's 200 rooms are uninhabitable-- leaks, mold, etc.  The good news?  They are set to welcome the cast back  for a third season, so we're good for another year, at least.

The Hunting continues...

There are two fully feathered, uncleaned, or even breasted, doves lying in a zip lock in my refrig that I almost mistook for something else at lunchtime.  Egads, Harris...come home and pluck these little lovelies and put them in the freezer with the rest.  You almost gave me a heart attack when I saw the little feet on those two.  Sis is a totally different story--she wants me to open the zip lock and let her sniff and chew around on them.  Siiick. 

And speaking of chewing around, old Sis was the lucky recipient of my steak bone the other night and chewed that bone clean as a whistle.  Once it was clean, she brought it in through her doggie door to chew on the rug.  And, in her bed.  I guess that's sort of like room service for dogs.  No wonder she hasn't wanted to get out of bed much.  It must smell like steak to her.  You know your dog is just totally rotten spoiled when 1) you leave the bone in a bag for her BF to give to her when he gets home 2) he takes a clean towel outside for her to sit her royal bum on, while she chews  3) you let her bring the bone in the house, post chew.  It must be great being one of our dogs.    

Happy weekend to all!

A real eye opener

Wow.  This morning is already off to an early start.  A little before 8 AM, Mary called and that's usually not good news when she calls that early.  It seems she was having a rip the back door off the hinges emergency that simply could not wait one second longer.  She was making cookies, and needed a teaspoon of baking powder.  She was out.  No sooner than we hung up, she was on my back porch with her little container, for a teaspoon of baking powder.  Even bad old Sis wasn't out of bed yet but here was Mary, hair uncombed and a coat thrown on.  I had to laugh when she left.  I guess at 81, maybe you really do need that teaspoon of baking powder in a hurry.  She didn't say, but I'm betting she has her bridge ladies tomorrow so that's why she's got such a burr under her saddle.  At 81, I'd be sipping my coffee, waiting for the Festive Kitchen to open so I could go get my frozen dough and be done with it.  But Mary is a frugal old gal and probably has nothing better to do this morning than make cookies, so good for her!  Plus....she's not a coffee drinker.

I read the article in this mornings paper about the guy who currently holds the record for the most "hits" as a sniper.  Dubious award, no??  He said as a SEAL, he never aspired to be a sniper--he was voted by his pals to take the training, so he did.  He sounds like he has managed to deal with emotional and psychological aspects of the job pretty well.  He said deciding if you can really kill someone on that very first shot, is the hardest.  Well, yeah...  I'm not thinking for me it would get any easier until I saw one of my guys get killed, and then maybe pure adrenaline would help some.  But afterwards...yikes...I don't know.  I do know this: since I probably couldn't hit my car sitting in the driveway, I'm not likely to face this situation and for that, I am grateful.  It's a job and I am thankful he did (or still does it) for me and my safety.  I'm just glad it's not my job.

Yesterday I heard back from the doggie dermatologist at our Vet office.  Yes, she has seen some blue and tan dachshunds with some alopecia, (hair loss) but not a lot, and no more than usual.  Heck...even old Sis has a little place under her collar, on her throat, where she has no fur and life wouldn't be worth living without that old gal.  Is there a screening test for puppies to see if they'll end up doing "the hairless hot dog"?  Noooo.  Essentially, you pay your money and take your chances...roll those dice, baby.  Sure you can ask a breeder and look at their adult dogs, but that's no guarantee of anything.  That little old hair loss gene can be lurking back generations, just waiting for you.  Could you get a great dog with out it?  Yeah.  It's just a matter of how lucky are you feelin' ??

That said, I don't even have a serious contender yet to make a decision even necessary, so we'll just see what shakes out.  And speaking of shake up, did you see on the Internet where another Catholic priest, bishop, whatever, has stepped down at the age of sixty, after admitting he is the father of two teenage kids, who live with their mom in another state.  Frankly, that's not really that big of a deal to me.  In fact, it sounds down right human.  Admittedly, I am not Roman Catholic and while I respect their beliefs, I'm wondering if that centuries old celibacy rule has created more of a problem than it's really worth.  I personally cannot imagine being counseled by a RC priest or even the Pope, on a marital issue, when neither of them has ever been married.  That's sort of like me telling you what walking on the moon is like, and I've never done it.  I just don't get that.  Hells bells....there's just a lot I don't get.

Lastly, I've decided that even though I no longer work as a nurse, I'm damn glad I am one.  Last night I had a little personal issue come up and because of my chosen profession, I was able to diagnose and treat myself--or at least use my knowledge to get myself comfortable.  I had a pretty good idea I knew what was likely going on, and could talk myself out of calling my doctor at midnight, since I could predict what she would tell me to do.  Rarely am I my own patient but it is sort of handy to know something.  This morning I called and did what she asked me to, and had already done what I really needed to.  Sooo, yee haw on that. My education finally pays off for me.

