Peach Cobbler Bribery

I have jetlag. We left Japan on a Tuesday and got home the day before... When we left home to go to Japan, we lost a day. Somewhere in the scheme of things, I think we made up for that lost day but hopefully, I didn't miss any meals. I ate extra Twinkies just in case.

We had a wonderful time - acted like tourists, going here, there and everywhere and ate all sorts of things that tasted good but had unidentifiable ingredients. While the giant squid did his giant squid thing, I kept his credit card company in business.

"Don't buy out all of Tokyo, imp," the Neanderthal said.

"I won't."

Was actually planning on raising the economy in Kyoto instead and when that was accomplished, was going to see what they had in Osaka and maybe, Kobe.

SWAT!

Tsk

Naturally, I had everything shipped home.

And when we got home, there was a very large pile of mail to sort through. Cowboy pulled out all the bills to pay and discarded the junked mail. One envelope was addressed to us by our last name only so he opened that.

"Who's Jim?"

"Jim? Jim who?"

"He's inquiring as to your whereabouts. Who's Jim?"

I scanned the letter and smiled. "Ohhhhhh... Jim."

At this point, the giant squid had his arms crossed over his chest very much like Popeye does when he's glaring at poor lil 'ole Olive Oil. The squid's biceps are about the same size.

Tsk

"I'm waiting."

Hark! Was that a note of impatience I heard?

"SAR!"

Make that FARK!

"Umm... Jimmy was a boy I knew in college."

"Jimmy?"

"Welllll... his mom probably named him James and his pals probably call him Jim but I... uh... always called him Jimmy."

"Jimmy," the giant squid muttered. "That's a name for a boy," he snorted. "You were dating a boy?"

"We didn't actually date. We went out a time or two for breakfast but we were just friends and I heard he married a gal from his hometown right after college and they have grown kids and are probably grandparents by now and he was always a perfect gentleman and never even held my hand and I was always hungry and he didn't mind springing for breakfast and in return, I shared my class notes and..."

Oy! I'm rambling.

"Breakfast?" the Neanderthal narrowed his eyes at me. "Why breakfast? What were you doing with Jimmy boy before breakfast? Why not dinner?"

Breakfast is the only word he heard? I do believe the man is jealous of a boy I used to know umpteen years ago. Pardon me while I laugh while I still can.

"We met at the college cafeteria *before* class, that's what we did."

"Uh huh. And why does he want to contact you now?"

"Probably figured out the Internet was a good way to reconnect with old friends."

"You planning on answering this letter?"

"You wouldn't mind?"

"I would mind. What does this guy look like?"

"Well, he always loved to eat and he married a professional caterer so he's probably got a huge belly, lots of chins and he had pale blond hair - wouldn't be surprised if he's bald by now."

He used to be the spitting image of a young Paul Newman and girls followed him everywhere.

"Send him an email through my account and if he's ever out this way, we can have dinner with him and his wife."

"You jealous?" I asked and hugged my guy tight around the waist.

"Do I have a reason to be?" he countered and hugged me back.

"Wellll....."

SWAT!

Tsk

"I love making you jealous, squidlet."

"I love warming your butt, imp."

"Peach cobbler for dessert, tonight."

"What are you serving it with?"

"Me."

"That might lead to a sweet spanking."

~ sigh ~

~Sar~

P.S. As soon as time permits, I will create a link for some recipes - peach cobbler included - as well as some other dishes that kindle and refuel romance.

Feeling needy...

You know that needy feeling? A friend called the other night and told me she had a "needy" urge building.

"What kind of needy?" I asked. "Food? Chocolate? Sex? Shoe shopping? The need to shoot someone?"

"Comfort food."

"Ohhhhhh."

I eat a lot of comfort food all the time. I'm big on Twinkies... you knew that... and I'm a huge fan of Mac & Cheese in the blue Kraft box, Cracker Jacks, chocolate of course, and cheesecake. When I'm feeling all empty inside and the giant squid isn't available to cuddle with... I might make a big bowl of mashed potatoes swimming in butter and cream and eat that. If I'm upset about a particular thing, I generally make a Tunnel of Fudge cake and eat that. Food is big in my life - you knew that, too, and frankly, it's a good thing I don't eat a lot of veggies. I rarely gain weight; if I ate veggies, I'd blow over in a breeze.

When the giant squid is worn out from the job, I make linguini with butter and grated cheese, garlic bread and put a bottle of wine on the table. When he's feeling down - which doesn't happen too often - I make a dish his mom used to make for him when he was a little boy. I know it's hard to believe... but the giant squid was once a little boy. I have pictures to prove it but it's possible they're doctored photos and he was born whole - tall - and a Neanderthal.

The dish is a combination of sliced tomatoes, green peppers, and some Italian spices all sautéed in olive oil. When that's soft and smelling like heaven, I crack a few eggs over the whole thing and the eggs get poached over the tomatoes, etc and the combination is so good he feels better in no time. Once that needy appetite is taken care of, I help him take care of his other needy appetites. No need to discuss details; I'm sure you understand.

And... he could eat peach cobbler every night.

Back to my friend who was needy and wanted comfort food from her childhood:

"You want tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich? Chocolate cake? Peanut butter and jelly pancakes? What?"

"I want kugel. Noodle kugel with lots of cheese."

"Ohhhhh."

This gal is the only child of a Japanese mother and a Chinese father. She grew up in a multi-ethnic neighborhood and ate a lot of multi-ethnic delicacies. Of course, she also ate a lot of Asian food. Her mother despairs that her favorite dish is noodle kugel. Kugel is pudding. Noodle kugel is a combination of broad flat noodles, LOTS of butter and cream cheese and sugar and topped with berries - sort of a Jewish style cheesecake. It is scrumptious hot from the oven or cold from the fridge and is one of those dishes no one in their right mind would take all the time it takes to make one and share it. This is a dish best eaten when no one but me and the pups are home.

"You're making noodle kugel for Angie?" my husband, the caveman asked as I boiled water for the noodles and softened 24 ounces of cream cheese in the microwave.

"Uh huh."

"Are you making peach cobbler for me?"

"No."

SWAT!

Tsk

"Why not?"

"She's feeling needy and I think giving her noodle kugel is better than hearing about her on the 6 o'clock news. She just got her permit to carry license."

"I've got a permit to carry, bambina, and I've also getting a "needy" feeling."

"You are?"

"Yep, and your butt is gonna feel how needy I am if I don't see homemade peach cobbler on the table tonight."

"Piss-ant!"

SWAT!

Tsk

"What are you gonna do if I make peach cobbler for you? Other than not spanking me, of course."

"I'm probably gonna upend you anyway for being sassy," he grinned and hugged me way too tight. "And stuff will probably happen after I eat the cobbler." Grin became very wicked, kisses happened, hands got fresh - tsk - and I momentarily forgot what I was doing.

Double tsk.

"And...?"

"And I'm taking you to Japan with me. We leave in a few days."

"Ohhhhhhh, peach cobbler coming right up!"

We're off to Japan for a few days so the giant squid can do his giant squid thing and I'll get a chance to smoke his credit card again. And yes, I made noodle kugel for my friend - we shared it - and peach cobbler for the squid and I'm packed and ready to go. Will catch up with you in a few days.

"Just cause we'll be overseas doesn't mean you won't get your tush toasted if necessary, bambina. Japan is the land of the rising sun and your tush blazing would be appropriate."

Next time I make peach cobbler... I might add a new ingredient... ipecac or saltpeter.

~Sar~

Peaches & Cavemen

I'm married to a Neanderthal. I don't know how that happened; I was never attracted to the caveman mentality. Oh sure, when I was a kid, I loved watching Tarzan marathons. I loved the Johnnie Weissmuller Tarzan. "Me Tarzan, you Jane." In truth, I was more impressed with Chita; the chimp made more sense than the grunting ape man. The new Tarzans are just a little too pretty to be manly and watching them swing...

On a site I visit regularly, someone described a lady's husband as an ALPHA male - capital A! That pretty much sums up the giant squid, too. He was alpha when we met:

I was dancing at a veteran's benefit at Smithsonian House in Washington, DC. He crashed the makeshift dressing rooms, informed me we were having dinner and before I knew it, we WERE having dinner. I thanked him for dinner and refused to let him kiss me. He took me home and camped out on my doorstep until I agreed to go out with him again.

A few weeks later, Alpha caveman proposed. I said no. I was too young to get married - 19 - and about to graduate from college. I wanted to live a little and see what there was to see before settling down. The Neanderthal threatened to spank me until I said yes. After one too many sore bottom sessions, I said yes.

I threatened to shoot him if he kept spanking me. He said he'd only spank me if I put my health/life or our life together in jeopardy.

Soooo...

When we got home from the dentist... I got more than a playful swat for intimidating the dentist/vampire trying to dig for blood-red gold in my mouth. You let a dentist/vampire see a little blood and they go crazy with bloodlust. I had to defend myself! And whatever the squid has to say about the rest of what happened is pure heresy and fantasy.

To avenge that completely undeserved spanking, I refused to make any more peach cobbler until he apologizes for acting like a Neanderthal.

Day 1: "How about peach cobbler, bambina? Peaches are in season."

"No, not baking today."

Day 2: "Cobbler tonight?"

