I'm sure you've read about the Navy Seal snipers that took out those Somali pirates that had a ship's captain hostage on a lifeboat. It's been more than a few days since the brave man was rescued but my husband - a former Navy Seal - is still high from that event. I don't think his feet have touched ground since it happened. His happiness over the rescue and pride in that Seal Team is contagious. Can't help smiling at the joy on his face. Also got to say I'm thrilled he is no longer an active participating member of those Teams.
I got home in time to enjoy Easter dinner, Passover seders and a lot of my favorite foods courtesy of Glory's cooking. I LOVE the holidays. Glory outdid herself with a few new dishes that will be on my recipe link in the not-too-distant future. I hadn't eaten as much as I thought I did while I was away; Cowboy frowned when he saw me - after he hugged me - and said if I was down more than 5 pounds I wouldn't be sitting comfortably for a while.
Rollin me eyes, here.
Vi distracted him while I stuffed my mouth with apple strudel, a couple of heavily buttered cinnamon rolls, chocolate-to-die-for pudding cake, two glasses of milk and a Twinkie that happened to be in my pocket. Lost five pounds on the dot. Phewwwwwww, close call.
Got a swat anyway! Tsk.
I ate everything in sight up to, during, and after the holiday meals. And... I added soft cushions to all the chairs that weren't already padded - just in case.
Pups were happy to see me. I was happy to see them. Cats pretended they didn't know I was gone but checked out my duffel bag. I had some catnip treats in it and we were all friends again. The tortoise hid in her shell until I waved a Twinkie in front of her and we're back on friendly terms as well.
David is HOME! He made it back in time for Easter dinner. Looking thinner but still arrogant, egocentric Marine. Was that redundant? I got a hug and a kiss when his helo dropped him off on the beach. That was followed by a demand for chicken and dumplings, Boston cream pie and corn chowder - in any order. Glory made sure he got all three items.
Bull was back home in Arkansas for Easter with his family and back up here for Passover. That boy has GROWN. (Cowboy says I shouldn't call him a boy; he's in his early 30's.) Compared to my ancient husband, he's a boy.
SWAT!
Tsk.
We left David, Bull, Max, Glory and Vi at David's house and came home to spend a little alone time. Reunions are always wonderful.
There's a new pooch in my kennels. We rescue pure breed dogs - the large varieties. The main reason is that most people prefer to rescue, foster and adopt smaller dogs - except for Lab and Retriever breeds. Those are thought to be of a gentler temperament and let's face it, a large breed dog that needs fostering, etc has an unknown temperament and a rescuer might very well be a little cautious. Fearless me - a trait that often gets me in the doghouse with the giant squid who lives with me, doesn't mind a challenge. This particular dog, however, is not a pure bred canine. He's a mixed breed - LARGE - but so far, a bit of a doofus. He reminds me of a Leonburger and may have some of that breed in him. Very red, long hair fur, black muzzle, web feet, but no tail! Leonburgers have long tails. His nose is pushed in - very odd on a dog that weighs 90-100 lbs or more. And... he has crooked teeth.
"Where did you get this dog?" I innocently asked.
"It was wandering around the Navy base. It's large. Needed rescuing."
"You were at the Navy base?" BLINK!
"So I brought it home for you to train."
"You were at the Navy base?"
"Ate everything in the fridge so I kenneled it. It needs a name."
"What were you doing on base?"
"Reminds me of a Navy Commander I once knew. Hawthorne was his name."
"I'm surprised the K-9 unit didn't chase him away."
"Nawwwww, Hawthorne liked dogs."
"Cowboy!"
His amusement can be overbearing. And... Hawthorne has no manners. He also slobbers and if you praise him, he licks your face. DomTom, my cat, sits on the back deck to watch while I attempt to train the beastie without getting drowned in slobber. When the dog rolls over to nap, the cat jumps on its back and kneads its neck. That cat is more fearless than I am. When I relayed this to the giant squid, he wanted to know what I'd do if he rolled over. Ohhhhhh, so many possibilities here!
SWAT!
LOL!
We left Harpo and Lucy Ricardo, Dobie pups, out at David's house. They've become very attached to Max and he enjoys their company. When Max and his ladies go back home - New Orleans, Gulfport and Chicago, they may adopt a Dobie from the local shelter. Taking these two with them is not an option. They've never had a dog and traveling with them would be a huge challenge.
Other: My tulips are blooming; the cherry blossoms are in full bloom and the weeping cherry trees are just beginning to bloom. We've had a tremendous amount of rain so the trees are too slick to climb yet. I think Cowboy is getting too old and frail to climb up after me. I can't wait to recline on a branch and enjoy a good book.
"You'll be reclining on your belly if you do!"
Tsk. Who said that?
Plus... I've missed a few full moons, winter, traveling, etc. I'll be dancing under its glow at the next one!
"Wanna bet?"
Double tsk. I have new leg warmers I have to try.
"That's not all that's gonna be warm!"
Did you hear anything? Neither did I.
~Sar~
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
High & Dry!
...Abandoned, neglected, jilted, ignored, alone...
That's what Cowboy's been saying, whining about, complaining, moaning, etc as only a male can. It's even worse when he's not feeling 100%.
Why?
'Cause I'm out of town, away, gone, absent, and geographically elsewhere.
I'm on a multi-city gallery tour with other fiber artists. We're zipping into a city, displaying some of our works in galleries, zipping to the airport to fly to yet another city, and repeating the whole process all over again. Originally, we had 7 cities on our tour; the tour producer just added 3 more so I'll be away a little longer than originally planned. We're covering a few spots across the North American continent including a few Canadian cities, crisscrossing back and forth from west to east and back to west coast. It's exhilarating meeting new audiences but tiring as well. After a day and evening on my feet I'm ready to order room service and hit the sack before doing it all over again the next day.
The perks are spending time with other artists whose ideas are very inspiring, sort of like going on a creative retreat. Also, I accepted a couple of commissions that are extremely large and will probably take about a year to create and finish. That's exciting.
Meanwhile, the giant squid had complained that I'm away during the peak peach harvest and he's missing out on his favorite food baked in numerous ways purely for his enjoyment. Groannnnnn
I suggested he could stuff his mouth with the pure fruit and get all emotional over that.
His response was lacking in couth.
Of course, he could have gone on the tour with me and/or met me for a few days in one of the cities where he could sight see or eat in wonderful places. He declined the invitation because he'd get hassled into doing some of the labor (hanging art), packing, unpacking, fetching, etc. I thought that would be better than sitting in a corner pouting... but that's just me. When I mentioned this in a phone call home, he said he was jotting down all these non-sequiturs and would make me pay later. Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises.
Bottom line: He misses me and is getting a tiny taste of what I went through when he sailed off to the wild blue yonder all those years I waited for him at home.
He takes the ferry out to the San Juans to David's house about once a week. He needs Glory's cooking, Vi's fussing and the company of Max and Bull. Also, the smell of the Pacific Ocean is a constant for his peace of mind. He generally hauls all the critters with him although he says the cats continue to ignore him. The three Rotts will go anywhere and David's house is their 2nd home. The Dobie pups are growing by leaps and bounds and utterly fascinated with Torty the giant tortoise. The tortoise is not at all fascinated with them and stays hidden in her shell house for hours on end. Harpo, the male Dobie barks at Torty to come out and play. Lucy Ricardo, female pup, insisted on going nose to nose with her. Torty lost her tortoise demeanor and nipped the pup. Lucy leapt on Bull's lap and cried Doberman puppy tears. The cats still fight over which one of them gets to nap on her back. Cowboy relayed all this and said "See what you're missing by going off and leaving us alone?"
Rollin me eyes here.
Not long after I get home, the giant squid will be off to the east coast to take care of some personal business. If he has time, he'll check out a few houses in Virginia (where we lived when we were first married), the Carolinas, and I don't know where else. On the way, he'll escort Max and Vi and Glory to New Orleans and take a peek at Gulfport, MS where they still have numerous friends who survived Katrina. When they're settled, he'll go onto other ports of call.
Max is almost back to 100% from his stroke. Not only has he had excellent nursing care and therapists who really worked to help his muscles relearn their duties, he's had great incentive from Vi and Glory. Both ladies were determined that Max keep a strong and positive attitude about life and both ladies displayed some very creative ways to maintain his interest. Enough said.