The SPCA and Pecan Lady

Well, dang.  My hopes of seeing the new SPCA were thwarted this morning when we arrived, and were told they didn't open until noon.  Never mind their website said 10 AM.  I'm thinking they could have publicized that minor fact but whatev.  When we were asked if we "could come back in an hour or so", we told them "Uh, no".  Despite it's lovely outside appearance, since that's all we got to see, it's not real easy to find--at least not as easy as the old one.  Double rats on that fact.  We were not the only ones who did not know about their noon opening--one lady and her two daughters were surrendering a big old orange cat and a small black dog, and I didn't have the heart to tell her to get back in her truck and come back at noon.  I figured I'd let the SPCA people do their own dirty work.  We did get one great laugh, despite our disappointment.  Since we made it through the first set of the entrance doors, we did get to see the photograph of Jan Rees-Jones.  The part we liked best was....she's photographed in a ball gown, holding one dog, with another dog at her feet.  Yeah....on the wall at the SPCA.

Yes, I do know that she and Trevor donated the facility and probably the land it's sitting on.  Their last name is plastered on the outside of the building.   But a ballgown??  Really??  I was thinking more of a shot of her in jeans, rubber boots, and a power hose, washing out the dog kennels.  Or a shot of her lying down, covered in dogs, in a play area.  Something a tad more appropriate to a wall of the SPCA than a woman in a ballgown, holding a dog.

And speaking of dogs, a certain someone around here just hit the jackpot and is riding in her brother's lap as we speak, on her way to the Farm with both of her boy friends.  She knew they were going somewhere fun, so she laid down on the doormat by the back door, so they couldn't possibly open the door, without taking her.  She's lot of things but dumb sure isn't one of them.  I packed her coat and a travel water since it's likely to be chilly and she'll get thirsty after all of her running around.  They may get themselves a drink, but it's me that takes care of her.

Lastly, the pecan lady.  OMG.  I made my second trip over to their yard a few days ago.  Previously, I had rung their doorbell and asked for permission to pick up pecans.  An adorable young twenty something guy answered, I handed him a ball I'd found in their yard, and asked if it would be OK to pick up pecans.  He could not have been sweeter and told me to "take all you want and come back any time".  So, I got busy.  A few days later, I went back to pick up a few more, before we were to have gotten rain.  Out the front door blew this harridan..... who immediately started in with "Oh, yeah...I heard about you....You're the one who brought the ball...really...my youngest kid is 16..it wasn't ours.  Take a few but the leave the rest for us...I like to give them as gifts".  All of this as she steamed past me.  I stood there stunned.  She crossed the street to go walk, I picked up two pecans and she yelled " OK...that's enough".  With that I left.  I left feeling like I'd been hit by a bus.

As Fred and I sat on the driveway, cracking pecans, I told him what had happened, and how she had reacted.  I was still just in shock.  We finished up and I decided to fix her wagon but good.  I took all of the pecans we had picked--all were halves-- and all were perfectly cleaned to get out the stuff in the ridges.  (Toothpicks are the answer if you don't have nut tools.)  Anyway, I poured all of them into a zip lock, closed the bag, and took them over to Ms. Hell on Wheels, and gave them to her.  She wasn't home--which is the best part--so I left them anonymously on her front porch, leaning the bag against her front door.

  She clearly is not a real happy gal and I don't know what her circumstances are, so rather than be pissed, I figured it made more sense to be nice.  It takes a lot less energy and is tons more fun to think about what she must have thought when she got them.  Hopefully, it made her think for a minute....  Maybe not.  But it sure was loads more fun.  Needless to say, other than encouraging Sis to poop in her yard, my pecan picking has been moved permanently.

2012--so far, so good

Spoiler alert:  I just saw the clip from the Today Show for season 2 of Downton Abbey and despite what People magazine has to say about it, I know I'm going to love it, so mark your calendars for next Sunday night at 8 PM, on PBS.  Never mind it will be on at the same time as The Good Wife.  I'll be watching DA.

That said, here is an update on mom.  It seems it's time to have her sleep in an hospital bed since she keeps rolling out of hers.  The nice thing is, this is the kind that can be lowered to within six inches of the floor, so if she rolls out, it's not like she's going far.  Policy and procedures manuals require the use of only half bed rails, so she won't be trapped in bed the way people used to be.  If we keep her in her current bed, one of these days she's liable to roll out and break something--namely a hip--and that might be the end of the trail for her.  Better safe than sorry.  We'll get the switch out handled this week.  I'd like to see if we can get one of those neat water bed mattresses so we can cut down on the possibility of pressure sores.  As much as she sits these day, that's going to be an uphill battle.  To prevent further skin tears, mom will be sporting  Geri Sleeves ...these protect the tender thin skin on the arms and elbows of the elderly.  I learn something new every day.   She's still rockin' the little soft furry boots I got her, so between the Geri Sleeves and her boots, that's going to be some look.

When I went by the other day, I found a bag with some other ladies jackets in mom's closet.  As hard as the staff works to keep resident "roaming" to a minimum, sometimes it just happens.  Not sure if this was a laundry error or what, but I did have to laugh.  When people don't have a clue where there room is or what they are doing, things are bound to travel.  Mom's TV remote took off for a few days but it turned up in someone else's room.  When Bruce and I ran by the other might to check in on mom, she was down the hall watching TV with the group.  One lady took an immediate shine to Bruce and wanted to shake his hand.  She fairly beamed at him, and there's no tellin' who in this world world she thought he was, but he clearly made her day.  I may have to drag him back more often now that he's got an admirer.

According to the news, the new SPCA facility opens tomorrow and I'm dying to go down and see this new space.  Lord knows they've needed it for ages and from the one picture below, it looks lovely.  No, I won't be dog shopping, but there's no law that says I can't go in and love on a few furry friends.  I may have to go see both the dog and the kitty side.