At a site I frequent there was a post on the discussion board that listed the many reasons some folks don't like to do the grocery shopping. There were all sorts of reasons, carts with lopsided wheels, children that race down the aisles, shoppers that leave their carts in the middle of the aisle, items on a high shelf that few people can reach, and so on.
There were some rough spots in my life growing up and I've learned that when life gives you lemons, try to make lemonade. It's less frustrating and granted, it doesn't always work but it's definitely worth a try.
I love grocery shopping. I ignore the obstacles and focus on the goal - FOOD. I like to consider grocery shopping an eating event. Eating my way across the store is a wondrous thing to do. In addition to the snacks, there are the fresh bakery items, the deli, the ready-made dishes, and in the aisles that carry ethnic foods, the opportunity to browse through new food items. When Cowboy goes with me - which isn't often - he pushes a cart and pulls one behind him and I carry one of those small baskets to hold all the wrappers of stuff I ate while shopping so we pay for them. Over the years, the giant squid has learned not to grumble too loudly because he knows I'm going to eat while we're there regardless of what he says. Store clerks are used to me; they don't make snide remarks when they ring up the empty wrappers and containers. I'm so busy eating I don't notice the obstacles... lemonade.
You know how traffic can be a sudden nightmare... an accident or bad weather turns drivers into monsters. If I have to sit in traffic or slow down to 2 miles per hour, I pop a "talking book" into the player and keep myself entertained. If the pups are with me, I like to sing... I CAN'T sing. But the gawd-awful noise that comes out of my mouth makes the dogs howl. This is hilarious all by itself but combined with the ugly sounds I'm making, it's an audible event that defies description. People around us look aghast and some even laugh or join in. Yeah, I'm a little nutso sometimes but what the heck. It's better than grumbling about traffic... lemonade.
I even like doing the laundry... It's an opportunity to be creative. I'm fond of testing new dyes for my textile art... the giant squid has an abundance of dyed boxer shorts... I won't repeat the words he uses when he discovers he's out of white ones... very funny lemonade.
"Where are my white boxers?"
"You don't have any."
"I'm in summer whites! These @#$% red ones will show through my uniform!"
"You'll start a new fashion trend."
"SARRRRRR!"
"What?"
SWAT!
Tsk
Moving along...
Hadrian, the Neo Mastiff has been officially adopted. He goes to his new "forever" home this weekend. He's passed his obedience trials, actually behaves most of the time and frankly, I'm going to miss him like crazy. The pony-size pup is a real clown and a cuddle bear and his new family is wild about him. There's a mom and dad and 4 kids. The twin boys are 5 years old and the twin girls are 3. Yep, invitro can work wonders. When the giant pup spotted the kids, he knew right away they were "his." They crawled all over him and he basked in their attention and rewarded them properly - slobber all over their faces. All were very happy. Of course, this made me happy, too.
Miss Emmy, one of our cats, has pneumonia. Cowboy woke me very early the other day when he heard her coughing. At first, we thought she was trying to hurl a hairball but she was all clammy and her eyes a little glazed. Got her to the vet in record time. She got a shot and some antibiotics and now, 48 hours later, is doing much better. The giant wuss I married...
SWAT!
Tsk
...can't seem to get a pill down the 10-lb. cat's throat...
Amazing. He seems perfectly capable of shoving horse pills down mine!
I have a sure-fire method of getting pills down a cat's throat. I pinch her nose which makes her mouth open. Shove the pill down her throat, then clamp her mouth shut and give a quick yank (not too hard) to her tail and that startles her and she swallows fast. Always works.
Cowboy says a large and heavy and threatening hand on MY tail does the same thing... DOUBLE TSK.
DomTom, on the other hand, just eats anything I give him so a crushed pill in his food always works. Cowboy says it's because the cat is male... he knows he needs the medicine.
Uh huh.
We have an anniversary next month. It's a biggie and the giant Neanderthal is surprising me with a trip to a romantic spot. All he told me is that it is in the South Pacific. The South Pacific is a LARGE area so no telling where we're going. He said he'd give me 24-hour notice and to pack clothing for a warm climate and to include a bathing suit. He'd buy whatever else I might need when we get to wherever else is.
This is very exciting. We should be away 3-5 weeks and hopefully, there will be no national emergencies that will recall him to home base. I don't know if I'll have Internet access; Cowboy will have his laptop which hooks to satellite but I don't know if I'll be able to use it while we're away. We're not leaving for another week or so; I might get a chance to touch base with you before then. I'm close to finishing a story and have asked a friend to post it to my web site. I've already composed an "announcement" for those of you on the list.
Speaking of the "announce list." A few of you have asked if you can be added to it. All of you can do that. Go to my web site - link on the right at the top of this page. Scroll to the bottom of the page where you will see a "yahoo invitation" box. Put your email addy in that box and it will take you to yahoo groups where you can sign onto the announce list. The group only receives mail from me when I post a new story. If that sounds too confusing for you, email me and tell me you want to be on the list and I'll send you an invitation to join.
Bull is still with us and will remain at the house while we're away. We have a regular house/pet sitter who will come by a few times to make sure all is well but Bull will take care of the pets - feeding, exercising, etc. I've filled a freezer with food for him - regular meals and lots of baked goods. I also put a padlock on it so he doesn't eat everything before we go away.
Putting in long hours to get some things done before we leave. Feeding lots of peachy things to the giant squid who will suffer peach withdrawal while we're away. I told him he'll have me 24/7 to fill him up. As usual... I have to remind myself I'm a lady and not repeat the embarrassing things he said when I told him that.
~Sar~
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Skinny Dipping
We've had unreasonably hot weather, not something we usually get out here in the Pacific Northwest. We get about a week or two of high 80s and rarely more than 2-3 days at a time in July and August. So far this year, we've had more than our share of the hot sticky stuff and it's hit the mid and high 90s enough times that I've given serious thought to flying to northern Alaska.
Houses are not air conditioned in Western Washington and yes, I have fans going at high speed in most of the rooms. The dogs go dumb this time of year - keeping their fur coats on in this heat... I brought all of them into the house and needless to say, they're hogging the fans. Both cats are snoozing on top of the freezer in the garage.
I told the giant squid if he didn't get A/C for the house I was going to trek to northern climes.
"It's only a few days a year, bambina."
"I can't take the heat!" I said a little louder than I normally speak.
"You think this is hot?" he grumbled. "Wait till you feel how hot it's gonna get on your tush!" This was said in a not-so-nice tone of voice.
"Bully!"
SWAT!
"I'm leaving and spending the next few days in an air conditioned hotel. You can order takeout for you and the pups."
SWAT!
"You're staying," he said with great confidence. "And tonight, we'll go skinny dipping. Sound good?"
Ohhhhhhh skinny dipping. Our neighbor is out of town and told us to use their pool whenever we wanted to. Very few pools out this way. We had one in Miami when we lived there and used it most of the year. Hmmm... no neighbors, beautiful pool, hot night, skinny dipping. Okey dokey, I can do that.
So... that evening - late - we walked over to the neighbor's house. The house is surrounded by tall evergreens and it's very dark so we turned on one outside patio light so we could see where we were. Stripped and jumped into the pool.
Splashing, swimming, teasing, the band is cued to play... and just when things were getting v-e-r-y yummy, a humonguously bright light is turned on and directed at us. I scurried behind the giant squid. A voice says very calmly...
"Is that you, Admiral?"
Apparently, the neighbor on the other side heard us and thought a couple of teenagers were trespassing on the property and called the police.
Honestly...
"Good evening, Officer," Cowboy says just as calmly, treading water as if he was used to being scrutinized in his birthday suit.
Total frontal nudity! Accckkkkk!
Not wanting to be left out of the fun...
I'm still hiding my naked self behind Cowboy but I yell - "Oh Officer, this big mean man ripped my clothes off!
He tossed me into the pool!
He means to have his way with me!"
Cowboy snorts.
Tsk.
The officer laughs and says "I bet he does." And then he says "Have fun, kids," and takes off!
Tsk! That's the thanks I get for baking goodies for the local policeman's charity event?
"Bambina..." the giant squid says and gives me "that look."
"He called you a kid," I yell and start to swim away. "And he saw you naked. Egads!"
"Just as long as he didn't see YOU naked," Cowboy says and dives under water where he got very fresh and used his Sealy swimming abilities to get me just high enough above the water to deliver a couple of swats.
Then he got even fresher and wouldn't you know it? The band finally played on.
~Sar~
Houses are not air conditioned in Western Washington and yes, I have fans going at high speed in most of the rooms. The dogs go dumb this time of year - keeping their fur coats on in this heat... I brought all of them into the house and needless to say, they're hogging the fans. Both cats are snoozing on top of the freezer in the garage.
I told the giant squid if he didn't get A/C for the house I was going to trek to northern climes.
"It's only a few days a year, bambina."
"I can't take the heat!" I said a little louder than I normally speak.
"You think this is hot?" he grumbled. "Wait till you feel how hot it's gonna get on your tush!" This was said in a not-so-nice tone of voice.
"Bully!"
SWAT!
"I'm leaving and spending the next few days in an air conditioned hotel. You can order takeout for you and the pups."
SWAT!
"You're staying," he said with great confidence. "And tonight, we'll go skinny dipping. Sound good?"
Ohhhhhhh skinny dipping. Our neighbor is out of town and told us to use their pool whenever we wanted to. Very few pools out this way. We had one in Miami when we lived there and used it most of the year. Hmmm... no neighbors, beautiful pool, hot night, skinny dipping. Okey dokey, I can do that.
So... that evening - late - we walked over to the neighbor's house. The house is surrounded by tall evergreens and it's very dark so we turned on one outside patio light so we could see where we were. Stripped and jumped into the pool.
Splashing, swimming, teasing, the band is cued to play... and just when things were getting v-e-r-y yummy, a humonguously bright light is turned on and directed at us. I scurried behind the giant squid. A voice says very calmly...
"Is that you, Admiral?"
Apparently, the neighbor on the other side heard us and thought a couple of teenagers were trespassing on the property and called the police.
Honestly...
"Good evening, Officer," Cowboy says just as calmly, treading water as if he was used to being scrutinized in his birthday suit.
Total frontal nudity! Accckkkkk!
Not wanting to be left out of the fun...
I'm still hiding my naked self behind Cowboy but I yell - "Oh Officer, this big mean man ripped my clothes off!
He tossed me into the pool!
He means to have his way with me!"
Cowboy snorts.
Tsk.
The officer laughs and says "I bet he does." And then he says "Have fun, kids," and takes off!
Tsk! That's the thanks I get for baking goodies for the local policeman's charity event?
"Bambina..." the giant squid says and gives me "that look."
"He called you a kid," I yell and start to swim away. "And he saw you naked. Egads!"
"Just as long as he didn't see YOU naked," Cowboy says and dives under water where he got very fresh and used his Sealy swimming abilities to get me just high enough above the water to deliver a couple of swats.
Then he got even fresher and wouldn't you know it? The band finally played on.
~Sar~
Friday, July 13, 2007
Ponies!
We've got two ponies in the backyard! I'm beside myself with utter joy! Every year, when the giant squid asks me what I want for Christmas, I always say I want a pony. Tsk. I never get one.
The reason for the ponies is Patrick's birthday. The little tyke will be ten years old on Sunday and we're having a birthday party for him at our house. Lots of cake and ice cream and presents and pony rides for his guests.
I asked Bull to take care of the pony part and I'd take care of the food, etc. So, yesterday afternoon he went to a pony farm and instead of arranging to have the ponies here for Sunday afternoon, he hitched a pony trailer to his Hummer and brought them home! I was thrilled, of course, but was not expecting to house two ponies for the extra days and nights. The big lug got hay and oats and bunches of carrots and emptied all the apples out of my larder. Fortunately, he has experience with ponies; I only know how to ride them.
Cowboy was away when all this occurred - working a double shift at the base so he could take a few days off. I was asleep when he got home sometime after midnight but at oh-dark-thirty the Neanderthal woke me with a smack on my backside and a loud:
"What the hell are two horses doing in my backyard?"
HIS backyard? Tsk.
"We have two horses in the backyard?" I asked, playing the innocent card. I mean... it was oh-dark-thirty for crying out loud. I had been sleeping and rudely awakened by a large and heavy hand. NO COUTH!
"Sar..." this said in that soft scary voice that means I should be heading for the outer edge of the planet YESTERDAY!
"Ponies for Patrick's party," I yelled and jumped off the foot of the bed, hurled myself across the room and out the door. Tripped over SweetPea and BullyBoy who were sleeping on the other side of the door instead of in their beds on the landing and skidded on my belly down the hall and ended up on top of bare feet... I looked up and Bull looked down and picked me up and told me not to worry - he'd take the heat from Cowboy about the ponies being in the backyard 2 days early.
Oh yeah, sure, right. Like Cowboy's gonna spank the behemoth instead of me!
And... was so glad I happened to be wearing pj's instead of just one of the giant squid's t-shirts.
"I'm waiting for an explanation," Genghis Khan reincarnated demanded, leaning against the wall with his Popeye arms folded across his chest.
"You're from Texas," I said calmly despite my heart racing. "Ponies shouldn't upset you."
"Sar..."
"Oy. You must be getting old if two little ole ponies in the yard are upsetting."
"I think you'd better hush up before his next move," Bull whispered.
I thought so too and slid out of Bull's arms and moved behind the big guy.
"Don't let him hurt me," I mumbled, peeking from behind the huge barrier of his body.
"I'd never hurt you, bambina," the giant squid said, "but I'd spank you in a New York minute. Come here."
"I'm okay right here," I replied, hanging onto the back of Bull's T-shirt.
"Don't make me come get you."
Oy!
Bull jumped in with an explanation which thankfully, the giant squid understood. "So you're not mad at Sar, right?" the sweet but terribly naive man asked.
"Never mad at her," Cowboy said and before I knew it, I was no longer behind Bull but caught up in Genghis Khan's arms!
"No spanking cause of the ponies, right?" Bull persisted.
"Nope, the ponies are home free," Genghis agreed.
"Whew! Well I'm back to the sack," Bull said and went back to bed.
"And you're over my knee," the giant squid laughed and landed a smack right on my teeny tiny bottom.
"Heyyyyyy!" I complained.
"You should have called me to tell me what was going on," Cowboy said and delivered another smack.
"No peach cobbler!" I yelled.
"Is that so?" he said in that scary voice.
Oy.
"Going to tell Bull and Patrick you spanked me for NOTHING!"
"No, you're not," the president of Neanderthals R Us said.
"Since when do ponies in the backyard constitute putting my health or safety in jeopardy?"
"My health," the Neanderthal replied. "My mental health."
"Not fair!" I protested as I stared at the carpet. Hmmm, need to get these shampooed. "You're changing the rules. I'm not cooking till you apologize for spanking me."
I am indignant and feeling very put upon at the moment.
"Apologize? For giving you a well-deserved smack? Nope."
...And another smack made contact.
I took a deep breath, grabbed Cowboy's bare leg... and BIT HIM!
A very ugly stream of words followed. Not from me, from HIM. I'm an angel.
"Are you going to apologize?" I asked as he pulled me up and away from his leg.
"Gonna toast your tush, bambina."
"You'd be better off making whoopee instead," I assured him.
"You been reading Winning Through Intimidation again?"
I nodded.
"You win. I apologize. Now kiss me."
The band played on... Later, I made peach cobbler... and spent the day playing with the ponies.
Some days I am so good at this I can't stand it.
~Sar~
The reason for the ponies is Patrick's birthday. The little tyke will be ten years old on Sunday and we're having a birthday party for him at our house. Lots of cake and ice cream and presents and pony rides for his guests.
I asked Bull to take care of the pony part and I'd take care of the food, etc. So, yesterday afternoon he went to a pony farm and instead of arranging to have the ponies here for Sunday afternoon, he hitched a pony trailer to his Hummer and brought them home! I was thrilled, of course, but was not expecting to house two ponies for the extra days and nights. The big lug got hay and oats and bunches of carrots and emptied all the apples out of my larder. Fortunately, he has experience with ponies; I only know how to ride them.
Cowboy was away when all this occurred - working a double shift at the base so he could take a few days off. I was asleep when he got home sometime after midnight but at oh-dark-thirty the Neanderthal woke me with a smack on my backside and a loud:
"What the hell are two horses doing in my backyard?"
HIS backyard? Tsk.
"We have two horses in the backyard?" I asked, playing the innocent card. I mean... it was oh-dark-thirty for crying out loud. I had been sleeping and rudely awakened by a large and heavy hand. NO COUTH!
"Sar..." this said in that soft scary voice that means I should be heading for the outer edge of the planet YESTERDAY!
"Ponies for Patrick's party," I yelled and jumped off the foot of the bed, hurled myself across the room and out the door. Tripped over SweetPea and BullyBoy who were sleeping on the other side of the door instead of in their beds on the landing and skidded on my belly down the hall and ended up on top of bare feet... I looked up and Bull looked down and picked me up and told me not to worry - he'd take the heat from Cowboy about the ponies being in the backyard 2 days early.
Oh yeah, sure, right. Like Cowboy's gonna spank the behemoth instead of me!
And... was so glad I happened to be wearing pj's instead of just one of the giant squid's t-shirts.
"I'm waiting for an explanation," Genghis Khan reincarnated demanded, leaning against the wall with his Popeye arms folded across his chest.
"You're from Texas," I said calmly despite my heart racing. "Ponies shouldn't upset you."
"Sar..."
"Oy. You must be getting old if two little ole ponies in the yard are upsetting."
"I think you'd better hush up before his next move," Bull whispered.
I thought so too and slid out of Bull's arms and moved behind the big guy.
"Don't let him hurt me," I mumbled, peeking from behind the huge barrier of his body.
"I'd never hurt you, bambina," the giant squid said, "but I'd spank you in a New York minute. Come here."
"I'm okay right here," I replied, hanging onto the back of Bull's T-shirt.
"Don't make me come get you."
Oy!
Bull jumped in with an explanation which thankfully, the giant squid understood. "So you're not mad at Sar, right?" the sweet but terribly naive man asked.
"Never mad at her," Cowboy said and before I knew it, I was no longer behind Bull but caught up in Genghis Khan's arms!
"No spanking cause of the ponies, right?" Bull persisted.
"Nope, the ponies are home free," Genghis agreed.
"Whew! Well I'm back to the sack," Bull said and went back to bed.
"And you're over my knee," the giant squid laughed and landed a smack right on my teeny tiny bottom.
"Heyyyyyy!" I complained.
"You should have called me to tell me what was going on," Cowboy said and delivered another smack.
"No peach cobbler!" I yelled.
"Is that so?" he said in that scary voice.
Oy.
"Going to tell Bull and Patrick you spanked me for NOTHING!"
"No, you're not," the president of Neanderthals R Us said.
"Since when do ponies in the backyard constitute putting my health or safety in jeopardy?"