I had all kinds of checkups before I left home. Have a couple more appointments when I get back - dental work. UGHH I do not like people poking around in any part of my body, and certainly not in my mouth. Cowboy warned me not to have a mouth full of salt water taffy when I see the dentist. Tsk. That's so much more visually esthetic than a mouth filled with unswallowed chocolate. I wonder if I can find strawberry or cherry taffy to make my mouth look like it's bleeding? That ought to shake up the dentist (who has zero sense of humor.) The last time I went I brought the Mastiff. The only problem with that is he kept goosing the dental assistant. Apparently she didn't find any humor in that. However, if I bring the Rott, he'll sit in a corner, watch (actually stare and glare) and intimidate everyone. Hmmm... goosing Mastiff or intimidating Rott? Decisions, decisions.
"You could leave the beasts at home!" declared the giant squid.
Tsk. What fun would that be?
I'll be home in time for Passover and Easter. Glory will do all the cooking. I love the meal preparations but it's okay to let her take charge; she loves bossing everyone around. And it's possible David will be home in time for the holidays. He's been away too long and eating Marine food isn't quite as satisfying as eating Glory's cooking.
Speaking of Marines... Cowboy said Bull has a new lady friend. He's been seeing her about 4 months now - off and on - and the girl must be smitten because she's taking cooking lessons... I suggested Cowboy tell her to take lessons in "restaurant - size" portions if she's going to cook for Bull. Cowboy said there's a swat or two in my future.
Tsk.
~Sar~
That's what Cowboy's been saying, whining about, complaining, moaning, etc as only a male can. It's even worse when he's not feeling 100%.
Why?
'Cause I'm out of town, away, gone, absent, and geographically elsewhere.
I'm on a multi-city gallery tour with other fiber artists. We're zipping into a city, displaying some of our works in galleries, zipping to the airport to fly to yet another city, and repeating the whole process all over again. Originally, we had 7 cities on our tour; the tour producer just added 3 more so I'll be away a little longer than originally planned. We're covering a few spots across the North American continent including a few Canadian cities, crisscrossing back and forth from west to east and back to west coast. It's exhilarating meeting new audiences but tiring as well. After a day and evening on my feet I'm ready to order room service and hit the sack before doing it all over again the next day.
The perks are spending time with other artists whose ideas are very inspiring, sort of like going on a creative retreat. Also, I accepted a couple of commissions that are extremely large and will probably take about a year to create and finish. That's exciting.
Meanwhile, the giant squid had complained that I'm away during the peak peach harvest and he's missing out on his favorite food baked in numerous ways purely for his enjoyment. Groannnnnn
I suggested he could stuff his mouth with the pure fruit and get all emotional over that.
His response was lacking in couth.
Of course, he could have gone on the tour with me and/or met me for a few days in one of the cities where he could sight see or eat in wonderful places. He declined the invitation because he'd get hassled into doing some of the labor (hanging art), packing, unpacking, fetching, etc. I thought that would be better than sitting in a corner pouting... but that's just me. When I mentioned this in a phone call home, he said he was jotting down all these non-sequiturs and would make me pay later. Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises.
Bottom line: He misses me and is getting a tiny taste of what I went through when he sailed off to the wild blue yonder all those years I waited for him at home.
He takes the ferry out to the San Juans to David's house about once a week. He needs Glory's cooking, Vi's fussing and the company of Max and Bull. Also, the smell of the Pacific Ocean is a constant for his peace of mind. He generally hauls all the critters with him although he says the cats continue to ignore him. The three Rotts will go anywhere and David's house is their 2nd home. The Dobie pups are growing by leaps and bounds and utterly fascinated with Torty the giant tortoise. The tortoise is not at all fascinated with them and stays hidden in her shell house for hours on end. Harpo, the male Dobie barks at Torty to come out and play. Lucy Ricardo, female pup, insisted on going nose to nose with her. Torty lost her tortoise demeanor and nipped the pup. Lucy leapt on Bull's lap and cried Doberman puppy tears. The cats still fight over which one of them gets to nap on her back. Cowboy relayed all this and said "See what you're missing by going off and leaving us alone?"
Rollin me eyes here.
Not long after I get home, the giant squid will be off to the east coast to take care of some personal business. If he has time, he'll check out a few houses in Virginia (where we lived when we were first married), the Carolinas, and I don't know where else. On the way, he'll escort Max and Vi and Glory to New Orleans and take a peek at Gulfport, MS where they still have numerous friends who survived Katrina. When they're settled, he'll go onto other ports of call.
Max is almost back to 100% from his stroke. Not only has he had excellent nursing care and therapists who really worked to help his muscles relearn their duties, he's had great incentive from Vi and Glory. Both ladies were determined that Max keep a strong and positive attitude about life and both ladies displayed some very creative ways to maintain his interest. Enough said.
I had all kinds of checkups before I left home. Have a couple more appointments when I get back - dental work. UGHH I do not like people poking around in any part of my body, and certainly not in my mouth. Cowboy warned me not to have a mouth full of salt water taffy when I see the dentist. Tsk. That's so much more visually esthetic than a mouth filled with unswallowed chocolate. I wonder if I can find strawberry or cherry taffy to make my mouth look like it's bleeding? That ought to shake up the dentist (who has zero sense of humor.) The last time I went I brought the Mastiff. The only problem with that is he kept goosing the dental assistant. Apparently she didn't find any humor in that. However, if I bring the Rott, he'll sit in a corner, watch (actually stare and glare) and intimidate everyone. Hmmm... goosing Mastiff or intimidating Rott? Decisions, decisions.
"You could leave the beasts at home!" declared the giant squid.
Tsk. What fun would that be?
I'll be home in time for Passover and Easter. Glory will do all the cooking. I love the meal preparations but it's okay to let her take charge; she loves bossing everyone around. And it's possible David will be home in time for the holidays. He's been away too long and eating Marine food isn't quite as satisfying as eating Glory's cooking.
Speaking of Marines... Cowboy said Bull has a new lady friend. He's been seeing her about 4 months now - off and on - and the girl must be smitten because she's taking cooking lessons... I suggested Cowboy tell her to take lessons in "restaurant - size" portions if she's going to cook for Bull. Cowboy said there's a swat or two in my future.
Tsk.
~Sar~
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Counting...
my blessings. February has been an outstanding celebration at our house. There's been outrageously delicious chocolate treats, imported chocolates, and plenty of naughty-but-nice threats, dares, activities, festivities, orchestras and nights dancing the tango - on the dance floor and elsewhere.
As o-l-d as the giant squid is, he's still got what it takes to make me glad I married him. More than one of you has asked exactly how old is he? O-L-D!
SWAT!
LOL!
Valentine's day was spectacular! A few days before the holiday I received a lunch invitation in the mail. It was from 11-year old Patrick. He said he'd pick me up at 12 on the dot and to please wear a dress and look like a lady. Hmmm... I thought... I don't look like a lady? And then I wondered if I was driving since it will be a few years before Patrick can get a license...
I wore a floor-length "dance" dress with a beret and short gloves. Patrick rang the doorbell at 12 on the dot wearing a really smart suit Santa brought for Christmas. He handed me a single red rose that I promptly put between my teeth. A LIMO was in the driveway and a tall fellow - chauffeur - was leaning on the driver's door. It was the giant squid! And he was wearing a chauffeur's jacket and cap! I had to smother my giggles. Then Patrick had to smother his when the chauffeur opened my door and gave me a not-so-gentle swat when I bent over to get in the car. Tsk.
As soon as we were seated in the limo, Patrick opened 2 containers of instant chocolate pudding that we devoured before our chauffeur backed out of the driveway. Sigh That's my boy.
He took me a local Mom & Pop place I favor where we had steaks, fries and root beer. Mom and Pop served us themselves. Cowboy came into the restaurant and stood in an obscure place and watched us the whole time. I think he was jealous because Patrick and I had our heads together, whispering sweet nothings... about his bloodhound, his Segway, the letter he is thinking of composing to Santa. I taught him to get those letters in early and often... couldn't hurt.
