Cowboy here. Writing this while the imp sleeps; hope to post it before she wakes. We're in San Diego for a few days. Flew down to attend Memorial Day ceremonies - always a moving event - especially on a military base. Plan to stick around a day or 2 afterwards so I can take Sar out to Balboa Park where there is a "large animal" zoo.
We went to the regular San Diego zoo yesterday - Sar was in 7th heaven - animals and junk food and a lot to see. A must-see stop is the area set aside for children so my wife can pet anything and everything. Her eyes go all wide the minute she sees the animals she'd like to take home. Because nothing is beyond her-- I accompany her so she's not arrested for theft or comes home with a creature nobody in their right mind would have as a pet. At one point I was forced to hold a corn dog and a soft drink while the imp consumed an ice cream bar followed by a giant cookie. Yeah, I know. I paid for all that crap but nevertheless--
Taking Sar to the zoo is similar to leading a class of grade school kids around. The imp is everywhere at once, ignores my admonitions, wants to eat from all the concessions and makes sounds of pure joy when she sees the various exhibits. Frankly, those sounds are best left to the privacy of our bedroom. Pure joy is what it's all about so when it comes to my wife's joy, I like to indulge her. Exception is bringing home another animal-- in particular, a wild one.
Last night we attended a formal military affair. Dress whites for me, a ball gown for mia amore. She was the most beautiful woman there. The minute we hit the dance floor, others cut in. No respect for rank either. Naturally I cut back in and only conceded to let a few close friends have that honor. She danced almost every dance. The evening event was enjoyable for both of us.
When we leave, we're headed home for a day to regroup, check on the house and animals. A couple is house sitting, feeding the menagerie. A bit of last minute packing, then it's off to New Orleans. Sar's "family" is flying in from Chicago. Her oldest closest friend and family are also joining us. As much as she wants to be with them I'm betting the imp is more excited about chicory coffee, beignets and all that rich "Nawlins" food. Trust me. I know my wife. Food is a high priority.
She also wants to ride the trolley, take a paddleboat ride, get her picture drawn at one of those artist stands on Jackson Square and ride in a horse drawn carriage. You'd think she was a tourist but she spent a month or more there every year as a kid living with Max and his ladies. Sar and Alli are bound to get into mischief-- Again, I need to accompany them to make sure they don't get arrested.
One of us will keep you posted. "Days of our lives" with the imp are never boring. If she complains about a swat or 2, you can be sure it was well deserved.
Cowboy
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Hello!
Did you think I'd forgotten you? Been busy and probably doing too much but sometimes, life is like a drug. I can't stop doing! The freezer is full again, everything is spick and span and the yard is shaping up beautifully. Friends have been over for dinner, the dogs and cats are well and even the new pup, Hadrian, the Neapolitan Mastiff, is starting to behave like a dog that's had a little training.
The caveman I married, however...
"What are you doing imp?"
"Reading a book," I reply sweetly.
"That better be a novel," he yells from downstairs, "and not a 'how-to' by Harry Houdini."
I like to have an escape route planned in advance just in case I need to get out of Dodge in a hurry.
"We're going over to the Simmons' place for drinks later. I want you to be polite to Maddie Simmons."
"Uh huh."
"I mean it, babe," he says, his voice getting closer. (He must be coming up the stairs.)
Maddie Simmons is a repressed suffragette. When she lived in the "deep South," she was president of the local chapter of "Daughters of the American Revolution" and she named her own daughter Susan B in honor of Susan B. Anthony. I don't know the correlation between Susan B and the American Revolution, but no matter. She's a kook. She once asked if I wanted to join the temperance union... I think the lady has been sniffing too much aerosol spray.
"And wear a dress," Mr. Manners orders as he comes up behind me.
"Of course," I agree. I've got tight leather tap pants. I'll put a raincoat over them and Cowboy won't notice. Then, when I take the raincoat off, Maddie Simmons might faint and I won't have to endure her for very long. Her husband, an uptight deacon in his church, might have cardiac arrest. Oh goody! Two birds with one stone.
"And don't do anything funny!" Cowboy adds, picks me up by the waist and gives me a swat and then drops me back in my chair.
I hasten to cover up my Houdini book.