"My health," the Neanderthal replied. "My mental health."
"Not fair!" I protested as I stared at the carpet. Hmmm, need to get these shampooed. "You're changing the rules. I'm not cooking till you apologize for spanking me."
I am indignant and feeling very put upon at the moment.
"Apologize? For giving you a well-deserved smack? Nope."
...And another smack made contact.
I took a deep breath, grabbed Cowboy's bare leg... and BIT HIM!
A very ugly stream of words followed. Not from me, from HIM. I'm an angel.
"Are you going to apologize?" I asked as he pulled me up and away from his leg.
"Gonna toast your tush, bambina."
"You'd be better off making whoopee instead," I assured him.
"You been reading Winning Through Intimidation again?"
I nodded.
"You win. I apologize. Now kiss me."
The band played on... Later, I made peach cobbler... and spent the day playing with the ponies.
Some days I am so good at this I can't stand it.
~Sar~
Monday, July 02, 2007
Facts & Myths
Fact: Cowboy here.
Fact: The imp finally ran out of steam and is taking a much needed nap. She's been cooking/baking nonstop since Bull arrived. The meals are out of this world but she needs to slow down, do less and rest more.
Fact: Rain + sunshine = rain.
Fact: Light rain + sunshine = rain.
Myth: Sunshine + any kind of rain does NOT = no rain. I had to chase her down to get her out of the rain.
Fact: She's been sneezing since she went out into the *no rain* to romp with the pups.
Myth: My hand warming the imp's backside. Wanna bet?
Fact: My hand warming the imp's backside.
Myth: Sar agreeing she deserved a hot tush.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Fact: Tossed her over my shoulder and got on the scale. Put her down to weigh myself. Subtracted the difference. She's down 4 pounds she can't afford to lose.
Fact: My wife needs to gain weight, eat more calories and do less.
Fact: Told Bull to make sure she doesn't jog the regular 5 miles every day; 2 miles is plenty.
Myth: Sar readily agreed, then searched online for a few pigs that fly.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Fact: We have a major anniversary coming up this summer. Thinking about taking the imp to Europe as soon as I re-arrange my schedule.
Fact: Last time we were there, she went off on her own while I was on a conference call and got lost in the hill country in northern Italy. Eventually she called to ask me to come get her, I said where are you? Sar's response: I'm lost, it's hilly and everybody's speaking Italian.
Fact: Found her, warmed that little tush for a/leaving; b/scaring the hell out of me; c/because it made *me* feel better.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Myth: She's leaving me.
Fact: Medical appointment coming up. Sar has to go in every 3 months - she has intestinal concerns. The appointments keep us ahead of any problems that might crop up. Her high metabolic rate needs monitoring and the meds regulated to keep her healthy.
Fact: As soon as the imp's name appears on the schedule, lab techs put in for vacation. Medics too. Only the nurses seem to get a big kick out of those visits.
Myth: She sends food baskets to the nurses to ensure their cooperation. This actually might be factual. Bribing is an effective strategy.
Fact: A few years ago while I was at sea, Sar was in a serious accident, David took her to the hospital and stayed until she was stable. He said your wife can really kick ass. Uncertain whether I should be proud or remind myself to toast her butt after I got back.
Fact: The dogs were whining outside the bedroom door trying to worm their way in so they could be near the imp. She was asleep. Had to move her to the downstairs couch so they could check up on her every 30 seconds.
Myth: Sar will continue to nap/rest on the couch after I leave the house.
Fact: She'll use food to bribe Bull into letting her get up.
Fact: I will bust her bottom the second she gets off that couch.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Fact: Almost certain there's no peach cobbler on the immediate horizon.
Cowboy
Fact: The imp finally ran out of steam and is taking a much needed nap. She's been cooking/baking nonstop since Bull arrived. The meals are out of this world but she needs to slow down, do less and rest more.
Fact: Rain + sunshine = rain.
Fact: Light rain + sunshine = rain.
Myth: Sunshine + any kind of rain does NOT = no rain. I had to chase her down to get her out of the rain.
Fact: She's been sneezing since she went out into the *no rain* to romp with the pups.
Myth: My hand warming the imp's backside. Wanna bet?
Fact: My hand warming the imp's backside.
Myth: Sar agreeing she deserved a hot tush.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Fact: Tossed her over my shoulder and got on the scale. Put her down to weigh myself. Subtracted the difference. She's down 4 pounds she can't afford to lose.
Fact: My wife needs to gain weight, eat more calories and do less.
Fact: Told Bull to make sure she doesn't jog the regular 5 miles every day; 2 miles is plenty.
Myth: Sar readily agreed, then searched online for a few pigs that fly.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Fact: We have a major anniversary coming up this summer. Thinking about taking the imp to Europe as soon as I re-arrange my schedule.
Fact: Last time we were there, she went off on her own while I was on a conference call and got lost in the hill country in northern Italy. Eventually she called to ask me to come get her, I said where are you? Sar's response: I'm lost, it's hilly and everybody's speaking Italian.
Fact: Found her, warmed that little tush for a/leaving; b/scaring the hell out of me; c/because it made *me* feel better.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Myth: She's leaving me.
Fact: Medical appointment coming up. Sar has to go in every 3 months - she has intestinal concerns. The appointments keep us ahead of any problems that might crop up. Her high metabolic rate needs monitoring and the meds regulated to keep her healthy.
Fact: As soon as the imp's name appears on the schedule, lab techs put in for vacation. Medics too. Only the nurses seem to get a big kick out of those visits.
Myth: She sends food baskets to the nurses to ensure their cooperation. This actually might be factual. Bribing is an effective strategy.
Fact: A few years ago while I was at sea, Sar was in a serious accident, David took her to the hospital and stayed until she was stable. He said your wife can really kick ass. Uncertain whether I should be proud or remind myself to toast her butt after I got back.
Fact: The dogs were whining outside the bedroom door trying to worm their way in so they could be near the imp. She was asleep. Had to move her to the downstairs couch so they could check up on her every 30 seconds.
Myth: Sar will continue to nap/rest on the couch after I leave the house.
Fact: She'll use food to bribe Bull into letting her get up.
Fact: I will bust her bottom the second she gets off that couch.
Fact: I'm a Neanderthal, bully, barbarian, piss ant plus everything in between.
Fact: Almost certain there's no peach cobbler on the immediate horizon.
Cowboy
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Mea Culpa Redux!
I opened an email from a "reader" last night. She wanted to know "what the hell was going on in my life" and was I so busy, I couldn't stop what I was doing and drop everyone a line?
Well... on the index page on my web site, the blog *is* listed as "Sar's Occasional Blog," occasional being the operative word. Some day I'm going to post two days in a row and shock everyone that reads here.
Life has been busy and for the most part, really upbeat. Bull is HOME! If you're on the "announce list," you get an email from me when I post a new story to the site so some of you already know that Bull is finally home from an 18-month deployment. I've missed the big lug something awful and am gratified he's home and safe and in one piece. He hasn't stopped eating... I actually was relieved when he finally took a nap the other day. It meant I could get out of the kitchen for a couple of hours. That boy has an endless appetite.
Bull's mama and sisters arrived yesterday to spend a few days with us. Lovely family and lucky ME! Bull's mama is gonna teach me how to make "possum pie." Oye! I told Cowboy he has to drive up some of the rural roads at night and find some road kill to bring home... Cowboy's response was not terribly polite. Tsk.
Hadrian, the Neapolitan Mastiff we've been fostering has passed his obedience trials! Hurray! That animal is currently weighing in about 180-lbs. (close to 13 stone) and still growing. Hard to believe any dog is bigger than BullyBoy but he is. He'll need a strong personality to keep him in line but other than being a lazy son of a gun, he's a very sweet and loving animal. Neo's are generally one owner type dogs, extraordinarily protective and picky about who gets to visit their master. If he goes to a family with children, he'll be a better guardian than the Secret Service. Best of all, he's not a picky eater.
"I don't suppose you'd like to keep Hadrian?" I asked the giant squid.
"You suppose right."
Tsk.
"David could use a big watchdog at his house. His housekeeper would have a companion when he's away."
"You already gave him a giant tortoise," was the reply.
"A tortoise doesn't qualify as a watchdog."
"Someone sneaks onto his deck in the middle of the night and encounters that sea monster isn't a deterrent?"
"Only if they're carrying Twinkies."
SWAT!
Tsk.
"What about Bull? I bet Bull would love to have Hadrian."
"Bull is living with us when he's not on base so the dog would be here."
"And your point?"
SWAT!
I thought so. Tsk.
My neighbor, MsHairUpHerAss has been away visiting her "born again" daughter somewhere in the middle of the United States. She always comes back filled with lofty ideas about how I should live my life. I don't have any feelings one way or the other about her beliefs; I just don't want her spouting them to me. I told her if she can't keep those thoughts to herself I'd organize a Wicca ceremony on her front lawn at the next full moon. All the Wiccans would be nude and they'd chant so loud that the entire neighborhood would come over to see what MsHairUpHerAss had going on at her house.
She complained to Cowboy.
His response was that he was glad it wasn't going to take place at our house but he was willing to call the media to cover the event. This didn't stop him from delivering a couple of swats to *my* backside.
Double tsk.
Come to think of it, Peeper Patterson, another close neighbor, has a "born again" daughter who also resides in the middle of the U.S. ... Hmmm...
Speaking of neighbors... did I mention that MsKeptWoman had a falling out with her sugar daddy? He's a European businessman who visits the U.S. about once a month. While he's here, he spends a few days with MsKeptWoman who lives in a very nice house that he purchased for her. I don't know the details of their financial arrangements but I do know that he provides well for her and for the most part, she's free to do "her own thing" as long as she's home when he arrives. Welllll... she recently had a milestone birthday and is feeling o-l-d and washed up. I told her o-l-d is what the giant squid is and she had a long ways to go to catch up with him. I even told her she could out-jog him.
So... the three of us were jogging the other day and she mentioned that tiny little fact to Cowboy. For some reason, he took exception to that.
SWAT!
Tsk. I won't be telling her anything important in the future.
For those of YOU who complained about the recipe section, I finally got around to posting "peachy" things. Take a look.
~Sar~
Well... on the index page on my web site, the blog *is* listed as "Sar's Occasional Blog," occasional being the operative word. Some day I'm going to post two days in a row and shock everyone that reads here.
Life has been busy and for the most part, really upbeat. Bull is HOME! If you're on the "announce list," you get an email from me when I post a new story to the site so some of you already know that Bull is finally home from an 18-month deployment. I've missed the big lug something awful and am gratified he's home and safe and in one piece. He hasn't stopped eating... I actually was relieved when he finally took a nap the other day. It meant I could get out of the kitchen for a couple of hours. That boy has an endless appetite.
Bull's mama and sisters arrived yesterday to spend a few days with us. Lovely family and lucky ME! Bull's mama is gonna teach me how to make "possum pie." Oye! I told Cowboy he has to drive up some of the rural roads at night and find some road kill to bring home... Cowboy's response was not terribly polite. Tsk.
Hadrian, the Neapolitan Mastiff we've been fostering has passed his obedience trials! Hurray! That animal is currently weighing in about 180-lbs. (close to 13 stone) and still growing. Hard to believe any dog is bigger than BullyBoy but he is. He'll need a strong personality to keep him in line but other than being a lazy son of a gun, he's a very sweet and loving animal. Neo's are generally one owner type dogs, extraordinarily protective and picky about who gets to visit their master. If he goes to a family with children, he'll be a better guardian than the Secret Service. Best of all, he's not a picky eater.
"I don't suppose you'd like to keep Hadrian?" I asked the giant squid.
"You suppose right."
Tsk.
"David could use a big watchdog at his house. His housekeeper would have a companion when he's away."
"You already gave him a giant tortoise," was the reply.
"A tortoise doesn't qualify as a watchdog."
"Someone sneaks onto his deck in the middle of the night and encounters that sea monster isn't a deterrent?"
"Only if they're carrying Twinkies."
SWAT!
Tsk.
"What about Bull? I bet Bull would love to have Hadrian."
"Bull is living with us when he's not on base so the dog would be here."
"And your point?"
SWAT!
I thought so. Tsk.
My neighbor, MsHairUpHerAss has been away visiting her "born again" daughter somewhere in the middle of the United States. She always comes back filled with lofty ideas about how I should live my life. I don't have any feelings one way or the other about her beliefs; I just don't want her spouting them to me. I told her if she can't keep those thoughts to herself I'd organize a Wicca ceremony on her front lawn at the next full moon. All the Wiccans would be nude and they'd chant so loud that the entire neighborhood would come over to see what MsHairUpHerAss had going on at her house.
She complained to Cowboy.
His response was that he was glad it wasn't going to take place at our house but he was willing to call the media to cover the event. This didn't stop him from delivering a couple of swats to *my* backside.
Double tsk.
Come to think of it, Peeper Patterson, another close neighbor, has a "born again" daughter who also resides in the middle of the U.S. ... Hmmm...
Speaking of neighbors... did I mention that MsKeptWoman had a falling out with her sugar daddy? He's a European businessman who visits the U.S. about once a month. While he's here, he spends a few days with MsKeptWoman who lives in a very nice house that he purchased for her. I don't know the details of their financial arrangements but I do know that he provides well for her and for the most part, she's free to do "her own thing" as long as she's home when he arrives. Welllll... she recently had a milestone birthday and is feeling o-l-d and washed up. I told her o-l-d is what the giant squid is and she had a long ways to go to catch up with him. I even told her she could out-jog him.
So... the three of us were jogging the other day and she mentioned that tiny little fact to Cowboy. For some reason, he took exception to that.
SWAT!
Tsk. I won't be telling her anything important in the future.
For those of YOU who complained about the recipe section, I finally got around to posting "peachy" things. Take a look.
~Sar~
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Did It All!
We're home again. Had the very best time in San Diego and again, in New Orleans. I see Cowboy told you about San Diego - what a super place to visit. We've been there a few times over the years; the Pacific is beautiful there, very different from the views up here and they have two outstanding zoos. I could get lost there... putting that on the "back burner" for a future adventure. (I got locked into a zoo once... I fell asleep and when I woke up, the place was dark. I knew I could find a zookeeper and get out but the thought that I could walk around and see the animals at night was too intriguing to miss. Naturally, the giant squid had other thoughts... stalkers, etc and when I didn't come home at the appointed time, he "rescued" me from myself. The details of that event are murky... I was totally INNOCENT and he spanked me anyway. The man has NO couth.)
We flew home, repacked and went down to New Orleans. Alli and her husband and four boys met us there along with Max and Vi and Glory. 'Twas glorious!
We stayed with Max's family in the Garden District. Rode the trolley! Ate royally! And Alli and I gave the giant squid and her husband, Paul a run for their money! Shopped here... ate there... ran amok. Drank enough chicory coffee to sink a ship and ate so many beignets I actually gained 2 pounds. Had the *best* time!
Cowboy and Paul got lost in the "train" shop on Jackson Square. All the little boys go there...
SWAT!
Laughing softly...
Alli and I, along with Vi and Glory, went to one of the Mardi Gras shops. We tried on masks and strings and strings of beads. Bought a few of each. Thinking about wearing a mask and beads and my birthday suit the next time the giant squid gets perky.
SWAT!
LOL! I meant, next time the giant squid gets frisky.
SWAT!
LOL!
We celebrated Cowboy's birthday in New Orleans. Max arranged for a jazz band - some of those musicians play regularly at Preservation Hall so they were really the BEST. They went from "When the Saints" right into "Happy Birthday" and the big lug actually blushed. We had cake and pie and about 50 folks. I did an impromptu jazzy dance number and after a few Hurricane drinks, the squid did a really wicked limbo dance. Naturally, I took pics of that event. Naturally I took crotch shots.
SWAT!
~Grinning~
After the guests left - 2 were passed out on the floor and stayed for breakfast... Cowboy and I retired to the guestroom we were staying in. He decided it was time for me to have his birthday spanking. I agreed provided it was a sweet one. He didn't make any promises so I got the hell out of Dodge and went back to the kitchen where I tried to eat the rest of the birthday cake. I couldn't help myself - it was German Chocolate!
He caught up with me and with me under one arm - making wild inferences about his parentage - and the rest of the birthday cake in his other hand - we made it back to the bedroom where the cake and the birthday spanking sort of got mixed together. The man is soooooooo o-l-d he can't remember how many swats he delivered - kept losing count - I finally threatened to post his "limbo crotch" pics on the Internet. And because I'm a lady I won't repeat what that sailor said.
~Sar~
We flew home, repacked and went down to New Orleans. Alli and her husband and four boys met us there along with Max and Vi and Glory. 'Twas glorious!
We stayed with Max's family in the Garden District. Rode the trolley! Ate royally! And Alli and I gave the giant squid and her husband, Paul a run for their money! Shopped here... ate there... ran amok. Drank enough chicory coffee to sink a ship and ate so many beignets I actually gained 2 pounds. Had the *best* time!
Cowboy and Paul got lost in the "train" shop on Jackson Square. All the little boys go there...
SWAT!
Laughing softly...
Alli and I, along with Vi and Glory, went to one of the Mardi Gras shops. We tried on masks and strings and strings of beads. Bought a few of each. Thinking about wearing a mask and beads and my birthday suit the next time the giant squid gets perky.
SWAT!
LOL! I meant, next time the giant squid gets frisky.
SWAT!
LOL!
We celebrated Cowboy's birthday in New Orleans. Max arranged for a jazz band - some of those musicians play regularly at Preservation Hall so they were really the BEST. They went from "When the Saints" right into "Happy Birthday" and the big lug actually blushed. We had cake and pie and about 50 folks. I did an impromptu jazzy dance number and after a few Hurricane drinks, the squid did a really wicked limbo dance. Naturally, I took pics of that event. Naturally I took crotch shots.
SWAT!
~Grinning~
After the guests left - 2 were passed out on the floor and stayed for breakfast... Cowboy and I retired to the guestroom we were staying in. He decided it was time for me to have his birthday spanking. I agreed provided it was a sweet one. He didn't make any promises so I got the hell out of Dodge and went back to the kitchen where I tried to eat the rest of the birthday cake. I couldn't help myself - it was German Chocolate!
He caught up with me and with me under one arm - making wild inferences about his parentage - and the rest of the birthday cake in his other hand - we made it back to the bedroom where the cake and the birthday spanking sort of got mixed together. The man is soooooooo o-l-d he can't remember how many swats he delivered - kept losing count - I finally threatened to post his "limbo crotch" pics on the Internet. And because I'm a lady I won't repeat what that sailor said.
~Sar~
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Sar: Food and Animals
Cowboy here. Writing this while the imp sleeps; hope to post it before she wakes. We're in San Diego for a few days. Flew down to attend Memorial Day ceremonies - always a moving event - especially on a military base. Plan to stick around a day or 2 afterwards so I can take Sar out to Balboa Park where there is a "large animal" zoo.
