Gas update

Nope...we don't have any, and neither does anybody for about 6 blocks. And with two little electric heaters going full blast, I am pretending "we are camping out"--in Antarctica. The puppies are snuggled in here, too, but not in their dog bed, oh, no. They are asleep in the big fluffy white chairs with fleece blankets--seriously. I am watching The Who at the Super Bowl half time show, with my long fleece coat on, drinking ice tea. I know that last part is weird but Snapple Diet Ice Tea is my drug of choice and the coat is very necessary. Especially in view of the ice tea part.
There's a coffee clatch of Atmos trucks in the church parking lot down from us and my assistant has headed down there for some scoopage. Channel 8 interviewed him earlier but I doubt he made it to the big screen at 6pm, much to his chagrin. Turns out the gas problem started last night about 10 pm. My assistant has just returned with the news that "they're still working on it". Gee...really??? They then plan to go door to door relighting people's pilots, if needed. A late date with Atmos...I can hardly wait.

Well, hell...

At least it would be warmer there. I awoke this morning to dogs barking and a brisk 60 degrees in our house. As I went to let the puppies out, I grabbed my coat and gave the thermostat a big old shove. Fine. No response. Nuttin'. Next came a lovely wake up call to my partner that we had no heat. After checking the breakers, we thought things might be OK but boy, were we wrong. Now, as I sit typing this, I am clutching my coffee for warmth, in my coat, over my pj's, waiting for the Atmos Energy man. And a second Atmos Energy truck just went flying--past our house. Notice I said past--with his lights blinking. Once again....aw, hell. And they said we couldn't start a fire in the fireplace either. And maybe that does make sense since the gas seems to be the problem but awwwww, hellllll. It's cold.
If this nonsense continues, I may just have to spend the day in bed, under the covers with my puppies, watching TV and reading. Bruce wants me to call our neighbor and ask "if she has gas"...somehow I think I need to rephrase that. Seems a little "personal", don't you think??

Helloooo, Henry

This morning I saw a dog I've never seen before. He was a Lucas Terrier, 12 weeks old, perfectly behaved (at least for now) and adorable. He is the first of his kind in Dallas, his mother was quick to tell me, so a big fat la ti da on that. His name was Henry, and he was every inch a Henry--right down to his snoring. Another friend had one of those yap-yap Yorkie's in her purse and though cute, I've just never been a Yorkie fan and when my friend told me her other one had died from falling down the stairs at her house, that sealed the deal for me. No thank you. This one's name was Daisy --please....Daisy?? I don't think so.

One of my favorite people has an Airedale named Bebop who is hilarious and as big as a Smart car. When she comes over to visit, she hooks his leash around our Adirondack bench out front and he snoozes in the grass. Sister and Wigman would probably like Bebop to come in but Muffin would totally stroke if he did. He can barely tolerate Sister as it is and one look at Bebop might cause Muff an early demise

Another friend has two dogs, Rosie, who is some kind of mixey matchy something, and a rescue. I'm not sure who needs rescuing now more--my friend or Rosie. It seems Rosie has some anxiety issues and chews doors. Seriously. She calls Rosie her ten pound termite and has already replaced two doors, at her ex husband's beach house. You go, Rosie girl. He was a total t*** anyway, so cheap hollow core doors here we come. Her other dog is....well....a closet dog. No, he's not gay...he just lives in her closet with her clothes, and doesn't like to come out. Except to go outside--when it suits him. The rest of the time....well, you get the picture... which explains his name. Rat Bastard. I kid you not. The first time I heard my friend yell "Rat Bastard", I thought her ex had just driven up. Finally out of her closet slunk this smelly old thing, Rat Bastard. I jumped in a chair and lifted up my legs so he couldn't rub up against me and I like dogs. Just not this one.

The deal breaker for me with anything is if it smells. If it stinks, see ya. Wiggles and Sis can get a little doggy from time to time but I'm talking seriously stinky here....bad stinky. I don't get it with people whose animals smell....Hello.....got a sinus infection, do ya? Your olfactory not workin'?? There's just not enough dog shampoo in the world for that.

