It's RUN AMOK Week!
First - to catch up on a few things. We were without electricity for 10 days - got it back the morning of Christmas Eve. Our guests all went home and Cowboy and I had a chance to enjoy that evening by ourselves.
Nine-year old Patrick made a HUGE sign for Cowboy to put on the roof for Santa. It said "Use the front door! There's a fire burning." Patrick told the giant squid that the jolly fellow would burn his ass if he went down the chimney.
"You been talking to Sar about this?" Cowboy asked.
"Yep."
"SAR!"
Jeez! Blame me! Tsk.
We kept the generator running for the day in spite of having the power back. It had been keeping the refrigerator/freezer going and maintained the heat for the dog kennels through the power outage. Since the foster pups will eventually live indoors in their new homes, I rotated them through the house - each one spending a night in our family room with us. We were all huddled in sleeping bags in front of the fire. Dogs go a little nutso when you sleep at ground level. They like to cuddle around you and the giant squid wasn't exactly thrilled when my pups lay down on either side of me leaving no room for him.
"Can't they go sleep by Patrick?" he growled.
"Try and move them," I suggested.
"Out!" he yelled.
The pups were suddenly deaf and didn't budge. I couldn't help myself. I laughed.
The sneaky Neanderthal took a large chunk of roasted chicken out of the fridge and started nibbling on it in front of them. The pups still didn't move but started whining. Dirty pool! I told them to kiss the squid... They did and stole the chicken. As soon as they moved away from me, Cowboy jumped into the sleeping bag beside me. Now I have to get that chicken smell out of my carpets. Tsk.
The Labs need a lot of work to live in a house - their tails wag constantly and knock things over. The Briard is a snoop and has figured out how to open kitchen cabinets. Putting baby locks on them this week. The Schnauzer thinks the fireplace is his and objects strenuously when told to move. The Bouvie has a crush on the refrigerator and cat-like, he rubs up against it. As long as he doesn't lift his leg...
The morning of the 26th I hopped out of bed and at the top of the stairs I yelled "It's RUN AMOK Week!" Then I slid down the banister... right into the giant squid's arms. Where did he come from? Tsk.
SWAT!
Double tsk.
"It's a free zone," I reminded him.
"In your dreams, imp."
"You're not playing by the rules," I huffed.
"My house, my rules," the Neanderthal grumbled.
"Oh yeah?" I grabbed his yummy stick and changed the rules.
"Okay," he groaned, changing his mind. "Time for you to run amok on top of me."
... and the band played on...
~Sar~
P.S. Woke up this morning to three inches of snow! S-N-O-W! And more on the way. Time to make more snow people. I'm thinking Mr. Snowman should be macho - v-e-r-y macho. Ms Snow Woman needs panties and a demi-bra. ... And I need a snow fort with lots of ammunition for when the giant squid sees the new front yard decorations.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Naughty or Nice?
Guess which category Sar fits into.
Cowboy here. Had a wild windstorm hit the area and we lost electricity over a week ago. Expecting it back around Christmas day. I'm posting this from my office at the base so no one thinks Sar is ignoring your emails, etc.
We have a gas stovetop so Sar has made stews and chowders and chili and other warm foods to keep us comfortable. Our young friend Patrick is staying with us along with his mother. They're more comfortable in our home where we have a fireplace blazing than in their house that is currently without heat. Most of the western part of our state has been without power. David just returned from England and is also with us. He lives in the San Juans where power is not expected back till after Christmas.
Sar *ordered* him to order a marine unit to check on our neighbors to make sure all had adequate heat and food. She also has them delivering stew and chili to those caught without food. Grocery stores are just now reopening so that won't be a problem for long.
Our neighbor, Mr. Patterson - who watches Sar dance-- is also with us. He just celebrated his 98th birthday and is quite fragile. Sar dotes on him and the old guy really loves all that attention.