We went to the regular San Diego zoo yesterday - Sar was in 7th heaven - animals and junk food and a lot to see. A must-see stop is the area set aside for children so my wife can pet anything and everything. Her eyes go all wide the minute she sees the animals she'd like to take home. Because nothing is beyond her-- I accompany her so she's not arrested for theft or comes home with a creature nobody in their right mind would have as a pet. At one point I was forced to hold a corn dog and a soft drink while the imp consumed an ice cream bar followed by a giant cookie. Yeah, I know. I paid for all that crap but nevertheless--
Taking Sar to the zoo is similar to leading a class of grade school kids around. The imp is everywhere at once, ignores my admonitions, wants to eat from all the concessions and makes sounds of pure joy when she sees the various exhibits. Frankly, those sounds are best left to the privacy of our bedroom. Pure joy is what it's all about so when it comes to my wife's joy, I like to indulge her. Exception is bringing home another animal-- in particular, a wild one.
Last night we attended a formal military affair. Dress whites for me, a ball gown for mia amore. She was the most beautiful woman there. The minute we hit the dance floor, others cut in. No respect for rank either. Naturally I cut back in and only conceded to let a few close friends have that honor. She danced almost every dance. The evening event was enjoyable for both of us.
When we leave, we're headed home for a day to regroup, check on the house and animals. A couple is house sitting, feeding the menagerie. A bit of last minute packing, then it's off to New Orleans. Sar's "family" is flying in from Chicago. Her oldest closest friend and family are also joining us. As much as she wants to be with them I'm betting the imp is more excited about chicory coffee, beignets and all that rich "Nawlins" food. Trust me. I know my wife. Food is a high priority.
She also wants to ride the trolley, take a paddleboat ride, get her picture drawn at one of those artist stands on Jackson Square and ride in a horse drawn carriage. You'd think she was a tourist but she spent a month or more there every year as a kid living with Max and his ladies. Sar and Alli are bound to get into mischief-- Again, I need to accompany them to make sure they don't get arrested.
One of us will keep you posted. "Days of our lives" with the imp are never boring. If she complains about a swat or 2, you can be sure it was well deserved.
Cowboy
We went to the regular San Diego zoo yesterday - Sar was in 7th heaven - animals and junk food and a lot to see. A must-see stop is the area set aside for children so my wife can pet anything and everything. Her eyes go all wide the minute she sees the animals she'd like to take home. Because nothing is beyond her-- I accompany her so she's not arrested for theft or comes home with a creature nobody in their right mind would have as a pet. At one point I was forced to hold a corn dog and a soft drink while the imp consumed an ice cream bar followed by a giant cookie. Yeah, I know. I paid for all that crap but nevertheless--
Taking Sar to the zoo is similar to leading a class of grade school kids around. The imp is everywhere at once, ignores my admonitions, wants to eat from all the concessions and makes sounds of pure joy when she sees the various exhibits. Frankly, those sounds are best left to the privacy of our bedroom. Pure joy is what it's all about so when it comes to my wife's joy, I like to indulge her. Exception is bringing home another animal-- in particular, a wild one.
Last night we attended a formal military affair. Dress whites for me, a ball gown for mia amore. She was the most beautiful woman there. The minute we hit the dance floor, others cut in. No respect for rank either. Naturally I cut back in and only conceded to let a few close friends have that honor. She danced almost every dance. The evening event was enjoyable for both of us.
When we leave, we're headed home for a day to regroup, check on the house and animals. A couple is house sitting, feeding the menagerie. A bit of last minute packing, then it's off to New Orleans. Sar's "family" is flying in from Chicago. Her oldest closest friend and family are also joining us. As much as she wants to be with them I'm betting the imp is more excited about chicory coffee, beignets and all that rich "Nawlins" food. Trust me. I know my wife. Food is a high priority.
She also wants to ride the trolley, take a paddleboat ride, get her picture drawn at one of those artist stands on Jackson Square and ride in a horse drawn carriage. You'd think she was a tourist but she spent a month or more there every year as a kid living with Max and his ladies. Sar and Alli are bound to get into mischief-- Again, I need to accompany them to make sure they don't get arrested.
One of us will keep you posted. "Days of our lives" with the imp are never boring. If she complains about a swat or 2, you can be sure it was well deserved.
Cowboy
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Hello!
Did you think I'd forgotten you? Been busy and probably doing too much but sometimes, life is like a drug. I can't stop doing! The freezer is full again, everything is spick and span and the yard is shaping up beautifully. Friends have been over for dinner, the dogs and cats are well and even the new pup, Hadrian, the Neapolitan Mastiff, is starting to behave like a dog that's had a little training.
The caveman I married, however...
"What are you doing imp?"
"Reading a book," I reply sweetly.
"That better be a novel," he yells from downstairs, "and not a 'how-to' by Harry Houdini."
I like to have an escape route planned in advance just in case I need to get out of Dodge in a hurry.
"We're going over to the Simmons' place for drinks later. I want you to be polite to Maddie Simmons."
"Uh huh."
"I mean it, babe," he says, his voice getting closer. (He must be coming up the stairs.)
Maddie Simmons is a repressed suffragette. When she lived in the "deep South," she was president of the local chapter of "Daughters of the American Revolution" and she named her own daughter Susan B in honor of Susan B. Anthony. I don't know the correlation between Susan B and the American Revolution, but no matter. She's a kook. She once asked if I wanted to join the temperance union... I think the lady has been sniffing too much aerosol spray.
"And wear a dress," Mr. Manners orders as he comes up behind me.
"Of course," I agree. I've got tight leather tap pants. I'll put a raincoat over them and Cowboy won't notice. Then, when I take the raincoat off, Maddie Simmons might faint and I won't have to endure her for very long. Her husband, an uptight deacon in his church, might have cardiac arrest. Oh goody! Two birds with one stone.
"And don't do anything funny!" Cowboy adds, picks me up by the waist and gives me a swat and then drops me back in my chair.
I hasten to cover up my Houdini book.
Moving right along...
I was away for a few days - in St. Louis - at a textile show. Asked a close friend from Chicago to meet me and come along for company. She can't sew and would kill herself if she picked up a needle but she's great fun to be with i.e., loves to eat, doesn't worry about calories and is a better kick boxer than I am. Cowboy called after we were there only 2 days to mention that the credit card company informed him that his credit card was smoking. Tsk. I switched to his other card.
When I got back I noticed that Hadrian, the Neo beastie seemed to have gained a LOT of weight while I was gone. I counted all the dogs and cats and checked to make sure all the neighborhood kids were still alive and kicking. That dog has an enormous appetite! He was so happy to see me he slobbered all over my shoes. I was happy to see him, too but the shoes are a total washout. I have to teach him to keep his head down while eating and drinking... that should reduce the slobber.
Met up with friends I have coffee with twice a week. We take turns hosting it at our homes. The last one was at the home of Patrick's girl friends house. Her mother is my friend; her daughter is Missy, the 7-year old hussy who has her eyes on my 9-year old Patrick. (Patrick has his own mother but I consider him mine.) I brought Key Lime pie - 6 of them. All four of us ate all six pies. 'Twas truly wonderful and I was too full to eat the takeout Cowboy brought home for dinner... eggplant parmesian...
SWAT!
"You filled up on junk food, didn't you?" the Neanderthal muttered when I concentrated on garlic bread and wine instead of that purple stuff.
Key Lime pie is not junk food but I chose not to mention that.
SWAT!
Tsk.
There are new folks in our neighborhood. I'm guessing that the cat that is serenading us on our fence at night belongs to them. My female cat has been neutered; the male cat is desperate to get out there and beat the beejeesus out of that feline interloper. And Tank and Panda, the outside Rotts keep standing on their hind paws trying to reach the noisy critter; they're always interested in a snack.
I think the cat is not long for this world - it's spring and the coyotes are out and hungry.
"You should tell those neighbors about their cat," Cowboy suggests while we listened to its song.
"Why? It's singing off key," I remarked.
SWAT!
My husband has lost his sense of humor.
David has deployed again. He says it will be a short trip, just a few weeks. Crossing my fingers on that one. I packed some snacks for him and he had the gall to say "behave" while I'm gone. Sure.
Okey dokey, have to go try on those tap pants for the visit to the Simmons'. Good thing I read that Houdini book. When Cowboy sees them I'm going to need that escape route.
~Sar~
The caveman I married, however...
"What are you doing imp?"
"Reading a book," I reply sweetly.
"That better be a novel," he yells from downstairs, "and not a 'how-to' by Harry Houdini."
I like to have an escape route planned in advance just in case I need to get out of Dodge in a hurry.
"We're going over to the Simmons' place for drinks later. I want you to be polite to Maddie Simmons."
"Uh huh."
"I mean it, babe," he says, his voice getting closer. (He must be coming up the stairs.)
Maddie Simmons is a repressed suffragette. When she lived in the "deep South," she was president of the local chapter of "Daughters of the American Revolution" and she named her own daughter Susan B in honor of Susan B. Anthony. I don't know the correlation between Susan B and the American Revolution, but no matter. She's a kook. She once asked if I wanted to join the temperance union... I think the lady has been sniffing too much aerosol spray.
"And wear a dress," Mr. Manners orders as he comes up behind me.
"Of course," I agree. I've got tight leather tap pants. I'll put a raincoat over them and Cowboy won't notice. Then, when I take the raincoat off, Maddie Simmons might faint and I won't have to endure her for very long. Her husband, an uptight deacon in his church, might have cardiac arrest. Oh goody! Two birds with one stone.
"And don't do anything funny!" Cowboy adds, picks me up by the waist and gives me a swat and then drops me back in my chair.
I hasten to cover up my Houdini book.
Moving right along...
I was away for a few days - in St. Louis - at a textile show. Asked a close friend from Chicago to meet me and come along for company. She can't sew and would kill herself if she picked up a needle but she's great fun to be with i.e., loves to eat, doesn't worry about calories and is a better kick boxer than I am. Cowboy called after we were there only 2 days to mention that the credit card company informed him that his credit card was smoking. Tsk. I switched to his other card.
When I got back I noticed that Hadrian, the Neo beastie seemed to have gained a LOT of weight while I was gone. I counted all the dogs and cats and checked to make sure all the neighborhood kids were still alive and kicking. That dog has an enormous appetite! He was so happy to see me he slobbered all over my shoes. I was happy to see him, too but the shoes are a total washout. I have to teach him to keep his head down while eating and drinking... that should reduce the slobber.
Met up with friends I have coffee with twice a week. We take turns hosting it at our homes. The last one was at the home of Patrick's girl friends house. Her mother is my friend; her daughter is Missy, the 7-year old hussy who has her eyes on my 9-year old Patrick. (Patrick has his own mother but I consider him mine.) I brought Key Lime pie - 6 of them. All four of us ate all six pies. 'Twas truly wonderful and I was too full to eat the takeout Cowboy brought home for dinner... eggplant parmesian...
SWAT!
"You filled up on junk food, didn't you?" the Neanderthal muttered when I concentrated on garlic bread and wine instead of that purple stuff.
Key Lime pie is not junk food but I chose not to mention that.
SWAT!
Tsk.
There are new folks in our neighborhood. I'm guessing that the cat that is serenading us on our fence at night belongs to them. My female cat has been neutered; the male cat is desperate to get out there and beat the beejeesus out of that feline interloper. And Tank and Panda, the outside Rotts keep standing on their hind paws trying to reach the noisy critter; they're always interested in a snack.
I think the cat is not long for this world - it's spring and the coyotes are out and hungry.
"You should tell those neighbors about their cat," Cowboy suggests while we listened to its song.
"Why? It's singing off key," I remarked.
SWAT!
My husband has lost his sense of humor.
David has deployed again. He says it will be a short trip, just a few weeks. Crossing my fingers on that one. I packed some snacks for him and he had the gall to say "behave" while I'm gone. Sure.
Okey dokey, have to go try on those tap pants for the visit to the Simmons'. Good thing I read that Houdini book. When Cowboy sees them I'm going to need that escape route.
~Sar~
Friday, May 11, 2007
Monsters
Had a really bad dream the other night - nightmare level. It was a dream I had over and over when I was a kid - monsters under the bed kinda dream. The thing about monsters under the bed is that you don't know what they look like but they have long hairy arms and big hairy paw-like hands that can grab your ankles if you get up in the middle of the night and sit on the side of the bed. They get a hold of your ankles and pull you under the bed and nobody ever sees you again.
Soooo I wake up thinking bathroom break and a middle of the night snack are in order. I sit up and slide over to the side of the bed opposite from where the giant squid is sleeping. I put my feet on the floor and suddenly remember the monsters and leap back into bed before they grab me. Multiple monsters = multiple hairy paw-like hands grabbing at my ankles.
The Neanderthal I share a bed with wants to know what the problem is. I tell him and he laughs. He laughs! I'm about to wet my pants and he's laughing.
I tell him he has to pick me up and set me down several feet from the bed.
He's still laughing.
"This is not funny. If you don't pick me up I'm going to have to jump out of bed far enough so that the monsters don't get me. I could break a leg."
"What do you do if you have that nightmare when I'm out of town?"
"The dogs sleep in the bedroom. Dogs = no monsters."
"You aren't worried the monsters will grab *my* ankles?" Mr. Smarty Pants asks.
"Oh puleeze! Monsters don't want to eat giant squids. Everybody knows they want tasty females."
"What do I get for doing this?"
"You get a wet bed if you don't!"
Tsk. I got a swat and then he picked me up and set me down in front of the bathroom door. I thought about leaping onto the bed after I had my snack but the giant squid did one of those over-the-shoulder holds and took me downstairs so he could have a snack too. Unfortunately, he was out of couth and he swatted me the whole way down the stairs.
The dogs woke up and went on immediate "food alert" so I gave them snacks, too.
SWAT!
"Don't feed the dogs in the middle of the night, bambina."
Tsk
When we went back upstairs, SweetPea blustered his way into the bedroom and immediately stuck his nose under the bed!
I knew it! Something was under my bed!
Cowboy deposited me in the middle of the bed and got down on his hands and knees and looked under it with a flashlight. I told him how brave he was but then I remembered he was a Seal and a fearsome warrior.
He snorted when I said that and he was on his hands and knees and his butt was accessible... I couldn't let that opportunity go by... so I goosed him.
SWAT!
Miss Emmy, the cat, came out from under the bed and hissed and spit at Cowboy. He picked her up by the scruff of her neck and put her on the other side of the bedroom door.
I've thought about hissing and spitting at him myself a time or two. I have a feeling it wouldn't be my neck that would be in jeopardy.
"See! No monsters," he said when he got back in bed.
Miss Emmy isn't a monster but she *is* an ankle grabber.
"You saved me," I told him and hugged him tight. "But just in case... the monsters' arms come sneaking out from under the bed and poke around looking for me, I'm going to sleep on top of you tonight."
"Bambina, you only sleep on top of me when your tush is too sore for you to sleep on your back."
"I'm making an exception," I told him sweetly.
"I veto the exception," the Neanderthal said much too calmly and gave me a couple of really hard swats.
Tsk
"Okay, not sleeping on top of you, you big lug. But if the monsters get me, there's no sex for you ever again! No peach cobbler, either," I added.
He pulled me on top of him and I slept there all night.
~Sar~
Soooo I wake up thinking bathroom break and a middle of the night snack are in order. I sit up and slide over to the side of the bed opposite from where the giant squid is sleeping. I put my feet on the floor and suddenly remember the monsters and leap back into bed before they grab me. Multiple monsters = multiple hairy paw-like hands grabbing at my ankles.
The Neanderthal I share a bed with wants to know what the problem is. I tell him and he laughs. He laughs! I'm about to wet my pants and he's laughing.
I tell him he has to pick me up and set me down several feet from the bed.
He's still laughing.
"This is not funny. If you don't pick me up I'm going to have to jump out of bed far enough so that the monsters don't get me. I could break a leg."
"What do you do if you have that nightmare when I'm out of town?"
"The dogs sleep in the bedroom. Dogs = no monsters."
"You aren't worried the monsters will grab *my* ankles?" Mr. Smarty Pants asks.
"Oh puleeze! Monsters don't want to eat giant squids. Everybody knows they want tasty females."
"What do I get for doing this?"
"You get a wet bed if you don't!"
Tsk. I got a swat and then he picked me up and set me down in front of the bathroom door. I thought about leaping onto the bed after I had my snack but the giant squid did one of those over-the-shoulder holds and took me downstairs so he could have a snack too. Unfortunately, he was out of couth and he swatted me the whole way down the stairs.
The dogs woke up and went on immediate "food alert" so I gave them snacks, too.
SWAT!
"Don't feed the dogs in the middle of the night, bambina."
Tsk
When we went back upstairs, SweetPea blustered his way into the bedroom and immediately stuck his nose under the bed!
I knew it! Something was under my bed!
Cowboy deposited me in the middle of the bed and got down on his hands and knees and looked under it with a flashlight. I told him how brave he was but then I remembered he was a Seal and a fearsome warrior.
He snorted when I said that and he was on his hands and knees and his butt was accessible... I couldn't let that opportunity go by... so I goosed him.
SWAT!
Miss Emmy, the cat, came out from under the bed and hissed and spit at Cowboy. He picked her up by the scruff of her neck and put her on the other side of the bedroom door.
I've thought about hissing and spitting at him myself a time or two. I have a feeling it wouldn't be my neck that would be in jeopardy.
"See! No monsters," he said when he got back in bed.
Miss Emmy isn't a monster but she *is* an ankle grabber.
"You saved me," I told him and hugged him tight. "But just in case... the monsters' arms come sneaking out from under the bed and poke around looking for me, I'm going to sleep on top of you tonight."
"Bambina, you only sleep on top of me when your tush is too sore for you to sleep on your back."
"I'm making an exception," I told him sweetly.
"I veto the exception," the Neanderthal said much too calmly and gave me a couple of really hard swats.
Tsk
"Okay, not sleeping on top of you, you big lug. But if the monsters get me, there's no sex for you ever again! No peach cobbler, either," I added.
He pulled me on top of him and I slept there all night.
~Sar~
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Spring Stuff
Cowboy here. Sar's living in the fast lane again, something she tends to do on a regular basis unless I have a hold of her. I don't know what it is about spring but my wife is energized and all of us are affected.
She's cleaning. Folks-- we have animals in the house - 2 dogs, 2 cats - the other dogs are rarely in the house. Sar cleans some part of the house every day. I bought a robot vacuum for the upstairs. I hired a service to wash the windows and screens. The rugs are professionally cleaned several times a year; she still cleans something every day. Spring cleaning is not necessary.
When I threatened to warm that cute little butt if she didn't slow down, she went from cleaning to cleaning out. All the closets and bureaus have had their inventories cut, reorganized and some sweet smelling thing was added to most of them. I double checked to make sure she didn't put that thing in my things.