The bill had been prepaid and we had ice cream in the limo drizzled with hot chocolate syrup. I imagine Mom & Pop took care of that detail. It was absolutely a delicious Valentine's present from our favorite belongs-to-somebody-else child... er... young man.
Patrick repeated the whole "date" with his Mom that evening for dinner. Bull was chauffeur and this time Butler, his bloodhound, went along for the date. Butler is a service dog and can go into restaurants when he's wearing his service dog jacket.
I asked the giant squid what he was going to do to make my Valentine's day as special as Patrick had done. In turn, he asked me the SAME question. I had ideas of my own but I have to admit, as wonderful as Cowboy's plans were, and they were! I was really overwhelmed by Patrick's thoughtfulness.
Other: Did I tell you we are fostering two Doberman puppies? They're very young, about 12-14 weeks when we got them, their ears already bandaged to make them stay upright. Wasn't sure about that but we're fostering, not adopting, so I didn't comment when the rescue group turned them over. Have had them a few weeks now; they're too young to stay in the kennels so I've kept them in the house. Housetrained them immediately... they are as goofy as puppies can be. Tripping over their feet, occasionally placing a paw in their food dish, slobbering on the cats, not sure about stairs, and yearn to be lap dogs. The cats have adopted them; washing their faces, smacking them if they nip too hard, etc. I've named them and renamed them several times. So far, it's Harpo and Lucy Ricardo because they're both giant clutzes.
Washington state is a "peach" growing state, a fact the giant squid is always reminding me. At the moment, nectarines are sweeter and firmer than peaches and if he doesn't know I've used them in a recipe... he's none the wiser.
"I know the difference between peaches and nectarines, imp!"
"Yeah, yeah and you can name and find all the countries that end with "stan" on the map. Afghanistan, Pakistan, Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan. Bet you can't do that."
"Maybe not but I can see a spanking in your future, your immediate future."
People... the man has not gained any couth since he retired. And... I noticed he didn't have any trouble devouring the nectarine upside down cake I made.
More: I noticed I haven't been able to log into a few blogs lately... Cassie, PK, Eva... tsk. I know I'm not posting regularly or even been online much lately. However...
Max and Vi and Glory are staying out at David's house, enjoying some privacy and giving us some. Max is doing remarkably well and it won't be long before the trio will be off to visit friends in New Orleans.
February and March are filled with annual, semi-annual and quarterly medical appointments. Because of my overactive thyroid I get that checked often. I think medics draw straws... Honestly, I've been quite mellow recently; I haven't hit, bit or kicked anyone lately. Wellll there was that one incident with the blood sucking vampires... but reasonable people would find that understandable. I mean... when you know you're going to be in a small room with a couple of vampires, you bring holy water and a large cross... just in case. Was it my fault I also brought two Rottweilers and a wooden stake? Maybe next time, I should leave the wooden stake at home.
~Sar~
As o-l-d as the giant squid is, he's still got what it takes to make me glad I married him. More than one of you has asked exactly how old is he? O-L-D!
SWAT!
LOL!
Valentine's day was spectacular! A few days before the holiday I received a lunch invitation in the mail. It was from 11-year old Patrick. He said he'd pick me up at 12 on the dot and to please wear a dress and look like a lady. Hmmm... I thought... I don't look like a lady? And then I wondered if I was driving since it will be a few years before Patrick can get a license...
I wore a floor-length "dance" dress with a beret and short gloves. Patrick rang the doorbell at 12 on the dot wearing a really smart suit Santa brought for Christmas. He handed me a single red rose that I promptly put between my teeth. A LIMO was in the driveway and a tall fellow - chauffeur - was leaning on the driver's door. It was the giant squid! And he was wearing a chauffeur's jacket and cap! I had to smother my giggles. Then Patrick had to smother his when the chauffeur opened my door and gave me a not-so-gentle swat when I bent over to get in the car. Tsk.
As soon as we were seated in the limo, Patrick opened 2 containers of instant chocolate pudding that we devoured before our chauffeur backed out of the driveway. Sigh That's my boy.
He took me a local Mom & Pop place I favor where we had steaks, fries and root beer. Mom and Pop served us themselves. Cowboy came into the restaurant and stood in an obscure place and watched us the whole time. I think he was jealous because Patrick and I had our heads together, whispering sweet nothings... about his bloodhound, his Segway, the letter he is thinking of composing to Santa. I taught him to get those letters in early and often... couldn't hurt.
The bill had been prepaid and we had ice cream in the limo drizzled with hot chocolate syrup. I imagine Mom & Pop took care of that detail. It was absolutely a delicious Valentine's present from our favorite belongs-to-somebody-else child... er... young man.
Patrick repeated the whole "date" with his Mom that evening for dinner. Bull was chauffeur and this time Butler, his bloodhound, went along for the date. Butler is a service dog and can go into restaurants when he's wearing his service dog jacket.
I asked the giant squid what he was going to do to make my Valentine's day as special as Patrick had done. In turn, he asked me the SAME question. I had ideas of my own but I have to admit, as wonderful as Cowboy's plans were, and they were! I was really overwhelmed by Patrick's thoughtfulness.
Other: Did I tell you we are fostering two Doberman puppies? They're very young, about 12-14 weeks when we got them, their ears already bandaged to make them stay upright. Wasn't sure about that but we're fostering, not adopting, so I didn't comment when the rescue group turned them over. Have had them a few weeks now; they're too young to stay in the kennels so I've kept them in the house. Housetrained them immediately... they are as goofy as puppies can be. Tripping over their feet, occasionally placing a paw in their food dish, slobbering on the cats, not sure about stairs, and yearn to be lap dogs. The cats have adopted them; washing their faces, smacking them if they nip too hard, etc. I've named them and renamed them several times. So far, it's Harpo and Lucy Ricardo because they're both giant clutzes.
Washington state is a "peach" growing state, a fact the giant squid is always reminding me. At the moment, nectarines are sweeter and firmer than peaches and if he doesn't know I've used them in a recipe... he's none the wiser.
"I know the difference between peaches and nectarines, imp!"
"Yeah, yeah and you can name and find all the countries that end with "stan" on the map. Afghanistan, Pakistan, Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan. Bet you can't do that."
"Maybe not but I can see a spanking in your future, your immediate future."
People... the man has not gained any couth since he retired. And... I noticed he didn't have any trouble devouring the nectarine upside down cake I made.
More: I noticed I haven't been able to log into a few blogs lately... Cassie, PK, Eva... tsk. I know I'm not posting regularly or even been online much lately. However...
Max and Vi and Glory are staying out at David's house, enjoying some privacy and giving us some. Max is doing remarkably well and it won't be long before the trio will be off to visit friends in New Orleans.
February and March are filled with annual, semi-annual and quarterly medical appointments. Because of my overactive thyroid I get that checked often. I think medics draw straws... Honestly, I've been quite mellow recently; I haven't hit, bit or kicked anyone lately. Wellll there was that one incident with the blood sucking vampires... but reasonable people would find that understandable. I mean... when you know you're going to be in a small room with a couple of vampires, you bring holy water and a large cross... just in case. Was it my fault I also brought two Rottweilers and a wooden stake? Maybe next time, I should leave the wooden stake at home.
~Sar~
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
A New Year!
At long last, we are having decent weather - chilly, slightly damp, lots of fog and the sun peeking out for a long 5-minute stretch here and there. I'm hopeful the snow and really awful stuff is over for now. We're at home and as much as we enjoyed staying at David's house on the ocean, it's always good to be home.
Max and Glory and Vi are still with us; Max's nurse may be leaving this weekend. We're hoping for good news from the doctor. Max is doing really well; he stands unassisted, walks a few steps on his own but can get around with a walker. His speech is getting clearer all the time; everyone can now understand all the naughty words he shouts for no particular reason... He's reading a little; learning to cheat at chess (not that I would know anything about that)... has a lot to say about the lack of fine cigars in his daily routine and the state of the world in general.
Patrick is still with us and will probably be going home soon. His mom has been away on business and expects to return any day now. We'll miss him. We'll also miss him flying through the house - dog in tow - on his Segway. Santa brought him one for Christmas and he has become addicted to speeding under his own power.