"Nope."

Day 3: "There better be cobbler tonight!" the caveman growled.

"Okay."

Later, that night: "This is good, sweetheart but I was hoping for peach cobbler, not apple cobbler."

Methinks he's lucky he got *any* cobbler.

SWAT!

Tsk.

Day 4: "Peach cobbler tonight, no excuses," the Neanderthal announced as he came home mid-morning with a BUSHEL of fresh peaches.

I made peach pie.

"I could spank you for this," he informed me when I put the pie on the table after dinner.

"You could," I replied, "but I'd have to give the rest of the peaches to the crows."

"What am I going to do with you, bambina?" he asked after he ate a large portion of pie.

I made a few suggestions and while suggesting... I stripped, grabbed two peaches and squished them so their juices dribbled down my naked body. That got the caveman's immediate attention. Apparently, cavemen are fond of peaches regardless of how they are presented for consumption.

~Sar~

Sainthood!

It is a little known fact that dentists are descended from vampires. They hide their smiles behind the whitest and brightest set of teeth, so bright it blinds you to the fact that their canine teeth a.k.a. fangs, are actually longer than what one expects to see in a person who goes about during daylight hours.

"You're going in for a checkup whether you like it or not," the Neanderthal I live with announced as he took the tin of peanut brittle out of my hand. "And you're not going in with a mouthful of peanut brittle. Are we clear on this?"

"Yeah, yeah."

SWAT!

Tsk. I'm going in with a mouthful of saltwater taffy.

Ya ever notice how dentists like to use needles? Blood suckers are fond of needles. They shoot up your gums with what they call painkillers but what they're really doing is numbing you to the point that you have no clue as to what they're doing in your mouth. Vampires do this by nipping some vein or other in the side of your neck and when you're numb, they DRINK YOUR BLOOD!

"And don't call the dentist Dracula when you're in the dental chair. Last time you did that, the man requested transfer to a hospital ship in the middle of the Persian Gulf."

Tsk. There was an opening in Okinawa; he could have gone there and I won't call him Dracula. I'm thinking more along the lines of referring to him as the master of darkness.

SWAT!

Tsk.

So we get to the Navy base and the dental office and there is no one else in the waiting area except me and the giant squid. The dental assistant comes out to get me and I scan the area to see if there is more than one escape exit. Cowboy is standing in front of the door we came through. His arms are folded across his chest and he arches a brow at me and nods toward the dental assistant and the hall leading to the place of DOOM! I slip a couple pieces of taffy into my mouth and grudgingly follow the vampire drone.

"How are we today?" the dentist asks as I reluctantly sit in that stupid chair with the dohicky at the top to rest my head against.

Oh boy! This one's a citrus beverage.

"So you're the Admiral's wife," he says with a very white and bright toothy smile.

Gee! What was his clue? The fact that the giant squid is wearing summer whites and his admiral's stars are on his shoulders? The elaborate braid on his cover?

"I see you haven't had a checkup in a while. Glad you made the appointment."

I didn't make the appointment. Cowboy's yeoman made the appointment and I definitely misjudged the young man. His loyalty is supposed to be to ME and not to his commanding officer! I'll get my revenge at Christmas...

"Okay, open wide. Let's take a look," the dentist, still fearless and clueless, says with that toothy smile.

"I bite," I inform him.

"Ha ha," the man - still standing - replies. "Should I be afraid of you?" he asks.

"Very."

"You wouldn't hurt me, would you?" He's almost giddy. I think it's the smile thing. Those fangs must release laughing gas.

"Yes, I would."

"We can do this easy. Let me take a look and some x-rays and you'll be on your way. Small children aren't afraid of me," he assures me.

"Small children are more trusting than I am."

"I promise not to hurt you."

"Hurt me and I'll hurt you back."

"SAR!"

Jeez. The squid has Superman's hearing.

"You know," he pauses as he pokes around in my mouth with a mirror thing and a sterile version of an ice pick. "Ahh..." he sighs as he takes note of my taffy coated teeth. "I've heard stories about you."

"They're all true," I admit as I pull his hand out of my mouth.

"Now, now," he says. "You look too nice to act like that. I'm here to make sure you have healthy teeth and gums and nothing more. I bet you're really all bark and no bite."

This said with that white and bright toothy smile. From where I'm sitting, his canine teeth look extra large and long. He must be a mutant strain of vampire to be able to work in daylight. "Okay, that's enough," I announce and get out of that chair.

"Where are you going?" he asks, as perplexed as a cactus that lost its thorns.

"Home."

"Where are you going, imp?" my husband glares as he walks in the room.

We pause here to reminisce...

Once, when Cowboy was at sea, I woke up with a horrendous toothache. We were living in Virginia then and our friend David was on liberty and he had just bought a condo not too far from us. I called him and told him I needed to go to the dentist and could he take me? I was in too much pain to drive.

David, a senior ranked officer in the Marine Corps has sworn to protect the constitution of the United States and all that other stuff. While he drove me to the dentist, he warned me that he'd spank me if I didn't behave.

"Yeah, yeah, like that's gonna happen. Cowboy will dismember you if you do."

He rolled his eyes. What is it with that eye rolling bit? Am I supposed to be impressed? It's like convicted felons or protesters announcing they're going on a food strike if authorities don't do such and so. Am I supposed to care if they starve themselves on purpose? GO FOR IT!

Where was I? Oh... I had an abscessed tooth and needed a root canal. David came into the exam room with me and told the dentist to make sure I experienced zero pain or else. The dentist asked if he was in the room to protect me.

"Nope. I'm here to protect you."

Tsk.

So...

When Cowboy came into the room as I was attempting to leave, he wasted no time manhandling me back into the dental chair.

"Behave!"

I thought I *was* behaving. My behavior was typical me. If I had been misbehaving, I wouldn't have made a fuss. Tsk.

"Taffy?" he said when he peeked into my mouth over the dentist's shoulder.

I kept my eyes shut. I was afraid the glare from the squid's eyes combined with the dentist's white and bright toothy smile was gonna blind me for all time.

"I think we'll need to discuss this when we get home," the Neanderthal announced.

"Her teeth look good," the dentist said as my elbow was aimed toward his gut.

"Amazing," Cowboy shook his head. "The crap she eats should have rotted them all out by now."

I AM A SAINT! I didn't say a word.

But... I went back to the dentist's office at a later date and left several boxes of saltwater taffy in the waiting area and I'm not making peach cobbler for Cowboy till he apologizes for warming my butt.

~Sar~

My Turn!

The imp's version of what occurs often omits salient facts.

We left Iceland intact and the Keflavik Naval Air Station is only slightly worse for wear. Their security was beefed up after the imp demonstrated her innocent smile and her skill with lock picks. My reputation as a no nonsense officer was severely damaged. Her innocent smile wins me over every time. I owe her a swat for that one.

When we arrived on base I received the salutes and greetings from those subordinate in rank as is military protocol. The 2 officers equal to me ignored me until they had greeted Sar. I felt like JFK did when he went to Paris with his wife and announced he was the man who escorted Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy. I was also invisible when we ate at the Officers Club. The chef went out of his way to ask Sar what she wanted to eat that he would personally cook for her. He ignored me.

The credit card company was so impressed with Sar's spending, they raised my limit. I owe her a swat for that one too.

D.C.: A few of my old Seal Team buddies were in town for the 4th as were other Seals from the time of my active duty in the Teams. It was great to spend time with them and remember events and people. I didn't object when Sar left us to our conversation but I thought she was going out to shop. I didn't realize she was going to the zoo.

Sar loves zoos and they are dangerous places for her to be by herself. She wants to adopt all the babies. Next, she wants to eat everything there is to eat. I'm wrong. She wants to eat first, adopt the animals second. I am grateful the zoo does not have one of those "give this animal a good home" programs. Exotic animals belong in zoos, not in my backyard and no, she's not getting a giraffe or any other creature that belongs to the jungle or the savanna or elsewhere in the wild.

The minute she walked in the hotel room I knew she had been to the zoo. She had the "full" look which she gets when she's been eating junk all day and she was "high." The zoo always makes her high. Between all those snacks and chocolate and seeing all those animals, Sar doesn't understand why people do drugs. Neither do I. I owe her another swat for eating all that junk.

We were able to see an impressive fireworks display even with the rain. Friends arranged for us to have seats on the covered deck of a paddleboat. From the Potomac, the view was outstanding. Sar was ecstatic with the show and I admit, watching her was better than watching fireworks.

When we got home I was the invisible man again. The pups were all over her and pretty much ignored me. This is ok with me. I gave them some time to reconnect and after a while I went out to the back deck to see how the love fest was going on. Sar was asleep on a deck chair with 5 pups dangling off the side of the chair or at her feet. This is how it is when you live with a "dog whisperer." I carried her inside and got her ready for bed.

The next morning I told her I owed her a spanking. She yawned in my face but if the UPS guy has to make twice daily deliveries, she's definitely in for one of those hand-to-butt discussions. Yeah, I'm a Neanderthal and proud of it!

Cowboy

My Version

Regardless of what the giant squid says, this is the way it happened.