I have lost old and favorite shirts, sweats, socks as well as a few belts. I have lost favorite running shoes, ties and sweaters. I have put a double lock - electronic dead bolts - on my office door in case she gets some crazy idea about the old pistols and shotguns in my collection. I have posted *don't touch* signs on my tool chests.
My wife has brass. You knew that. After all was packed for the giveaway - her things included - she told me to drop everything off at a family shelter. I didn't want to lose those things; now I have to deliver them too. I sorted through the boxes, pulled a few things out that I don't plan to donate at this time. When Sar saw what I did, she stood on a chair - to be taller than me - and lectured. Did a decent impression of one of my old drill instructors too.
Yeah, I laughed. Applied a few swats. Hugged the stuffin out of her. Then put those things back where they belonged - in my closet etc.
Cleaning the house gave way to cooking and baking again. There's various soups, her famous apple cakes, a variety of cookies, brownies, tarts, several Italian dishes - braciole, lasagna, osa buca, pastas. Unfortunately peach cobbler isn't on the menu yet.
The dogs are getting nervous. The yard and kennels are next.
She's had long days at the university, teaching seminars on the textile arts. I know she enjoys these but a lot of energy is expended doing this and they wear her out. I won't let her drive there any more - I chauffeur her back and forth because Sar is generally asleep on the way home.
Today she is reorganizing her studio; there are vast quantities of materials - fabrics, fibers, threads - in the upstairs hallway, on the landing, and in the guestroom. The cats are happy about this, inspecting everything and napping in various places. The dogs have sniffed, sneezed and claimed several piles as their own. At one point I couldn't find Sar, then spotted her asleep in the middle of the chaos. Was tempted to lay down beside her and let nature take its course but knew I couldn't get rid of the curious dogs if I did that.
For those who have emailed to ask about new stories, Sar is writing a bit. She writes when she can. When she reads it over a lot of it is deleted or edited down to a few sentences. It will probably be another month or so - when the world has been Lysol-ed, polished, and reorganized before she can concentrate on new characters and plots. I may have to tie her to the bed to make her slow down. (Bed tying is another subject I won't get into at this time.)
Cinco de Mayo (5th of May) is coming up. When we lived in Miami it was a city-wide celebration - festivals, parades and good eating. Sar loves holidays and holiday food and invited a bunch of folks for Spanish bean soup, aroz con pollo (chicken & yellow rice,) paella (yellow rice, chicken, shrimp, clams,) media noche (Cuban sandwiches,) moros (black beans & rice) and platinos (fried plaintains.) All delicious foods that will be spread over a 3-day weekend. Spanish style desserts are also on the menu. I forgot to mention May 1 is *dance around the May pole day* which is also "blini day" in our house - blintzes + strawberries and cream. Dancing + eating = a very excited imp.
The downside to the preparations is that Sar is a little more tired than usual. But, in addition to the good food and holiday company, the upside is that Sar sleeps better. For someone who has chronic insomnia, this is good. I'm known as Mr. Worry Wart which is part of my job. I take that job seriously. So against her wishes, I'll take my wife in for a thorough checkup in a few weeks. Having been there, done that on several occasions, I plan to stay in the exam room to make sure Sar gets the necessary tests and that the medics don't get too many cuts and bruises. It's a duck shoot no matter how you look at it.
We're fostering a Neapolitan Mastiff pup. The animal's about the size of a Shetland pony and gaining weight every day. It eats anything and everything. It's starting to obey Sar, ignores everyone else. Does that remind you of someone? It drools on the cats so it's not all bad.
Cowboy
She's cleaning. Folks-- we have animals in the house - 2 dogs, 2 cats - the other dogs are rarely in the house. Sar cleans some part of the house every day. I bought a robot vacuum for the upstairs. I hired a service to wash the windows and screens. The rugs are professionally cleaned several times a year; she still cleans something every day. Spring cleaning is not necessary.
When I threatened to warm that cute little butt if she didn't slow down, she went from cleaning to cleaning out. All the closets and bureaus have had their inventories cut, reorganized and some sweet smelling thing was added to most of them. I double checked to make sure she didn't put that thing in my things.
I have lost old and favorite shirts, sweats, socks as well as a few belts. I have lost favorite running shoes, ties and sweaters. I have put a double lock - electronic dead bolts - on my office door in case she gets some crazy idea about the old pistols and shotguns in my collection. I have posted *don't touch* signs on my tool chests.
My wife has brass. You knew that. After all was packed for the giveaway - her things included - she told me to drop everything off at a family shelter. I didn't want to lose those things; now I have to deliver them too. I sorted through the boxes, pulled a few things out that I don't plan to donate at this time. When Sar saw what I did, she stood on a chair - to be taller than me - and lectured. Did a decent impression of one of my old drill instructors too.
Yeah, I laughed. Applied a few swats. Hugged the stuffin out of her. Then put those things back where they belonged - in my closet etc.
Cleaning the house gave way to cooking and baking again. There's various soups, her famous apple cakes, a variety of cookies, brownies, tarts, several Italian dishes - braciole, lasagna, osa buca, pastas. Unfortunately peach cobbler isn't on the menu yet.
The dogs are getting nervous. The yard and kennels are next.
She's had long days at the university, teaching seminars on the textile arts. I know she enjoys these but a lot of energy is expended doing this and they wear her out. I won't let her drive there any more - I chauffeur her back and forth because Sar is generally asleep on the way home.
Today she is reorganizing her studio; there are vast quantities of materials - fabrics, fibers, threads - in the upstairs hallway, on the landing, and in the guestroom. The cats are happy about this, inspecting everything and napping in various places. The dogs have sniffed, sneezed and claimed several piles as their own. At one point I couldn't find Sar, then spotted her asleep in the middle of the chaos. Was tempted to lay down beside her and let nature take its course but knew I couldn't get rid of the curious dogs if I did that.
For those who have emailed to ask about new stories, Sar is writing a bit. She writes when she can. When she reads it over a lot of it is deleted or edited down to a few sentences. It will probably be another month or so - when the world has been Lysol-ed, polished, and reorganized before she can concentrate on new characters and plots. I may have to tie her to the bed to make her slow down. (Bed tying is another subject I won't get into at this time.)
Cinco de Mayo (5th of May) is coming up. When we lived in Miami it was a city-wide celebration - festivals, parades and good eating. Sar loves holidays and holiday food and invited a bunch of folks for Spanish bean soup, aroz con pollo (chicken & yellow rice,) paella (yellow rice, chicken, shrimp, clams,) media noche (Cuban sandwiches,) moros (black beans & rice) and platinos (fried plaintains.) All delicious foods that will be spread over a 3-day weekend. Spanish style desserts are also on the menu. I forgot to mention May 1 is *dance around the May pole day* which is also "blini day" in our house - blintzes + strawberries and cream. Dancing + eating = a very excited imp.
The downside to the preparations is that Sar is a little more tired than usual. But, in addition to the good food and holiday company, the upside is that Sar sleeps better. For someone who has chronic insomnia, this is good. I'm known as Mr. Worry Wart which is part of my job. I take that job seriously. So against her wishes, I'll take my wife in for a thorough checkup in a few weeks. Having been there, done that on several occasions, I plan to stay in the exam room to make sure Sar gets the necessary tests and that the medics don't get too many cuts and bruises. It's a duck shoot no matter how you look at it.
We're fostering a Neapolitan Mastiff pup. The animal's about the size of a Shetland pony and gaining weight every day. It eats anything and everything. It's starting to obey Sar, ignores everyone else. Does that remind you of someone? It drools on the cats so it's not all bad.
Cowboy
Friday, April 13, 2007
Triskadeckaphobia!
It's Friday the 13th! One of my very favorite days. I don't really understand the fear of the 13th day of the month when it falls on a Friday. Fridays are Fridays and 13ths are 13ths. If some ill wind is blowing, it's blowing. Wing it if you can and if not, don't walk under ladders, cuddle with black cats but do throw salt over your shoulder if it makes you feel better.
I like to dance naked under the moon - full or otherwise - on the 13th. Scares the beejeebees out of nosy neighbors. "There's that witch, dancing again!"
Actually, only one neighbor can see me - our property is fenced - and he's trying to get a peek through binoculars from his 2nd story bedroom window. He's also pushing 98 so if this makes him happy, so be it.
"You're gonna give that man a heart attack!" the giant squid says when he tries to catch me dancing naked in the backyard.
"But he'll die happy," I laugh.
"You're not gonna be happy when I catch you and toast your tush!"
"You gotta catch me first, squid!"
We go back and forth like this while he stalks me and I dance away. Sometimes he tackles me early on and a serious tickling session ensues but he doesn't want me lying on the wet grass so usually we go in the house right away. If I can elude him for a while, he gets "sealy" and makes unpleasant threats.
Unfortunately, those threats usually spur my vocabulary... I cast doubts about his ability to hold his own with Army grunts, Air Force flyboys and those muscle boy Marines. He ignores the remarks about grunts and flyboys - that just makes him roll his eyes. But Marines... that's a challenge and he's ready to take any of them on. His pride is at stake.
And let's face it... the giant squid's pride is healthier than his ego and his ego is bigger than Detroit... Minneapolis/St. Paul, Chicago and...
"When I get my hands on you..."
Uh huh. As if I'm a marine. Tsk.
Moving right along...
We had a joyous spring holiday. Passover was wunderbar! And Easter was great fun. You understand that the religious significance is not as important to me as the FOOD and enjoying the company at my table. To each their own.
Contrary to what the squid posted in his ramblings about our celebrations, I did NOT steal any chocolate bunny ears. I simply said thank you when several... okay, a couple dozen or more... were offered. As for the jellybeans, I plead the 5th.
"Did you steal jellybeans from the kids' baskets?"
"Moi?"
SWAT!
Tsk.
"You're not supposed to take candy from children, Sar."
"But... it's so easy!"
SWAT!
Tsk.
"She took mine, too!" David, the marine complains. (Most of his lady bimbo friends gave him an Easter basket.
"Another easy mark," I smirk.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"Wouldn't you be disappointed if I didn't take them? You wouldn't have an excuse to swat me."
"Don't need an excuse, bambina."
SWAT!
Double tsk.
So... for a Friday the 13th breakfast for me and the pups, I made a glorious meal of pancakes, bacon, and strawberry milkshakes. Both Cowboy and David knew better than to expect me to make their breakfast.
We're headed home tomorrow. It's been about nine weeks since we left and I'm anxious to see friends and spend time in my garden. I fully intend to dance naked in the moonlight as soon as possible. My elderly neighbor isn't getting any younger and it's my sworn duty to make sure he's a happy peeper.
Did I tell you I got a new foster pup? Just one - he's a giant of a pup and still hasn't figured out how to place his big clumsy paws in the right place. He's a Neapolitan Mastiff - a real beauty, about 9 months old. His people gave him to the animal rescue society because they claim they didn't know he would grow to be the size of a pony. He's pushing 160 lbs. and has a ways to go. I'm giving serious thought to buying a saddle for him. His name was "Dawg." Tsk. I've renamed him Hadrian - an ancient Roman name - and the birthplace of his breed. His favorite activities are eating and sleeping - ergo! The cats adore him.
A group of friends sent one of those email surveys. It was a fun survey and one of the questions was: Did you ever milk a cow?
Yes, I did but as I told my friends, the cow wasn't very happy about it. It kept turning its head and muttering ugly words in my direction. I told Cowboy I must have pinched something wrong. On the other hand, it might have been one of those boy cows and this city girl shouldn't have been pinching anything. A similar thing happened when I tried to milk a goat. Needless to say the Neanderthal I live with continues to tease me about this.
Just for that... I'm stripping and going out to the backyard to dance!
~Sar~
I like to dance naked under the moon - full or otherwise - on the 13th. Scares the beejeebees out of nosy neighbors. "There's that witch, dancing again!"
Actually, only one neighbor can see me - our property is fenced - and he's trying to get a peek through binoculars from his 2nd story bedroom window. He's also pushing 98 so if this makes him happy, so be it.
"You're gonna give that man a heart attack!" the giant squid says when he tries to catch me dancing naked in the backyard.
"But he'll die happy," I laugh.
"You're not gonna be happy when I catch you and toast your tush!"
"You gotta catch me first, squid!"
We go back and forth like this while he stalks me and I dance away. Sometimes he tackles me early on and a serious tickling session ensues but he doesn't want me lying on the wet grass so usually we go in the house right away. If I can elude him for a while, he gets "sealy" and makes unpleasant threats.
Unfortunately, those threats usually spur my vocabulary... I cast doubts about his ability to hold his own with Army grunts, Air Force flyboys and those muscle boy Marines. He ignores the remarks about grunts and flyboys - that just makes him roll his eyes. But Marines... that's a challenge and he's ready to take any of them on. His pride is at stake.
And let's face it... the giant squid's pride is healthier than his ego and his ego is bigger than Detroit... Minneapolis/St. Paul, Chicago and...
"When I get my hands on you..."
Uh huh. As if I'm a marine. Tsk.
Moving right along...
We had a joyous spring holiday. Passover was wunderbar! And Easter was great fun. You understand that the religious significance is not as important to me as the FOOD and enjoying the company at my table. To each their own.
Contrary to what the squid posted in his ramblings about our celebrations, I did NOT steal any chocolate bunny ears. I simply said thank you when several... okay, a couple dozen or more... were offered. As for the jellybeans, I plead the 5th.
"Did you steal jellybeans from the kids' baskets?"
"Moi?"
SWAT!
Tsk.
"You're not supposed to take candy from children, Sar."
"But... it's so easy!"
SWAT!
Tsk.
"She took mine, too!" David, the marine complains. (Most of his lady bimbo friends gave him an Easter basket.
"Another easy mark," I smirk.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"Wouldn't you be disappointed if I didn't take them? You wouldn't have an excuse to swat me."
"Don't need an excuse, bambina."
SWAT!
Double tsk.
So... for a Friday the 13th breakfast for me and the pups, I made a glorious meal of pancakes, bacon, and strawberry milkshakes. Both Cowboy and David knew better than to expect me to make their breakfast.
We're headed home tomorrow. It's been about nine weeks since we left and I'm anxious to see friends and spend time in my garden. I fully intend to dance naked in the moonlight as soon as possible. My elderly neighbor isn't getting any younger and it's my sworn duty to make sure he's a happy peeper.
Did I tell you I got a new foster pup? Just one - he's a giant of a pup and still hasn't figured out how to place his big clumsy paws in the right place. He's a Neapolitan Mastiff - a real beauty, about 9 months old. His people gave him to the animal rescue society because they claim they didn't know he would grow to be the size of a pony. He's pushing 160 lbs. and has a ways to go. I'm giving serious thought to buying a saddle for him. His name was "Dawg." Tsk. I've renamed him Hadrian - an ancient Roman name - and the birthplace of his breed. His favorite activities are eating and sleeping - ergo! The cats adore him.
A group of friends sent one of those email surveys. It was a fun survey and one of the questions was: Did you ever milk a cow?
Yes, I did but as I told my friends, the cow wasn't very happy about it. It kept turning its head and muttering ugly words in my direction. I told Cowboy I must have pinched something wrong. On the other hand, it might have been one of those boy cows and this city girl shouldn't have been pinching anything. A similar thing happened when I tried to milk a goat. Needless to say the Neanderthal I live with continues to tease me about this.
Just for that... I'm stripping and going out to the backyard to dance!
~Sar~
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Just in case... mea culpa!
The giant squid left me alone! For a whole week! Seven days and nights all by myself. It was just plain awful! When he was at sea for months on end, I missed him like crazy but did my own thing without the worry of getting caught. Sure, there were a few sailors and marines always dropping by to make sure I hadn't been arrested for anything... and if they hovered too much, I always sent them home with my special brownies...
But just seven days to do whatever I wanted to do and still clean up the evidence before you-know-who got home? No telling if he'd finish his business early - catch an early flight home - I was almost a wreck!
So... just to give myself a little insurance I cooked and baked like Martha Stewart was coming to visit and made all his favorites. This way, if he says.... "Sar......" which generally means something has made him suspicious of behavior he attributes to me... Oh yeah, sure, why not! Just blame everything on me! Tsk. So misunderstood. You'd think after being married for a gazillion years he'd know better than to lay blame at my door. Guilty or not, he should know better.
Double tsk.
While he was away I made an extraordinary attempt to eat a veggie and fruit breakfast EVERY day! I'm so good I can't stand myself.
The pups and I had CARROT cake and STRAWBERRY milkshakes every morning. I'm telling ya... filled us right up and we didn't have to eat again until mid morning! We ran/walked briskly/ran every day after breakfast, collected a few interesting pieces of driftwood and seaweed which I am using to decorate David's deck. I put air plants in the driftwood but the turtle decided they were a tasty treat and she ate them. I didn't want her to be nutrition deprived so I threw in some green uglies from the fridge. Now I can honestly tell the giant squid that I didn't toss them in the garbage.
"Make sure those veggies are consumed before I get home, imp."
"You betcha!"
SWAT!
Tsk.
A neighbor came over to cry on my shoulder yesterday. Nice lady, attractive, mid-40's, s-p-o-i-l-e-d. She complained all afternoon that her husband doesn't pay enough attention to her. According to her, he spends most of his time at the office or playing golf and begrudges her constant spending...
"Does he abuse you?"
"No," she said.
"Does he put you down in front of others? Embarrass you?"
"No."
"Does he spend his paycheck on other women? Items you can't afford? Drink it at the local bar? Take unexplainable trips?"
"No, no, no, and no."
"Do you give him plenty of attention when he's home?"
"No! Whatever for?"
Beats me...
I have a hard time listening to folks who put their lovers/husbands/boyfriends down. I'm not saying that there aren't bumps in the road in any relationship; I'm just saying I have a hard time listening to someone who wants me to think less of the most important person in their lives.
"You chose this man, right?" I asked the woman who had been married since the wheel was invented.
"Yes, I did," she agreed. "Whatever was I thinking?"
Indeed...
Before Cowboy left he reminded me that he didn't want any surprises when he got home.
"What kind of surprises?"
"No more pets, imp. That damn turtle is bad enough."
"The turtle is staying here with David when we go home," I assured him. I was thinking more along the lines of a giraffe or an alpaca," I told him. "You know how I love those creatures."
"You will NOT adopt a giraffe or an alpaca," he growled.
"Okay, how about a Maine Coon cat? I saw one at the local shelter and they have these unbelievably beautiful tails and..."
"You bring that cat home and let me tell you how unbelievably beautiful your tail's gonna look when I turn it a brilliant shade of red, bambina."
SWAT!
Tsk.
I waited a day... then I returned the call from the local animal rescue organization. They had a Neapolitan mastiff they needed to foster. Sweet boy grew too big and somebody dropped him off at the animal shelter. Cowboy said no giraffes, no alpacas and no Maine Coon cats. He didn't say anything about a Neo...