Moving right along...
I was away for a few days - in St. Louis - at a textile show. Asked a close friend from Chicago to meet me and come along for company. She can't sew and would kill herself if she picked up a needle but she's great fun to be with i.e., loves to eat, doesn't worry about calories and is a better kick boxer than I am. Cowboy called after we were there only 2 days to mention that the credit card company informed him that his credit card was smoking. Tsk. I switched to his other card.
When I got back I noticed that Hadrian, the Neo beastie seemed to have gained a LOT of weight while I was gone. I counted all the dogs and cats and checked to make sure all the neighborhood kids were still alive and kicking. That dog has an enormous appetite! He was so happy to see me he slobbered all over my shoes. I was happy to see him, too but the shoes are a total washout. I have to teach him to keep his head down while eating and drinking... that should reduce the slobber.
Met up with friends I have coffee with twice a week. We take turns hosting it at our homes. The last one was at the home of Patrick's girl friends house. Her mother is my friend; her daughter is Missy, the 7-year old hussy who has her eyes on my 9-year old Patrick. (Patrick has his own mother but I consider him mine.) I brought Key Lime pie - 6 of them. All four of us ate all six pies. 'Twas truly wonderful and I was too full to eat the takeout Cowboy brought home for dinner... eggplant parmesian...
SWAT!
"You filled up on junk food, didn't you?" the Neanderthal muttered when I concentrated on garlic bread and wine instead of that purple stuff.
Key Lime pie is not junk food but I chose not to mention that.
SWAT!
Tsk.
There are new folks in our neighborhood. I'm guessing that the cat that is serenading us on our fence at night belongs to them. My female cat has been neutered; the male cat is desperate to get out there and beat the beejeesus out of that feline interloper. And Tank and Panda, the outside Rotts keep standing on their hind paws trying to reach the noisy critter; they're always interested in a snack.
I think the cat is not long for this world - it's spring and the coyotes are out and hungry.
"You should tell those neighbors about their cat," Cowboy suggests while we listened to its song.
"Why? It's singing off key," I remarked.
SWAT!
My husband has lost his sense of humor.
David has deployed again. He says it will be a short trip, just a few weeks. Crossing my fingers on that one. I packed some snacks for him and he had the gall to say "behave" while I'm gone. Sure.
Okey dokey, have to go try on those tap pants for the visit to the Simmons'. Good thing I read that Houdini book. When Cowboy sees them I'm going to need that escape route.
~Sar~
The caveman I married, however...
"What are you doing imp?"
"Reading a book," I reply sweetly.
"That better be a novel," he yells from downstairs, "and not a 'how-to' by Harry Houdini."
I like to have an escape route planned in advance just in case I need to get out of Dodge in a hurry.
"We're going over to the Simmons' place for drinks later. I want you to be polite to Maddie Simmons."
"Uh huh."
"I mean it, babe," he says, his voice getting closer. (He must be coming up the stairs.)
Maddie Simmons is a repressed suffragette. When she lived in the "deep South," she was president of the local chapter of "Daughters of the American Revolution" and she named her own daughter Susan B in honor of Susan B. Anthony. I don't know the correlation between Susan B and the American Revolution, but no matter. She's a kook. She once asked if I wanted to join the temperance union... I think the lady has been sniffing too much aerosol spray.
"And wear a dress," Mr. Manners orders as he comes up behind me.
"Of course," I agree. I've got tight leather tap pants. I'll put a raincoat over them and Cowboy won't notice. Then, when I take the raincoat off, Maddie Simmons might faint and I won't have to endure her for very long. Her husband, an uptight deacon in his church, might have cardiac arrest. Oh goody! Two birds with one stone.
"And don't do anything funny!" Cowboy adds, picks me up by the waist and gives me a swat and then drops me back in my chair.
I hasten to cover up my Houdini book.
Moving right along...
I was away for a few days - in St. Louis - at a textile show. Asked a close friend from Chicago to meet me and come along for company. She can't sew and would kill herself if she picked up a needle but she's great fun to be with i.e., loves to eat, doesn't worry about calories and is a better kick boxer than I am. Cowboy called after we were there only 2 days to mention that the credit card company informed him that his credit card was smoking. Tsk. I switched to his other card.