We left Iceland intact. I didn't do any damage although I did make an idle comment that pickled herring might not be the best choice for a "national fish." And I might have mentioned that they need a larger inventory of better chocolates in their grocery stores and specialty shops. Then there was the TOTAL lack of root beer. There were no Kraft macaroni & cheese boxes anywhere AND they never heard of Twinkies.

Shocked!

This lack of Twinkies could easily qualify them as a third-world country. My apologies to the Ho-Ho fanatics. Good thing I brought my own supply and yes, I easily converted a few natives.

We flew from Iceland to Washington, D.C. where Cowboy communed with his old Seal buddies. Our hotel room reeked of testosterone so I left them to their male bonding and scooted off to the zoo.

~sigh~

I love zoos.

My favorite exhibits are the pandas and the eagles and the elephants and the tigers. The food concessions are wonderful! I ate a lot. The petting zoo was extra nice. I got to pet a baby elephant. In about a week, it will be too big so I petted like crazy. There was a curious giraffe that occasionally dipped its head down to be fed and it was love at first sight. I told the giant squid I'd have to check the homeowners association regs to see if we could have one.

He said no.

Tsk.

I may have to look into that myself. Giraffes have the most amazing eyes and eyelashes, really beautiful creatures. Surely, somewhere in the U.S., there's an "adopt-a-giraffe" program.

"I said no!"

Ya suppose he was talking to me? No, I don't think so, either.

SWAT!

Tsk.

Mr. Grumpy was not happy I went to the zoo by myself. Too bad. He was busy swapping Sealy stories with the guys. I couldn't just sit there and besides... I hadn't had a chance to commandeer his other credit cards. The one I used in Iceland was still smoking.

The weather was really damp on the 4th but we still enjoyed the fireworks display. By the time we left D.C., I was more than ready to sleep in my own bed.

The pups were delirious to see us. Well... they were happy to see me. They pretty much ignored the giant squid. He said now that we're home, things things?? will return to normal. I interpret this to mean that I need to do something heinous to his right arm in order to save my innocent butt.

I immediately left the room, walking backwards.

"What did you do, Sar?" the always suspicious Neanderthal asked.

"Me? I'm innocent, I tell you."

Truly, it's quite tacky to watch a grown man roll his eyes.

Sar

Trip: Phase 2

We leave Iceland on Sunday, heading toward D.C. to celebrate the 4th of July in our nation's capital. We love this holiday commemorating our independence as a free nation. We were in Boston one year - a lot of tea got wasted in the harbor - probably, Earl Grey... and we ate a lot of good seafood. Celebrating in Washington is a treat. There's a concert on the mall, fireworks galore and of course, we get to visit old haunts.

We're supposed to stay at a friend's condo in Virginia but I'm pushing to stay at the Woodland Park Sheraton which is one subway stop away from the National Zoo. I've been there before - they have Maryland crab cakes on the lunch buffet! The giant squid is thinking about it. He doesn't mind taking me to the zoo but he says he doesn't want me to eat my way across the whole place. Tsk. The zoo is so large I can barely eat my way across half of it.

SWAT

Tsk

We'll stop by Smithsonian House. That's where we met and that's where we were married a heck of a lot of spankings ago. And we'll go to Arlington because it's always good to visit old friends to let them know we continue to think of them. At the end of each visit we make a final stop at the Tomb of the Unknowns. Today's technology helps us identify most remains but Cowboy sees the Tomb as a memorial to all the valiant warriors that remain MIA or are buried in unknown places.

4th of July celebrations include parades and hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill and cherry cokes and root beer floats and lots of pie. Cherry pie is traditional and so are apple pie and blueberry pie. Mr. Grumpy isn't too happy about this. He looks forward to a thick slice of peach pie. I'll eat the blueberry and probably eat his share too. I like blueberry pie served hot with vanilla ice cream on top. It takes about a pint and a half of ice cream to cover a pie - perfect! I like to get a mouthful and smile... then I can gross out all the old ladies tsking away at how much I'm consuming.

Where does she put it?

In my mouth, you moron!

SWAT

Tsk

We get to eat all these treats at a tent reserved for military visitors during the celebrations. Cowboy says the ladies serving are members of the DAR - Daughters of the American Revolution. I've seen some of these ladies and some of them probably saw the revolution first hand... for sure some of them are also members of the temperance union. This might be the time for me to sing "God Save the Queen."

SWAT!

Tsk

Called home last night to check on my pups. BullyBoy complained about the lack of beer but our house sitter said he was getting beaten to death by Bully's happy end as he listened to me talk to him on the speakerphone. I promised him a six-pack as soon as I get home - BullyBoy, not the house sitter. The Rott whined and wanted to know when I'd be home. I don't know why folks think Rotts are so ferocious; mine is a mama's boy.

DomTom played the innocent card and purred into the phone. DomTom only purrs when he's been up to mischief. I wonder where he learned that. The house sitter said Miss Emmy lost one of her lives when she sneaked out onto the back deck. The outside Rott, Tank, caught her and slobbered over her and it scared her to death. She's been under the bed since Tuesday.

House sitter also said Tank and Panda made whoopee in the middle of the backyard. I don't have the heart to tell Tank that Panda was fixed a long time ago. Cowboy says as long as they're enjoying themselves and we won't get puppies, who cares? Well... I know for a fact that my almost-98-year-old neighbor, Peeper Patterson took pictures... and he's been showing them around the neighborhood. Our neighbor Ms.HairUpHerAss is easily grossed out. I wonder if I should let Tank and Panda into the front yard where all the neighbors can watch the show live...

SWAT

Tsk

We'll be home in a few days and the pups will go back to their normal diet of eating what I eat. I found a supply of the original Cracker Jack in a box with prizes in Reykjavik of all places. I bought the inventory and had it shipped home. I also emailed the grocer to ship a crate of Kraft Mac & Cheese to the house - one can never have enough of that on hand. Between that and my Twinkie stash, the pups and I can eat very well when Cowboy leaves the house.

Will try to send a note from D.C. but no promises. I know my way around that town and it's my responsibility to make sure Cowboy has his hands full chasing me hither, thither and yon. He doesn't seem to mind the hither and thither. It's the yon that usually gets me in trouble.

~Sar~

Top 'O the World!

Well, almost the top of the world, not quite. We're in Iceland and it is absolutely spectacular here! And it's cool! They're having a heat wave back home with temps in the 90s but here it's mid 40s and the sun is shining and it is just beautiful!

We had a direct flight from Whidbey Island and after a snack from my duffel bag, I leaned against the giant squid and slept the entire way. It's what I do best on airplanes. According to the Neanderthal, it keeps me out of mischief but it also makes me well rested for whatever is going to happen when we land.

Naturally I was starved when that happened and to keep me happy, the giant squid took me to an old-fashioned TEXAS Bar-B-Q house IN ICELAND! I ate everything and since I was bouncing with excess energy, we took a nice long walk along the main shopping street. Cowboy held onto my hand as we walked because he says he could blink and I could disappear from view.

"Tsk. That would never happen. It would take at least two blinks."

SWAT!

Tsk.

He is fond of saying we were window shopping... I saw it as "casing the area" so I'd know which shops needed contributions from his credit card. Christmas isn't that far away; I wanted to get a few things. That's why I packed an empty duffel bag... We also found an ice cream shoppe so we stopped in there, too.

So far, so good.

We stayed at the visiting officers' quarters at the naval base for the first few nights and when Cowboy's military tasks were completed, we moved into an Icelandic hotel. We'll be here a couple more days before flying home for a week or so and then we're off again.

While Cowboy was busy at the base, one of the other officer's wives took me out shopping and sight seeing. We were stationed here for a brief period many years ago and things have changed a lot. The views, the water, the geysers, panoramic and all still breathtaking. The shops, the restaurants, the "night" scene - much more "Western" with a European flavor.

Looking out over the ocean, it feels like I'm standing on top of the world. Cowboy says the North Pole is the top of the world but he's a sailor and he navigates by stars and the night sky and sometimes, by where the sun is positioned overhead. I'm a land lubber - when I'm standing on some naturally high edifice with solid ground beneath my feet and I look out over the ocean, it feels like I'm at the top of the world.

"The North Pole, bambina, not Iceland."

"What about Lapland?"

"What about it?"

"Allegedly, Santa lives at the North Pole but don't his reindeers come from Lapland? I think Lapland might be the top of the world."

SWAT!

Jeez. Sailors are a sensitive bunch.

"Do you suppose Santa has a summer home there? If he does, he could get a spare team in case Donder and Blunder and Trixie and Mixin and Rudolph get too old."

SWAT!

Good God! Don't ruin a little boy's fantasies about Santa Claus no matter how old or tall or senior ranked he is.

SWAT!

Double tsk!

Shopping here has been wunderbar! Most folks speak English, some speak German or one of the Nordic tongues - Danish, Swedish, Norn - and of course, Icelandic. I love hearing all the different languages and I tried hard to learn how to say a few naughty words in Icelandic but everyone I asked knew Cowboy and chose to stay out of the brig. Big wusses.

At the end of my second shopping day, Cowboy asked me to give his credit card back.

"Why?"

"Cause it's burning so hot, it's been sending me smoke signals all day."

"What do the smoke signals say?"

"They say if you don't slow down, I'm going to smoke your butt."

Tsk! I was shocked.

"That's very kinky."

SWAT!