Did I mention how good I've been? I'll try to keep the 150-lb. Neo under wraps until the giant squid has eaten his favorite braciole and consumed several big helpings of peach cobbler.
And... just in case... it couldn't hurt if you lit a candle for me.
~Sar~
But just seven days to do whatever I wanted to do and still clean up the evidence before you-know-who got home? No telling if he'd finish his business early - catch an early flight home - I was almost a wreck!
So... just to give myself a little insurance I cooked and baked like Martha Stewart was coming to visit and made all his favorites. This way, if he says.... "Sar......" which generally means something has made him suspicious of behavior he attributes to me... Oh yeah, sure, why not! Just blame everything on me! Tsk. So misunderstood. You'd think after being married for a gazillion years he'd know better than to lay blame at my door. Guilty or not, he should know better.
Double tsk.
While he was away I made an extraordinary attempt to eat a veggie and fruit breakfast EVERY day! I'm so good I can't stand myself.
The pups and I had CARROT cake and STRAWBERRY milkshakes every morning. I'm telling ya... filled us right up and we didn't have to eat again until mid morning! We ran/walked briskly/ran every day after breakfast, collected a few interesting pieces of driftwood and seaweed which I am using to decorate David's deck. I put air plants in the driftwood but the turtle decided they were a tasty treat and she ate them. I didn't want her to be nutrition deprived so I threw in some green uglies from the fridge. Now I can honestly tell the giant squid that I didn't toss them in the garbage.
"Make sure those veggies are consumed before I get home, imp."
"You betcha!"
SWAT!
Tsk.
A neighbor came over to cry on my shoulder yesterday. Nice lady, attractive, mid-40's, s-p-o-i-l-e-d. She complained all afternoon that her husband doesn't pay enough attention to her. According to her, he spends most of his time at the office or playing golf and begrudges her constant spending...
"Does he abuse you?"
"No," she said.
"Does he put you down in front of others? Embarrass you?"
"No."
"Does he spend his paycheck on other women? Items you can't afford? Drink it at the local bar? Take unexplainable trips?"
"No, no, no, and no."
"Do you give him plenty of attention when he's home?"
"No! Whatever for?"
Beats me...
I have a hard time listening to folks who put their lovers/husbands/boyfriends down. I'm not saying that there aren't bumps in the road in any relationship; I'm just saying I have a hard time listening to someone who wants me to think less of the most important person in their lives.
"You chose this man, right?" I asked the woman who had been married since the wheel was invented.
"Yes, I did," she agreed. "Whatever was I thinking?"
Indeed...
Before Cowboy left he reminded me that he didn't want any surprises when he got home.
"What kind of surprises?"
"No more pets, imp. That damn turtle is bad enough."
"The turtle is staying here with David when we go home," I assured him. I was thinking more along the lines of a giraffe or an alpaca," I told him. "You know how I love those creatures."
"You will NOT adopt a giraffe or an alpaca," he growled.
"Okay, how about a Maine Coon cat? I saw one at the local shelter and they have these unbelievably beautiful tails and..."
"You bring that cat home and let me tell you how unbelievably beautiful your tail's gonna look when I turn it a brilliant shade of red, bambina."
SWAT!
Tsk.
I waited a day... then I returned the call from the local animal rescue organization. They had a Neapolitan mastiff they needed to foster. Sweet boy grew too big and somebody dropped him off at the animal shelter. Cowboy said no giraffes, no alpacas and no Maine Coon cats. He didn't say anything about a Neo...
Did I mention how good I've been? I'll try to keep the 150-lb. Neo under wraps until the giant squid has eaten his favorite braciole and consumed several big helpings of peach cobbler.
And... just in case... it couldn't hurt if you lit a candle for me.
~Sar~
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Mata Hari, Jerks R Us and Turtles
Before I give my version of the sordid affair... let me just say that I truly am a lady. It just about killed me but I didn't murder or maim someone who really truly deserved maiming and then DEATH!
"You're overreacting, bambina." Guess who said that.
Cast of Characters:
The Giant Squid - Innocent Sar - Interloper, female, Mati Hari reincarnated.
Scene: We're still at David's house. He's still away. I'm sitting on the deck with the pups, brushing Archie the ancient bloodhound who is making kinky noises through his nose because he knows there's a Twinkie in my pocket with his name on it. I look up when all three Rotts get to their feet and give the "someone's coming and I don't know who" stare. BullyBoy snores through it because he's still feeling sorry for himself that he's on the wagon.
"Hi!" Miss Perky yells as she approaches the deck from the ocean side... (which means she walked alll around the house. Hmmm. A peeping Thomasina?)
"I'm Lt. SassyPants." (I gave her that name. Her mama probably named her Athena or some other gawd awful Mt. Olympus moniker.) "You must be the little woman."
Excuse me while I gag.
"Is the Admiral home?" she asks, batting her eyelashes which is a move that is completely lost on me as well as the Rotts who realize she has NO food in her pockets.
"No," I say in all honesty because Cowboy and I are not at home. We're at David's house.
"Oh," Miss Little Disappointment pouts. "And I came all this way to see him."
"I'll tell him you were here."
"Hello, what are you doing here, Lieutenant?" the Neanderthal asks as he comes to the door and steps all over my lines.
"Oh Admiral!" Mati Hari gushes as she bats her eyelashes so rapidly it makes me think this is a commercial for eye drops.
"I was in the area and thought I'd just drop in and say hi," Miss No-Sense-of-Geography-or-Protocol improvises. "You... um... look so different in mufti." (mufti = civilian dress) Gushing smiles and more eyelash batting follows.
She was just in the area? She knows where David lives? Hmmm... very interesting. I could have sworn he was attracted to bimbos and floozies, not lieutenants in the Navy. Will keep this scuttlebutt to myself in case I need it for ammunition at a later date.
Lt. SassyPants cannot take her eyes off the giant squid who just finished a 90-minute workout and is attired in a sleeveless cut-off T-shirt and running shorts...
I'm thinking I should offer our unexpected guest some libation and a snack. How does fresh squeezed grass root sound? Maybe a side of Brussels Sprouts and fiddleheads to fill her up?
"You were in the area, Lieutenant?" Cowboy's voice of command - which means this visit has him irritated - makes the pups get closer to me in case I need protection, but his words are directed at the idiot who has invaded his personal life without justification. So I just smiled.
The woman stammers a response and because I'm such a supportive spouse, I assured her that her visit was just fine. "You're the third or fourth lady to visit us this week," I tell her. "My husband's female subordinates just can't get enough of him."
"Sar..." This is said sotto voce but I heard it. Oh well, living dangerously isn't exactly news around here.
Unfortunately, she left before I could inflict any real damage. I thought about sic-ing Tank on her but the big pup had already eaten his main meal.
***
On a story site I frequent, someone posted a story about a gal who snowboards dangerously. The "hero" doesn't know her but on their first date he spanks her, then applies his belt numerous times. Obviously he passed a graduate course in I'm A Disgusting Jerk and is an honorary member of Creatures that Need a Tune-up on Courtship Behavior.
There should be warnings posted on stories like that. I need Twinkies to fortify me before I'm subjected to sheer stupidity. It was well written but gimme a break. As soon as I read the romantic story - NOT - I yelled FUNGOOCH! Cut off his balls!
As usual my timing was impeccable. Just as soon as I mentioned castration, Cowboy walked into the room. Not the most perfect statement I ever made in his presence...
"Lunch?" I asked, figuring lack of food was a good explanation for my outburst. Don't want to give him ideas about paddles, belts etc. He doesn't really need any incentive...
We had a HUGE lunch which really wore me out so when everything was put away, I had a snack to recuperate. I was so energized... how energized were you? VERY. I attacked the giant squid and it was a lovely afternoon.
***
Tank, my inquisitive Rott, likes to scout the beach just ahead of the rest of us while we're jogging. Cowboy had paperwork to attend to so all 5 dogs and I went for a run. I look up and realize Tank is running in the sand dunes instead of on the beach and I call him to me. He looks up, stays where he is and barks a "Look what I found!"
We meander over and see a fairly large turtle at his feet. Large, of course, is a relative term but in this case, we're not talking turtle tank size. This behemoth - on the bathroom scale - weighed in at 11 lbs.
Oh my, I thought. What a great present for David...
Tank pushes and drags turtle home. I help it up the steps to the deck. It is hiding in its shell house of course but that doesn't deter me or Tank.
I immediately named it Ashley. Cowboy sees it and immediately renames it "Get Rid Of It!"
I wanted to call it Ashley Yertle Myrtle Turtle the Third but was informed by a 9-year old friend that Myrtle is very ordinary and Yertle is "soooo yesterday..." so it's just Ashley.
Cowboy, the spoilsport emails David that there's a giant turtle living on his deck. David emails back "GOOD GOD!"
I informed Ashley that GOOD GOD was a much nicer name than GET RID OF IT!
So far, the ancient creature has eaten allll the green uglies in the fridge as well as two Twinkies. The cats are taking turns sleeping on top of her shell house and BullyBoy, who is the official greeter, licked her face to welcome her to our nuthouse. Ashley retreated into her shell and hasn't been seen since. Probably his beer breath...
Cowboy had to fly east for a few days. The downside is that I miss him like crazy but the upside is that the pups and I get to eat real food while he's away and stay up all night to play on the computer.
"I expect you to eat right and get plenty of rest while I'm gone, bambina."
"Uh huh."
"I mean it, Sar. And no 10-mile runs while I'm away."
"Uh huh."
SWAT!
Tsk.
The pups and I waved bye-bye and went for a run... Then we had a mac & cheese orgy... Then we took a nap. Okay - I got the nap part right.
~Sar~
"You're overreacting, bambina." Guess who said that.
Cast of Characters:
The Giant Squid - Innocent Sar - Interloper, female, Mati Hari reincarnated.
Scene: We're still at David's house. He's still away. I'm sitting on the deck with the pups, brushing Archie the ancient bloodhound who is making kinky noises through his nose because he knows there's a Twinkie in my pocket with his name on it. I look up when all three Rotts get to their feet and give the "someone's coming and I don't know who" stare. BullyBoy snores through it because he's still feeling sorry for himself that he's on the wagon.
"Hi!" Miss Perky yells as she approaches the deck from the ocean side... (which means she walked alll around the house. Hmmm. A peeping Thomasina?)
"I'm Lt. SassyPants." (I gave her that name. Her mama probably named her Athena or some other gawd awful Mt. Olympus moniker.) "You must be the little woman."
Excuse me while I gag.
"Is the Admiral home?" she asks, batting her eyelashes which is a move that is completely lost on me as well as the Rotts who realize she has NO food in her pockets.
"No," I say in all honesty because Cowboy and I are not at home. We're at David's house.
"Oh," Miss Little Disappointment pouts. "And I came all this way to see him."
"I'll tell him you were here."
"Hello, what are you doing here, Lieutenant?" the Neanderthal asks as he comes to the door and steps all over my lines.
"Oh Admiral!" Mati Hari gushes as she bats her eyelashes so rapidly it makes me think this is a commercial for eye drops.
"I was in the area and thought I'd just drop in and say hi," Miss No-Sense-of-Geography-or-Protocol improvises. "You... um... look so different in mufti." (mufti = civilian dress) Gushing smiles and more eyelash batting follows.
She was just in the area? She knows where David lives? Hmmm... very interesting. I could have sworn he was attracted to bimbos and floozies, not lieutenants in the Navy. Will keep this scuttlebutt to myself in case I need it for ammunition at a later date.
Lt. SassyPants cannot take her eyes off the giant squid who just finished a 90-minute workout and is attired in a sleeveless cut-off T-shirt and running shorts...
I'm thinking I should offer our unexpected guest some libation and a snack. How does fresh squeezed grass root sound? Maybe a side of Brussels Sprouts and fiddleheads to fill her up?
"You were in the area, Lieutenant?" Cowboy's voice of command - which means this visit has him irritated - makes the pups get closer to me in case I need protection, but his words are directed at the idiot who has invaded his personal life without justification. So I just smiled.
The woman stammers a response and because I'm such a supportive spouse, I assured her that her visit was just fine. "You're the third or fourth lady to visit us this week," I tell her. "My husband's female subordinates just can't get enough of him."
"Sar..." This is said sotto voce but I heard it. Oh well, living dangerously isn't exactly news around here.
Unfortunately, she left before I could inflict any real damage. I thought about sic-ing Tank on her but the big pup had already eaten his main meal.
***
On a story site I frequent, someone posted a story about a gal who snowboards dangerously. The "hero" doesn't know her but on their first date he spanks her, then applies his belt numerous times. Obviously he passed a graduate course in I'm A Disgusting Jerk and is an honorary member of Creatures that Need a Tune-up on Courtship Behavior.
There should be warnings posted on stories like that. I need Twinkies to fortify me before I'm subjected to sheer stupidity. It was well written but gimme a break. As soon as I read the romantic story - NOT - I yelled FUNGOOCH! Cut off his balls!
As usual my timing was impeccable. Just as soon as I mentioned castration, Cowboy walked into the room. Not the most perfect statement I ever made in his presence...
"Lunch?" I asked, figuring lack of food was a good explanation for my outburst. Don't want to give him ideas about paddles, belts etc. He doesn't really need any incentive...
We had a HUGE lunch which really wore me out so when everything was put away, I had a snack to recuperate. I was so energized... how energized were you? VERY. I attacked the giant squid and it was a lovely afternoon.
***
Tank, my inquisitive Rott, likes to scout the beach just ahead of the rest of us while we're jogging. Cowboy had paperwork to attend to so all 5 dogs and I went for a run. I look up and realize Tank is running in the sand dunes instead of on the beach and I call him to me. He looks up, stays where he is and barks a "Look what I found!"
We meander over and see a fairly large turtle at his feet. Large, of course, is a relative term but in this case, we're not talking turtle tank size. This behemoth - on the bathroom scale - weighed in at 11 lbs.
Oh my, I thought. What a great present for David...
Tank pushes and drags turtle home. I help it up the steps to the deck. It is hiding in its shell house of course but that doesn't deter me or Tank.
I immediately named it Ashley. Cowboy sees it and immediately renames it "Get Rid Of It!"
I wanted to call it Ashley Yertle Myrtle Turtle the Third but was informed by a 9-year old friend that Myrtle is very ordinary and Yertle is "soooo yesterday..." so it's just Ashley.
Cowboy, the spoilsport emails David that there's a giant turtle living on his deck. David emails back "GOOD GOD!"
I informed Ashley that GOOD GOD was a much nicer name than GET RID OF IT!
So far, the ancient creature has eaten allll the green uglies in the fridge as well as two Twinkies. The cats are taking turns sleeping on top of her shell house and BullyBoy, who is the official greeter, licked her face to welcome her to our nuthouse. Ashley retreated into her shell and hasn't been seen since. Probably his beer breath...
Cowboy had to fly east for a few days. The downside is that I miss him like crazy but the upside is that the pups and I get to eat real food while he's away and stay up all night to play on the computer.
"I expect you to eat right and get plenty of rest while I'm gone, bambina."
"Uh huh."
"I mean it, Sar. And no 10-mile runs while I'm away."
"Uh huh."
SWAT!
Tsk.
The pups and I waved bye-bye and went for a run... Then we had a mac & cheese orgy... Then we took a nap. Okay - I got the nap part right.
~Sar~
Sunday, March 11, 2007
DST & Chocolate Bunny Ears
The pits! I am not at all fond of daylight savings time. I don't have to be anywhere at 0-dark-thirty but it sets all the schedules off. No one in the house - except the dogs - are ready to eat early. The cats hide under the bed because when food is put out earlier than usual they get suspicious that we're leaving them. On the other end, in the Fall, when we change back, the animals are grumbling and hissing that dinner is LATE! I wish they'd fix the time one way or the other and just leave it.
We may have to move to Arizona where they don't observe this nonsense.
I'm fit as a fiddle! I'm even jogging with the giant squid. He runs 10 miles every day and I've always done 5 miles with him. Right now, he's pacing me... rolling m'eyes... as if I were training for a marathon. TSK! He wants me to stop at 3 miles.
Uh huh. Sure.
So... he had to go to the base unexpectedly the other day and said not to overdo it. Right!
The pups and I took off like demons were chasing us... another polite term for marines. And we ran to the 5 mile post. Then it occurred to me that we were 5 miles from home... I walked briskly back... then got a second wind and took off like a surface-to-air missile. The pups were panting but I was exhilarated from the run.
Jumped in a hot shower and then we had a food orgy. I grilled a huge stack of Monte Cristo sandwiches - brie and cheddar on homemade tomato/cheese bread with a thick slice of ham in the middle and smoked bacon on top. Two for me, 2 for each of the pups, 1/2 each for the cats. Strawberry praline milkshakes for me and the pups and cream for the cats. 'Twas absolutely fabulous!
The giant squid came home in the middle of our orgy and I quickly made 3 more sandwiches for him. The uncouth squid drank beer.
SWAT!
Tsk.
The sandwiches were so good he didn't even ask how far I ran... Later that night I told him how good I was feeling.
"Good news, bambina but if you run that distance again, I'll make sure sitting becomes uncomfortable for you until Christmas."
OKAY! Which one of YOU squealed?
Someone was telling me how amazing my pups are. Naturally I'm proud of their skills but all dogs respond to consistent training. The animals love to please the people they love and love the attention they get; it's the owners that really need to learn what to do and to be diligent. And a little attention to any living creature goes a long way.
Okay, jumping off my soapbox.
The squid was thinking of throwing a St. Paddy's Day party but I put the kibosh on that idea. He wanted me to serve GREEN things! Errr... green icing on cake - that's okay. Green icing on cookies - that's okay. Green M&Ms and green jelly beans - all okay. Green beer - sure, what do I care? I don't drink beer but...
A GREEN buffet before the get-together? Green veggies? The only real edibles would be olives and pickles and maybe, avocados.
"You could stuff some good cheese spread onto celery stalks."
Celery? Egads! Celery is only good for ONE thing - decorating a Bloody Mary.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"How about raw vegetables with a great dip. I like that cream cheese spinach dip you make."
SHOOT ME NOW!
SWAT!
Tsk.
"And that green chowder you make with clams. That'd be good, too."
Waste my scrumptious chowder on a bunch of louts drunk on green beer? I don't think so.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"Let's have a Spring-like Easter party instead," I suggested. "Chocolate bunnies and an egg hunt and birthday cake icing in individual servings so everyone can lick the stuff out of their own bowl. And jelly beans everywhere!"
"Only if you swear not to eat the ears off all the bunnies."
"I don't swear."
SWAT!
Tsk.
But I'm good at eating chocolate bunny ears. It's what I do.
"I'll get the baskets next time I go shopping. Easter baskets for everyone. That'll be fun! How many do you think we should invite?"
"No more than 20."
FORTY chocolate bunny ears! YESSSS!
"I can't wait."
SWAT!
"What's that for?"
"For whatever you're thinking."
