No matter what the calendar says, summer doesn't really start here until 4th of July weekend. We had a few warmish days recently but then the weather gods remembered this is the Pacific Northwest and we were blessed with a few days of steady rain. They're predicting a long hot and dry summer and watering one's lawn becomes a really expensive budget item. Water is our most expensive utility, almost as bad as gasoline so rain in the warmer months is a plus.
Rain out here isn't just ordinary rain. When we lived in Miami, it rained lightly or heavily or during monsoon months, it poured like it was coming out of faucets. Out here, there's rain, thick rain, mist, drizzle, showers, hail, thick hail, icy rain and sleet and snow. I may have left a few types out but that about covers it. In Florida, showers were intermittent rain; out here, showers are steady rain. Rain is light rain and thick rain is LARGE raindrops. Where did these weather people go to school? Rain is rain. It's brief or passing through or light or heavy. Period.
Which begs the question...
"I don't want you jogging in the rain, bambina."
By definition, that means he doesn't want me jogging in light rain. The rest is good to go!
Oh goody!
"Okey-dokey."
"I mean it, Sar. If it's raining, you're not jogging. Are we clear on this?"
"Uh huh. No jogging in the rain."
"Why are you being so agreeable?" the Neanderthal asked with an arched brow.
"Would you rather I argued with you? Would it make your manly demeanor more... uh... manly?"
SWAT!
Tsk.
"And if you're going shopping at the mall today, park in the underground garage so you don't have to walk in the rain."
"Underground garage... check."
"And take a sweater in case the temperature drops again like it did last night."
"Sweater... check."
"And don't fill up on all that junk food. We're eating at the commandant's house tonight and I want you to have an appetite."
"No filling up on junk food... check. And the commandant's house for dinner... check."
"You're cruisin' for a bruisin', bambina."
"Cruising for a bruising... check."
SWAT!
Tsk.
The base commandant's house for dinner: The end of the world is here! The commandant is a meat and potatoes kind of guy. His wife is a vegan! What is wrong with that man? Couldn't he have had a mid-life crisis and married a platinum blonde 20 years younger than he is, with a single digit IQ, breast implants, fake fingernails and collagen lips?
If I am doomed to push green things around my plate all night I'm going to load up on real food! I'll dash off to the mall, park in the underground garage, take a sweater with me, and load up on burgers, onion rings, and milkshakes. And to be sure I don't fall asleep during the scintillating dinner conversation, I'll gulp down a few Cuban espressos so the caffeine will give my eyes that wide-awake look.
Thinking... I bet the commandant would love a basket of my homemade apple crisps and peach muffins. While he's eating them I could sneak a few bites of his steak...
"And don't plan on bribing the commandant to share his meal with you, imp."
Honestly, the man has turned into a mind reader!
"Me?" asked with a truly innocent look.
"You!"
Swat!
Tsk.
~Sar~
Friday, May 26, 2006
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Dread & Doom!
You ever see one of those eccentric guys that walk down city streets carrying a billboard sign that says, "Repent! The end of the world is coming." Well... His Holiness never says that but he acts as if "dread and doom" are imminent if I happen to wake up with the sniffles.
An occasional bout of the sniffles does NOT mean I'm coming down with a cold, bronchitis, or pee-numonia. I consider the sniffles to be the nose clearing its chambers same as one clears one's throat. Post nasal drip and all that.
"Yeah, yeah, drink this," the Neanderthal orders as he hands me a vile looking liquid in a short glass.
As if...
"Over my cold dead body!"
"Not gonna tell you again, imp. Drink!"
"Kill!" I yell to the dogs and make a run for it.
"When I catch you, you're not gonna sit for a week!" he yells back as he tries to disentangle himself from close to 300 lbs. of dog fur and cold muzzles and tongues licking his face.
Such a precious picture seeing him on the floor with my pups. I'd take a picture if I wasn't in a big hurry to get the hell out of Dodge.
When I'm anxious to get out of his line of fire, I skip the stairs and slide down the banister. I'm out the back door, across the yard and my outside Rotts - Tank and Panda - come charging toward me. Jeez. COLD noses but sweet warm kisses. I promise to come back and love them up later but right now, I spy a giant squid coming out the backdoor and he doesn't look friendly.