David is overseas again. I'm hoping this is his last tour and that he will retire this spring. Bull goes back and forth between our house and David's house and is giving serious consideration to leaving the Marine Corps when he fulfills his latest commitment.
The giant squid... is still recuperating from RUN AMOK WEEK!
Oh t'was glorious!
I outdid myself.
We had several peachy moments, a melted chocolate wrestling match, he vs. me pushups. (He had to do one-armed pushups while trying to toss me off his back - I won!) There were crunches while balancing me on his knees (Tsk. Ended up on his lap but fortunately, the band was tuning up and started to play.) We had a whispered tug-a-war with dares and threats and ended up in the closet... Naughty Vi hung a do-not-disturb sign on the door. One night when everyone else was in bed, we passed out on the living room floor in front of the fire. Woke up with dogs pushed up against our sides and all the cats sleeping on our bellies. The critters tried to follow us into the shower to continue the love fest but the giant squid managed to lock the door before a paw or a muzzle could wiggle its way inside.
I took a page from Cassie's blog... on one occasion when Cowboy was up before me and in the shower... I threw ice water over the shower door and it hit him as he was drying off. He bellowed... unadmirally phrases and I got the hell out of dodge!
Slid down the banister... the giant squid chasing me down the stairs. He was wearing a towel... He grabbed my arm; I grabbed his towel and Patrick segwayed by and asked nobody in particular... "Why is the Admiral running around in his birthday suit?"
Couldn't help myself. I laughed.
The giant squid yelled.
Then I yelled and made threats.
Unfortunately, he's bigger than I am and his threats were carried out as soon as we were back in our bedroom. Then the band tuned up and we were at it again.
Never a dull moment in our house. And...
In just a few days, it will be February! Chocolate month!
~Sar~
Max and Glory and Vi are still with us; Max's nurse may be leaving this weekend. We're hoping for good news from the doctor. Max is doing really well; he stands unassisted, walks a few steps on his own but can get around with a walker. His speech is getting clearer all the time; everyone can now understand all the naughty words he shouts for no particular reason... He's reading a little; learning to cheat at chess (not that I would know anything about that)... has a lot to say about the lack of fine cigars in his daily routine and the state of the world in general.
Patrick is still with us and will probably be going home soon. His mom has been away on business and expects to return any day now. We'll miss him. We'll also miss him flying through the house - dog in tow - on his Segway. Santa brought him one for Christmas and he has become addicted to speeding under his own power.
David is overseas again. I'm hoping this is his last tour and that he will retire this spring. Bull goes back and forth between our house and David's house and is giving serious consideration to leaving the Marine Corps when he fulfills his latest commitment.
The giant squid... is still recuperating from RUN AMOK WEEK!
Oh t'was glorious!
I outdid myself.
We had several peachy moments, a melted chocolate wrestling match, he vs. me pushups. (He had to do one-armed pushups while trying to toss me off his back - I won!) There were crunches while balancing me on his knees (Tsk. Ended up on his lap but fortunately, the band was tuning up and started to play.) We had a whispered tug-a-war with dares and threats and ended up in the closet... Naughty Vi hung a do-not-disturb sign on the door. One night when everyone else was in bed, we passed out on the living room floor in front of the fire. Woke up with dogs pushed up against our sides and all the cats sleeping on our bellies. The critters tried to follow us into the shower to continue the love fest but the giant squid managed to lock the door before a paw or a muzzle could wiggle its way inside.
I took a page from Cassie's blog... on one occasion when Cowboy was up before me and in the shower... I threw ice water over the shower door and it hit him as he was drying off. He bellowed... unadmirally phrases and I got the hell out of dodge!
Slid down the banister... the giant squid chasing me down the stairs. He was wearing a towel... He grabbed my arm; I grabbed his towel and Patrick segwayed by and asked nobody in particular... "Why is the Admiral running around in his birthday suit?"
Couldn't help myself. I laughed.
The giant squid yelled.
Then I yelled and made threats.
Unfortunately, he's bigger than I am and his threats were carried out as soon as we were back in our bedroom. Then the band tuned up and we were at it again.
Never a dull moment in our house. And...
In just a few days, it will be February! Chocolate month!
~Sar~
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Quick Note
A longer update will have to be postponed. We're in the middle of a blizzard; the power is intermittent. We're on 2 generators but computer use is limited to a very few minutees for the time being.
So this is a reminder: Hanukah just started; we're using a new menorah someone gave me; it's beeeeeuuuuuutiful! Christmas is this week, HURRAY! and..... are you sitting?
RUN AMOK WEEK starts Friday!
Oh Joy!
I have delicious plans to keep the giant squid less than calm... uh... I mean on his toes. Well... it's not easy to have a house full of company during this very special once-a-year week. And we're not even at home; we're at David's house in the San Juans. But I'm female - ergo - I'm resourceful.
I shared my plans with Glory and Vi who - naturally - thought there were some dadgum good ideas they needed to imitate. Poor Max, mostly confined to bed, won't be able to chase them. I think he'll be tickled though - Vi and Glory are beautiful women with a really naughty streak.
About our blizzard. Very rude of Mother Nature to do this to us. Blizzards are supposed to happen in North Dakota and Minnesota, maybe a mild one in Nebraska. Here in the mild temps of Washington state, it's against the law to dump more than 4 inches of snow in a 24-hour period except on very special occasions, like Sadie Hawkins Day.
I bundled up and sneaked onto the back deck to let the dogs out. Wowzers! It was mostly a whiteout but I noticed the Pacific winds were blowing huge waves up in the air and the water churned as those waves became incoming tide. A hugely awesome sight; I ran back into the house to get my camera.
Pretend there are sirens here: The giant squid caught me, growled some nonsense about the weather... coughing, sneezing, hateful green medicine, toasted buns (mine) etc.
I retaliated with no peachy things, no me, (not sure which should be listed first), cooks on strike and dogs in his bed.
The Neanderthal SWATTED me! But he did go out on the deck to capture those waves.
Later, Vi gave me a chunk of coal to put in his stocking. "Why do you have a chunk of coal with you?" I asked. She arched a brow. Okay, not asking any more questions. I feel certain this is something I don't need to know.
There were more swats when Cowboy came back into the house. I may have to revise my plans for Run Amok Week. He deserves the really naughty stuff.
Happy Holidays, my friends. Wishing you much joy and delightful memories for the New Year.
~Sar~
So this is a reminder: Hanukah just started; we're using a new menorah someone gave me; it's beeeeeuuuuuutiful! Christmas is this week, HURRAY! and..... are you sitting?
RUN AMOK WEEK starts Friday!
Oh Joy!
I have delicious plans to keep the giant squid less than calm... uh... I mean on his toes. Well... it's not easy to have a house full of company during this very special once-a-year week. And we're not even at home; we're at David's house in the San Juans. But I'm female - ergo - I'm resourceful.
I shared my plans with Glory and Vi who - naturally - thought there were some dadgum good ideas they needed to imitate. Poor Max, mostly confined to bed, won't be able to chase them. I think he'll be tickled though - Vi and Glory are beautiful women with a really naughty streak.
About our blizzard. Very rude of Mother Nature to do this to us. Blizzards are supposed to happen in North Dakota and Minnesota, maybe a mild one in Nebraska. Here in the mild temps of Washington state, it's against the law to dump more than 4 inches of snow in a 24-hour period except on very special occasions, like Sadie Hawkins Day.
I bundled up and sneaked onto the back deck to let the dogs out. Wowzers! It was mostly a whiteout but I noticed the Pacific winds were blowing huge waves up in the air and the water churned as those waves became incoming tide. A hugely awesome sight; I ran back into the house to get my camera.
Pretend there are sirens here: The giant squid caught me, growled some nonsense about the weather... coughing, sneezing, hateful green medicine, toasted buns (mine) etc.
I retaliated with no peachy things, no me, (not sure which should be listed first), cooks on strike and dogs in his bed.
The Neanderthal SWATTED me! But he did go out on the deck to capture those waves.
Later, Vi gave me a chunk of coal to put in his stocking. "Why do you have a chunk of coal with you?" I asked. She arched a brow. Okay, not asking any more questions. I feel certain this is something I don't need to know.
There were more swats when Cowboy came back into the house. I may have to revise my plans for Run Amok Week. He deserves the really naughty stuff.