Tsk.
~Sar~
We may have to move to Arizona where they don't observe this nonsense.
I'm fit as a fiddle! I'm even jogging with the giant squid. He runs 10 miles every day and I've always done 5 miles with him. Right now, he's pacing me... rolling m'eyes... as if I were training for a marathon. TSK! He wants me to stop at 3 miles.
Uh huh. Sure.
So... he had to go to the base unexpectedly the other day and said not to overdo it. Right!
The pups and I took off like demons were chasing us... another polite term for marines. And we ran to the 5 mile post. Then it occurred to me that we were 5 miles from home... I walked briskly back... then got a second wind and took off like a surface-to-air missile. The pups were panting but I was exhilarated from the run.
Jumped in a hot shower and then we had a food orgy. I grilled a huge stack of Monte Cristo sandwiches - brie and cheddar on homemade tomato/cheese bread with a thick slice of ham in the middle and smoked bacon on top. Two for me, 2 for each of the pups, 1/2 each for the cats. Strawberry praline milkshakes for me and the pups and cream for the cats. 'Twas absolutely fabulous!
The giant squid came home in the middle of our orgy and I quickly made 3 more sandwiches for him. The uncouth squid drank beer.
SWAT!
Tsk.
The sandwiches were so good he didn't even ask how far I ran... Later that night I told him how good I was feeling.
"Good news, bambina but if you run that distance again, I'll make sure sitting becomes uncomfortable for you until Christmas."
OKAY! Which one of YOU squealed?
Someone was telling me how amazing my pups are. Naturally I'm proud of their skills but all dogs respond to consistent training. The animals love to please the people they love and love the attention they get; it's the owners that really need to learn what to do and to be diligent. And a little attention to any living creature goes a long way.
Okay, jumping off my soapbox.
The squid was thinking of throwing a St. Paddy's Day party but I put the kibosh on that idea. He wanted me to serve GREEN things! Errr... green icing on cake - that's okay. Green icing on cookies - that's okay. Green M&Ms and green jelly beans - all okay. Green beer - sure, what do I care? I don't drink beer but...
A GREEN buffet before the get-together? Green veggies? The only real edibles would be olives and pickles and maybe, avocados.
"You could stuff some good cheese spread onto celery stalks."
Celery? Egads! Celery is only good for ONE thing - decorating a Bloody Mary.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"How about raw vegetables with a great dip. I like that cream cheese spinach dip you make."
SHOOT ME NOW!
SWAT!
Tsk.
"And that green chowder you make with clams. That'd be good, too."
Waste my scrumptious chowder on a bunch of louts drunk on green beer? I don't think so.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"Let's have a Spring-like Easter party instead," I suggested. "Chocolate bunnies and an egg hunt and birthday cake icing in individual servings so everyone can lick the stuff out of their own bowl. And jelly beans everywhere!"
"Only if you swear not to eat the ears off all the bunnies."
"I don't swear."
SWAT!
Tsk.
But I'm good at eating chocolate bunny ears. It's what I do.
"I'll get the baskets next time I go shopping. Easter baskets for everyone. That'll be fun! How many do you think we should invite?"
"No more than 20."
FORTY chocolate bunny ears! YESSSS!
"I can't wait."
SWAT!
"What's that for?"
"For whatever you're thinking."
Tsk.
~Sar~
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Gotta be ME!
Just gotta be ME! I'm not sure where that song came from, might have been "The Unsinkable Molly Brown." On second thought, I think Sammy Davis Jr. sang it.
Thanks for all the prayers, positive thoughts, emails and electronic cards. They really boosted my spirits! (Didn't do anything for the medics but did wonders for me.) *SMILES*
Regardless of Cowboy's tattle tales... my stay at the base hospital was completely uneventful. I only did what comes natural and I'm positive no one expected this stay to be different from any in the past. I did hear from one of the nurses that the chief medical officer at Bethesda Naval Hospital emailed a note of appreciation that they didn't send me East for the surgery. I'm sure she made that up.
We're staying at a friend's home - David, the jarhead - in the San Juans. He's overseas at the moment and might not be back before the end of March. He knows we're here and emails regularly to see if we're taking care of his fresh water aquarium and whether or not I've found his stash of chocolate. I found it the very first day we were here. Of course I ate it.
Ohhhhh GOOD NEWS! The doc said no roughage for a while. Cowboy interprets that to mean a couple of weeks. I interpret it to mean a couple of years.
There was a news blurb on TV about the biggest squid ever caught... Honestly people. I caught the biggest squid when I was young and foolish and attracted to a guy willing to buy me cheesecake and steak. Little did I know that when he spanks, it's as if allllll those tentacles were smacking at the same time.
"Would you have thrown me back in the ocean if you knew then what you know now, bambina?"
"Hmmm... let me think."
SWAT!
I told Cowboy I want to go to Thailand in April. That's when they celebrate their New Year and to do that... they wander the streets with water pails, water guns and bowls and drench each other. MY KIND OF HOLIDAY! My water guns are filled with red paint but I'm sure it's the thought that counts. And Thai food is glorious! Cowboy wasn't as enthusiastic about the idea. He mumbled things about international amnesty, elephants in the street and Bali dancers. (I think he's a little antsy during my recovery and hitting the Merlot too often.)
SWAT!
Tsk.
An update on the foster pups: We brought all of them out to the island with us. Just before I went into the hospital, each military vet who adopted one of the dogs came out and we had a couple of really good training sessions. All the dogs went to great homes and all will come back to visit when we return home. All the vets have families with children, which is wonderful for the pups. They'll get plenty of attention in addition to being service dogs. I got them past their obedience trials and each earned a "companion dog" license. A few days ago I heard that a specialist that trains service dogs is already working with them. I couldn't be more pleased.
I love the beach. Winter here is so different from summer. Today we had a brief hailstorm and some thick snowflakes came down unexpectedly. Watching that along with the incoming tide really drew me to the window. I opened it just a crack and could feel the dampness in the wind. It was chilly but I knew if I bundled up I could sit out on the deck for a few minutes and enjoy it.
"The hell you are!"
Tsk.
"An officer and a gentleman does not use rude language no matter the provocation," I reminded him.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"I don't think an officer and a gentleman swats the woman he loves either just because she's craving a little fresh air."
SWAT!
"You don't love me!"
Cowboy often looks toward the ceiling when I accuse him of not loving me. I look too in case the words he's looking for are printed there... Nope - no words there but after a few seconds, he makes ugly sounds and he clenches his fists. Then I get grabbed, hugged, swatted, and sometimes I grab his yummy stuff and he jumps... grabs me again, hugs, swats, and if I rub just the right way... the band warms up and plays on!
I'm almost back to fighting form. David has a birthday in May. Am thinking I should surprise him for his birthday... I have a few ideas as to how to do that but I'm open to suggestions...
~Sar~
Thanks for all the prayers, positive thoughts, emails and electronic cards. They really boosted my spirits! (Didn't do anything for the medics but did wonders for me.) *SMILES*
Regardless of Cowboy's tattle tales... my stay at the base hospital was completely uneventful. I only did what comes natural and I'm positive no one expected this stay to be different from any in the past. I did hear from one of the nurses that the chief medical officer at Bethesda Naval Hospital emailed a note of appreciation that they didn't send me East for the surgery. I'm sure she made that up.
We're staying at a friend's home - David, the jarhead - in the San Juans. He's overseas at the moment and might not be back before the end of March. He knows we're here and emails regularly to see if we're taking care of his fresh water aquarium and whether or not I've found his stash of chocolate. I found it the very first day we were here. Of course I ate it.
Ohhhhh GOOD NEWS! The doc said no roughage for a while. Cowboy interprets that to mean a couple of weeks. I interpret it to mean a couple of years.
There was a news blurb on TV about the biggest squid ever caught... Honestly people. I caught the biggest squid when I was young and foolish and attracted to a guy willing to buy me cheesecake and steak. Little did I know that when he spanks, it's as if allllll those tentacles were smacking at the same time.
"Would you have thrown me back in the ocean if you knew then what you know now, bambina?"
"Hmmm... let me think."
SWAT!
I told Cowboy I want to go to Thailand in April. That's when they celebrate their New Year and to do that... they wander the streets with water pails, water guns and bowls and drench each other. MY KIND OF HOLIDAY! My water guns are filled with red paint but I'm sure it's the thought that counts. And Thai food is glorious! Cowboy wasn't as enthusiastic about the idea. He mumbled things about international amnesty, elephants in the street and Bali dancers. (I think he's a little antsy during my recovery and hitting the Merlot too often.)
SWAT!
Tsk.
An update on the foster pups: We brought all of them out to the island with us. Just before I went into the hospital, each military vet who adopted one of the dogs came out and we had a couple of really good training sessions. All the dogs went to great homes and all will come back to visit when we return home. All the vets have families with children, which is wonderful for the pups. They'll get plenty of attention in addition to being service dogs. I got them past their obedience trials and each earned a "companion dog" license. A few days ago I heard that a specialist that trains service dogs is already working with them. I couldn't be more pleased.
I love the beach. Winter here is so different from summer. Today we had a brief hailstorm and some thick snowflakes came down unexpectedly. Watching that along with the incoming tide really drew me to the window. I opened it just a crack and could feel the dampness in the wind. It was chilly but I knew if I bundled up I could sit out on the deck for a few minutes and enjoy it.
"The hell you are!"
Tsk.
"An officer and a gentleman does not use rude language no matter the provocation," I reminded him.
SWAT!
Tsk.
"I don't think an officer and a gentleman swats the woman he loves either just because she's craving a little fresh air."
SWAT!
"You don't love me!"
Cowboy often looks toward the ceiling when I accuse him of not loving me. I look too in case the words he's looking for are printed there... Nope - no words there but after a few seconds, he makes ugly sounds and he clenches his fists. Then I get grabbed, hugged, swatted, and sometimes I grab his yummy stuff and he jumps... grabs me again, hugs, swats, and if I rub just the right way... the band warms up and plays on!
I'm almost back to fighting form. David has a birthday in May. Am thinking I should surprise him for his birthday... I have a few ideas as to how to do that but I'm open to suggestions...
~Sar~
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Mea Culpa
Cowboy here. Don't know what I'm atoning for but I'm sure the imp will fill me in any time now. I'm craving her of course but some peach cobbler as well. I'll atone just about any way she wants if I can have both. :)
Surgery was Monday. It went well. Didn't take them long to do what needed doing. Anesthesia pretty much wiped her out the way it has in the past. She went into ICU right after surgery and stayed until early Tuesday evening. Once she woke up she wanted out of there. I went in - told her we had to wait until the doc gave the ok and he wasn't due in till the next morning.
20+ years! But when it comes to my wife I'm still about as naive as a newborn babe! Sar didn't rant or yell about staying in the ICU. She was calm, spoke softly, smiled at me. I should have realized this was out of character but the smile sent me reeling - lost my common sense, kissed her and merrily went on my way saying I'd be back in a couple of hours.
Long story short: I'm guessing here. Knowing she was fully awake, the nurses probably didn't check her every 15 minutes. The great great grandchild of Houdini disconnected all the medical lines/tubes etc from her body, tied knots in the lines so nothing leaked on the floor, climbed over the bed railing and walked out of the ICU. No one saw her? That's my girl!
They found my escape artist leaning on a wall outside her hospital room trying to catch a breath. Am I the only one that's out of the loop here? The nurse helped her into pj's and into bed. I arrived to find her drinking a milkshake. Got to wonder what she promised the nurse-- probably forge my name to get the woman posted to some island paradise.
I didn't bother to yell. She wanted to know why I didn't bring the pups around. I said a few mea culpas for what I was thinking about doing but then she grabbed my hand and offered to share her milkshake. I figured she's well enough to get out of ICU by herself, she's well enough for a few hugs. I held her on my lap. Couldn't help mentioning how idiotic that was to leave the ICU, how I'm going to toast that little tush as soon as she's completely well again and how I'm going to love her the minute those stitches dissolve.
She said you're not gonna be overbearing are you?
Hell yes!
I take her home tonight or sometime tomorrow. She's fine. I'm grateful and I thank you for all the emails and cards.
Cowboy
Surgery was Monday. It went well. Didn't take them long to do what needed doing. Anesthesia pretty much wiped her out the way it has in the past. She went into ICU right after surgery and stayed until early Tuesday evening. Once she woke up she wanted out of there. I went in - told her we had to wait until the doc gave the ok and he wasn't due in till the next morning.
20+ years! But when it comes to my wife I'm still about as naive as a newborn babe! Sar didn't rant or yell about staying in the ICU. She was calm, spoke softly, smiled at me. I should have realized this was out of character but the smile sent me reeling - lost my common sense, kissed her and merrily went on my way saying I'd be back in a couple of hours.
Long story short: I'm guessing here. Knowing she was fully awake, the nurses probably didn't check her every 15 minutes. The great great grandchild of Houdini disconnected all the medical lines/tubes etc from her body, tied knots in the lines so nothing leaked on the floor, climbed over the bed railing and walked out of the ICU. No one saw her? That's my girl!
They found my escape artist leaning on a wall outside her hospital room trying to catch a breath. Am I the only one that's out of the loop here? The nurse helped her into pj's and into bed. I arrived to find her drinking a milkshake. Got to wonder what she promised the nurse-- probably forge my name to get the woman posted to some island paradise.
I didn't bother to yell. She wanted to know why I didn't bring the pups around. I said a few mea culpas for what I was thinking about doing but then she grabbed my hand and offered to share her milkshake. I figured she's well enough to get out of ICU by herself, she's well enough for a few hugs. I held her on my lap. Couldn't help mentioning how idiotic that was to leave the ICU, how I'm going to toast that little tush as soon as she's completely well again and how I'm going to love her the minute those stitches dissolve.
She said you're not gonna be overbearing are you?
Hell yes!
I take her home tonight or sometime tomorrow. She's fine. I'm grateful and I thank you for all the emails and cards.
Cowboy
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Update on the Imp
Cowboy here. Things turned a bit complicated. Sar's having surgery in the morning. I'll explain. The "flu" cough, chest, wheezing thing turned into something akin to pneumonia - a very mild case - but still pneumonia. A couple rounds of antibiotics pretty much cleared it up. Left her on the weak side but no lasting side effects.
The stomach flu - after a few tests - wasn't flu at all but a slight obstruction in the intestinal tract. Not a complete obstruction - a slight one - which is why she's having surgery. Better to take care of it now before it gets worse. Sar's had surgery in that area in the past - told the doc to "slice me open in the same place. No more scars!" That's my bambina. In fact, the incision is a very small one. The scar will fade.
The only concern we have is the anesthesia. Sar is highly sensitive to it and generally goes into ICU for a couple days to make sure there's no lasting side effects from it before they discharge her. The last time this happened, the imp gave them a run for their money. They were bit flabbergasted when a pizza was delivered to the ICU. Have yet to figure out how she got hold of a phone.
Damage report to date:
- She "escaped" TWICE! A marine MP caught her the first time and picked her up in a fireman's hold. Mistake. Sar pushed the pressure point behind his ear and simultaneously pushed the one in his collarbone. He dropped. She took off but the medics caught her when she ran out of steam. I caught her outside the ER showing up expectedly. A firm swat, those busy hands caught between us and she was back in bed.
- The oral antibiotics wouldn't stay down. I had to hold her down so the doc could administer a shot. She managed to land a few solid kicks on the guy. He limped out of there. There were a few choice words for me but nothing I haven't heard before. I'm kinda fond of having been "spawned from an armpit."
- The mastiff was visiting during lunch time. According to Sar, the offering consisted of apple juice, mystery meat, jello and some other mysterious thing. She gave it to the dog to sniff. The animal sneezed on it. This assured the imp it wasn't edible. Sar doesn't drink juice but food was a necessity so I commissioned the commissary cook to make hot cereal for her. That was acceptable. She's been subsisting on cereal, milkshakes, soft boiled eggs and God help me - chocolate and Twinkies.
Final notes: The nurses and orderlies adore my wife. She remembers their names and personal details. In return for favors, promises to bake pies for them. They generally do what she asks. Docs: they have to keep their distance unless absolutely necessary. She says listening is just as easy from across the room - rolling m'eyes - get too close and she threatens ugly consequences. They tend to believe her.
I expect the imp to be home by the end of the week and maybe online before then.
Cowboy
The stomach flu - after a few tests - wasn't flu at all but a slight obstruction in the intestinal tract. Not a complete obstruction - a slight one - which is why she's having surgery. Better to take care of it now before it gets worse. Sar's had surgery in that area in the past - told the doc to "slice me open in the same place. No more scars!" That's my bambina. In fact, the incision is a very small one. The scar will fade.
The only concern we have is the anesthesia. Sar is highly sensitive to it and generally goes into ICU for a couple days to make sure there's no lasting side effects from it before they discharge her. The last time this happened, the imp gave them a run for their money. They were bit flabbergasted when a pizza was delivered to the ICU. Have yet to figure out how she got hold of a phone.
Damage report to date:
- She "escaped" TWICE! A marine MP caught her the first time and picked her up in a fireman's hold. Mistake. Sar pushed the pressure point behind his ear and simultaneously pushed the one in his collarbone. He dropped. She took off but the medics caught her when she ran out of steam. I caught her outside the ER showing up expectedly. A firm swat, those busy hands caught between us and she was back in bed.
- The oral antibiotics wouldn't stay down. I had to hold her down so the doc could administer a shot. She managed to land a few solid kicks on the guy. He limped out of there. There were a few choice words for me but nothing I haven't heard before. I'm kinda fond of having been "spawned from an armpit."
- The mastiff was visiting during lunch time. According to Sar, the offering consisted of apple juice, mystery meat, jello and some other mysterious thing. She gave it to the dog to sniff. The animal sneezed on it. This assured the imp it wasn't edible. Sar doesn't drink juice but food was a necessity so I commissioned the commissary cook to make hot cereal for her. That was acceptable. She's been subsisting on cereal, milkshakes, soft boiled eggs and God help me - chocolate and Twinkies.
Final notes: The nurses and orderlies adore my wife. She remembers their names and personal details. In return for favors, promises to bake pies for them. They generally do what she asks. Docs: they have to keep their distance unless absolutely necessary. She says listening is just as easy from across the room - rolling m'eyes - get too close and she threatens ugly consequences. They tend to believe her.
I expect the imp to be home by the end of the week and maybe online before then.
Cowboy
Thursday, February 15, 2007
More Flu
Cowboy here. Sorry to tell you the imp is in the hospital. She's had a bit of a fever - it came down with some aspirin - back up - but spiked in the early morning hours. I bundled her up and took her to the base hospital. The doc said he had a private room off the ER in case she made a fuss. The imp didn't fight me on this but that's only because she's feeling less than perfect. Once she's up and about the chances are the medics will start dropping like flies.