The imp is too busy for her normal mischief but she assures me she'll make up for it after Christmas. I believe her. In the meantime, she's not eating much, not sleeping enough and in general, making me crazy. The occasional swat barely slows her momentum. I may have to live up to my reputation as a barbaric Neanderthal and get to the seat of the problem.
Both of us wish you a happy holiday season and a New Year filled with the promise of peace.
Cowboy
Cowboy here. Had a wild windstorm hit the area and we lost electricity over a week ago. Expecting it back around Christmas day. I'm posting this from my office at the base so no one thinks Sar is ignoring your emails, etc.
We have a gas stovetop so Sar has made stews and chowders and chili and other warm foods to keep us comfortable. Our young friend Patrick is staying with us along with his mother. They're more comfortable in our home where we have a fireplace blazing than in their house that is currently without heat. Most of the western part of our state has been without power. David just returned from England and is also with us. He lives in the San Juans where power is not expected back till after Christmas.
Sar *ordered* him to order a marine unit to check on our neighbors to make sure all had adequate heat and food. She also has them delivering stew and chili to those caught without food. Grocery stores are just now reopening so that won't be a problem for long.
Our neighbor, Mr. Patterson - who watches Sar dance-- is also with us. He just celebrated his 98th birthday and is quite fragile. Sar dotes on him and the old guy really loves all that attention.
The imp is too busy for her normal mischief but she assures me she'll make up for it after Christmas. I believe her. In the meantime, she's not eating much, not sleeping enough and in general, making me crazy. The occasional swat barely slows her momentum. I may have to live up to my reputation as a barbaric Neanderthal and get to the seat of the problem.
Both of us wish you a happy holiday season and a New Year filled with the promise of peace.
Cowboy
Monday, December 11, 2006
Not My Fault!
December is a particularly hard month for some of us. I don't mean the holiday stress - planning, shopping, baking, entertaining, et al. I mean the "being good" stuff. Just how much of this "good" stuff are we supposed to endure?
Between you and me I have totally outgooded myself. I'm not sure I can remain civil if one more hostess offers me a "green" tidbit to sample.
"Ohhhhhh Sar, these are delicious and so good for you!"
If they're *that* good, I'll share. She can have mine.
"Cowboy would love for you to sample these," another hostess smiled as she waved a tray of unidentified green uglies under my nose. Her smile was evil.
"Cowboy is a big boy; he can tell me himself."
"SAR!"
Jeez!
"You're serving a veggie platter with dip at our cocktail party, aren't you imp?" the Neanderthal wanted to know.
"Of course I am, dear."
How in blazes would I get rid of all those veggies otherwise?
On a "goodness" streak, I donated a lot of old clothes to various agencies - mostly Cowboy's. I mean... how many belts does one man need?
"Where the hell is my navy belt?"
"I bought you some suspenders, dear."
SWAT!
Tsk.
I cleaned out the produce drawer and generously donated the green goodies to the food bank.
"How about broccoli with dinner tonight?" Guess who said that.
"The grocery store was alllll out of broccoli, dear."
SWAT!
Tsk.
A couple of weeks ago we had a rare snowstorm - got about 10 inches of the white stuff piled up. Naturally I made anatomically correct snow people in the front yard so the neighbors would be entertained as they drove by. I placed one of Cowboy's Navy covers (hat) on Mr. Snow Man along with one of his ties. Mrs. Snow Woman got one of my scarves and my pink leg warmers. Truly, a very lovely couple, very modern, too. "She" had implants and a Brazilian cut.
"Why the hell did you use one of my covers on that naked snow man?"
Tsk. He sounded irate.
"Snow men are supposed to wear a hat and a scarf and mittens," he continued. "They are not supposed to be nudists. And if you made her boobs any bigger, she'd fall over."
"I should have used a thicker longer carrot for the yummy stick?"
SWAT!
Tsk.