Thinking...
Up a tree or in the Rott kennel? Which is safer?
I go for the tree and am almost high enough to be out of his reach when he yanks on the bottom of my pajamas! DIRTY POOL!
My jammies come down! He laughs. I am mortified and I tell him he'd better eat out for the rest of the week.
"How dare you!" I yell.
"Easily," he laughs.
"There are laws against this," I tell him.
"Not in my house," the giant squid retorts and a couple of hard swats later, covers my bare bottom with his excessively large paw... er, hand... and we go back into the house.
Unfortunately, I still have the sniffles.
"Where were we?" he asks as he gives me one of those smug male grins.
"You know... sniffles could be allergies. Lots of stuff in bloom."
I know, I know. It was a feeble attempt but when you're already facing dread and doom, you try anything.
And then... I SNEEZED! TWICE!
Acckkkkkk!
"That's what happens when you run in the backyard barefoot on the cold grass in the morning and wearing next to nothing."
"YOU were the one who pulled my jammies down."
"And I'm the one who is gonna warm your tush."
"You're a Neanderthal!"
"Uh huh."
"You know there are other ways to warm me up."
"Like what?" said with a big grin.
I made a few suggestions.
He liked them. *smiles*
And the band played on.
~Sar~
An occasional bout of the sniffles does NOT mean I'm coming down with a cold, bronchitis, or pee-numonia. I consider the sniffles to be the nose clearing its chambers same as one clears one's throat. Post nasal drip and all that.
"Yeah, yeah, drink this," the Neanderthal orders as he hands me a vile looking liquid in a short glass.
As if...
"Over my cold dead body!"
"Not gonna tell you again, imp. Drink!"
"Kill!" I yell to the dogs and make a run for it.
"When I catch you, you're not gonna sit for a week!" he yells back as he tries to disentangle himself from close to 300 lbs. of dog fur and cold muzzles and tongues licking his face.
Such a precious picture seeing him on the floor with my pups. I'd take a picture if I wasn't in a big hurry to get the hell out of Dodge.
When I'm anxious to get out of his line of fire, I skip the stairs and slide down the banister. I'm out the back door, across the yard and my outside Rotts - Tank and Panda - come charging toward me. Jeez. COLD noses but sweet warm kisses. I promise to come back and love them up later but right now, I spy a giant squid coming out the backdoor and he doesn't look friendly.
Thinking...
Up a tree or in the Rott kennel? Which is safer?
I go for the tree and am almost high enough to be out of his reach when he yanks on the bottom of my pajamas! DIRTY POOL!
My jammies come down! He laughs. I am mortified and I tell him he'd better eat out for the rest of the week.
"How dare you!" I yell.
"Easily," he laughs.
"There are laws against this," I tell him.
"Not in my house," the giant squid retorts and a couple of hard swats later, covers my bare bottom with his excessively large paw... er, hand... and we go back into the house.
Unfortunately, I still have the sniffles.
"Where were we?" he asks as he gives me one of those smug male grins.
"You know... sniffles could be allergies. Lots of stuff in bloom."
I know, I know. It was a feeble attempt but when you're already facing dread and doom, you try anything.
And then... I SNEEZED! TWICE!
Acckkkkkk!
"That's what happens when you run in the backyard barefoot on the cold grass in the morning and wearing next to nothing."
"YOU were the one who pulled my jammies down."
"And I'm the one who is gonna warm your tush."
"You're a Neanderthal!"
"Uh huh."
"You know there are other ways to warm me up."
"Like what?" said with a big grin.
I made a few suggestions.
He liked them. *smiles*
And the band played on.
~Sar~
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Red Toenails
Whenever the giant squid goes into overprotective mode, I tend to get stifled. I know he means well but let's face it: Fragile, I'm not. His remedy for my recent malaise is to tell me to rest, eat more and remember happy times. I admit I'm not the best "sleeper" on the planet but when my body is plain worn out, I'll sleep. As for eating... green things are not high on my list in case you didn't know that unless we're talking apple green jellybeans, green M&Ms, kiwi, pistachio ice cream, honeydew melon and lime sherbet. The giant squid didn't get any of those items when he decided to do the grocery shopping the other day.