Oh, Happy Day!!

The sun is out. I'd almost forgotten what it looked like. And it's a right delightful afternoon since the little red-headed Jeffrey Dahmer wannabe across the street maid took his air horn away from him. Hmmm...I just thought I had a headache before. Now I really do. This is the same little boy who shot two of our windows with his BB gun. This is same BB gun that was only to be used in his backyard, I guess so he could only shoot out his own windows, instead of the neighbors. Unfortunately for him, his older sister ratted him out having seen him in the front yard, with Mr. BB gun. Boys will be boys....

My sister and I decided to be sweet girls and take mom out to lunch today at one of her favorite places, Highland Park Pharmacy. We figured it was not only a nice thing to do but even with her dementia, she couldn't possibly do anything inappropriate in a place full of kids and old people. And she did fine--she just had a minor problem with her chocolate "sofa" (soda). It had so much ice cream stuck around the top that when she tried to put in her straw, it practically erupted. The rapid eye contact between my sister and I was hilarious and mom kept right on working on her chocolate soda, totally oblivious to us. We mopped up the spill and got her a saucer (our waitress was new and still learning the ropes ) so lunch went fine. You just can't beat a good old tuna or chicken salad on wheat all the way or a palm beach (pimento cheese). Some people reading this will order a goose liver from time to time, but they don't get to kiss me for a week if they do. Ughhhh. Nasty.
My sister took care of the check while I took mom back to the back to get two to go containers-- one of chicken salad, one of pimento cheese--- for mom to snarf on over the weekend or during the Super Bowl. When we asked her about the Super Bowl and if she was going to watch she said enthusiastically, "Of course...I want the Bengals to win!" Allrighty then....moving right along. I did not dare even glance at my sister..... we were trying so hard not to laugh as it was.
And, yes, I came straight home and made appointments with nearby facilities to tour them and start moving ahead, for mom. Dang...she IS funny, though.

Yummmmmmalicious

I am still in my pj's, drinking coffee at my computer, and just hanging. (Don't tell the Warden...he'll kill me). Oh, my lord.....who knew life could be this good on a rainy cold Thursday. If I had my way, I'd stay just like this all day but I do have some errands to do, so I guess I'll have to give this up at some point. But some days, you just need to call in old, or tired, or whatever and take a personal day. I once called in "old" to my boss telling her I was not sick--I was just whipped, and she laughed so hard, she told everybody at the office. Oh, well. Sometimes you just have to do it.
I did have "a moment" yesterday evening when I just went over the wall--that would be the CHOCOLATE wall, in specific. I had just had E- freaking-nuf of South Beach and decided to make my friend Adre's, friend Louise's, Chocolate Fudge Pudding Cake.
It's like a gooey chocolate brownie or molten chocolate cake and takes a big fat 5 minutes to throw together. Then you can cook it to be how ever you like it--I'm about a medium goo girl. I like the edges to be a little crusty, after it cools somewhat but not thick. Think chocolate souffle consistency. Think death by chocolate and dying with a big ole smile on your face, with a spoon in your hand. And the best part is, I did not get any comments from the diet Warden. He didn't even give me the rolled eyes or the "Nooooo-dul" like he usually does when I've gone AWOL. Nope. He grabbed a spoon and went right after it with me. I even threw a dixie cup of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream on mine, and the rest was pure heaven. Hey,..... go big or go home.

And since now all of you are droooooling, I'm gonna include the recipe here so your pants will all be too tight tomorrow, too. Hey, it's the least I can do for friends.

Recipe: Fudge Chocolate Pudding Cake

Mix together: 4 eggs , 2 cups sugar, 1/2 cup flour, 1/2 cup good cocoa, 1 tsp. good vanilla extract

Add: 1 cup (I used less-1 1/2 sticks) melted, cooled butter & 1 cup chopped pecans or walnuts
(I toasted mine, first)
Bake: 350 degress for 30 minutes in lightly greased 8x8 " pan (20-25 min. if you want it nice and gooey) Bake until it looks done around the edges but still jiggles in the center.