Happy Holidays, my friends. Wishing you much joy and delightful memories for the New Year.
~Sar~
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Chaos: My Imp
Cowboy here: Didn't realize it had been so long since one of us touched base. We've been occupied almost 24/7 these last few weeks and now that the house is almost empty - about 8 of us left - there's a bit of time in the day to sit, think, write a bit.
Catching up: Once Max and his ladies were settled at David's house - nurse, physical therapist/speech therapist arranged, medical details, etc., Sar flew to DC to join me for official retirement ceremonies. I caught her up in my arms the minute she deplaned. I missed her; she missed enjoying Greece. Will have to make that up somehow.
I am officially retired from the U.S. Navy. Going to be an adjustment. Not going to the base or flying all over the world at the drop of a hat will be a new experience. Not being at sea will be the hardest I think. I always hated to leave my wife but I admit I was always at home at sea. Might have to take the imp on a cruise or 2.
There were ceremonies, lots of fancy meals followed by speeches, a Navy/Marine ball that blew everyone away. Wonderful entertainment, food, beautiful women. NONE were as beautiful as my wife. Sar wore a ball gown, upswept hair (I think that's what it's called.) and every man in the room wanted to dance with her. I cut that out before it got out of hand.
The imp promised a more private celebration when we got back to our hotel. Intimacies, late night food. I was ready to leave immediately. I got the caterer to make up a basket of sweet things for my bambina.
Flew home to Washington, ferried on to the San Juan Islands to David's house. That's when the chaos began. Thanksgiving preparations were in full swing. In a matter of days we had close to 20 folks spending the night, eating turkey and extras. 4 dogs, 4 cats, a tortoise, 30 or more for dinner. We have a few sailors/marines over every year. Sar's a good hostess, making everyone comfortable. Unfortunately the imp was busy with the meal, other things; she didn't eat as much as I would have liked.
The imp spends a great deal of time in Max's room. We have a male nurse for him. Max is making very slow progress but any progress is a good sign. Sar is encouraged. What makes her happy makes me happy. However the lack of a fair quantity of food has its repercussions. I warned her for every meal she eats that wouldn't keep a body going for long, a not so gentle spanking; for every meal she skips, a bottom warming to beat the band. The imp rolled her eyes.
The imp's eating more now that I've delivered the retribution.
David has been a good sport about having all of us here. He's got something planned about every day - games, walks on the beach, a sleigh ride today, a giant Christmas tree and a new menorah for Sar who likes the idea of 8 days of Hanukah (8 days of presents) plus all the Christmas festivities.
Patrick is here. Brought his dog. When he's not with Max he's shadowing Bull. He's growing up to be a special boy. Sar says the best part is that he still believes in Santa. (Come to think of it, so does Sar.) We're doing our best to keep him a kid as long as we can.
I'm glad to announce Sar is writing again. The imp has had some dark times lately. The writing outlet is a good thing. Helps those stress levels, helps cut down on the insomnia. She's lost a bit of weight but if she continues to eat as she has the last few days, it will be back in no time.
Christmas happenings are in full swing. All the ladies have decorated David's house. The tree is up, the dogs and cats have red bows. Stockings are hung and getting filled. The tortoise got her nails painted. Don't ask; I don't know who did that. It's a Sar thing to do but in this case I think she's not the guilty one.
My wife is in the fast lane, doing, feeding, taking care of, fixing. I yell; she laughs. I deliver a swat; she runs or turns, faces me, dares me to catch her. I do, deliver a few well-placed swats, toss her in the air, hurry to our bed. As my wife often says, the band plays on. I love how that woman loves me.
Sar has promised to update next. Soon, she said.
Wishing you all the joys of the season.
Cowboy
Catching up: Once Max and his ladies were settled at David's house - nurse, physical therapist/speech therapist arranged, medical details, etc., Sar flew to DC to join me for official retirement ceremonies. I caught her up in my arms the minute she deplaned. I missed her; she missed enjoying Greece. Will have to make that up somehow.
I am officially retired from the U.S. Navy. Going to be an adjustment. Not going to the base or flying all over the world at the drop of a hat will be a new experience. Not being at sea will be the hardest I think. I always hated to leave my wife but I admit I was always at home at sea. Might have to take the imp on a cruise or 2.
There were ceremonies, lots of fancy meals followed by speeches, a Navy/Marine ball that blew everyone away. Wonderful entertainment, food, beautiful women. NONE were as beautiful as my wife. Sar wore a ball gown, upswept hair (I think that's what it's called.) and every man in the room wanted to dance with her. I cut that out before it got out of hand.
The imp promised a more private celebration when we got back to our hotel. Intimacies, late night food. I was ready to leave immediately. I got the caterer to make up a basket of sweet things for my bambina.
Flew home to Washington, ferried on to the San Juan Islands to David's house. That's when the chaos began. Thanksgiving preparations were in full swing. In a matter of days we had close to 20 folks spending the night, eating turkey and extras. 4 dogs, 4 cats, a tortoise, 30 or more for dinner. We have a few sailors/marines over every year. Sar's a good hostess, making everyone comfortable. Unfortunately the imp was busy with the meal, other things; she didn't eat as much as I would have liked.
The imp spends a great deal of time in Max's room. We have a male nurse for him. Max is making very slow progress but any progress is a good sign. Sar is encouraged. What makes her happy makes me happy. However the lack of a fair quantity of food has its repercussions. I warned her for every meal she eats that wouldn't keep a body going for long, a not so gentle spanking; for every meal she skips, a bottom warming to beat the band. The imp rolled her eyes.
The imp's eating more now that I've delivered the retribution.
David has been a good sport about having all of us here. He's got something planned about every day - games, walks on the beach, a sleigh ride today, a giant Christmas tree and a new menorah for Sar who likes the idea of 8 days of Hanukah (8 days of presents) plus all the Christmas festivities.
Patrick is here. Brought his dog. When he's not with Max he's shadowing Bull. He's growing up to be a special boy. Sar says the best part is that he still believes in Santa. (Come to think of it, so does Sar.) We're doing our best to keep him a kid as long as we can.
I'm glad to announce Sar is writing again. The imp has had some dark times lately. The writing outlet is a good thing. Helps those stress levels, helps cut down on the insomnia. She's lost a bit of weight but if she continues to eat as she has the last few days, it will be back in no time.
Christmas happenings are in full swing. All the ladies have decorated David's house. The tree is up, the dogs and cats have red bows. Stockings are hung and getting filled. The tortoise got her nails painted. Don't ask; I don't know who did that. It's a Sar thing to do but in this case I think she's not the guilty one.
My wife is in the fast lane, doing, feeding, taking care of, fixing. I yell; she laughs. I deliver a swat; she runs or turns, faces me, dares me to catch her. I do, deliver a few well-placed swats, toss her in the air, hurry to our bed. As my wife often says, the band plays on. I love how that woman loves me.
Sar has promised to update next. Soon, she said.
Wishing you all the joys of the season.
Cowboy
Sunday, November 16, 2008
On Line Again
Was off line for about 6 weeks. Missed you, missed email, missed chatting with friends. I see the giant squid let you know that I abandoned him in Crete. Flew to Chicago to be with Max. Violet and Glory didn't have much to tell me. They tried to get the medics to give them details and prognosis but they wouldn't budge. They brought in their big guns... me.
Civilian medical personnel are very civil unless bullied. I demanded to know every detail of Max's condition. They answered in vague terms. I whipped out my cell phone and called Cowboy who called somebody "medical" at Bethesda Naval Hospital who called somebody else higher ranked than the Bethesda person who called the doctor standing in front of me. Then I got all the details I needed to know and a more understanding and compassionate medical staff.
Strokes and other horrendous medical events may be commonplace to some hospital personnel but to the person and family going through this event, it's (hopefully) a one-time event and extraordinarily stressful. I expect they want more than vague answers, too. Okay, off my soapbox.
When Max was stable, the medics recommended a rehab facility but after much discussion, they agreed he would be better off surrounded by family and as long as we had certified health care providers - nurse, various therapists - he could come home with me. I neglected to mention that my home was a couple thousand miles away from the hospital. Details.