I took photos of course and wanted to use them for our Christmas cards. The giant squid vetoed that idea. I don't know why; the dangling bits were all lovingly formed. Hmmm... maybe I should have used a celery stalk instead of a carrot? Nooooo... celery has all that wavy stuff on the sides and at the end. An erect celery stalk wouldn't have worked. Of course... an orange yummy stick makes you think Mr. Snow Man is coming down with jaundice.
The squid was really relieved that the snow people melted so quickly but I have a sneaky feeling he used my hair dryer to help it along.
And I was on such a "good" streak, too. Double tsk.
All the stress of being good finally got to me. I know. I know. You thought I was an angel alllll the time. I confess. Sometimes, I'm just slightly less angelic.
What happened was...
Ms. HairUpHerAss came over with her inedible fruitcake. She brings one every year. Every year the pups sniff it and go hide so I don't force them to take a bite. This year... DomTom the cat... was encouraged to help himself to the giant squid's glass of Baileys... and then was encouraged to eat the leftover sushi sitting on the kitchen counter. A little Baileys, a little sushi, a little Baileys...
When Ms. HairUpHerAss unwrapped the fruitcake so we could all admire the perfectly formed and inedible don't-drop-it-on-your-foot door stopper, DomTom leaped to the table (which he never does) and hurled a GIANT hair ball right on TOP of the fruitcake.
"SAR!"
Jeez! I didn't hurl the hair ball.
Ms. HairUpHerAss was a bit miffed but I consoled her with one of my chocolate lime pies. I must reward that cat with fresh catnip.
As she waddled back to her house, Cowboy said, "Well at least you didn't call her Ms. HairUpHerAss to her face."
Honestly... she way she walks... she looks more and more like Ms. CornCobUpHerButt.
~Sar~
Between you and me I have totally outgooded myself. I'm not sure I can remain civil if one more hostess offers me a "green" tidbit to sample.
"Ohhhhhh Sar, these are delicious and so good for you!"
If they're *that* good, I'll share. She can have mine.
"Cowboy would love for you to sample these," another hostess smiled as she waved a tray of unidentified green uglies under my nose. Her smile was evil.
"Cowboy is a big boy; he can tell me himself."
"SAR!"
Jeez!
"You're serving a veggie platter with dip at our cocktail party, aren't you imp?" the Neanderthal wanted to know.
"Of course I am, dear."
How in blazes would I get rid of all those veggies otherwise?
On a "goodness" streak, I donated a lot of old clothes to various agencies - mostly Cowboy's. I mean... how many belts does one man need?
"Where the hell is my navy belt?"
"I bought you some suspenders, dear."
SWAT!
Tsk.
I cleaned out the produce drawer and generously donated the green goodies to the food bank.
"How about broccoli with dinner tonight?" Guess who said that.
"The grocery store was alllll out of broccoli, dear."
SWAT!
Tsk.
A couple of weeks ago we had a rare snowstorm - got about 10 inches of the white stuff piled up. Naturally I made anatomically correct snow people in the front yard so the neighbors would be entertained as they drove by. I placed one of Cowboy's Navy covers (hat) on Mr. Snow Man along with one of his ties. Mrs. Snow Woman got one of my scarves and my pink leg warmers. Truly, a very lovely couple, very modern, too. "She" had implants and a Brazilian cut.
"Why the hell did you use one of my covers on that naked snow man?"
Tsk. He sounded irate.
"Snow men are supposed to wear a hat and a scarf and mittens," he continued. "They are not supposed to be nudists. And if you made her boobs any bigger, she'd fall over."
"I should have used a thicker longer carrot for the yummy stick?"
SWAT!
Tsk.
I took photos of course and wanted to use them for our Christmas cards. The giant squid vetoed that idea. I don't know why; the dangling bits were all lovingly formed. Hmmm... maybe I should have used a celery stalk instead of a carrot? Nooooo... celery has all that wavy stuff on the sides and at the end. An erect celery stalk wouldn't have worked. Of course... an orange yummy stick makes you think Mr. Snow Man is coming down with jaundice.
The squid was really relieved that the snow people melted so quickly but I have a sneaky feeling he used my hair dryer to help it along.