Double tsk. The credit card company must have called him.

We went sight seeing and later, all bundled up in sweaters and parkas, we went out on a sailboat. The sun was shining, the wind mild enough for us but strong enough for the sails and absolutely stunning scenery. At night, a whole group of us met on the beach, lit a fire and ate pickled herring and some kind of wheat cake and drank a hot brew that made me a little tipsy... Apparently a little too tipsy because it was later reported that a U.S. Navy Admiral's wife began singing all twelve verses to "The Bastard King of England." Surely that could NOT have been me - I only know eight verses.

Cowboy said it wasn't much longer after that when he said our goodnights and he rushed me back to the hotel and took advantage of my slightly drunken state. Tsk. The man is totally lacking in couth.

~Sar~

Summer Travels

Cowboy here. The imp is busy doing imp things. Not sure I want to know what that entails. We were supposed to go out of town yesterday but a last minute glitch delayed our trip for a few days. I have a temporary duty assignment elsewhere and am taking Sar with me.

She's packed and ready to go. We're sharing a duffel that's loaded with chocolate and Cracker Jacks and Twinkies and very few clothes. Fortunately, my uniforms are in a garment bag. I suspect my credit card will get a good workout; Sar will probably buy anything she needs (and wants) when we get to our destination.

We'll be visiting Navy bases. Half of the base commandants are eager to see the imp; she's a favorite of theirs. The other half are using her visit as an opportunity to test their security. I hope she didn't pack her lock picks.

The animals know she's leaving. They don't seem to mind when I go out of town but when they see her pack chocolate, they know she's leaving and they're not happy about it. When I go out of town, Sar feeds them extra treats like all the meat in the freezer and they'll eat a lot more takeout. Beer and wine consumption goes up too. Sar doesn't drink beer and she isn't much of a wine drinker but I notice my Port and Merlot supplies are diminished when I get home. The Rott is a wine-o.

She spent most of this afternoon on the back deck with all her pups. Our outside Rotts think the sun rises and sets on her and rightly so. We rescued them when they were less than a year old and in bad shape and today they are 2 handsome and healthy and well trained dogs. Both of them continue to charge toward her when they see her but also skid to a stop before bowling her over. The male Rott outweighs her by about 10-15 lbs. and the female Rott has at least 5 lbs. on her. One of my favorite photos of her is one with the big Rott's head resting in her lap.

All 4 dogs, 3 Rotts and the Mastiff lay as close to her as they can get. I stand at the back door and listen to her. She talks to them and they talk back making throat sounds. Rotts can be very cat-like. Ours make a soft growling sound that is a sound of content similar to a cat's purr. We are still fostering the much older bloodhound Archie. He lays at Sar's feet and seems happy to be there.

We have a house/pet sitter that stays here when we're away. Sar will call home every couple of nights to make sure all is ok. The house sitter says the dogs get excited when they hear her voice on the speakerphone. Come to think of it, so do I.

We'll try to update the blog during our travels. Sar is bound to have something to say about where we've been and just how much of a Neanderthal I can be when I'm in uniform. Don't let that air of innocence she portrays fool you. I can guarantee she's bound to earn a swat or 2 while we're away.

Cowboy

Cowpoke

His Holiness had night duty the other night, not something he does often any more but a matter needed his attention and he elected to get it done when things were quieter at the base.

I have occasional bouts of insomnia and sleep even less when he's not at home. I'm used to sleeping with his large paw around me and even though it's annoying to hear him growl in his sleep when I try to get out of bed in the middle of the night, it's one more constant that I'm used to.

So... years ago I made a giant squid clone to take to bed with me. It slept with me every time Cowboy went off to sea and sleeps with me whenever the squid is on night duty.

I think he's jealous.

Cowboy's clone is a soft-cloth doll, almost 5 feet tall and when I presented him to Cowboy as a Christmas present eons ago, he thought it was cute. He didn't expect me to sleep with it.

Usually the clone is dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, loafers without socks and underneath, it's wearing boxers. Did I mention when I made him... I made him anatomically correct?

Mama mia!

When he... er... it sleeps with me, it's only wearing boxers. I call him Cowpoke. I snuggle back into its chest, put its arms around me and I sleep better.

So... Cowboy comes home after night duty - about 6 a.m. and there I am in bed with his clone.

Tsk.

To say he wasn't thrilled to see me in bed with another... even though that "other" was him... is an understatement. Poor Cowpoke. He... er... it was violently thrown across the room, hit the wall, slid to the floor and ended up all twisted, arms and legs and private parts - peeking out from under the boxers - tsk and double tsk.

The pups, hearing the commotion, rushed into the room and dragged poor Cowpoke out by the neck.

"KILL!" Cowboy yells.

Tsk.

Cowpoke has had a most unorthodox autopsy.

"Now who am I going to sleep with?" I asked.

"Me!" the Neanderthal announced and gave me a SWAT!

"What was that for?"

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself too much. I don't want you sleeping with that thing any more!"

I can barely type. I'm giggling so much. The giant squid is jealous of his clone. I'll just have to make another one I guess.

SWAT

Double tsk.

~Sar~

Happy Birthday Time!

The giant squid had a birthday a few days ago. I think all year long, he lives in fear of what I might do to help him celebrate.

Big wuss.

As usual, he told me not to make a fuss. He wanted a quiet dinner, peach cobbler for dessert and no gag gifts. He said he was getting older and a quiet celebration was just fine.

"Uh huh."

"I mean it, Sar. Nothing overboard."

So I made sure we had a lovely dinner, peach cobbler for dessert and no gag gifts on his birthday.

However...

The night before...

We had a slam dunk of a party! It was GREAT! I invited a bunch of friends, had a LOT of gag gifts and more peach cobbler and streamers and whoopee cushions. There was also a piñata filled with taffy (and condoms... These are sailors and marines - don't ask, don't tell, don't even think about it) and a male stripper jumped out of a cake and the other ladies and I enjoyed e-v-e-r-y second of that act.

Cowboy was speechless! Naturally I took a picture of that "rarer than Haley's Comet" moment.

Once everyone had calmed down, the stripper had left, and the cake was being consumed, I set up an ancient 8MM film projector. Everybody teased me about the old technology but were in stitches when I showed film of the former Seal-currently Admiral as a boy... washing a car, flirting with the camera as he tried to make hoops, wrestling with David in the backyard of his childhood home. There were also a few shots of him at a very early age - his mama wiping his face with a wet cloth because he had marinara sauce EVERYWHERE.

LOL! He was really a good sport about the whole thing. Of course, I kept a BIG distance between us until I was sure he was a little tipsy from all the wine he consumed. I also managed to stand behind one of his larger-than-life friends when I noticed "that look" when his gaze found me.

Happy Birthday cake and ice cream and presents were all wonderful. He enjoyed it in spite of all the naughty stuff but what's a birthday party without pony rides? Dutifully, everyone followed me out to the back deck and Lo! and behold! A beautiful pony was in our backyard, saddled and ready for us. The pony's owner took one look at Cowboy and said he was too big to ride that sweet creature so naturally, I got to ride it instead. I think Cowboy was relieved. It would have looked funny if he got in the saddle and his feet touched the ground. Tsk. It would have made a great picture.

All the ladies got a ride and while we were taking turns, the birthday boy assured me I would be getting "his" birthday spanking later that evening... Hmm... This was worrisome because the giant squid is so o-l-d, he probably wouldn't be able to count that high and keep the numbers straight. I thought about making flash cards.

When everyone finally left for the evening and he was reaching a Pop-Eye arm out to grab me, I reminded him that his birthday wasn't until the next day so spanking me would be premature.

He said he needed the practice.

Oy!

Lots of hugging and kissing and far too many swats later, the band played on. Later, when we were cuddling and enjoying that sweet time before sleep took over, I noticed my pups were sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed watching us.

Uh-oh! The pups are always locked out of the bedroom when Cowboy is home. I swear... both the Mastiff and the Rott looked like they were desperate for a cigarette.

Tsk.

~Sar~

Swat! ... Tsk!

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~

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~

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.

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

Neanderthals Anonymous

My Internet name is Cowboy and I'm a Neanderthal.

My birth name isn't Cowboy. I hail from the great state of Texas and some of my friends call me Cowboy. That's ok. Cowboy is a lot better than the names I was called when I was at the academy and a green midshipman. You think that's bad you should hear what they call the wannabe marines.

When a man is in the "doghouse" with his wife, it's supposed to be a bad thing. I'm never in the doghouse. Our doghouses aren't bad places to be. We have 10 kennels for dogs we foster and every last one of them is a decent place to live - if you're a dog. All the kennels are a good size. They have enclosed shelters and open runs. Sar put comfortable beds in all of them. She made covers for the beds with zippers so she can take them off and wash them which she does regularly - a couple at a time. The kennels have radiant heat and cooling fans in the back wall. Water is dispensed automatically to a built in concrete trough. I know all this because she badgered me into installing everything.

I mentioned that if we ever move we'll just leave everything for the next owner. Sar said if we move we take everything with us because she doesn't want to build new kennels from scratch. SHE doesn't want to build new kennels from scratch? I wasn't going to build new ones. I was going to hire someone to do that.

So I'm a Neanderthal.

