I’m sorry for not communicating, but sometimes it’s very hard to write on a moving planet September 25, 2008
Busy, busy, dreadfully busy August 6, 2008
Here’s the scoop:
1. I am alive.
2. Thank you for asking.
3. Things were very busy.
4. Oh, wait. They still are.
That’s … pretty much it. Hello.
Me = Being consumed whole by new job and lots of other activities, but
Me = Still loves you. Really.
You = Patient. And also,
You = Good looking. Did you get a haircut? Is that a new shirt? Because
You = One sexy beast. I’m just saying.
Anyway. Y’ALL. This new job? The one I haven’t told you about yet. The one where I am when I go to work in the morning? It is really BUSY. They want a lot of this “work” business, and apparently it will calm down soon, once I learn what the heck I am doing, but right now I am hoping someone will just show up and KILL ME ALREADY because Hoo Boy. Ow, with all the work and learning. It hurts my head.
I’m only human, Boss People. I know I look capable; that is an illusion! In reality, I don’t have the faintest idea of what I am doing! Shh!
But … uh. I couldn’t allow that last post to remain for one minute more, so here I am [Hi!] typing drivel.
Because I love you. So it’s loving drivel. Don’t hate me today. I JUST CAN’T HANDLE IT.
Okay, see, there was this thing? And then there was this other thing, and the net result of all of these things, and all of the SHEER PANIC and TERROR inspired by these things, and then, there was this:
I’m taking on a new role at work.
See how I said that? Taking on a new role? I’m wondering if that accurately conveys how I’m not just changing roles, but in ADDITION to the role I already have, I am “absorbing” a whole NEW role? One that another human being used to do. As their job. Like, as their ONLY job. But now I’ll be doing it, on top of the one I already have. See that? Two jobs at once. And contrary to how I seem to be freaking-the-heck out about it. I AM happy about this! Wheeeeee! [See? Happy.] I had even verbalized before how if I had to have another job, this would be the one I’d want to have. But I will admit that I am suffering from a harsh case of lack of confidence in my own abilities, I have concerns people. Everyone else is completely confident in me. Thanks. You’re sweet.
I’ll let you know how that’s going.
And also, there has been the perpetual stream of evenings [occasionally even followed by some early mornings] parking cars at the ATP Tennis Tournament. This is a requirement of the Mish kids & their parents [the acting group Ashton is in]. They make a lot of money from it. It’s a good cause. I keep telling myself that. Anyway, the ATP tennis tournaments, wherein I have been berated, yelled at, shot the stink-eye, and I’m also pretty sure one lady told me to blow something out of somewhere. Because she wasn’t handicapped and I was working the handicap lot and apparently I take my job very seriously.
On another occasion I was working the golf lot [which means making sure that if someone pulls in there that they are, in fact, golfing & not walking over to the tennis tournament. It’s the principle, people.] So a man pulled in and I’m all, “Good morning sir, what are you here for?” [NOTE: Do NOT ask them if they’re golfing, because, y’all, PEOPLE LIE!] So he’s all, “YES, is that ok with yooooooou?” “Um, yes. [jerk] But, if you’re golfing, how come you don’t have on a collared shirt?” A-HA! SUCK IT! I’M A GOLF LOT GENIUS! “I’m going to put it on after I shower. Ohhhhhh,kkkkkkkkk?” <blink> “Ohhhhhh,kkkkkkkkk”, I responded. And then, cinching up his face as if he’d just got a whiff of a dirty diaper filled with Indian food he went, “Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!” <blink blink> “Well, you have a good day sir. And also, I hope for your sake that you walk in with clubs or you’re getting towed. Have a nice day.” <smile>
Did I mention that we’re leaving on Sunday for vacation? Are. Which will also entail getting our very bad dogs to the vet to be kenneled, except for Buster Brown, who is fortunate enough to be spending the week with my dear friend Holly & her girls. He’s being evaluated for adoptability so he’s been given instructions to “turn on the charm”. There will be a hefty price to pay for bad behavior. He’s been warned [wink].