My personal opinion is that she never fully recuperated from the flu bugs. The upside is that they stabilized her temp, she's resting ok and is on a round of antibiotics. The downside is that the room is near an exit which means somebody has to be brave enough to make sure my little escape artist doesn't leave unexpectedly.
This is February. We have celebrated it in style but I don't want Sar to feel cheated because of this hospital stay so I think I will extend the celebration into March. I brought her 2 companion dogs over. The rott visited while the mastiff waited in the car for his turn. The rott gets a little crazy when Sar is sick. He whines his displeasure and remains agitated until he can rub his head against her cheek. The nurses aren't crazy about this maneuver - large dog on hospital bed - but it makes the imp happy. In my book that's all that matters. When the mastiff has a turn visiting, he stretches out next to her and makes comforting sounds. I could be jealous here but the fact is that both animals are bonded to my wife. For that I am grateful.
Most of the medics know my wife's reputation as the patient least likely to be called Miss Congeniality. I've reminded them not to touch her unless absolutely necessary. Sar is a stealth fighter. You'll never see a fist headed in your direction until you feel it. Add to that, she's a skilled kick boxer. Think about sedating her just to keep things calm or think about using restraints and you can kiss your butt as well as your career goodbye. The saying - Payback is a bitch - was coined just for Sar.
I expect to bring her home by the weekend. I've stocked up on chocolate, her favorite snacks and I'll make sure she takes it easy. Look for her back online in a few days.
Cowboy
My personal opinion is that she never fully recuperated from the flu bugs. The upside is that they stabilized her temp, she's resting ok and is on a round of antibiotics. The downside is that the room is near an exit which means somebody has to be brave enough to make sure my little escape artist doesn't leave unexpectedly.
This is February. We have celebrated it in style but I don't want Sar to feel cheated because of this hospital stay so I think I will extend the celebration into March. I brought her 2 companion dogs over. The rott visited while the mastiff waited in the car for his turn. The rott gets a little crazy when Sar is sick. He whines his displeasure and remains agitated until he can rub his head against her cheek. The nurses aren't crazy about this maneuver - large dog on hospital bed - but it makes the imp happy. In my book that's all that matters. When the mastiff has a turn visiting, he stretches out next to her and makes comforting sounds. I could be jealous here but the fact is that both animals are bonded to my wife. For that I am grateful.
Most of the medics know my wife's reputation as the patient least likely to be called Miss Congeniality. I've reminded them not to touch her unless absolutely necessary. Sar is a stealth fighter. You'll never see a fist headed in your direction until you feel it. Add to that, she's a skilled kick boxer. Think about sedating her just to keep things calm or think about using restraints and you can kiss your butt as well as your career goodbye. The saying - Payback is a bitch - was coined just for Sar.
I expect to bring her home by the weekend. I've stocked up on chocolate, her favorite snacks and I'll make sure she takes it easy. Look for her back online in a few days.
Cowboy
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
In and Out...
Of the Doghouse!
Of course, my doghouses - kennels - are better living spaces than a lot of folks have in third world countries... but I digress.
It seems that those flu bugs love me. The stomach thing and the upper respiratory thing got together and attacked me at the same time - AGAIN! I was doing just fine and then WHAM! Naturally, the giant squid morphed into medic mode and became overbearing...
After a day of (slightly) high fever, he dragged me to the base clinic ER to see a doctor who was totally clueless why other medics, upon seeing me dragged in the door, immediately signed transfer papers for outer Mongolia and/or were violently ill and had to leave.
There is an outer Mongolia, right?
I could tell he was ready to write an Rx for antibiotics, give the "take 2 aspirin, drink lots of fluids and call me in the morning" speech. Then he spotted Cowboy's stripes. Senior ranked Neanderthals make lesser ranked Cro-Magnum males a little nervous. He decided he needed to do a series of tests "just to be sure" and said he was admitting me to the hospital for an overnight - and possibly longer - stay.
My giant Neanderthal nodded agreement.
I was the epitome of sainthood! I said nothing but noted the medic's name, rank and asked his blood type.
"Sar..."
Tsk
"Why do you want to know my blood type?" Dr. Clueless wanted to know while nurses snickered behind his back.
"In case you need a donor," I smiled.
"Sar..."
Tsk
They weren't doing anything to me that night so when Cowboy went home to take care of the animals, I watched TV in the nurses' lounge and then played on their computer. The nurses love me; I always send snacks whenever I've been in their domain.
The next morning Cowboy called to say he had to go out of town. He had this trip planned but he got a phone call telling him he needed to be there earlier than expected.
Oh JOY!
I immediately dressed, walked out of the hospital, waved goodbye to the nurses who were laughing and caught a ride back to my neck of the woods. Got dropped off a few miles from home and because it was raining, I decided not to jog the rest of the way and called a neighbor who was happy to pick me up because she knew I'd take her out for brunch.
See how healthy I was! I didn't jog in the rain. Believe me, the temptation was great.
Cowboy called my cell phone and asked how I was.
"Just ducky."
"You okay, bambina?"
For now.
"Yep."
"You didn't hurt the doc, did you?"
"Nope, didn't lay a hand on him."
"Ahhhhh, now I know you really aren't feeling well," he said so solemnly.
Double tsk
The pups and I had a mac and cheese orgy and extra thick milkshakes for supper. It rained all day and I dragged a sleeping bag downstairs and made a fire and my pups and I snuggled in front of it.
It was a quiet and cozy evening until...
"Where the hell are you?" were the first words Cowboy said when I answered the phone.
Tsk
I don't talk to people who are rude or loud on the phone so I hung up.
He called back and in a much softer tone, said "Where the hell are you?"
Tsk - still rude so I hung up and turned my cell phone off.
He called back on the house phone.
"Don't you dare hang up on me!"
I dare.
We played telephone until he called, spoke softly, apologized for his rudeness and then quietly informed me that he called the doctor to learn the results of the tests, discovered I wasn't there etc. He continued in that soft tone and promised a very warm greeting when he returned...
I figured I had 4 days to play or 2 days to plan my escape. Belgium or Switzerland? Both have great sources of chocolate. I knew that wasn't going to work so I stayed home and made great meals. The pups and I ate LARGE - lots of steak and cheesecake and cracker jacks and Twinkies - my cure for whatever ails me. BullyBoy discovered Sam Adams beer and now he doesn't want to drink Budweiser. SweetPea concentrated on Cowboy's port. I have raised spoiled canines.
Giant squid showed up in the wee hours on Super Bowl day. Got a swat, a big hug and smooch, another swat and was informed a bunch of guys were coming over to watch the game.
Dogs and cats stole snacks from the various platters every time the guys jumped up to cheer or boo at a football thingmajig happening on the screen. I simply cannot get excited about grown men playing with footballs when there are so many other things they could be doing...
It's February! I'm feeling 100% perfect. Cowboy has not forgotten how important February is in our house and has delivered the goods - chocolate, lovin, more chocolate, more lovin and the occasional swat. If he keeps this routine going, I might break down and make something peachy.
~Sar~
Of course, my doghouses - kennels - are better living spaces than a lot of folks have in third world countries... but I digress.
It seems that those flu bugs love me. The stomach thing and the upper respiratory thing got together and attacked me at the same time - AGAIN! I was doing just fine and then WHAM! Naturally, the giant squid morphed into medic mode and became overbearing...
After a day of (slightly) high fever, he dragged me to the base clinic ER to see a doctor who was totally clueless why other medics, upon seeing me dragged in the door, immediately signed transfer papers for outer Mongolia and/or were violently ill and had to leave.
There is an outer Mongolia, right?
I could tell he was ready to write an Rx for antibiotics, give the "take 2 aspirin, drink lots of fluids and call me in the morning" speech. Then he spotted Cowboy's stripes. Senior ranked Neanderthals make lesser ranked Cro-Magnum males a little nervous. He decided he needed to do a series of tests "just to be sure" and said he was admitting me to the hospital for an overnight - and possibly longer - stay.
My giant Neanderthal nodded agreement.
I was the epitome of sainthood! I said nothing but noted the medic's name, rank and asked his blood type.
"Sar..."
Tsk
"Why do you want to know my blood type?" Dr. Clueless wanted to know while nurses snickered behind his back.
"In case you need a donor," I smiled.
"Sar..."
Tsk
They weren't doing anything to me that night so when Cowboy went home to take care of the animals, I watched TV in the nurses' lounge and then played on their computer. The nurses love me; I always send snacks whenever I've been in their domain.
The next morning Cowboy called to say he had to go out of town. He had this trip planned but he got a phone call telling him he needed to be there earlier than expected.
Oh JOY!
I immediately dressed, walked out of the hospital, waved goodbye to the nurses who were laughing and caught a ride back to my neck of the woods. Got dropped off a few miles from home and because it was raining, I decided not to jog the rest of the way and called a neighbor who was happy to pick me up because she knew I'd take her out for brunch.
See how healthy I was! I didn't jog in the rain. Believe me, the temptation was great.
Cowboy called my cell phone and asked how I was.
"Just ducky."
"You okay, bambina?"
For now.
"Yep."
"You didn't hurt the doc, did you?"
"Nope, didn't lay a hand on him."
"Ahhhhh, now I know you really aren't feeling well," he said so solemnly.
Double tsk
The pups and I had a mac and cheese orgy and extra thick milkshakes for supper. It rained all day and I dragged a sleeping bag downstairs and made a fire and my pups and I snuggled in front of it.
It was a quiet and cozy evening until...
"Where the hell are you?" were the first words Cowboy said when I answered the phone.
Tsk
I don't talk to people who are rude or loud on the phone so I hung up.
He called back and in a much softer tone, said "Where the hell are you?"
Tsk - still rude so I hung up and turned my cell phone off.
He called back on the house phone.
"Don't you dare hang up on me!"
I dare.
We played telephone until he called, spoke softly, apologized for his rudeness and then quietly informed me that he called the doctor to learn the results of the tests, discovered I wasn't there etc. He continued in that soft tone and promised a very warm greeting when he returned...
I figured I had 4 days to play or 2 days to plan my escape. Belgium or Switzerland? Both have great sources of chocolate. I knew that wasn't going to work so I stayed home and made great meals. The pups and I ate LARGE - lots of steak and cheesecake and cracker jacks and Twinkies - my cure for whatever ails me. BullyBoy discovered Sam Adams beer and now he doesn't want to drink Budweiser. SweetPea concentrated on Cowboy's port. I have raised spoiled canines.
Giant squid showed up in the wee hours on Super Bowl day. Got a swat, a big hug and smooch, another swat and was informed a bunch of guys were coming over to watch the game.
Dogs and cats stole snacks from the various platters every time the guys jumped up to cheer or boo at a football thingmajig happening on the screen. I simply cannot get excited about grown men playing with footballs when there are so many other things they could be doing...
It's February! I'm feeling 100% perfect. Cowboy has not forgotten how important February is in our house and has delivered the goods - chocolate, lovin, more chocolate, more lovin and the occasional swat. If he keeps this routine going, I might break down and make something peachy.
~Sar~
Saturday, January 27, 2007
The Time Has Come...
... the walrus said... to speak of other things.
Jeez Louise! On the one hand I love having the giant squid home. He cooks, orders take-out, cuddles and when he has work to do, settles me on the futon in my studio so my babies can get close enough for kissing. SweetPea and BullyBoy and I fit perfectly on the futon although BullyBoy's tail occasionally whacks the beejeebees out of SweetPea's hip which, in turn, makes the Rott mutter ugly words in his direction. This makes the giant Mastiff whimper which is just an act to get more attention. The old bloodhound sleeps on the rug and snores through the whole thing.
On the other hand, the giant squid is a bossy sort and more so when I'm not 100%. He still barks orders which I continue to ignore which tries his patience. Ha! You didn't know he had any! If he gets loud, BullyBoy stands on his hind legs and breathes lethal fumes in his face. Beer breath + doggie breath = near death. Even Navy Seals shudder at that combination. I use a lot of Binaca on that dog. Hmmm... maybe I should change the brand of beer he drinks.
So... the dominant cat in our house jumps on the futon and swats the Rott in the puss so the dog will make room for hefty 20-lb. cat. Rott says ugly word - cat hisses and spits - BullyBoy shoves both of them off the futon and I decide I'm feeling terrific and get dressed to go outside.
"Where do you think you're going, imp?" the direct descendant of Genghis Khan wants to know.
Egads! He's got eyes in the back of his head.
"I need some fresh air."
"You're gonna get some on your tush if you're not back in bed in the next five minutes, babe."
A moment of silence here as I try to come up with a witty retort.
"I've been house bound since forever," I announce, "and I'm about to climb the walls."
This is definitely not my wittiest retort.
"Three days is not forever," the anal retentive Neanderthal states. "Another day or two and you'll be much better and then you can go out."
This is supposed to make me feel better?
"Okey-dokey," I say agreeably and make a beeline for the back deck where my two outside Rotts are waiting. From there it's only a short run to the kennels where the foster pups can be released. I can play with them in the yard and the stodgy wanna-be medic in my house can simmer for a while. I know this because the phone rang - the line in his office - and that could take a while.
Oh JOY!
All the dogs get hugs and kisses and we play hide & seek and "catch me" in and around all the evergreens. Great fun and lots of tail wagging!
Until...
My tail... is suddenly way higher than it should be... over the giant squid's shoulder.
"Gotcha!"
Tsk!
Okay - short lived fun but worth it.
I know my face is a little flushed and my nose is cold but I have a feeling I'm gonna get warmed up soon. Not sure if I should be happy about this.
"What did I tell you?" he says as he meanders back to the house with ten dogs trailing us.
"You said something?" I ask in all innocence.
SWAT!
Tsk!
"You're going back to bed, imp."
Hooooo Boy! This is news!
SWAT!
Tsk!
"You going with me?" I'm ever hopeful.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to," he says so sternly I have to laugh.
SWAT!
Tsk!
"Gonna warm you up all over," he promises.
"I can live with that but I hope chocolate Twinkies are also on the menu."
SWAT!
Double Tsk!
And let's not forget... I'm an absolute saint!
~Sar~
Jeez Louise! On the one hand I love having the giant squid home. He cooks, orders take-out, cuddles and when he has work to do, settles me on the futon in my studio so my babies can get close enough for kissing. SweetPea and BullyBoy and I fit perfectly on the futon although BullyBoy's tail occasionally whacks the beejeebees out of SweetPea's hip which, in turn, makes the Rott mutter ugly words in his direction. This makes the giant Mastiff whimper which is just an act to get more attention. The old bloodhound sleeps on the rug and snores through the whole thing.
On the other hand, the giant squid is a bossy sort and more so when I'm not 100%. He still barks orders which I continue to ignore which tries his patience. Ha! You didn't know he had any! If he gets loud, BullyBoy stands on his hind legs and breathes lethal fumes in his face. Beer breath + doggie breath = near death. Even Navy Seals shudder at that combination. I use a lot of Binaca on that dog. Hmmm... maybe I should change the brand of beer he drinks.
So... the dominant cat in our house jumps on the futon and swats the Rott in the puss so the dog will make room for hefty 20-lb. cat. Rott says ugly word - cat hisses and spits - BullyBoy shoves both of them off the futon and I decide I'm feeling terrific and get dressed to go outside.
"Where do you think you're going, imp?" the direct descendant of Genghis Khan wants to know.
Egads! He's got eyes in the back of his head.
"I need some fresh air."
"You're gonna get some on your tush if you're not back in bed in the next five minutes, babe."
A moment of silence here as I try to come up with a witty retort.
"I've been house bound since forever," I announce, "and I'm about to climb the walls."
This is definitely not my wittiest retort.
"Three days is not forever," the anal retentive Neanderthal states. "Another day or two and you'll be much better and then you can go out."
This is supposed to make me feel better?
"Okey-dokey," I say agreeably and make a beeline for the back deck where my two outside Rotts are waiting. From there it's only a short run to the kennels where the foster pups can be released. I can play with them in the yard and the stodgy wanna-be medic in my house can simmer for a while. I know this because the phone rang - the line in his office - and that could take a while.
Oh JOY!
All the dogs get hugs and kisses and we play hide & seek and "catch me" in and around all the evergreens. Great fun and lots of tail wagging!
Until...
My tail... is suddenly way higher than it should be... over the giant squid's shoulder.
"Gotcha!"
Tsk!
Okay - short lived fun but worth it.
I know my face is a little flushed and my nose is cold but I have a feeling I'm gonna get warmed up soon. Not sure if I should be happy about this.
"What did I tell you?" he says as he meanders back to the house with ten dogs trailing us.
"You said something?" I ask in all innocence.
SWAT!
Tsk!
"You're going back to bed, imp."
Hooooo Boy! This is news!
SWAT!
Tsk!
"You going with me?" I'm ever hopeful.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to," he says so sternly I have to laugh.
SWAT!
Tsk!
"Gonna warm you up all over," he promises.
"I can live with that but I hope chocolate Twinkies are also on the menu."
SWAT!
Double Tsk!
And let's not forget... I'm an absolute saint!
~Sar~
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Imp Strikes Again!
Cowboy here again. The imp traded one flu bug for a different one and finally admitted she was feeling poorly. Right now she's in her studio surrounded by pets and sketching something for a lady that wants one of her art pieces.
She got rid of that intestinal bug, lived life in double time for a few days, then got snagged by respiratory congestion. It's her own fault. We had more snow than we're supposed to get out this way. Our neighborhood was deep in the stuff. Sar can't resist snow. Don't know why but that's how it is. As soon as the imp got out of the house she started making snowmen. Not 1 or 2 but a whole damned village!
The most respectable one was leaning against a tree holding a book in its hands - twigs actually. One female snow person - slim - well endowed - on its hands and knees - a damn snow dog sniffing its hind end. I kicked that one down the minute I saw it. Nosy neighbor across the road probably had a stroke. Two small snowmen were "peeing" on each other. Sar stuck hose nozzles in their crotches. Kicked that one down too. Maybe it's the meds I made her take - don't know how she comes by these ideas. She built a snow fort - a "cowboy" snowman bent over the top - a snow arrow in its back and a flag that read "remember the Alamo." I do not know this woman.
The neighborhood kids love my wife. Their parents are as happy as I am when the snow melts. I'm waiting to get a letter from the neighborhood homeowners association reminding us about some code that includes lewd snow people displays.
She taught 9-year old Patrick how to zap a snowball using a slingshot. They both bombarded me when I got home from work. I went after the imp when a snowball hit me in the face but before I could reach her, Patrick's snowball hit my chest. It could have been worse. Once she had the dogs jump me in the snow. As soon as I was down with 300 pounds of fur on my chest, she stuffed snow down my pants.
I waited till Patrick went home, then I got her warmed up the old fashioned way - shower, swats, some genuine lovin.
Up early the next morning. Heard the imp sneezing, grabbed the cough syrup I keep hidden so it doesn't get dumped down the sink, sneaked up behind her while she was recovering from a sneezing session and got some meds down her throat. Between the sneezing and the meds she got sleepy right away. Made her some breakfast and put her back in bed.