Next topic:
One of my former commanding officers is retired now and out here on the West Coast vacationing with his family. His adult daughter is a "vegan." This must be a new trend cause there seems to be a lot of that going round. I warned Sar not to wave bloody meat around when they were in the house.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

The "butcher" delivered half a cow while they were here and naturally, my wife made a point of checking all the cuts of meat to make sure there was enough bloody meat to last us a while. Then she had a long conversation with the guy about veal and lamb and fresh chickens and turkeys and so help me God, if company wasn't in the house I would have upended her on the spot.

You're damn right I'm a Neanderthal!

The young woman eats eggs and cheese so I think this means she's a vegan some of the time. Not sure. Sar asked if she ate fish. No. What about chocolate she says. Yes. Too bad Sar says. Why? I won't go into all of that. Anyone who knows Sar knows she doesn't share chocolate. But she shared a box of Twinkies and now that this woman has been "Twinkie converted" Sar will probably wave Twinkies in front of her until she begs for a steak. Didn't take her long to convert the woman. I'm telling you. Sar needs to work with our anti-terrorist organizations. And as soon as our company left I lit a small fire on her tush.

Did I mention I'm a Neanderthal?

And I've been informed I need a food taster.

More on vegans:
The young woman left a list of good foods to eat and foods to avoid if Sar wanted to lead a more healthy life style. That was a quote.

My wife? Healthy life style? Uh huh.

I told her she really needs to read the lists. She reads the lists. Then she takes the list and calls all her dogs onto the back deck. Lights a fire in the outdoor grill. Burns the lists along with some leftover string beans and hums what sounds like a mantra. Her dogs - co-conspirators - hum-growl-mutter along with her. I deliver a smack to her butt. The dogs growl at me. Sar laughs. I smack again and tell her she's not gonna sit for a while if she keeps up this nonsense.

Not wanting to let the fire go to waste Sar grills a bunch of that bloody meat. Did I get any? No. Before I can enjoy a bite the dogs get most of it. Waiting for an apology she says. Apology? I may be a Neanderthal but I'm also in charge. I think.

Ok - no hate mail please. I love this woman.

I ask what do I have to do to stop being a Neanderthal. New DNA Sar says. I give her a good swat and steal the meat on her plate.

My name is Cowboy and I'm a Neanderthal.

Cowboy

This 'n That

'Tis Spring! My tulips are up, crocus in full bloom and lots of other colors in the garden beds. Hummingbirds are here year round but really hitting my nectar feeders hard now - must have babies on the way. The squirrels have organized - they have a union now - and demand their corn and peanuts no later than mid morning. Sometimes I see 5 or 6 on the back deck just waiting for me to show up. I keep thinking I should ask His Holiness to install a doorbell at the bottom of the door so they could ring it if I'm tardy with the food.

Woody Woodpecker's baby has had some really bad hair days - orange hair in a punk rock style and a voice like a screeching banshee. (No offense to the banshee lovers out there.)

"Don't tell them about the homeowners letter," Cowboy admonished when he read it.

The homeowners association sent me a letter... someone complained that my Rotts, Tank and Panda, were embarrassing them by making whoopee in the backyard in the middle of the day. Excuse me? I have a 7-foot wooden fence around the backyard. What was that person doing standing on a ladder peeking in?

"SAR!"

SWAT!

Tsk.

"And don't tell them what we often do in the backyard in warmer weather."

I wrote back that they should peek in around 7 p.m. when the giant squid and I are in the backyard and in the gazebo sharing a glass of wine. Sometimes we make whoopee out there. It would make for a better show. Tsk.

"SAR!"

SWAT!

Double Tsk.

Did I mention that the Passover dinner was spectacular? I ate everything, of course. I only had a few sips of wine but the three members of the clergy dining with us really went allllll out. Not sure if the priest and the rabbi were having a "I can drink more than you and still not fall on my face" contest or were just savoring the flavor. I had several different wines to choose from and I noticed the Navy chaplain had a glass of each. We made sure someone sober drove all of them home.

Easter dinner was a big hit. Cowboy refused to share his peach cobbler; good thing I made pineapple upside down cakes. I have a photo of him with his hands around the tray of cobblers and a "commanding officer's" glare on his face. LOL! I shall blow that pic up and use it for ammunition at the appropriate time. (The rabbi ate a LOT of the honey baked ham. Tsk and double tsk.) Cowboy said I should have had something else for the man to eat - like a roast or turkey. I asked the rabbi in advance what he wanted and he told me he'd have whatever we were having. I repeated this to the squid who rolled his eyes and said the man was just being polite. Polite? Polite would have been if he asked for the recipe. Tsk.

David brought me a HUGE basket with small chocolate bunnies (minus the ears - he said it's a new strain of bunnies - tsk) and filled with lots of jellybeans. The big bunny in the middle of the basket was... ready for this? Made out of BLACK JELLYBEANS! swooooon

Naturally, I bit off its head which grossed everybody out - except 8-about-to-be-9-year-old Patrick who said that was coooooool beans. I do adore that child.

Took the pups to local obedience trials. Six dogs in Cowboy's SUV take up a lot of room - left Tank and Panda home. My babies, SweetPea and BullyBoy went through a refresher trial; I used hand signals only and they flew threw easily. I've taught both dogs to "heel" back to me when they are in front of me by moving back into position at my side (going in reverse) rather than walking around me. It makes for a bit of entertainment and everyone gets a kick out of it. Both pups knew they did well and were jumping at the applause. I promised them wine and beer when we got home. Of course, we had to wait until the giant squid went off to do giant squid things before they could imbibe.

The foster dogs: Tuma, the Alaskan Malamute, did wonderfully well and he leaves this weekend for his new home. The family that adopted him has three small boys - a good match for an energetic pup. Murdoch, the Deerhound, also did well and he moved in to his new home yesterday - a family that does a lot of hiking and camping - another good match.

Oliver, the English Mastiff, rolled over in the middle of the trials, lifted his head to see who would scratch his belly and... we'll have to work a little harder to get him to pass. A couple of older gentlemen - brothers - adopted Daisy, another English Mastiff, from me over a year ago and have their eye on Oliver. They want Daisy to have a companion and I think that might be a good match, too. Daisy is extraordinarily spoiled by her owners - something I adore seeing, especially for a rescue dog.

Archie, the senior canine Bloodhound, howled through all the events and refused to go into the ring with me. We had a brief private discussion and he conceded defeat. He passed but did everything with his nose in the air as if to say it was beneath him. I may have to keep him 'cause he's an ornery cuss. Or... I could leave him on David's doorstep; David is also an ornery cuss.

My neighbor, MsHairUpHerAss, was hospitalized. I think that "hair" must have penetrated her insides 'cause she had her gall bladder removed. Didn't do anything for her personality; she's still a witch that got kicked out of a coven. We took Peeper Patterson, my next-door neighbor, to visit her. He said she looked great for an old witch.

"Sarrrr....." Jeez. Didn't even get a chance to agree with Peeper before I felt Cowboy's hand on my shoulder.

It is so pretty outside that I've been climbing the trees to wave at God. We have a lot of trees and I don't like to favor one over the other so I've climbed at least 2 each time I'm in the backyard. Saw "Lady Chatterly" and her sugar daddy in their yard... oye, could have missed that scene and lived quite happily.

Cowboy says he doesn't want me climbing trees. I might fall. I don't want him going out to sea. There might be a storm or a war or a leak in the boat. He goes out to sea anyway. I climb trees. He also keeps his right arm ready for instant "tail swatting."

I'm starting a new exercise program. Summer will be here in no time and I have new bathing suits. Couldn't decide between bikini # 1 and # 2 so I bought both. Have to firm up a little. Cowboy says I only need toning in my backside and he'll take care of that. Yeah, right.

The pups and I are jogging 5 miles - up from 3 when the giant squid isn't looking and we're eating more protein. I started doing crunches - tuck my feet under BullyBoy's chest and SweetPea sits at my back so I don't lie flat. It's a bit of a workout but very worthwhile. After 100 crunches, we reward ourselves with a big helping of mac and cheese. If I can work in some bicycle time we devour a box or 2 of Twinkies and chase those with Cracker Jacks. I love rewarding myself.

A vegan I know mentioned the merits of eating more vegetables to cut down on fats and bad-iments. Who are these people? Do their parents still talk to them? I think we should buy another country and put them all together in one place - they could get high preaching to the choir. Give me CHOCOLATE! Give me STEAK! Give me DESSERT! Life is too short to waste it on vegetables.

"SAR!"

SWAT!

Tsk.

~Sar~

Bunny Ears & New Carpeting...

Been cooking and baking for a few days. It's taking longer than usual because it's absolutely glorious outside and when I glance out the wide kitchen windows I see blue skies, green grass, birds at the feeders and the dogs laying on their backs airing out their undies. I have to watch and right in the middle of kneading some dough or mixing a batter, I stop what I'm doing and enjoy the scene.

Sometimes - if His Holiness isn't in sight - I leave everything on the countertops and go out onto the deck.

"SAR!"

Sometimes he catches me.

It's still a bit cool out in the morning and I have difficulty sniffling quietly. I'm certain it's allergies and nothing else.