Working, learning, parking, shopping, delivering, planning and packing. What in the heck am I doing on the computer!?
Once I have mastered ADDITIONAL ROLE ABSORBTION, completed infinity hours of parking cars & survive family travel, they should probably name a holiday after me, and I think we should all take it right now, no matter where we live and whether or not we like Andy Griffith, I think we should look past our little differences and just take a nap.
Anyway. I love you. And I will be back in a few days, with something interestinger. Hugs!
Pet Sitting Guide [or how to deal with way too many dogs who refuse to be housebroken!] May 22, 2008
[Forgive the wonky formatting. I don’t know what’s going on there …]
Tomorrow, the fam and I are going camping with the Sexton’s & her brother’s family, for the weekend. And you may already know this, but camping entails a LOT of preparation y’all! So, while I don’t have the time to get in to it right now, I did find it funny that when I sat down to write out pet sitting instructions to leave my Mom for our three, small, very bad dogs, I realized something. Not only are they bad, but they’re really high maintenance too!
Pet Sitting Guide [or how to deal with way too many dogs who refuse to be housebroken!]
Let dogs out OFTEN.
Let dogs out prior to leaving & immediately upon returning.
Give them a treat when they come in [1 a piece; either a frozen green bean or biscuit. Green beans sparingly unless you want to walk around little green land mines all weekend.]
If a #2 accident occurs, please pick up & flush or chuck into the yard. Clean up of a #1 accident is at your discretion. We would appreciate if you would drop a paper towel over the accident, step on, and then discard it. Understandably, if this is outside of your realm of comfort, just leave it. If this were the case, tiny “Wet Floor” signs would be appreciated so we’ll know where to clean up. [Just kidding, of course … but we will need you to point them out].
Max gets a full cup of food.
Millie gets ¾ cup of food.
Buster Brown gets ½ cup of food.
At dinner time only, add a serving spoon full of the organic wet food to each of their bowls [sort of adjust the amount according to whose bowl you’re filling ie. large scoop for Max, slightly less for Millie, rounded spoonful for Buster Brown. I usually cut it into the dry food with a fork & knife but if this is above & beyond the call of duty, just plop it on top.
The little dogs eat in their locked cages. Max eats in the dining room.
Let them all out about 15 minutes after they’re done. Make sure they actually leave the porch to go potty. This is roughly how long after they eat before they need to shit.
Feed roughly at the same times you’d feed yourself. Breakfast, lunch & dinner.
Max can sleep with you but the little dogs need to sleep in their cages. You can leave the gate down at this time.
Keep gate to upstairs closed whenever the puppies are out.
Enjoy your weekend!
Y’all have a wonderful, safe Memorial Day weekend! If I have the strength, I’ll tell you all about mine on Monday [possibly after shampooing the rugs.]
A dog photoblog February 22, 2008
Ummmm. Urine trouble. February 8, 2008
[First of all, why do we do that? You know, like when someone does something wrong. We feel compelled to give them a heads-up because, ‘you’re definitely looking at a dirty beating for that one’. We’ll be all, “Umm-m-m-m!” I mean, what is that? The wind-up? The anticipation builder – for dramatic effect? Anyway, I just didn’t realize how bizarre it was until I wrote it out. Man, we’re a bunch of weirdos.]
So first of all, thanks to everyone who has emailed with advice about how to train and housebreak the puppies. It was all very helpful. And basically things have been getting gradually better, though we’re a long way from the 8-weeks without incident mark that will determine when the puppies get to live among real furniture and not just appliances. It’s a slow process.
Last week, however? Last week was not good. Not at all good. The puppies get along very well. So well in fact that I’m fairly sure they’d tell you that they’re BFF’s. They play together, go potty together, nap together & share plates of spaghetti and meatballs [oh, no, wait]. That is, until one discovers a chew stick, which the other has left, ignored and abandoned, lying about. This is a chew stick, which one or the other could not be bothered to chew. They’ve abandoned it because they’re not in the mood for it. They could not be bothered with that chew stick.