My friend Alli's husband is an architect. His company has a business plane. She and I convinced him that it was in his company's best interest... to fly Max and Vi and Glory and me to the West coast. I've known Paul since he and Alli were married - upteen years ago. Cowboy and I are godparents to their four boys. Paul has known Max and the ladies for upteen years and agreed everyone would be more comfortable flying in a private plane. Max slept in a hospital bed the whole way home.
We're at David's house in the San Juans - Vi and Glory, city girls, are eating this up. Max has perked up a bit enjoying the sea air and the dogs and I are jogging on the beach early mornings. Glory is cooking. Vi is re-organizing David's house. Bull is eating... Max is doing splendidly with a physical therapist and a speech therapist! David is teaching Max to play chess. I am teaching Max how to win. Max rests a lot; I take catnaps in a chair by his bed when he does.
Cowboy wants to know if I'm getting enough rest and do I eat regular meals? Rolling my eyes here... the man can ask the dumbest questions. Tsk.
The three cats lay on Max's bed. DomTom tries to wash Max's face but his whiskers tickle which makes Max sneeze. Sneezing is good I think.
The tortoise chewed on a pair or Vi's shoes which she left out on the deck. Vi asked me to pick the lock on David's gun cabinet so she could shoot the tortoise... David immediately hid all the ammunition. Not too many of David's lady friends have come calling since they heard that Vi's aim is really good. Tortoise hid in her shell house until I coaxed her out with Twinkies.
And to think that the giant squid is missing all this excitement!
David is keeping score about how many times Cowboy should spank me when he gets home. I told him it's his word against mine. Hmmm, I hope that works in my favor.
Flying to DC for Cowboy's retirement ceremony. A few days of lunches, dinners, ceremonies. There's a special ball for senior-ranked retiring officers, very fancy. Instead of dress whites, Cowboy will be wearing "mess dress" which is the Navy's version of a tuxedo. Ladies are required to wear floor-length gowns. I have a luscious new gown for the occasion. Cowboy warned me NOT to wear blue jeans under my dress. Tsk! As if! Just because I had them on when I tried the dress on... He also mentioned that undies were a requirement. Sheesh! The Navy sure has a lot of dress rules.
He also warned me to be polite to the wives of other senior ranked officers who will be in attendance. Honestly, I'm always polite - not always civil - but always polite.
He mouthed off a bunch of other nonsense but I move on mentally when he starts lecturing. So while he went through a list of "do-not's," I planned a few holiday menus. Then I made mental notes to brush the dog's teeth, address Christmas cards, paint my toenails, and call Bull's mama to remind her we would have plenty of food when she arrived and that it wasn't necessary to bring her homemade possum pie or any other baked/roasted road kill. If she does, I'm afraid Vi will shoot it.
It took me a minute to realize Cowboy had stopped talking. Oh well, those things happen. The upside is that he's getting O-L-D and his memory is shot. The downside is that David will probably remind him of things best forgotten.
The only regret about cutting the Crete/Greece trip short... I wasn't there long enough to see what needed seeing and I didn't get a chance to do any Christmas shopping. I did get a few recipes which I'll post eventually.
I miss my guy something awful and will let him know how much when I see him in a few days. Glory will keep everyone fed while I'm away and Vi will make sure the medics are doing what's necessary for Max. She'll also keep David on his toes. His house is upside down with all of us here but he's genuinely happy to have us. I might have to break down and do something nice for the nasty Marine.
~Sar~
Civilian medical personnel are very civil unless bullied. I demanded to know every detail of Max's condition. They answered in vague terms. I whipped out my cell phone and called Cowboy who called somebody "medical" at Bethesda Naval Hospital who called somebody else higher ranked than the Bethesda person who called the doctor standing in front of me. Then I got all the details I needed to know and a more understanding and compassionate medical staff.
Strokes and other horrendous medical events may be commonplace to some hospital personnel but to the person and family going through this event, it's (hopefully) a one-time event and extraordinarily stressful. I expect they want more than vague answers, too. Okay, off my soapbox.
When Max was stable, the medics recommended a rehab facility but after much discussion, they agreed he would be better off surrounded by family and as long as we had certified health care providers - nurse, various therapists - he could come home with me. I neglected to mention that my home was a couple thousand miles away from the hospital. Details.
My friend Alli's husband is an architect. His company has a business plane. She and I convinced him that it was in his company's best interest... to fly Max and Vi and Glory and me to the West coast. I've known Paul since he and Alli were married - upteen years ago. Cowboy and I are godparents to their four boys. Paul has known Max and the ladies for upteen years and agreed everyone would be more comfortable flying in a private plane. Max slept in a hospital bed the whole way home.
We're at David's house in the San Juans - Vi and Glory, city girls, are eating this up. Max has perked up a bit enjoying the sea air and the dogs and I are jogging on the beach early mornings. Glory is cooking. Vi is re-organizing David's house. Bull is eating... Max is doing splendidly with a physical therapist and a speech therapist! David is teaching Max to play chess. I am teaching Max how to win. Max rests a lot; I take catnaps in a chair by his bed when he does.
Cowboy wants to know if I'm getting enough rest and do I eat regular meals? Rolling my eyes here... the man can ask the dumbest questions. Tsk.
The three cats lay on Max's bed. DomTom tries to wash Max's face but his whiskers tickle which makes Max sneeze. Sneezing is good I think.
The tortoise chewed on a pair or Vi's shoes which she left out on the deck. Vi asked me to pick the lock on David's gun cabinet so she could shoot the tortoise... David immediately hid all the ammunition. Not too many of David's lady friends have come calling since they heard that Vi's aim is really good. Tortoise hid in her shell house until I coaxed her out with Twinkies.
And to think that the giant squid is missing all this excitement!
David is keeping score about how many times Cowboy should spank me when he gets home. I told him it's his word against mine. Hmmm, I hope that works in my favor.
Flying to DC for Cowboy's retirement ceremony. A few days of lunches, dinners, ceremonies. There's a special ball for senior-ranked retiring officers, very fancy. Instead of dress whites, Cowboy will be wearing "mess dress" which is the Navy's version of a tuxedo. Ladies are required to wear floor-length gowns. I have a luscious new gown for the occasion. Cowboy warned me NOT to wear blue jeans under my dress. Tsk! As if! Just because I had them on when I tried the dress on... He also mentioned that undies were a requirement. Sheesh! The Navy sure has a lot of dress rules.
He also warned me to be polite to the wives of other senior ranked officers who will be in attendance. Honestly, I'm always polite - not always civil - but always polite.
He mouthed off a bunch of other nonsense but I move on mentally when he starts lecturing. So while he went through a list of "do-not's," I planned a few holiday menus. Then I made mental notes to brush the dog's teeth, address Christmas cards, paint my toenails, and call Bull's mama to remind her we would have plenty of food when she arrived and that it wasn't necessary to bring her homemade possum pie or any other baked/roasted road kill. If she does, I'm afraid Vi will shoot it.
It took me a minute to realize Cowboy had stopped talking. Oh well, those things happen. The upside is that he's getting O-L-D and his memory is shot. The downside is that David will probably remind him of things best forgotten.
The only regret about cutting the Crete/Greece trip short... I wasn't there long enough to see what needed seeing and I didn't get a chance to do any Christmas shopping. I did get a few recipes which I'll post eventually.
I miss my guy something awful and will let him know how much when I see him in a few days. Glory will keep everyone fed while I'm away and Vi will make sure the medics are doing what's necessary for Max. She'll also keep David on his toes. His house is upside down with all of us here but he's genuinely happy to have us. I might have to break down and do something nice for the nasty Marine.
~Sar~
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Unexpected Change in Plans
Cowboy here. Sar is in Chicago. We were barely settled in Crete when a call came in that Sar's foster Dad, Max, had another stroke. This one is more serious than the first. My wife took the first flight out, rushed to the hospital to be with him, Glory and Violet. One side of his body is immobile, speech almost nonexistent but starting to come back a bit. Docs say his recuperation is possible but it will be a slow process.
Those of you who know Sar know that hospitals/medics aren't on any list of the imp's favorites. Max was in intensive care unit until a few days ago. The nurse said she could visit for a few minutes, then had to leave. Glory said nobody knew what Sar said to the nurse but leaving Max alone was not an option; the nurse capitulated. That's my girl.