I'm making a honey baked ham for Easter dinner with all the trimmings. I've already made enough peach cobbler to feed an army (if you'll excuse the expression) and just in case the giant squid refuses to share the cobbler, I baked a cheesecake and two pineapple upsidedown cakes and they're in the fridge and only need to be warmed up if we need them. When I make cobbler, I really make cobbler. None of this wimpy baking dishes with dough on the bottom, filling in the middle and strips of dough on top. I make individual cobblers that look like small pumpkins and when you put your spoon into the crust, oooo delicious peach stuff inside. I make sure Cowboy has eaten about half of one before I subtly mention the Visa bill or the new carpeting I ordered for our bedroom.

(When you get an up-close-and-personal look at it as often as I do... it's gets old fast.)

Passover comes first and I've already got a few things ready for that dinner. We're having 20 guests and I don't want to have to rush. The traditional Passover dinner includes FOUR glasses of wine! I'm pretty sure I'll be lucky to get away with 4 sips. I'm not much of a drinker and there's so many special dishes to enjoy I don't want to pass out before I eat everything. There's a special matzoh (unleavened bread) that gets hidden at the beginning of the meal. Whoever finds it gets a reward and it has to be found for the meal to end.

I find it every year and the reason for this is that I'm the one who hides it.

Allegedly the person sitting at the head of the table pays the reward. Ha! I make EVERYONE pay. Cowboy says that's not the way it's supposed to be. Excuse me! My house, my table, my food, my cooking, my rules. Pay up! I accept all kinds of chocolate and if you're foolish enough not to bring me a bribe before you arrive, please remember I will hunt you down to get you to make good on the I.O.U. When it comes to chocolate, I take no prisoners and I prefer imported...

"SAR!"

Tsk.

So... back to Easter.

It's chocolate bunny and jellybean time.

~sigh~

Does it get any better than this?

One year, Cowboy brought this HUGE Easter basket home before Easter. It had a humonguous chocolate bunny in it and naturally, I assumed it was for me. So I ate the ears and I didn't want the animals to nose it so I put the cellophane back around the entire basket.

"SAR!"

Jeez. I bet they heard him all the way to Peoria.

"You ate the ears off the chocolate bunny?" This bit of rhetoric was asked in the form of a roar.

"Gosh, honey. Ya think?"

SWAT!

Tsk.

His Holiness, indignantly: "I bought that for the children's Easter party at the base."

Me, matter-of-factly: "Looks like you'll have to buy another one."

SWAT!

Tsk.

He brought a chocolate bunny into MY house and expected me to ignore it? Folks... everyone has occasional bouts of stupid-itis, even Admirals.

So... since the basket was now all mine - possession is 9/10ths of the law, etc., I decided to stash the rest of the bunny away and eat it at my leisure when the giant squid's glare was aimed elsewhere.

I'm on my hands and knees in the upstairs hall closet rearranging things so I can put the basket behind stuff and the basket tips over and... VOILA! There are jellybeans under the basket grass!

Oh joy!

Black jellybeans are my favorite and I needed to eat all those, so I did. My next favorite are the sweet white ones, ate those, too. The rest can wait for a while. Orange and yellow and purple and dark green and pink. All good but then I discovered light green ones - apple green... swoon Was really enjoying my sugar high when I happened to glance up and would you believe it! The giant squid is leaning against the closet door and watching me!

His Holiness is 6 feet, 5 inches tall and weighs 235 lbs. I don't know how many stone that is but I bet it's a HUGE boulder. When I'm standing next to him, he's tall. When I'm sitting on the floor and he's standing, he's Paul Bunyan! When I'm sitting on the floor and eating something he doesn't want me to eat... and he's standing... he's a giant paddle!

Oy.

Doomed.

SWAT!

Tsk.

Years later, I still eat the ears off of any chocolate bunny that makes it to my house. I still eat all the black and white jellybeans and ever since that children's Easter party at the navy base... where a lot of the children's chocolate bunnies were missing ears... I haven't been invited back.

Tsk.

"I don't want you eating all that chocolate this year," he told me the other day.

"Uh huh."

"I mean it, Sar."

"I hear you."

So... I only ate the ears and was it my fault the basket he brought home had six bunnies in it?

It's a good thing I ordered that new carpet. I have a feeling I'm going to get a really close look at it any day now.

Tsk.

~Sar~

The Real Facts

About that jury summons...

There is no way on God's green earth I'm going to be awake before the sun comes up. If it's dark out - it's nighttime. If it's nighttime - I'm asleep. I don't know why I set the alarm clock. I'm not even sure why we have one - the giant squid has an internal clock. He'll wake me up.

So I'm pretty sure dawn happened. Don't remember anything else until His Holiness shoves a cup of coffee into my hands and waves a hot cinnamon bun under my nose. We're parked in a public garage somewhere - I have clothes on instead of jammies and there's a hot cinnamon bun in front of my mouth.

Time to wake up.

I don't ask questions as to how, when, where and why because I don't want to hear the answers and there's a chance the man will start to lecture. I abhor lectures and don't see any reason to listen to them so whenever he gets wound up, I write stories in my head and mumble "uh-huh" at regular intervals.

I'm at the justice building and have to go through security. Put my shoulder bag in the x-ray machine and hope it doesn't zap gamma rays all over my Twinkies. I brought Butterfingers and Heath bars - really don't want gamma rays all over my chocolate. I also brought a paperback novel to read and covered it with a very explicit book cover - pages from the Kama Sutra. That should keep all the old ladies away from me.

A judge comes out to give us the patriotic speech about serving on a jury and he tells judge jokes. He was awful. He tried so hard to be funny and I felt bad for him so when he finally stopped talking, I offered him a Twinkie which he took and ate and I thought... I wonder what he eats when he sits on the bench.

People from all walks of life are called for jury duty. Most of them look like you and me. A few dress like they got their clothes from the "reject" bin at the Salvation Army. Some have definitely not bathed in a while and a heck of a lot of people were very interested in my Twinkies. I stood near the door in case I needed to make a fast getaway.

People watching is a favorite pastime. I like details and I made notes about what I saw - how folks looked, dressed, moved. Good research for my stories. Picking one's nose in public is absolutely gross. Scratching one's privates is disconcerting and really laughable. Do these people think no one sees them? This is better than MTV. One very large lady was dressed in red. Red dress, red sweater, red shoes, red scarf around her neck, red band on her wristwatch and red handbag. Her hair was red, too, but it was orange red and clashed with her red outfit. She looked like one of those "when I'm an old lady, I shall wear a purple dress and a red hat." When she saw what I was reading - Kama Sutra - she asked if I had read the story of "O." I'm still chuckling over that.

A bunch of us were asked to fill out a form about how we felt about sexual assault. There were a few yes/no questions and a few "fill in what you think" spots. I wrote what I thought. If guilty, hand him a paper bag to carry his dangly bits in and when do we break for lunch? If I'm hungry I won't be able to concentrate.

Called Cowboy to pick me up and we went out for a nice meal. It was Greek cuisine. Delish! I ate all the good parts and slept on the way home. Cowboy said I should go to bed early because I had to go back to the courthouse so I cut the evening short and tried to sleep. That didn't work. Got up and made a banana split and darned if the big guy didn't want some. He helped himself! Then I got a swat for getting out of bed! A swat!

Tsk!

Fell asleep around 2 a.m. and woke up in the same place we were yesterday. I wonder how he does that. I was dressed all proper and even had shoes on. As soon as I arrived, the lady in red was still in red and asked me for a Twinkie.

Tsk.

I heard a few horror stories about being selected for a jury and because all the cases were criminal, some had been sequestered. That sounds horrible! Who would keep me in Twinkies? If I suffered withdrawal I'd hang the defendant just to get a sugar high. Cowboy said it was a good thing they didn't choose me. As it turns out, the case ended with a plea bargain - whatever that means - and we were dismissed early. I'm not sure if I'm thrilled about that or disappointed I wasn't selected. I'm sure I could have added something memorable to the proceedings.

Double tsk.

I read in the New York Times that this is "Asia" Week. Oh joy! That means Chinese takeout! And Thai food and Pho at the Vietnamese restaurant where "Phuck" is on the menu. I forget what that means in Vietnamese but I have to order it just to say it. And more Chinese and tempura at the Japanese restaurant. We also have a Korean restaurant. No idea what they serve but we'll have to try it.

Cowboy said we'd order Chinese takeout one night and that was that. Hmm... Slipped into this wonderful kimono he brought me from Japan and I think we'll be having more than one takeout meal sent home this week.

I read what he posted. He likes to sound like a big bad meanie but between you and me, he's putty in my hands. I can get him to do anything.

SWAT!

Tsk.

Did you know that Passover and Easter are in the same week this year? Oh joy! Two huge holiday meals - going to cook and bake for both of them. I really love holiday meals - don't care whose holiday it is - there's bound to be something I'm going to love. I usually make a cheesecake for Easter dinner dessert along with a pineapple upside down cake. I told His Holiness this year I would make peach cobbler instead...

He said he didn't want to wear me out before I made those meals so maybe we *will* celebrate Asia week with Chinese takeout more than once or twice.

Grin!

See! Told you!

SWAT!

Double tsk!

~Sar~

The Facts

A couple days ago Sar had to appear for her jury summons. To get to the justice center in time, she had to be up by 0500 hours. My wife is not a morning person.