Until, of course, the other finds it. Then suddenly, from across the room: One will recognized THEIR chew stick [the one with the soggy, pasty end is MINE!] And somewhere, somewhere deep inside of their pea-sized brains, synapses fire, and weighing their options, they decide: I shall attack.
In less than a split second, they’ll then, without warning, fly across the kitchen and what you have then people … is the OCTAGON.
[I did a picture of Buster Brown & Millie in an actual Octagon in paint, but it won’t let me upload it. I’ll work on it.]
So, we’ve been putting Buster Brown in his cage every day since we got him. Which, he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Millie, on the other hand, she gets fee-urious with us and starts with the :::whinewhinewhinewhimperwhine::: And that’s hard to listen to, y’all :::yelp::: And in her defense, she was really making great strides before she took up with her rebellious new BFF, who has taught her all sorts of new tricks over the last few weeks. Such as how to strategically poo & pee just across the gate where the humans step into the kitchen or how to shred carpet in your cage and how to eat the ‘things of wood’ [ie. chair legs, trim, cabinets, THE GATE!]. So now, you maybe guessed, she’s no longer allowed to
taunt Buster Brown roam freely throughout the kitchen during the day when we’re not home. Until she remembers her manners.
I feel really bad doing it to her because she was doing so well. Plus the whole HATING IT thing. But chewing the trim is apparently a deal breaker according to Harold. So starting Monday she too has been in her cage during the day. I put them both in just before I fly out the door, so I won’t have to hear her cry. Because I’m a wimp.
Harold’s Monday a.m. phone call to my office:
H: So how’d your morning go?
H: How were the dogs?
Me: They were good.
H: Did you put Millie in her cage?
Me: Yes. I put her favorite blanket and stuffed animal in with her. I gave her a chew stick and a bowl of water and her tennis ball and one of those puffed rawhide things she really likes. Oh. And I also filled her Kong with treats and a puppy chew and gave her that too.
H: And then did you introduce her to her personal assistant?
I have to run. It’s time to go meet my family out for dinner & a little antique shopping [wheeeeee!] Have a great weekend, y’all!
A bad beginning January 28, 2008
Happy Monday! [or is it?]
Oh my gosh, you guys. I don’t know what’s going on, but apparently I have caught some sort of funk that causes everything in my vacinity to fall the hell apart right before my eyes. You should maybe RUN! Everything is breaking. Car, kids, my spirit! Every damn thing.
As for the car, see, for the past couple of days it’s been making sort of a *clunkclunk* noise. It happened one of those mornings when it was miserable degrees farenheit and when I started to pull out of the driveway I heard the initial *CLUNK*, maybe also accompanied by a *SNAP*. A little foreshadow-y I’m maybe thinking now. I mentioned the *clunkclunk* to Harold, who leapt into action to resolve the situation. Cause that’s how he rolls. He surmised that it was probably the plastic casing over the battery that had come loose and was clunking around in there. Whew. Case closed. Or so we thought.
So yesterday he thought it would be a very responsible thing to do to take the van in & drop it off for routine maintenance. Did y’all know that was something you should do? Take a car in for service when it’s running FINE? Because my thinking has always been, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Apparently that’s not man’s way. I followed him to the garage to drive him home. Upon getting in the car he was all, “So have you heard that noise any more?” “Yes.” “What? Really?” “Yup, it’s actually worse since you tinkered with it.” *fume* He turned down the radio & turned off the heater to have a listen. Sure enough, it sounded like I might drop my engine with each bump. The man-person was very concerned. We stopped at my Mom’s & he checked it out & lo & behold, he pulled from behind the wheel well a piece of bent steel that looked like the top part of a shepherds crook. This was eventually determined to be a part of a SPRING [maybe something was said about it being something that holds up the suspension? I can’t be sure. I’ve amazingly gone my whole life without retaining any knowledge of things like that.] Needless to say, the terms “needs to go into the shop” and “not safe to drive” were mentioned. I remember those parts. Sigh.