And I was on such a "good" streak, too. Double tsk.
All the stress of being good finally got to me. I know. I know. You thought I was an angel alllll the time. I confess. Sometimes, I'm just slightly less angelic.
What happened was...
Ms. HairUpHerAss came over with her inedible fruitcake. She brings one every year. Every year the pups sniff it and go hide so I don't force them to take a bite. This year... DomTom the cat... was encouraged to help himself to the giant squid's glass of Baileys... and then was encouraged to eat the leftover sushi sitting on the kitchen counter. A little Baileys, a little sushi, a little Baileys...
When Ms. HairUpHerAss unwrapped the fruitcake so we could all admire the perfectly formed and inedible don't-drop-it-on-your-foot door stopper, DomTom leaped to the table (which he never does) and hurled a GIANT hair ball right on TOP of the fruitcake.
"SAR!"
Jeez! I didn't hurl the hair ball.
Ms. HairUpHerAss was a bit miffed but I consoled her with one of my chocolate lime pies. I must reward that cat with fresh catnip.
As she waddled back to her house, Cowboy said, "Well at least you didn't call her Ms. HairUpHerAss to her face."
Honestly... she way she walks... she looks more and more like Ms. CornCobUpHerButt.
~Sar~
Monday, December 04, 2006
Advance Notice!
With all the preparations for Christmas and sugar plums dancing in our heads, it's so easy to forget that December 26th isn't just Boxing Day! It's the beginning of RUN AMOK week!
~ sigh ~
My favorite week of the year.
Just a reminder: As soon as Santa gets back to the North Pole and sits down with a glass of eggnog, Mrs. Claus SHREDS the "naughty & nice" lists.
SHREDS!
Oh JOY!
The new list doesn't start until January 1st!
December 25 is the day you bask in whatever it is you bask in. For me, it's usually coffee with chicory and a big chunk of something wonderful... other than the giant squid although I like to get a big chunk of that, too.
That leaves December 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 to RUN AMOK! Is that the most fabulous thing ever!
Quick! Mark your calendars in RED! A free zone!
Now some of you Scroogie types are going to say that RUN AMOK week isn't printed on any calendar you ever bought. Pish and posh! Calendar makers are male. Need I say more? You have a computer and a printer. Make your own. So when the Scrooge in your life says "show me where this week is on the calendar," you can show him yours.
I used to keep RUN AMOK week a secret from the giant squid until I actually did something that made his eyebrows arch into the stratosphere. Then I would calmly remind him that it's the time of year when I'm entitled to get a free pass at anything I want to do. Needless to say, being a Neanderthal, he has his own opinions about that. But... when it's RUN AMOK week I ignore his ramblings and do what I want to do anyway. (Just a helpful hint: It's best to keep running shoes on when one is running amok. Having a very large dog with big teeth also helps; two dogs are better.)
Now I remind the giant squid that RUN AMOK week is coming so when I actually do something that raises his blood pressure - and not in a good way - I tell him that it should not have been a surprise because I did warn him in advance.
His arm still tenses and I'm sure his palms itch because he tends to rub his hands together and... that's when I'm happy I remembered to have my running shoes on.
I like to plan a few happy events for RUN AMOK week. This year I'm thinking...
I'll send an artificial tree to our friend David. It's small and will fit on his office desk or credenza. Such a lovely and unique tree, too. I know the WHOLE staff will enjoy it. It has a naked lady at the top that spins around... the nipples light up... one at a time... on, off, on, off. He's currently in England. I know he's going to be so surprised when he gets back. Maybe I better include extra batteries.
"You better not be sending any surprise gifts, imp," the giant Neanderthal warned me.
"Not me," Sar the innocent replied. I can wait until RUN AMOK week to do that. I will, however, let some other folks send things for me. That doesn't count, right?