She set the alarm but from past experience I know it will wake her, she will turn it off and go right back to sleep. I'm generally up by 0515 hours so I woke her when I got up.

Wild horses--

Took her into the shower with me. Let me just say that Sar is probably the only person on the planet who can stand under a hard shower spray and fall back to sleep. If she wasn't leaning on me she probably would have slipped to the floor and curled up and slept despite the water beating down.

Got her dried off and dressed presentably. She slept through the whole thing.

She had planned to drive down to the justice center but even after forcing a bit of coffee down her throat, she was still in dreamland. Made arrangements to take care of some matters in downtown Seattle which is about halfway between our home and where she had to be. Tucked her into the car and drove her down there myself. Two hours later we pull up in front of the justice center and Sar wakes up. I get some coffee and muffins into her and park the car and am gratified that she can walk into the building under her own steam.

I ask her if she's awake. She says of course she is and why would I ask. I know better than to tell her. I roll my eyes. Sar says I need a couth boost.

I watch her go through security and tell her to have a good day and to call me when she's dismissed for the day. I don't think she heard me. She was already unwrapping a Twinkie as she got in the elevator to go to her assigned room.

She calls me in the middle of the day to say that a judge gave the jury orientation and he told a lot of jokes. Sar said he needs to keep his day job - none were funny and no one laughed. She offered him a Twinkie when he finished speaking and he took it. This does not bode well for the justice system.

She was selected with a pool of 50 others to fill out a questionnaire. A panel of 12 will be chosen from that pool. The case was sexual misconduct and Sar wanted to know what kind of sexual misconduct. She said she asked if it was rape, attempted rape, something else? I told her I hoped she didn't ask if it was kinky sex like spanking. Her immediate reply was we're kinky? Cool!

I pick her up an hour or so later. The attorneys have to go over the questionnaire and she's dismissed until the next day. She's already eaten an entire box of Twinkies, a couple of candy bars and now she's ready for lunch. It's a little late for lunch but there's a small Greek restaurant in the area I've been meaning to try and they're open all day so we go there.

Did I ever mention my wife weighs a bit over 100 lbs? That's about 7 stone. I don't know where she puts all that food but trust me when I say if you're eating at our table you better help yourself before she consumes all the good stuff.

We get the mixed Greek platter so we can sample everything and as soon as Sar tastes something she really likes, she tries to take my portion after she eats hers. I give up trying to keep some for myself but I let the waitress know to start packing an order to take home. Eventually, I'm going to get to eat more than Greek salad.

Greek salad. Sar eats the feta cheese and some lettuce with pita bread and dumps the rest of it onto my plate. I tell her I'm gonna spank her when we get home. She rolls her eyes and I laugh. I love to watch her eat. A woman with that kind of appetite has an appetite for more intimate things and I am a very lucky man.

Dessert is Greek cookies and Baklava and a special kind of rice pudding. Sar orders all of it and when she can't eat another bite, I pay the fairly large check. She sleeps all the way home.

The next day is a repeat. I get up at 0500 hours, get her dressed and while she sleeps, I drive her down to the justice center. She calls me about an hour later. The case was dismissed and her civic duty is complete. I can't pick her up for at least an hour and she says that's ok, she's gonna check out the shops across from the justice center. I don't have to ask where she'll be. If there's a food establishment in the shopping district, that's where I'll find her.

I find her in the bakery-coffee shop drinking a latte and sharing a table with an elderly man wearing a baker's apron. They're swapping recipes and both of them seem to be having a good time. Sar is taking bites out of a big array of pastries and commenting. The old guy is beaming. Good thing I'm already married to this gal or she might run away with this man.

I'm not disappointed she wasn't chosen for the jury panel. When attorneys ask prospective jurors particular questions, I think most answer honestly and with courtesy. Sar would be honest in her answers but she speaks from her gut. "Cut off his balls!" is not an acceptable answer to what to do with someone found guilty of sexual misconduct.

The justice system has no idea they just dodged a bullet.

Cowboy

Maintenance

No, no, not maintenance spankings. How crass!

If you've been trying to get to my story website and/or drool over the pics of my beautiful babies... the links aren't currently working. The reason is that 50.megs - my host server is down for maintenance. If they're not back up tomorrow, I shall investigate the problem and drop you another note.

Worn out from my first day of jury duty - nothing earth shattering going on there and I hope it stays that way.

Thanks for the notes.

~Sar~

Mr. Grumpy!

It's Spring! We're having "Perry Como" skies ("The bluest skies you'll ever see are in Seattle.") The sun is shining, the air is crisp and the temps are in the low 50's F. Crocus is coming up and so are the daffodils and I can see the first green leaves of the tulips popping up everywhere! Woody Woodpecker (red headed bird from the cartoons) has already visited my suet stand and pierced the cat with his steely glare. The cat stared back. Woody visits every year with his mate and their new baby. There's a new saltlick on the side of the house for all the Bambis about to be born and visiting and I'm eager to be in the backyard doing things and enjoying the great outdoors.

"Grass is wet, bambina. Stay inside today."

Jeez! What a spoil sport.

"Too chilly for you to be working in the yard today. I don't want you to get a sore throat."

Oh for cryin out loud!

"The robins are yanking worms out of the ground. If it's not too cold for those little critters, it's not too cold for me!" So there!

"I know a spot that's gonna get warmed real fast if you defy me."

"Defy you! Who died and made you king of the world?"

SWAT!

Tsk.

When I get the sniffles or God forbid, cough once or twice, the squid goes into commando mode. He morphs into Dr. GooglePuss - so named because he earned his medical degree on Google. He rolls his eyes when I call him Dr. GooglePuss because he says he learned a lot of medical stuff when he was training to be a Seal. Yeah, yeah, and I'm queen of Finland.

Not sure if Finland has a queen but nevertheless...

If I come down with a fever, all hell breaks loose. I get aspirin, cough medicine, and hot tea with honey - all forced down my throat and against my will. I threaten his need for a food taster and he threatens to turn my butt into combustible heat.

I check my forehead - feels okay to me.

He checks my forehead... "You feel a little warm, bambina. Stay inside today."

"Listen up, Squid!"

SWAT!

Tsk.

"I was thinking of making peach cobbler later," I inform the giant squid.

"Make it now. Then you won't have time to think about being out in the yard."

"Nope. Need to be outdoors and then when I come back in, I'll be energized to make the cobbler."

"Any second now I'm gonna be energized to warm your butt."

Tsk. The man has a one-track mind.

"Okay. I'll make cobbler and while you're away today, I'll eat the whole thing by myself."

SWAT!

Tsk.

"Hot cobbler with cold vanilla ice cream... all for me!"

SWAT!

Tsk.

"I need that cobbler, bambina."

"I need to be outdoors for a while."

Do you know that look? The one where Genghis Khan lifts his arm to throw the killing spear? He's on his giant steed and his Fu Manchu mustache twitches with delight and his eyebrows arch and his eyes go all steely and he yells the battle cry.

Oy!

So now I'm looking at the floor from an upside down position and the caveman I live with - a throwback to Neanderthals and maybe pro-magnum creatures - certainly not anything Homo-erectus - is chuckling as he gives me a really hard swat.

"I'll never make peach cobbler again," I yell.

"You'll never sit comfortably in this lifetime if you don't make that peach cobbler."

"Piss-ant!"

SWAT!

"I won't climb any trees, just want to be outside for a while."

"You can fill the bird feeders and then come right back in. Are we clear on this?"

Are we clear? Jeez. I'm upside down; of course we're clear. But wait till I'm back on my feet again.

"Uh-huh."

"Don't make me chase you, bambina."

Oh why not? You might slip or trip and I'd be hard pressed not to laugh.

SWAT!

Tsk. How did he know what I was thinking?

So I went outside and filled the bird feeders and lingered until he made "red hot" threats and when he saw me begin to make the cobbler, he kissed me goodbye and took off for the navy base. From now on, if I get sick I'm not calling him Dr. GooglePuss anymore. Meet the giant squid... also known as Mr. Grumpy.

~Sar~

P.S. The cobbler was ready about an hour later and the pups and I ate it for lunch.

Don't mess with me when I'm queen of Finland.

Updating

Never thought I'd be one to blog but Sar's been a bit busy lately and when she started this thing she gave me the url for posting along with her password so I could - in her words - feel free to ramble during my *senior moments.* Oh yeah, gave her a swat for that.

Whenever I am away for a few days the imp reverts to the habits of her life before me. She eats junk and sleeps when her eyes close and lives life in double time. We've been married for a lot of years and she still has that zest for living every day to the fullest that she had when we first met. Translation: doing whatever pleases her. I spend a lot of time slowing her down a bit so she'll have the energy to enjoy another day. About the only way to do that is to keep an arm around her which isn't a bad way to spend a few hours.

So the other night there was a full moon and the imp wants to dance naked in the backyard. This is a monthly event but one I object to in the winter months. The first time I laid eyes on her she was dancing at a benefit for military veterans. It was in DC and I took one look and knew I needed to know more. On that particular occasion she had clothes on. It wasn't until we got a fenced yard that she started dancing without any clothes on. Have to say I didn't object. In the beginning we lived in a wooded area in Virginia. Had a lot of trees and the closest neighbors were a bit away from us. Sat on the back steps and watched this wood nymph dance. It was a beautiful sight. It's still a beautiful sight but I don't want her catching pneumonia.