Men! When women are feeling less than perfect, they like to eat "comfort" food. And you can't tell me his mother didn't eat comfort food. I know she did and while his father probably rolled his eyes when she did - sort of like Cowboy does when I reach for chocolate, I'm sure he indulged her because he loved her. I told His Holiness those exact words and he made a sound somewhere between a snort and a sound of disbelief. This did not stop me from consuming two Heath bars before he put a GREEN antipasto on the table. Naturally, I had to fill up. After living with him for eons, you'd think he'd already know I was only going to eat the cheese and the meats and leave the icky green things for him.
"SARRRR!"
SWAT
Tsk.
I called the grocery store and added a few items to be delivered along with the pizza (pizzaria next door to grocery store) and told the man to put everything in a separate bag and leave it on the doorstep when Cowboy closed the door. I would retrieve everything as soon as he went into the kitchen to open the pizza boxes.
So there I was, bending over - groan - retrieving goodie bag from doorstep when an arm went around my waist, a hand landed on my butt (a LARGE and HEAVY hand) and a growl I have heard more than a few times blistered my ears.
Good God! The man has radar!
"You're going to make me deaf if you keep doing that!"
"I'm going to light a fire on your tush if you don't eat something nutritious before you eat anything else."
SWAT
Tsk.
Nutritious? Pizza is nutritious? Okie dokie, folks. You read it here! Pizza is nutritious! YES!
"And just how did you know there was more than pizza delivered?" I asked as I scarfed down a big piece, slipped another to the Rott and yet another to the Mastiff when the giant squid stuck his head in the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. The beer got the Mastiff's immediate attention.
"I saw the bill."
Oops.
"And after you eat you're going to bed," the Neanderthal announced.
"I'm not sleepy."
"You keep that attitude and you're going to sleep on your tummy."
Giant Neanderthal.
"Bet I can make you change your mind," I told him as I stole the pepperoni off his pizza.
"On your tummy for several nights in a row," he added.
Attla the Hun Neanderthal.
"I'm feeling pretty rested, actually."
"You're not caught up on rest. You're going to bed."
"Am not."
"Don't argue with me, Sar. End of discussion."
"Is that so?" I arched a brow in his direction, folded my arms across my chest and nudged the table with my knee so the can of beer would tip over the side. The Mastiff sprung into action, slurped the spill, grabbed the can in his jaws and tipped his head back. Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle.
I couldn't help myself. I laughed.
The Neanderthal couldn't help himself. He upended me and landed a few and I told him he was dead meat.
"Yeah, but I'm your dead meat. Upstairs, now."
Tsk.
So... I went upstairs, took a shower, and brushed my hair so it hung nice and long and curly. Then I got into bed, painted my toenails red - fire engine red - and positioned my body, clad in a brief camisole and thong, on the pillows and waited for the giant Neanderthal to come upstairs to see if I was in bed.
Giant Neanderthals cannot resist red toenails. It was a l-o-n-g time before he actually let me fall asleep. (I'm planning to have a "green" breakfast very soon - green jellybeans and pistachio ice cream.)
~Sar~
P.S. Sincere thanks for the sweet comments to the blog and to my e-mail addy. You fill my heart with your kind words and I thank you.
Men! When women are feeling less than perfect, they like to eat "comfort" food. And you can't tell me his mother didn't eat comfort food. I know she did and while his father probably rolled his eyes when she did - sort of like Cowboy does when I reach for chocolate, I'm sure he indulged her because he loved her. I told His Holiness those exact words and he made a sound somewhere between a snort and a sound of disbelief. This did not stop me from consuming two Heath bars before he put a GREEN antipasto on the table. Naturally, I had to fill up. After living with him for eons, you'd think he'd already know I was only going to eat the cheese and the meats and leave the icky green things for him.
"SARRRR!"
SWAT
Tsk.