When I got back I noticed that Hadrian, the Neo beastie seemed to have gained a LOT of weight while I was gone. I counted all the dogs and cats and checked to make sure all the neighborhood kids were still alive and kicking. That dog has an enormous appetite! He was so happy to see me he slobbered all over my shoes. I was happy to see him, too but the shoes are a total washout. I have to teach him to keep his head down while eating and drinking... that should reduce the slobber.
Met up with friends I have coffee with twice a week. We take turns hosting it at our homes. The last one was at the home of Patrick's girl friends house. Her mother is my friend; her daughter is Missy, the 7-year old hussy who has her eyes on my 9-year old Patrick. (Patrick has his own mother but I consider him mine.) I brought Key Lime pie - 6 of them. All four of us ate all six pies. 'Twas truly wonderful and I was too full to eat the takeout Cowboy brought home for dinner... eggplant parmesian...
SWAT!
"You filled up on junk food, didn't you?" the Neanderthal muttered when I concentrated on garlic bread and wine instead of that purple stuff.
Key Lime pie is not junk food but I chose not to mention that.
SWAT!
Tsk.
There are new folks in our neighborhood. I'm guessing that the cat that is serenading us on our fence at night belongs to them. My female cat has been neutered; the male cat is desperate to get out there and beat the beejeesus out of that feline interloper. And Tank and Panda, the outside Rotts keep standing on their hind paws trying to reach the noisy critter; they're always interested in a snack.
I think the cat is not long for this world - it's spring and the coyotes are out and hungry.
"You should tell those neighbors about their cat," Cowboy suggests while we listened to its song.
"Why? It's singing off key," I remarked.
SWAT!
My husband has lost his sense of humor.
David has deployed again. He says it will be a short trip, just a few weeks. Crossing my fingers on that one. I packed some snacks for him and he had the gall to say "behave" while I'm gone. Sure.
Okey dokey, have to go try on those tap pants for the visit to the Simmons'. Good thing I read that Houdini book. When Cowboy sees them I'm going to need that escape route.
~Sar~
Friday, May 11, 2007
Monsters
Had a really bad dream the other night - nightmare level. It was a dream I had over and over when I was a kid - monsters under the bed kinda dream. The thing about monsters under the bed is that you don't know what they look like but they have long hairy arms and big hairy paw-like hands that can grab your ankles if you get up in the middle of the night and sit on the side of the bed. They get a hold of your ankles and pull you under the bed and nobody ever sees you again.
Soooo I wake up thinking bathroom break and a middle of the night snack are in order. I sit up and slide over to the side of the bed opposite from where the giant squid is sleeping. I put my feet on the floor and suddenly remember the monsters and leap back into bed before they grab me. Multiple monsters = multiple hairy paw-like hands grabbing at my ankles.
The Neanderthal I share a bed with wants to know what the problem is. I tell him and he laughs. He laughs! I'm about to wet my pants and he's laughing.
I tell him he has to pick me up and set me down several feet from the bed.
He's still laughing.
"This is not funny. If you don't pick me up I'm going to have to jump out of bed far enough so that the monsters don't get me. I could break a leg."
"What do you do if you have that nightmare when I'm out of town?"
"The dogs sleep in the bedroom. Dogs = no monsters."
"You aren't worried the monsters will grab *my* ankles?" Mr. Smarty Pants asks.
"Oh puleeze! Monsters don't want to eat giant squids. Everybody knows they want tasty females."
"What do I get for doing this?"
"You get a wet bed if you don't!"
Tsk. I got a swat and then he picked me up and set me down in front of the bathroom door. I thought about leaping onto the bed after I had my snack but the giant squid did one of those over-the-shoulder holds and took me downstairs so he could have a snack too. Unfortunately, he was out of couth and he swatted me the whole way down the stairs.
The dogs woke up and went on immediate "food alert" so I gave them snacks, too.
SWAT!
"Don't feed the dogs in the middle of the night, bambina."
Tsk
When we went back upstairs, SweetPea blustered his way into the bedroom and immediately stuck his nose under the bed!
I knew it! Something was under my bed!