Sar wears leg warmers when she dances and if it's cold out she adds a wool scarf. Last night after I told her earlier it was too cold for her to be out there dancing, I noticed she added mittens and a wool cap. Naked lady with leg warmers, scarf, mittens and cap. I'm telling you folks this woman could teach Special Forces how to evade the enemy. I put noisemakers on all the doorknobs that lead to the backyard so I know if they are opened - cowbells, mobiles, anything that rings or clacks together - and she still got out the door without my hearing her. On top of that her Rott and Mastiff got out with her without making a sound.

I realize it's too quiet in the house and walk out to the back deck and there she is - dancing like it's 80 degrees - her dogs sitting in the middle of the yard watching her. I take off after her. The dogs get in my way. I order them to sit. They don't listen to me. I consider that insubordination and yell at them. I'm not gonna swear to this but the sounds they made might have been dog laughter.

I chase after her. Her scarf gets caught on one of the evergreens and I get a grip on her arm. That's the end of the dance. I haul her over my shoulder, deliver a couple of good hot swats and pull my sweater off and cover her up. The whole time she is protesting and laughing and wiggling and - ok, she's sexy as hell and all I can think of is getting her in the house and warming that butt and lovin her.

I do all that and have to leave the house early in the morning. Come home about mid morning and Sar is on the back deck with 4 dogs and 2 cats and 2 boxes of twinkies - about 40 twinkies - and an empty gallon of milk. The boxes are empty. Sar is asleep. Her Mastiff is snoring. The 3 Rotts are glass eyed and the 2 cats are doing what cats do - licking their fur. Sugar high. At least she was wearing enough warm clothes. I pick her up to take her in the house - she's waking up and giving me that drunk look she gets when she doesn't remember how she got where she is. I think this is how women achieve an innocent look when you ask them something they don't want to answer. It's a memory thing. I tell her she ate too many twinkies. Sar says there's no such thing as too many. She says the same thing about chocolate. I'm thinking a spanking is about to happen. The rest is none of your business.

Cowboy

I'm Home!

And the imp is in high gear. After the initial hello and missed you and sweet stuff she went straight into "Sar" mode. She probably was already living in the fast lane while I was away and just paused long enough for a reunion. "Sar" mode means she ate junk food the entire time I was away, slept little and jogged far more miles than she should. And if she was feeling those endorphins, she probably "ran" more than she jogged. Running is not good for her. She has weak lungs. Jogging is ok if paced and if she doesn't overdo.

I asked her about that. Naturally she denied any knowledge of running or jogging or anything else. I gave her a couple of swats just for good measure. She called me an anal retentive baboon butthead. That's a compliment - better than a piss-ant which is an annoying creature.

I wanted to know exactly how much rest she got. Sar has bouts of insomnia and if I'm not home to keep her in bed she'll get up and work in her studio all night. Instead of answering my questions she jumped me, hugged me tight, kissed me - very sweet kisses - and did naughty things. She fights dirty and she plays dirty. I'm married to an imp and a seductress and about the time I'm ready to upend her and light a fire where it will do the most good, she's goes and does something that has my heart racing and my hands eager to do other things.

We had some unexpected company for a few days. They just left and the whole time they were here I had the greatest urge to warm the imp's butt. She teased me, touching me on the sly in places she shouldn't touch unless we can follow through. She flashed me when no one was looking - no undies. And when she served a meal she made sure she leaned her soft breasts on my shoulder as she set a plate in front of me. I was ready to grab her and ignore our guests and just have done with it. At night when we were alone in our bedroom, I was painfully aware that our guests were down the hall in the guestroom. I'm not an exhibitionist so while I made "quiet" love to my wife, I could hardly spank her. I made a lot of threats and the imp laughed.

As soon as I post this I'm going out to the backyard, gonna climb that tree she's hiding in, haul her down and over my lap and spank that cute little butt of hers. Yeah, good stuff follows.

Cowboy

Cowboy's Away...

His Holiness is away for a few days. When he left, he admonished me to "behave."

Tsk.

As if I needed reminding. I'm so good it's downright disgusting. On the up side, there isn't a veggie in sight and the pups and I are eating real food - burgers and onion rings and milkshakes and mac and cheese and Twinkies and plenty of chocolate for me, plenty of beer and wine for the pups. The other night, we all got high on our intake of choice and almost passed out on the back deck.

Naturally, that's when the giant squid called to say hello, what are you doing and how come I'm not gonna be happy with the answer.

I don't tolerate obscene or rude phone calls so I hung up on him.

Did you hear him yell? My name, when spoken in a normal conversational tone rhymes with "star" or "far." When spoken softly - as it generally is during loving is more a whisper of desire. However, when roared at an unbelievable volume over the phone lines... sounds more like When I get home, I'm gonna burn your butt!

Double tsk.

This might be a good time for the pups and I to head south. We haven't been down to Oregon in a while and the beach there, in winter, is magnificent - high bluffs, huge winds, nice cozy cabins, and lots of little cafés and shops.

Meanwhile...

I got a jury summons. I don't have to appear until the end of the month and I don't mind doing my patriotic good citizen duty and serving. I live in an unincorporated area so the courthouse is a 2-hour drive away. Commuting 4 hours a day doesn't do a lot for my disposition and I'd be happy to take a motel room just to avoid the traffic but it's in an area I'm unfamiliar with and that makes me a little uncomfortable. So, I'll drive back and forth each day I'm required to be there.

I was summoned to superior court. I have no idea what superior court is - makes one think there must be an "inferior" one below that. Tsk.

I was called for jury duty when we lived in Florida. We lived in the outskirts of Dade County - that's Miami - and that courthouse is on the edge of downtown Miami where parking your car and leaving it for more than 30 seconds insures that all or parts of it will be missing before you can blink an eye.

They herded us into a courtroom after some administrative stuff and the "congratulations! You get to do your civic duty" speech. One by one, an attorney asked us questions. The accused was on trial because while intoxicated, he ran his car over another person who had the gall to die. So the attorney says "do you believe in the death penalty?"

"Hell yes!" I shouted. "Hang the bastard!"

I was dismissed.

I wonder if they would have kept me on if I said, "fry him" instead? Florida has the electric chair, Ol Sparky, I think they call it.

I went back to the common room and read my self-help book, Winning Through Intimidation.

The next case I was interviewed for was rape. They dressed up the accused in really nice clothes and the victim in a pinafore-type dress. It was like watching a really awful "B" movie. If the attorney looked anything like David Niven, I'd have managed to stay alert. The attorney says "if found guilty, what kind of sentence would you consider?"

"Cut off his dangly bits!"

I was dismissed.

Tsk. I really wanted to say cut off his balls but I'm a lady.

Not long after that, the judge in the rape case showed up at the same social function His Holiness and I were attending. When the man saw me, his hand went straight to his crotch! Tsk! Such ungentlemanly behavior.

In a few weeks, I'll let you know how this jury summons went. I did "google" the area around the courthouse and there's a Dairy Queen there. I wonder if one can eat during a trial? I'm bringing plenty of chocolate just in case.

The foster pups are doing great. Oliver, the Mastiff has filled out quite a bit; he likes my beef stew and liver biscuits and he's learned not to sit on me. That's a huge plus since he's the size of a pony.

The Scottish Deerhound - Murdock - is a disgrace to his breed. Bambi and his mom visit the saltlick on the side of the yard regularly. Murdock wants to play with Bambi. It's possible the dog embraces all species but I think he might be a wee bit mentally challenged.

Tuma, the Alaskan Malamute, tries my patience to the limit. He's a prankster and though he's learning to follow both voice and hand signals, he goes deaf and dumb on me whenever the mood strikes. Two nights in a row of kibble cures him for a few days. I may have to sic DomTom, my alpha cat, on him.

Then, there's Archie, the bloodhound. The old fella thinks he's at a spa and lives to be waited on and adored. Both cats adore him. I think the attraction is his ears but whatever it is, both groom him regularly. I reminded him that his nose is vitally important and should be used in a worthwhile manner. He goosed the squid - I considered that very worthwhile.

I think I've mentioned that D.H. Lawrence's lover, Lady Chatterly, lives down the street from me. Her "daddy" is flying in this weekend and she wanted to show me some of her new gladrags. I was happy to see her model them - v-e-r-y sexy stuff. I'm sure her daddy will be thrilled. The male neighbors on either side of her house also got a show; their wives were not so thrilled. Since she moved into the neighborhood, more people own binoculars than ever before.

There's a full moon on the 14th. Traditionally, I dance nude in the backyard to welcome the full moon and especially to celebrate the rites of Spring. I have a very high wooden fence though that doesn't stop my 97-year old neighbor from watching me from his 2nd story window. He has a telescope. Cowboy says Spring doesn't happen till April but I like to practice. With any luck he'll be out of town that night. Otherwise, the dance will be short and/or I'll get warmed up faster than I like when his hand connects with my dancing butt. The man just doesn't appreciate the fine art of dancing. And it's not like I'm completely nude; I wear leg warmers and a long woolen scarf.

~Sar~