I called the grocery store and added a few items to be delivered along with the pizza (pizzaria next door to grocery store) and told the man to put everything in a separate bag and leave it on the doorstep when Cowboy closed the door. I would retrieve everything as soon as he went into the kitchen to open the pizza boxes.
So there I was, bending over - groan - retrieving goodie bag from doorstep when an arm went around my waist, a hand landed on my butt (a LARGE and HEAVY hand) and a growl I have heard more than a few times blistered my ears.
Good God! The man has radar!
"You're going to make me deaf if you keep doing that!"
"I'm going to light a fire on your tush if you don't eat something nutritious before you eat anything else."
SWAT
Tsk.
Nutritious? Pizza is nutritious? Okie dokie, folks. You read it here! Pizza is nutritious! YES!
"And just how did you know there was more than pizza delivered?" I asked as I scarfed down a big piece, slipped another to the Rott and yet another to the Mastiff when the giant squid stuck his head in the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. The beer got the Mastiff's immediate attention.
"I saw the bill."
Oops.
"And after you eat you're going to bed," the Neanderthal announced.
"I'm not sleepy."
"You keep that attitude and you're going to sleep on your tummy."
Giant Neanderthal.
"Bet I can make you change your mind," I told him as I stole the pepperoni off his pizza.
"On your tummy for several nights in a row," he added.
Attla the Hun Neanderthal.
"I'm feeling pretty rested, actually."
"You're not caught up on rest. You're going to bed."
"Am not."
"Don't argue with me, Sar. End of discussion."
"Is that so?" I arched a brow in his direction, folded my arms across my chest and nudged the table with my knee so the can of beer would tip over the side. The Mastiff sprung into action, slurped the spill, grabbed the can in his jaws and tipped his head back. Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle.
I couldn't help myself. I laughed.
The Neanderthal couldn't help himself. He upended me and landed a few and I told him he was dead meat.
"Yeah, but I'm your dead meat. Upstairs, now."
Tsk.
So... I went upstairs, took a shower, and brushed my hair so it hung nice and long and curly. Then I got into bed, painted my toenails red - fire engine red - and positioned my body, clad in a brief camisole and thong, on the pillows and waited for the giant Neanderthal to come upstairs to see if I was in bed.
Giant Neanderthals cannot resist red toenails. It was a l-o-n-g time before he actually let me fall asleep. (I'm planning to have a "green" breakfast very soon - green jellybeans and pistachio ice cream.)
~Sar~
P.S. Sincere thanks for the sweet comments to the blog and to my e-mail addy. You fill my heart with your kind words and I thank you.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
A brief note
Mia bambina and I are home. It has been a hard week for her. We flew to Florida to attend the funeral of an old and great friend of Sar's. Between crossing the continent and back again and the emotions of the final good byes, Sar is exhausted and when she is tired she fails to eat much. In just a matter of days her weight has dropped about 6 pounds - pounds she cannot afford to lose.
She finally fell asleep last night - sleeping about 14 hours straight. Her appetite is still poor but I will spoil her with her favorite comfort foods and if that does not work I will threaten to warm her butt. Just saying that generally gives her some energy to burn.
I expect she will feel more like herself in a few days and back online filling you in on my *caveman* ways. When I complete my journal for this week I may post excerpts from our trip to Florida in the form of "frammenti" on Sar's website. I will also ask her to write. The words she chooses to express her inner feelings surpass my simple observations and I think she will achieve greater peace about the circumstances once her crafted words have been posted.
Cowboy
She finally fell asleep last night - sleeping about 14 hours straight. Her appetite is still poor but I will spoil her with her favorite comfort foods and if that does not work I will threaten to warm her butt. Just saying that generally gives her some energy to burn.
I expect she will feel more like herself in a few days and back online filling you in on my *caveman* ways. When I complete my journal for this week I may post excerpts from our trip to Florida in the form of "frammenti" on Sar's website. I will also ask her to write. The words she chooses to express her inner feelings surpass my simple observations and I think she will achieve greater peace about the circumstances once her crafted words have been posted.
Cowboy
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