Cowboy deposited me in the middle of the bed and got down on his hands and knees and looked under it with a flashlight. I told him how brave he was but then I remembered he was a Seal and a fearsome warrior.
He snorted when I said that and he was on his hands and knees and his butt was accessible... I couldn't let that opportunity go by... so I goosed him.
SWAT!
Miss Emmy, the cat, came out from under the bed and hissed and spit at Cowboy. He picked her up by the scruff of her neck and put her on the other side of the bedroom door.
I've thought about hissing and spitting at him myself a time or two. I have a feeling it wouldn't be my neck that would be in jeopardy.
"See! No monsters," he said when he got back in bed.
Miss Emmy isn't a monster but she *is* an ankle grabber.
"You saved me," I told him and hugged him tight. "But just in case... the monsters' arms come sneaking out from under the bed and poke around looking for me, I'm going to sleep on top of you tonight."
"Bambina, you only sleep on top of me when your tush is too sore for you to sleep on your back."
"I'm making an exception," I told him sweetly.
"I veto the exception," the Neanderthal said much too calmly and gave me a couple of really hard swats.
Tsk
"Okay, not sleeping on top of you, you big lug. But if the monsters get me, there's no sex for you ever again! No peach cobbler, either," I added.
He pulled me on top of him and I slept there all night.
~Sar~
Soooo I wake up thinking bathroom break and a middle of the night snack are in order. I sit up and slide over to the side of the bed opposite from where the giant squid is sleeping. I put my feet on the floor and suddenly remember the monsters and leap back into bed before they grab me. Multiple monsters = multiple hairy paw-like hands grabbing at my ankles.
The Neanderthal I share a bed with wants to know what the problem is. I tell him and he laughs. He laughs! I'm about to wet my pants and he's laughing.
I tell him he has to pick me up and set me down several feet from the bed.
He's still laughing.
"This is not funny. If you don't pick me up I'm going to have to jump out of bed far enough so that the monsters don't get me. I could break a leg."
"What do you do if you have that nightmare when I'm out of town?"
"The dogs sleep in the bedroom. Dogs = no monsters."
"You aren't worried the monsters will grab *my* ankles?" Mr. Smarty Pants asks.
"Oh puleeze! Monsters don't want to eat giant squids. Everybody knows they want tasty females."
"What do I get for doing this?"
"You get a wet bed if you don't!"
Tsk. I got a swat and then he picked me up and set me down in front of the bathroom door. I thought about leaping onto the bed after I had my snack but the giant squid did one of those over-the-shoulder holds and took me downstairs so he could have a snack too. Unfortunately, he was out of couth and he swatted me the whole way down the stairs.
The dogs woke up and went on immediate "food alert" so I gave them snacks, too.
SWAT!
"Don't feed the dogs in the middle of the night, bambina."
Tsk
When we went back upstairs, SweetPea blustered his way into the bedroom and immediately stuck his nose under the bed!
I knew it! Something was under my bed!
Cowboy deposited me in the middle of the bed and got down on his hands and knees and looked under it with a flashlight. I told him how brave he was but then I remembered he was a Seal and a fearsome warrior.
He snorted when I said that and he was on his hands and knees and his butt was accessible... I couldn't let that opportunity go by... so I goosed him.
SWAT!
Miss Emmy, the cat, came out from under the bed and hissed and spit at Cowboy. He picked her up by the scruff of her neck and put her on the other side of the bedroom door.
I've thought about hissing and spitting at him myself a time or two. I have a feeling it wouldn't be my neck that would be in jeopardy.
"See! No monsters," he said when he got back in bed.
Miss Emmy isn't a monster but she *is* an ankle grabber.
"You saved me," I told him and hugged him tight. "But just in case... the monsters' arms come sneaking out from under the bed and poke around looking for me, I'm going to sleep on top of you tonight."
"Bambina, you only sleep on top of me when your tush is too sore for you to sleep on your back."
"I'm making an exception," I told him sweetly.
"I veto the exception," the Neanderthal said much too calmly and gave me a couple of really hard swats.
Tsk
"Okay, not sleeping on top of you, you big lug. But if the monsters get me, there's no sex for you ever again! No peach cobbler, either," I added.
He pulled me on top of him and I slept there all night.
~Sar~
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