We have a LOT of stockings hanging on the mantle. There's one for each of us, the pets have their own and a few for others - David has one, Patrick has one, so does Bull and there's two with no names for unexpected guests. I have finished and mailed Christmas cards and the presents are wrapped. Cake's in the oven and a couple of lumps of coal... are hidden in case I need to add that to someone's stocking - just to weigh it down, of course. Dozens and dozens of "spank me sweetly" cards are done and stuffed into the squid's stocking in a velvet box. Do you think that's too many? He's getting o-l-d. He may not have the strength for all that...
My friend Alli sent FOUR buckets of "death by chocolate" body paint. One bucket has raspberries mixed in with the chocolate. I'm saving these for RUN AMOK week. I better make sure the giant squid gets plenty of rest on Christmas day so he can do giant squid things with that chocolate paint.
New subject: Pups
The new pups are really a sweet bunch. The Labs are on the goofy side, trying to sway me with kisses when I tell them "NO!" The Briard actually rolls his eyes when I give him my look of disappointment. I have a feeling he's plotting his next move. The Schnauzer yawns a lot - that is not a good sign. The Bouvie thinks he's a Rott. He leans against my hip and throws his head back to look up at me. He's also a flirt and is very interested in my female Rott, Panda. She is currently ignoring him but her mate, Tank, is not at all amused.
One of the Labs got in the house when I left the back door slightly ajar. He spied DomTom, the 20-lb. cat, and went after him with teeth bared. Poor misguided 100-lb. pup. DomTom beat the beejeebees out of him. Lab scooted out of the house with the cat chasing him and spent the morning hiding in his kennel. Have I ever mentioned that DomTom rules our house?
"Why is that sorry excuse for a cat chasing that dog?" asked the tall fellow in uniform as he gazed out the kitchen window.
DomTom and Cowboy do not care for each other. The cat does not recognize the giant squid as the alpha male in our home and the giant squid does not understand how I can love a creature he generally refers to as "a waste of fur." Tsk.
Meanwhile, all the pups "heel" fairly well now though they need a lot more practice. All "sit" most of the time. Only the Labs "stay" but all "come" when called. Good progress for just a little over a week. I plan to write updates on each of them eventually. Look for those updates in "Dog Tales" on the right side of the blog.
Also on the right side are "Recipes." Formatting the recipes is a little time consuming; I'm trying to add a few each week. You "peach cobbler" and "cream cheese waffle" lovers will get yours, too. I'm wading through dozens of variations so I choose the best ones.
"You're posting peach cobbler instructions?" Mr. Peach wanted to know.
"Uh huh."
"You know... you should test each one of them before doing that," he smiled. He rubbed his tummy at the same time.
See Sar. See Sar roll her eyes.
SWAT!
Hear Sar laugh.
See Sar run.
See giant squid give chase.
See giant squid grab Sar and close bedroom door.
~Sar~
~ sigh ~
My favorite week of the year.
Just a reminder: As soon as Santa gets back to the North Pole and sits down with a glass of eggnog, Mrs. Claus SHREDS the "naughty & nice" lists.
SHREDS!
Oh JOY!
The new list doesn't start until January 1st!
December 25 is the day you bask in whatever it is you bask in. For me, it's usually coffee with chicory and a big chunk of something wonderful... other than the giant squid although I like to get a big chunk of that, too.
That leaves December 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 to RUN AMOK! Is that the most fabulous thing ever!
Quick! Mark your calendars in RED! A free zone!
Now some of you Scroogie types are going to say that RUN AMOK week isn't printed on any calendar you ever bought. Pish and posh! Calendar makers are male. Need I say more? You have a computer and a printer. Make your own. So when the Scrooge in your life says "show me where this week is on the calendar," you can show him yours.
I used to keep RUN AMOK week a secret from the giant squid until I actually did something that made his eyebrows arch into the stratosphere. Then I would calmly remind him that it's the time of year when I'm entitled to get a free pass at anything I want to do. Needless to say, being a Neanderthal, he has his own opinions about that. But... when it's RUN AMOK week I ignore his ramblings and do what I want to do anyway. (Just a helpful hint: It's best to keep running shoes on when one is running amok. Having a very large dog with big teeth also helps; two dogs are better.)