Additionally, Maddie went to her first “slubber” party on Saturday and came home with a fever & throwing up. She went directly to bed and didn’t come out the rest of the day. She had a fever but this was only confirmed by the “feel the forehead test”, because our digital thermometer was dead & our mercury one [which had been in use since I was a baby … so like, for 29 years. Shut up.] had broken too. They don’t sell the mercury ones any more. Did y’all know this? And I was bummed about it because I think they’re the most accurate and I feel like a genius every time I use them, because lets be honest, those things are hard to read. But I could & it’s now been taken from me, rendering it one less cool thing I’m able to do. Stupid toxic mercury. I mean, basically, don’t let your kid bite them in half & you should be ok, is my thinking. Right? But I digress.
I couldn’t decide between the little plastic strip that you put on your forehead or the digital kind, so after consulting the pharmacist & her recommending the digital kind, I bought the forehead one. Because you can’t tell ME what to do, lady! So, 20 minutes later, after I had driven back to exchange the forehead one for the digital one [whatever], I was back home & taking her ‘real’ temperature, which turned out to be like 100.8 [not 96.0, like the plastic piece of crap said]. Which is actually substantial for her, because we tend to be like 97.0 normally. She stayed in bed the rest of the evening. Can I just tell you that this kid is the easiest sick kid I’ve ever seen. Never whiney or demand-y. Let me give you an example. Ashton came down at 9:00 to tell me good night and I said, “You should tell your sister good night … but don’t expect her to answer, she doesn’t feel good.” And Ashton was all, “Oh, she’s awake. She just threw up.” “Huh-what?” “Yeah, but it’s ok, I rubbed her back & put her hair up. She’s fine.” I immediately headed up stairs to check on her & she was resting comfortably in her bed. Like nothing had happened! Which is astounding to me because when I was a kid & sick, holy hell, look out. I’M SICK PEOPLE. RECOGNIZE! I REQUIRE DRY TOAST, HOT TEA AND A NEW REMOTE CONTROL CAR [true story, I really did finagle a remote control car when I was sick once, hee hee]. But not Maddie. I asked her if she was ok & she said she was. I put my hand on her belly to ask her if she still felt woozy & realized that the front of her shirt was all wet. “Maddie, did you throw up on yourself?” “No.” “Then why is the front of your shirt all wet?” “Daddy put a wet washcloth on my belly to make it feel better.” Of course he did. Because that’s what you do. You didn’t know? You put a sopping wet washcloth on your stomach when you’re nauseous. Because that makes so much sense. IF YOU’D LIKE ALSO TO CONTRACT PNEUMONIA! [I really must not die before my children are grown.] “That was very sweet of Daddy. He’s a good man.”
Anyway, she’s home today but seems to be on the mend. No more fever & hasn’t gotten sick since about 9:00 this morning. She’s even managed to keep a popcicle & some chicken broth down, so that’s a good sign.
My car however, is still broke the hell down & I’m stranded at the house, unable to go to work until Harold gets home with the spare car [which, thank God we have given the fact that one’s in the shop & one’s heading that way].
2008 is scaring me.
But on a better note. The puppies are doing GREAT! I owe my sanity to Kongs and cheap wooden gates. We’ve had relatively few accidents since the installation of ‘newly implemented potty rules’ and nothing has been chewed or destroyed since the insallation of the Kong’s *heavenly music plays*.
Anyway, I hope y’all are doing better than this and that you don’t lose an eye or break a mirror or fall down a set of stairs as a result of reading this. I am not safe to be around right now people. I cannot insure your safety. I can say that my week has to get better than this — but that’s really all I can say.
Terrier takedown January 25, 2008
Hey you guys. I don’t have time to formally update you on the newly implemented systems we’ve put into practice for the puppies. But. Hello! I can say are nothing short of MIRACULOUS! Anyway, more on that tomorrow. I have to hit the hay, but in the meantime here’s maybe a little glimpse of what life with puppies is like:
Buster Brown want to know if you want a piece of Buster Brown?
[can you tell that he’s actually sitting on Millie?]
It’s Friday y’all! Wheeeeeeee! [suddenly regretting the 11:30 p.m. cup of coffee] Have a great day!