A group of Sar's childhood friends were called in to monitor Max, chauffeur the ladies home to rest, also to bring in "food a body can eat." Max and his ladies live close to downtown Chicago. Food of many varieties are abundantly available. I know mia bambina has not had much rest. I suspect Sar stays by Max's side to ensure the medics know she's supervising their actions. Glory tells me Sar has checked out rehab facilities, constantly urges Max to talk, often whispers prayers.
Vi says the imp is running out of steam. Alli, a longtime friend, dragged Sar out of the hospital one afternoon, took her to an animal shelter. Immediately, spirits were lifted. Sar played with a number of dogs, taught a few how to sit, probably gave all the shelter workers a great deal of entertainment. The shelter manager offered her a job. That's my girl.
I wrote the above a few days ago. Update: Max's condition has stabilized. It's time he moves to a rehab center or some similar facility. My wife informed me this morning that she is bringing him home - to David's house actually. The ladies love the beach; Max loves the ladies so it's the beach. Sar knew David would not object; Sar's childhood family is our family. Bull can't wait for them to arrive. Glory is the one who taught Sar to cook and bake; the food possibilities stagger the big kid.
If nothing changes, they'll stay at David's or our house through the holidays. Unless Sar is using Vi's laptop, mia bambina isn't on the Internet. I doubt she has excess time or energy for much of that right now. In the meantime, I'm in Crete till mid-November. I'll head to D.C. for official retirement ceremony. I'm hoping Sar will be able to fly in for that. If she can, we'll fly home together. I miss her.
Cowboy
Those of you who know Sar know that hospitals/medics aren't on any list of the imp's favorites. Max was in intensive care unit until a few days ago. The nurse said she could visit for a few minutes, then had to leave. Glory said nobody knew what Sar said to the nurse but leaving Max alone was not an option; the nurse capitulated. That's my girl.
A group of Sar's childhood friends were called in to monitor Max, chauffeur the ladies home to rest, also to bring in "food a body can eat." Max and his ladies live close to downtown Chicago. Food of many varieties are abundantly available. I know mia bambina has not had much rest. I suspect Sar stays by Max's side to ensure the medics know she's supervising their actions. Glory tells me Sar has checked out rehab facilities, constantly urges Max to talk, often whispers prayers.
Vi says the imp is running out of steam. Alli, a longtime friend, dragged Sar out of the hospital one afternoon, took her to an animal shelter. Immediately, spirits were lifted. Sar played with a number of dogs, taught a few how to sit, probably gave all the shelter workers a great deal of entertainment. The shelter manager offered her a job. That's my girl.
I wrote the above a few days ago. Update: Max's condition has stabilized. It's time he moves to a rehab center or some similar facility. My wife informed me this morning that she is bringing him home - to David's house actually. The ladies love the beach; Max loves the ladies so it's the beach. Sar knew David would not object; Sar's childhood family is our family. Bull can't wait for them to arrive. Glory is the one who taught Sar to cook and bake; the food possibilities stagger the big kid.
If nothing changes, they'll stay at David's or our house through the holidays. Unless Sar is using Vi's laptop, mia bambina isn't on the Internet. I doubt she has excess time or energy for much of that right now. In the meantime, I'm in Crete till mid-November. I'll head to D.C. for official retirement ceremony. I'm hoping Sar will be able to fly in for that. If she can, we'll fly home together. I miss her.
Cowboy
Friday, October 10, 2008
Hello from Crete, Greece
I know, I know. It's been forever since one of us posted. Mea culpa. Okay, that's out of the way.
First and foremost, your posts and emails with words of comfort about our Panda meant the world to me. They helped both of us through a trying time and mere words of thanks don't do justice to how much we appreciate your warm friendship. Thank you.
We were going to take SweetPea and BullyBoy with us, went through the time consuming challenge of getting both dogs vaccinated to European standards, new microchips, health papers, etc. Then we lost Panda and I didn't want Tank to be alone so we left them at home.
Currently, all the critters remain at David's house on the beach. Bull is taking care of them. Next week he'll be moving back to the mainland to our home and taking all the critters with him. I think all will be more comfortable there. David's housekeeper will come by periodically to make sure the man isn't starving to death. Both my freezers are full which should last the behemoth about a week and a half.
Greece: The Navy base here is actually in Crete - a beautiful island just south of the Greek mainland and bordering Souda Bay - to be exact. The U.S. Navy rents base space from the U.S. Air Force so naturally I had to ask the giant squid if the flyboys and the flying squids ever mixed it up. I got a "look" and a swat...
We left for Greece a week later than planned, then made an unplanned stopover in St. Louis, MO. My family - Max and Glory and Vi - were visiting friends there when Max was rushed to the hospital. He had a minor stroke, had temporary paralysis on one side and recovered fairly quickly. Cowboy and I got them back to their home in Chicago and stayed long enough to make sure Max was on the mend. By the time we got to Crete, I was a little worn out. We stayed in visiting officers' quarters for a couple of nights and now we're in a really lovely villa with a glorious view of the water.
The mainland isn't too far away and there are several shuttles - air as well as boat - that go back and forth daily. I've made the trip only once so far - the island here is just begging to be explored and I want to do that first. All over, there are food stands... need I say more? Sweet treats and olives! Cooking oils and bits of meats that are just soooooo delicious. (I haven't asked what kind of meat; sometimes it's best not to know all the details.)
Everywhere, the food is all "mom and pop" which is the best of course. No chain food restaurants here. The homemade feta is out of this world! The tzatziki sauce wunderbar! The pastries are impossibly delicious. I've been eating almost nonstop. Cowboy and I have sampled the fare at several family-run eateries and everyone has been most generous with sharing their recipes. We'll be eating "Greek" quite a bit when we get home so I can try out all those delicious dishes in my own kitchen.
The Navy wives billeted here are a friendly bunch and some of them invited me to lunch on the beach. I put a "decent" 2-piece swimsuit in my shoulder bag in case swimming was an option - weather in the high 60s-low 70s during the day - but no one was game. Tsk. Cowboy said that was a good thing; swimming in unfamiliar waters was never a good idea. Honestly... the man is talking like he's o-l-d.
SWAT!
Tsk! It's not like I packed a string bikini!
Err... yes I did but we don't need to discuss that.
There are numerous islands between Crete and Greece and all need to be visited, food sampled, et al. And then there's all those wonderful Greek cityscapes that are waiting. I want to visit the main tourist sites and see if I can get to the not-so-touristy sites. Cowboy was going to pay an off-duty squid to escort me here and there but he's worried I'll corrupt the young man and get him to take me places he doesn't think I should visit.
What? Me? Corrupt a young sailor? Where? When?
So he hired a 40-ish sailor...
I met the 40-ish squid... no problem. He's happy to show me all the sites; I'm happy to let him. Then... we'll see what happens next.
"You better behave, imp!" Cowboy declared.
"I'll just be my natural self," I agreed.
"That's what worries me!"
SWAT!
Laughing... plotting...
~Sar~
First and foremost, your posts and emails with words of comfort about our Panda meant the world to me. They helped both of us through a trying time and mere words of thanks don't do justice to how much we appreciate your warm friendship. Thank you.
We were going to take SweetPea and BullyBoy with us, went through the time consuming challenge of getting both dogs vaccinated to European standards, new microchips, health papers, etc. Then we lost Panda and I didn't want Tank to be alone so we left them at home.
Currently, all the critters remain at David's house on the beach. Bull is taking care of them. Next week he'll be moving back to the mainland to our home and taking all the critters with him. I think all will be more comfortable there. David's housekeeper will come by periodically to make sure the man isn't starving to death. Both my freezers are full which should last the behemoth about a week and a half.
Greece: The Navy base here is actually in Crete - a beautiful island just south of the Greek mainland and bordering Souda Bay - to be exact. The U.S. Navy rents base space from the U.S. Air Force so naturally I had to ask the giant squid if the flyboys and the flying squids ever mixed it up. I got a "look" and a swat...