Sar's threatened to write a story about my ill-spent youth and post it for all to see. As long as she doesn't post pictures I can handle it.
Cowboy
She got rid of that intestinal bug, lived life in double time for a few days, then got snagged by respiratory congestion. It's her own fault. We had more snow than we're supposed to get out this way. Our neighborhood was deep in the stuff. Sar can't resist snow. Don't know why but that's how it is. As soon as the imp got out of the house she started making snowmen. Not 1 or 2 but a whole damned village!
The most respectable one was leaning against a tree holding a book in its hands - twigs actually. One female snow person - slim - well endowed - on its hands and knees - a damn snow dog sniffing its hind end. I kicked that one down the minute I saw it. Nosy neighbor across the road probably had a stroke. Two small snowmen were "peeing" on each other. Sar stuck hose nozzles in their crotches. Kicked that one down too. Maybe it's the meds I made her take - don't know how she comes by these ideas. She built a snow fort - a "cowboy" snowman bent over the top - a snow arrow in its back and a flag that read "remember the Alamo." I do not know this woman.
The neighborhood kids love my wife. Their parents are as happy as I am when the snow melts. I'm waiting to get a letter from the neighborhood homeowners association reminding us about some code that includes lewd snow people displays.
She taught 9-year old Patrick how to zap a snowball using a slingshot. They both bombarded me when I got home from work. I went after the imp when a snowball hit me in the face but before I could reach her, Patrick's snowball hit my chest. It could have been worse. Once she had the dogs jump me in the snow. As soon as I was down with 300 pounds of fur on my chest, she stuffed snow down my pants.
I waited till Patrick went home, then I got her warmed up the old fashioned way - shower, swats, some genuine lovin.
Up early the next morning. Heard the imp sneezing, grabbed the cough syrup I keep hidden so it doesn't get dumped down the sink, sneaked up behind her while she was recovering from a sneezing session and got some meds down her throat. Between the sneezing and the meds she got sleepy right away. Made her some breakfast and put her back in bed.
Sar's threatened to write a story about my ill-spent youth and post it for all to see. As long as she doesn't post pictures I can handle it.
Cowboy
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Combat Pay
Cowboy here. Sar is sleeping off the meds I shoved down her throat. I know what you're thinking - Neanderthal.
Had to be out of town for a few days. During that time the imp got one of those flu bugs that drain your energy - upset stomach, a bit of coughing and sneezing and a bit of fever. She was just getting the flu when I had to leave. Called our friend David to come over to check up on her and he decided to stay a few days. I think it was the freezer filled with food he likes that clinched the deal.
I might be a Neanderthal but David is a marine and doesn't take any gruff - except from Sar. Let me explain it like this:
Sar feeling 100% = a sweet loving woman with a high energy level and one that embraces the world.
Sar feeling slightly under the weather = a few sniffles, a little less energy, takeout for supper, and an ingestion of a lot of hot cocoa.
Sar feeling ill and knows it = super sensitive about her health, cuddles with her pups, ignores me, avoids me, and threatens dire consequences if touched, babied, pampered, or God forbid, medicated. (This does not deter me but that's another story.)
Sar ill and not honing up to it = a loaded AK47 in one hand and a live grenade in the other. She doesn't talk - she snarls. If her wishes are defied-- she sets the dogs on you and walks out of the room. Her dogs are big. Her dogs bite.
I figure the marine has seen combat. He can handle her.
I call every day to get the damage report. So far the marine has all his limbs but a growing number of bruises. He's cussing a lot. I tell him he's a brave man. He tells me Sar would behave if I'd let him spank her. I tell him I know my wife and having a death wish is not a good thing. If Sar doesn't do him in I will.
He's feeding her chicken noodle soup and Boston cream pie. I don't know if this will make her better but she's not complaining about it. She's making him bring the foster dogs into the house 1 at a time so she can spend time with them. He suspects they are eating the soup when he isn't looking.
I get home and can tell the imp has a fever. I don't ask. I don't argue. I tackle her, lock her arms between us, hook a leg around both of hers and shove coated aspirin down her throat along with an Rx she has for intestinal discomfort. She spits, hisses, and yells every ugly word she knows-- most of which are variations of camel dung and armpit spawn. Then she falls asleep.
Asleep, she looks like an angel.
I'll make linguini for her tonight - a little butter and cheese and some personal attention and she'll be back to mischief in no time. David says I should take her to task for beating him up when he was trying to nurse her. I tell the marine he deserves combat pay and is damned lucky to be alive with all his parts attached.
Cowboy
Had to be out of town for a few days. During that time the imp got one of those flu bugs that drain your energy - upset stomach, a bit of coughing and sneezing and a bit of fever. She was just getting the flu when I had to leave. Called our friend David to come over to check up on her and he decided to stay a few days. I think it was the freezer filled with food he likes that clinched the deal.
I might be a Neanderthal but David is a marine and doesn't take any gruff - except from Sar. Let me explain it like this:
Sar feeling 100% = a sweet loving woman with a high energy level and one that embraces the world.
Sar feeling slightly under the weather = a few sniffles, a little less energy, takeout for supper, and an ingestion of a lot of hot cocoa.
Sar feeling ill and knows it = super sensitive about her health, cuddles with her pups, ignores me, avoids me, and threatens dire consequences if touched, babied, pampered, or God forbid, medicated. (This does not deter me but that's another story.)
Sar ill and not honing up to it = a loaded AK47 in one hand and a live grenade in the other. She doesn't talk - she snarls. If her wishes are defied-- she sets the dogs on you and walks out of the room. Her dogs are big. Her dogs bite.
I figure the marine has seen combat. He can handle her.
I call every day to get the damage report. So far the marine has all his limbs but a growing number of bruises. He's cussing a lot. I tell him he's a brave man. He tells me Sar would behave if I'd let him spank her. I tell him I know my wife and having a death wish is not a good thing. If Sar doesn't do him in I will.
He's feeding her chicken noodle soup and Boston cream pie. I don't know if this will make her better but she's not complaining about it. She's making him bring the foster dogs into the house 1 at a time so she can spend time with them. He suspects they are eating the soup when he isn't looking.
I get home and can tell the imp has a fever. I don't ask. I don't argue. I tackle her, lock her arms between us, hook a leg around both of hers and shove coated aspirin down her throat along with an Rx she has for intestinal discomfort. She spits, hisses, and yells every ugly word she knows-- most of which are variations of camel dung and armpit spawn. Then she falls asleep.
Asleep, she looks like an angel.
I'll make linguini for her tonight - a little butter and cheese and some personal attention and she'll be back to mischief in no time. David says I should take her to task for beating him up when he was trying to nurse her. I tell the marine he deserves combat pay and is damned lucky to be alive with all his parts attached.
Cowboy
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Brand New Year!
Happy happy and sincere wishes for good things in the coming year! I have resolved to eat more chocolate, finish writing my upteen unfinished stories and get into new and more creative mischief.
However... I ended 2006 with a fabulous RUN AMOK week!
Cowboy banned water guns from the house a few years back when I had an unfortunate incident with the base commandant... Briefly... I was aiming for the giant squid but he happened to move just as I fired my gun. Tragically... the base commandant was standing behind Cowboy and I hit him instead. 'Twas a very sad but hilarious scene and I still haven't lived it down.
Santa brought me a super duper sized water gun. I suspect it was really David, who couldn't care less about a NAVY base commandant - since he's a marine - but this way, he denies all guilt.
Oh JOY!
Naturally I couldn't wait to try it out. I filled it with ICE water and... red finger paint... and shook it till it had the texture of loose jello and was gooey and then I aimed.
I shot Mr. Snowman... aimed for his belly but hit him a little lower... that was not pretty. The neighborhood kids ran around saying I had killed the snow people. Desperate to live up to my new reputation, I jogged around the neighborhood and shot a LOT of snow people.
Someone called the police... They came out and surveyed my handiwork and when they stopped laughing long enough to pick themselves up off the ground, asked if I had ever used a Taser gun...
"YOU ARE NOT GETTING A TASER!" you-know-who roared.
Crumb.
Later, the outside Rotts and I played war photojournalists... The large dogs stalked anyone who came into the backyard and when the "enemy" was pinned to the ground, I came in and shot them - first with my water gun, then with my camera. Wonderful ammunition to have on hand if an occasion for bribery arises. In my life, that's often. We had a lot of snow so the ground was bleeding red. It was quite wonderful.
"I didn't know you had such a cruel streak, bambina," the giant squid grumbled as he tried to wipe red jello goop off his sweats.
"Ha! You didn't know me when I was a kid."
"Terror of the neighborhood, huh?"
"Tsk. I was one of the shorter ones in my crowd. No one ever suspected me."
"Give me that water gun before you do serious damage," he said in such a calm voice...
"Oh sure, right away." I was prepared for this encounter. I grabbed my gallon container of red goop and ice water and got up a tree while my big Rotts kept the giant squid preoccupied. They loved this game, tackling the "alpha" male in the house and tumbling on the ground with him. I continued using him for target practice and the pups kept drowning him in slobber as they licked the jello off his v-a-r-i-o-u-s body parts. I took GREAT pics!
Cowboy made some very ugly noises... tsk. Such language out of an officer and a gentleman. I told him so, too and when he got free of the pups, he ZIPPED up the tree. Never would have thought such an o-l-d man could still do that.
SWAT!
Tsk.
We ended up in the snow with water gun residue and dog slobber all over us and I was laughing and hiccuping and the squid was rubbing goop all over my face. I stuffed snow down his pants and he yelled and the Rotts jumped him and we rolled and I laughed again and threw the water gun away from me and Tank, my big Rott, grabbed it and took it into his kennel and Cowboy wasn't able to confiscate it - yet.
Great fun! But Cowboy plays dirty... so... lady that I am...
"Any chance of cobbler this week, imp?"
"Sure," I agreed and made apple cobbler, blueberry cobbler, pear cobbler, apricot cobbler, and plum cobbler.
"Very tasty," he said and gave me a swat.
Tsk.
"Dare I ask for peach pie?"
"Sure, ask away." And I baked apple pie, cherry pie, blueberry pie, pecan pie, and a Boston Cream pie for David.
Two swats!
Tsk.
"Peaches aren't in season," I told him.
"Pink butts are!"
Jeez. I ran up the stairs... he followed me... etc.
Went to the mall New Year's Eve day - took Cowboy's credit card - found LOTS of things on sale. I only bought the very basic necessities: Chocolate, new shoes, chocolate, new sexy undies, chocolate, new ceramic pie pans from Holland - gorgeous - and I picked up some chocolate.
Some of the Neanderthal's o-l-d buddies dropped in during RUN AMOK week... They wanted to see his gun/rifle collection. When I heard...
"SAR!!" at an extremely loud volume, I knew they had discovered the tiny water pistol I had put in his gun cabinet for safe keeping, also the slingshot... my prize marble shooter, and the yo-yo...
Tsk. Now I may never get that stash of Lindt chocolates I hid behind that big long pistol he got in an auction somewhere on the other side of the world a hundred years ago and one that he thinks is some kind of prize weapon. Tsk. Men and their toys.
Which is more important? Guns or chocolate? Don't bother to answer. I know you know the pecking order.
I gave Ms.HairUpHerAss a big basket of brownies - the good kind. She was so suspicious she refused to eat any and insisted the marines and sailors visiting my house should have them. They ate them with gusto and Ms.HairUpHerAss has a new respect for these fighting men. "They are so brave," she gushed, thinking they could eat my "special" brownies and not feel any ill effects.
Tsk.
"Don't worry," Cowboy grumbled. "If she wants to take them down, they're toast."
Double tsk.
I taught Patrick how to use my water gun. Strike one.
I showed Peeper Patterson how to get a porn site on his computer. Strike two.
I made a tunnel-of-fudge cake and ate the whole thing by myself. Strike three.
I gave Patrick a teeny tiny frog (from the pet store) to take to school for show 'n tell. His teacher is one of those hair-in-a-bun-'n-orthopedic-shoes squeamish types. Strike four.
I sent the base commandant good wishes for the holiday season. He called Cowboy to ask him not to leave me "unattended" on his base. Tsk. Strike five.
I sent the base medical staff homemade bread dough to be baked at their leisure. Apparently, I used a little too much yeast... oops - the dough ROSE and ROSE and ROSE... Strike Six. Tsk. Did they think it was a new age weapon? Scared the beejeebees out of them. Put a HUGE smile on my face, though.
I pinched Cowboy's butt every time I got close enough to do so... in the middle of all the holiday festivities we attended. He can really jump HIGH. ~ sigh ~ Another strike.
"My butt is practically black and blue," he grumbled in the shower one night.
"Well mine gets pink far too often," I grumbled right back.
"We could make it red," he threatened.
"You could eat out for the rest of your life," I intoned.
"As long as you sleep with me," he groaned when I pinched him again.
And yeah... the band played on.
~Sar~
However... I ended 2006 with a fabulous RUN AMOK week!
Cowboy banned water guns from the house a few years back when I had an unfortunate incident with the base commandant... Briefly... I was aiming for the giant squid but he happened to move just as I fired my gun. Tragically... the base commandant was standing behind Cowboy and I hit him instead. 'Twas a very sad but hilarious scene and I still haven't lived it down.
Santa brought me a super duper sized water gun. I suspect it was really David, who couldn't care less about a NAVY base commandant - since he's a marine - but this way, he denies all guilt.
Oh JOY!
Naturally I couldn't wait to try it out. I filled it with ICE water and... red finger paint... and shook it till it had the texture of loose jello and was gooey and then I aimed.
I shot Mr. Snowman... aimed for his belly but hit him a little lower... that was not pretty. The neighborhood kids ran around saying I had killed the snow people. Desperate to live up to my new reputation, I jogged around the neighborhood and shot a LOT of snow people.
Someone called the police... They came out and surveyed my handiwork and when they stopped laughing long enough to pick themselves up off the ground, asked if I had ever used a Taser gun...
"YOU ARE NOT GETTING A TASER!" you-know-who roared.
Crumb.
Later, the outside Rotts and I played war photojournalists... The large dogs stalked anyone who came into the backyard and when the "enemy" was pinned to the ground, I came in and shot them - first with my water gun, then with my camera. Wonderful ammunition to have on hand if an occasion for bribery arises. In my life, that's often. We had a lot of snow so the ground was bleeding red. It was quite wonderful.
"I didn't know you had such a cruel streak, bambina," the giant squid grumbled as he tried to wipe red jello goop off his sweats.
"Ha! You didn't know me when I was a kid."
"Terror of the neighborhood, huh?"
"Tsk. I was one of the shorter ones in my crowd. No one ever suspected me."
"Give me that water gun before you do serious damage," he said in such a calm voice...
"Oh sure, right away." I was prepared for this encounter. I grabbed my gallon container of red goop and ice water and got up a tree while my big Rotts kept the giant squid preoccupied. They loved this game, tackling the "alpha" male in the house and tumbling on the ground with him. I continued using him for target practice and the pups kept drowning him in slobber as they licked the jello off his v-a-r-i-o-u-s body parts. I took GREAT pics!
Cowboy made some very ugly noises... tsk. Such language out of an officer and a gentleman. I told him so, too and when he got free of the pups, he ZIPPED up the tree. Never would have thought such an o-l-d man could still do that.
SWAT!
Tsk.
We ended up in the snow with water gun residue and dog slobber all over us and I was laughing and hiccuping and the squid was rubbing goop all over my face. I stuffed snow down his pants and he yelled and the Rotts jumped him and we rolled and I laughed again and threw the water gun away from me and Tank, my big Rott, grabbed it and took it into his kennel and Cowboy wasn't able to confiscate it - yet.
Great fun! But Cowboy plays dirty... so... lady that I am...
"Any chance of cobbler this week, imp?"
"Sure," I agreed and made apple cobbler, blueberry cobbler, pear cobbler, apricot cobbler, and plum cobbler.
"Very tasty," he said and gave me a swat.
Tsk.
"Dare I ask for peach pie?"
"Sure, ask away." And I baked apple pie, cherry pie, blueberry pie, pecan pie, and a Boston Cream pie for David.
Two swats!
Tsk.
"Peaches aren't in season," I told him.
"Pink butts are!"
Jeez. I ran up the stairs... he followed me... etc.
Went to the mall New Year's Eve day - took Cowboy's credit card - found LOTS of things on sale. I only bought the very basic necessities: Chocolate, new shoes, chocolate, new sexy undies, chocolate, new ceramic pie pans from Holland - gorgeous - and I picked up some chocolate.
Some of the Neanderthal's o-l-d buddies dropped in during RUN AMOK week... They wanted to see his gun/rifle collection. When I heard...
"SAR!!" at an extremely loud volume, I knew they had discovered the tiny water pistol I had put in his gun cabinet for safe keeping, also the slingshot... my prize marble shooter, and the yo-yo...
Tsk. Now I may never get that stash of Lindt chocolates I hid behind that big long pistol he got in an auction somewhere on the other side of the world a hundred years ago and one that he thinks is some kind of prize weapon. Tsk. Men and their toys.
Which is more important? Guns or chocolate? Don't bother to answer. I know you know the pecking order.
I gave Ms.HairUpHerAss a big basket of brownies - the good kind. She was so suspicious she refused to eat any and insisted the marines and sailors visiting my house should have them. They ate them with gusto and Ms.HairUpHerAss has a new respect for these fighting men. "They are so brave," she gushed, thinking they could eat my "special" brownies and not feel any ill effects.
Tsk.
"Don't worry," Cowboy grumbled. "If she wants to take them down, they're toast."
Double tsk.
I taught Patrick how to use my water gun. Strike one.
I showed Peeper Patterson how to get a porn site on his computer. Strike two.
I made a tunnel-of-fudge cake and ate the whole thing by myself. Strike three.
I gave Patrick a teeny tiny frog (from the pet store) to take to school for show 'n tell. His teacher is one of those hair-in-a-bun-'n-orthopedic-shoes squeamish types. Strike four.
I sent the base commandant good wishes for the holiday season. He called Cowboy to ask him not to leave me "unattended" on his base. Tsk. Strike five.
I sent the base medical staff homemade bread dough to be baked at their leisure. Apparently, I used a little too much yeast... oops - the dough ROSE and ROSE and ROSE... Strike Six. Tsk. Did they think it was a new age weapon? Scared the beejeebees out of them. Put a HUGE smile on my face, though.
I pinched Cowboy's butt every time I got close enough to do so... in the middle of all the holiday festivities we attended. He can really jump HIGH. ~ sigh ~ Another strike.
"My butt is practically black and blue," he grumbled in the shower one night.
"Well mine gets pink far too often," I grumbled right back.
"We could make it red," he threatened.
"You could eat out for the rest of your life," I intoned.
"As long as you sleep with me," he groaned when I pinched him again.
And yeah... the band played on.
~Sar~
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