Serve: with whipped cream, ice cream, or eat it straight from the pan!

Doubles easily; just adjust the cooking time. Can be poured into individual ramekins--adjust cooking time.

Feelin' blue...go to Nicholsen-Hardie or Calloway's

Yesterday was a total gas. I went to my favorite gardening spots to soak up color and buy some plants for my friend whose husband died. I wanted to cheer up her front pots but decided I better ask before doing it. I wanted it to be an anonymous surprise but then I realized my gesture might be the last thing in the world she'd want done....like maybe the pots were the last thing her husband potted and even though he's gone, and they sure were, she might not be ready for that yet. So I emailed her. Woo hooo. Green light.
Someone had already pulled up her oh, so dead red salvia that bought it in the last freeze and stuck a big old purple cabbage, still in the original container on top of the planter. Well...ok...I guess that's a look --just not the one I was going for. So I threw my gardening gloves, spade, plant fertilizer& trash bag (hey...I'm full service here) in my trunk, and headed out to see what might work. OOOO, la la...hot pink, white and red cyclamen, pansies in every color imaginable, mini tee-tiny cabbages and kale's in purple white and pink, primroses to die for, dusty miller for fill in, ivy for a trailing effect since the pots are big and tall. I nearly stroked over all the lovelies!
I had to go with winter hardy plants since we could still have a freeze but that didn't hamper my selection at all. Add to all that a big sack of potting soil, and I was back on the road to her house.

Once back at her house, I unloaded and got to work. The sun was out, the birds were singing (OK maybe they weren't but I like the idea) and my hands were digging in the dirt. Ahhh, just a blessing even if it does get down your gloves a little. Undoubtedly, for me, the best part was it was all done in love for someone else. Yeah, no doubt it's fun to do your own pots but being of service to someone else, is the whole ball of wax for me. Could she pot her own pots eventually?? Well, of course she could, but that's not the point. It was just a little something for someone whose world just shattered. She didn't need food, was surrounded by her sisters and another gal who, so far, does not appear to know when to go home, but that's OK (and none of my business!). Right now distraction is good. And so is a little springy bright color when you're feeling lower than a snake's belly. So I placed, I rearranged, I fluffed, I added fresh soil higher, and finally gotter dun'.

I found a broom, swept up my potting soil spillage and gathered up my trash, loaded up, and headed for home ( a whopping 3 blocks away.) Windows down with the cool air blowing on me, life was just gooooooooood. And her's will be again, too--just not for quite a while. I'm hoping a little color might help.

Magazines...so many...so little time...

I have to admit it--I just love magazines. They are better than a quick 48 hour vacation and there's no packing involved. The only problem is, they either make me want to totally redo my house or cook. (I like to garden, but not when its cold.) And they inspire the heck out of me for a good 20-30 whole minutes. I always think that I want to move somewhere after reading or looking at some place. The only problem is, after I'm through reading or looking at all the neat pictures of one place, I see someplace else. Or, I like all three places and can only be in one at a time. I think I just like too many things and my built in screener, that should weed things out, doesn't. And then my brain gets congested with all this .......stuff.

Which brings me to something I hate and I'm usually not a hater. I don't get a hate on for many things, but this one is just deserving. I hate mascara and pantyhose---the uncomfortable nude kind that are so old school. And mascara is just gross. It makes your eyelashes get all crispy and crusty and then it flakes--in your eyes, underneath your eyes, everywhere. And taking it off is just THE WORST. You have to use some kind of gooo to get it liquefied so it'll come off, and then half your eye lashes come out wiping off the goo. I thought the point was to make your eyelashes look longer--not make them fall out.

And panty hose....omg. First they feel like sandpaper against your legs. And then they contort you into some sort of abnormal human shape squeezing you like a tube of toothpaste, with a crotch that either grabs or sags. Whyyyyyyyyyy?? I just flat refuse to wear them. They are a medieval form of torture. Whew....I feel soooo much better getting that out.

And FYI: DO NOT google panty hose pictures unless you are prepared to hit some really disturbing sites.....whoa. I did not see that coming.