Now I remind the giant squid that RUN AMOK week is coming so when I actually do something that raises his blood pressure - and not in a good way - I tell him that it should not have been a surprise because I did warn him in advance.
His arm still tenses and I'm sure his palms itch because he tends to rub his hands together and... that's when I'm happy I remembered to have my running shoes on.
I like to plan a few happy events for RUN AMOK week. This year I'm thinking...
I'll send an artificial tree to our friend David. It's small and will fit on his office desk or credenza. Such a lovely and unique tree, too. I know the WHOLE staff will enjoy it. It has a naked lady at the top that spins around... the nipples light up... one at a time... on, off, on, off. He's currently in England. I know he's going to be so surprised when he gets back. Maybe I better include extra batteries.
"You better not be sending any surprise gifts, imp," the giant Neanderthal warned me.
"Not me," Sar the innocent replied. I can wait until RUN AMOK week to do that. I will, however, let some other folks send things for me. That doesn't count, right?
We have a LOT of stockings hanging on the mantle. There's one for each of us, the pets have their own and a few for others - David has one, Patrick has one, so does Bull and there's two with no names for unexpected guests. I have finished and mailed Christmas cards and the presents are wrapped. Cake's in the oven and a couple of lumps of coal... are hidden in case I need to add that to someone's stocking - just to weigh it down, of course. Dozens and dozens of "spank me sweetly" cards are done and stuffed into the squid's stocking in a velvet box. Do you think that's too many? He's getting o-l-d. He may not have the strength for all that...
My friend Alli sent FOUR buckets of "death by chocolate" body paint. One bucket has raspberries mixed in with the chocolate. I'm saving these for RUN AMOK week. I better make sure the giant squid gets plenty of rest on Christmas day so he can do giant squid things with that chocolate paint.
New subject: Pups
The new pups are really a sweet bunch. The Labs are on the goofy side, trying to sway me with kisses when I tell them "NO!" The Briard actually rolls his eyes when I give him my look of disappointment. I have a feeling he's plotting his next move. The Schnauzer yawns a lot - that is not a good sign. The Bouvie thinks he's a Rott. He leans against my hip and throws his head back to look up at me. He's also a flirt and is very interested in my female Rott, Panda. She is currently ignoring him but her mate, Tank, is not at all amused.
One of the Labs got in the house when I left the back door slightly ajar. He spied DomTom, the 20-lb. cat, and went after him with teeth bared. Poor misguided 100-lb. pup. DomTom beat the beejeebees out of him. Lab scooted out of the house with the cat chasing him and spent the morning hiding in his kennel. Have I ever mentioned that DomTom rules our house?
"Why is that sorry excuse for a cat chasing that dog?" asked the tall fellow in uniform as he gazed out the kitchen window.
DomTom and Cowboy do not care for each other. The cat does not recognize the giant squid as the alpha male in our home and the giant squid does not understand how I can love a creature he generally refers to as "a waste of fur." Tsk.
Meanwhile, all the pups "heel" fairly well now though they need a lot more practice. All "sit" most of the time. Only the Labs "stay" but all "come" when called. Good progress for just a little over a week. I plan to write updates on each of them eventually. Look for those updates in "Dog Tales" on the right side of the blog.
Also on the right side are "Recipes." Formatting the recipes is a little time consuming; I'm trying to add a few each week. You "peach cobbler" and "cream cheese waffle" lovers will get yours, too. I'm wading through dozens of variations so I choose the best ones.
"You're posting peach cobbler instructions?" Mr. Peach wanted to know.
"Uh huh."
"You know... you should test each one of them before doing that," he smiled. He rubbed his tummy at the same time.
See Sar. See Sar roll her eyes.
SWAT!
Hear Sar laugh.
See Sar run.
See giant squid give chase.
See giant squid grab Sar and close bedroom door.
~Sar~
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