We left for Greece a week later than planned, then made an unplanned stopover in St. Louis, MO. My family - Max and Glory and Vi - were visiting friends there when Max was rushed to the hospital. He had a minor stroke, had temporary paralysis on one side and recovered fairly quickly. Cowboy and I got them back to their home in Chicago and stayed long enough to make sure Max was on the mend. By the time we got to Crete, I was a little worn out. We stayed in visiting officers' quarters for a couple of nights and now we're in a really lovely villa with a glorious view of the water.
The mainland isn't too far away and there are several shuttles - air as well as boat - that go back and forth daily. I've made the trip only once so far - the island here is just begging to be explored and I want to do that first. All over, there are food stands... need I say more? Sweet treats and olives! Cooking oils and bits of meats that are just soooooo delicious. (I haven't asked what kind of meat; sometimes it's best not to know all the details.)
Everywhere, the food is all "mom and pop" which is the best of course. No chain food restaurants here. The homemade feta is out of this world! The tzatziki sauce wunderbar! The pastries are impossibly delicious. I've been eating almost nonstop. Cowboy and I have sampled the fare at several family-run eateries and everyone has been most generous with sharing their recipes. We'll be eating "Greek" quite a bit when we get home so I can try out all those delicious dishes in my own kitchen.
The Navy wives billeted here are a friendly bunch and some of them invited me to lunch on the beach. I put a "decent" 2-piece swimsuit in my shoulder bag in case swimming was an option - weather in the high 60s-low 70s during the day - but no one was game. Tsk. Cowboy said that was a good thing; swimming in unfamiliar waters was never a good idea. Honestly... the man is talking like he's o-l-d.
SWAT!
Tsk! It's not like I packed a string bikini!
Err... yes I did but we don't need to discuss that.
There are numerous islands between Crete and Greece and all need to be visited, food sampled, et al. And then there's all those wonderful Greek cityscapes that are waiting. I want to visit the main tourist sites and see if I can get to the not-so-touristy sites. Cowboy was going to pay an off-duty squid to escort me here and there but he's worried I'll corrupt the young man and get him to take me places he doesn't think I should visit.
What? Me? Corrupt a young sailor? Where? When?
So he hired a 40-ish sailor...
I met the 40-ish squid... no problem. He's happy to show me all the sites; I'm happy to let him. Then... we'll see what happens next.
"You better behave, imp!" Cowboy declared.
"I'll just be my natural self," I agreed.
"That's what worries me!"
SWAT!
Laughing... plotting...
~Sar~
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Panda
Cowboy here. Sadly, our Rott Panda passed away a few nights ago. Naturally my wife is having a hard time of it; she's grieving for a beloved pet. The saving grace is that the animal had a good life. The dog's last few months were filled with romps on the beach, good food, and in the company of loved ones.
The dog's lungs were fading. She had several bouts of pneumonia last winter. A constant cough left her weak, a bit debilitated. It was just a matter of time. In short, she died in Sar's arms, her mate, Tank, beside her. I finally had to pull Sar away from her; David had to separate Tank from the 2 of them so we could do what was necessary.
We've lost other dogs, a few cats over the years. Our first Rott and Bull Mastiff accompanied us from Florida to the West Coast. Both dogs, about the same age as Panda, were lost to cancer, dying within a week of each other. Our current dogs were a few months old at the time. I fully believe they are responsible for keeping my wife sane through that ordeal.
I'm aware that the death of a beloved pet does not compare with the death of a person. Due to the nature of my career, we've experienced the loss of too many friends to combat as well as family members. Losing a pet still hurts. Panda was more than a pet; she was a highly trained guard dog. Like our other dogs, the Rott was a certified therapy dog as well - visiting folks in hospitals, rehabilitation centers, schools for disabled children. She was particularly gentle around children and the elderly.
There are many stories that could be related about Panda's character, personality, her strength, loyalty, her bravery and her love for my wife as well as her mate. I'll let Sar tell these stories if she's so inclined. For now, she and Tank are comforting each other.
We fly to Greece in a few days. One of us will check back with you once we're settled.
Cowboy
The dog's lungs were fading. She had several bouts of pneumonia last winter. A constant cough left her weak, a bit debilitated. It was just a matter of time. In short, she died in Sar's arms, her mate, Tank, beside her. I finally had to pull Sar away from her; David had to separate Tank from the 2 of them so we could do what was necessary.
We've lost other dogs, a few cats over the years. Our first Rott and Bull Mastiff accompanied us from Florida to the West Coast. Both dogs, about the same age as Panda, were lost to cancer, dying within a week of each other. Our current dogs were a few months old at the time. I fully believe they are responsible for keeping my wife sane through that ordeal.
I'm aware that the death of a beloved pet does not compare with the death of a person. Due to the nature of my career, we've experienced the loss of too many friends to combat as well as family members. Losing a pet still hurts. Panda was more than a pet; she was a highly trained guard dog. Like our other dogs, the Rott was a certified therapy dog as well - visiting folks in hospitals, rehabilitation centers, schools for disabled children. She was particularly gentle around children and the elderly.
There are many stories that could be related about Panda's character, personality, her strength, loyalty, her bravery and her love for my wife as well as her mate. I'll let Sar tell these stories if she's so inclined. For now, she and Tank are comforting each other.
We fly to Greece in a few days. One of us will check back with you once we're settled.
Cowboy
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Good News & Better News!
...And one complaint.
First, the complaint. One of you, a diligent, loyal and faithful reader - sent me a v-e-r-y l-o-n-g email arguing the pros and cons of my blogging style. On the pro side, you said I usually post more than several paragraphs and fill you in on the highlights of living with a giant squid that has a tendency to swat. On the con side, it is "ages" between posts. You cited several bloggers - not all into TTWD - that post daily and/or 2-3 times a week. You said they have children, spouses, jobs, hobbies and even friends! And... they still have time to update their blogs with unfailing regularity.
Mea Culpa! (I hope that means I'm blameless even if I'm not Catholic.)
It's true. I'm only an "occasional" blogger. No excuses. That's me. Take it or leave it and if you're leaving, MORE chocolate for me! Between this and that and a few other things, life comes first.
Had a birthday recently and received momentous amounts of chocolate. This made me very happy. Happier was waking up to a loving cuddle etc from the giant squid. I had no idea the band played so well and so long at that hour of the morning but I asked for an immediate return engagement. Lots of presents and goodies to eat but BEST of all... drum roll here...
David and Bull are home from Afghanistan, a little worse for wear but home. They're both on the thin side and still tired but a little rest and plenty to eat and they'll be A-1 rated in no time. David gave me a list of foods he wants - I anticipated a lot of it and it was already waiting and in the freezer. Bull just said FOOD! It's no surprise the big fella didn't waste any time consuming most of what was in the refrigerator and freezer. This man is a non-stop eater. I mentioned that if he kept up that pace a bunch of sweet cows were going to die before their time. He didn't reply because his mouth was full. However, the squid replied in his fashion...
SWAT!
Tsk
Saw the heart doctor and he said all was well. I don't have to see him again for 6 months. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief with that news. Even the office vampires seemed happy about that. Of course that might have been because I figured out how to hook a leg around a knee and apply pressure if they take too much blood. Those kick boxing lessons really come in handy.
SWAT! "Don't hurt the techs, Sar. They're only doing their job."
Yeah, yeah, me too. Tsk. They've collected enough blood from me to start their own blood bank. Double tsk.
I've posted a BUNCH of new recipes in various categories. I try to add a few every day but frankly, cooking and baking nonstop for David and Bull and of course, all the other critters - FYI: a squid is a critter - I'm a little frazzled at the end of the day. Then, there's other matters that need my attention... like Mr. Superior Mortal's ego...
SWAT!
Laughing, but not too loudly.
~Sar~
First, the complaint. One of you, a diligent, loyal and faithful reader - sent me a v-e-r-y l-o-n-g email arguing the pros and cons of my blogging style. On the pro side, you said I usually post more than several paragraphs and fill you in on the highlights of living with a giant squid that has a tendency to swat. On the con side, it is "ages" between posts. You cited several bloggers - not all into TTWD - that post daily and/or 2-3 times a week. You said they have children, spouses, jobs, hobbies and even friends! And... they still have time to update their blogs with unfailing regularity.
Mea Culpa! (I hope that means I'm blameless even if I'm not Catholic.)
It's true. I'm only an "occasional" blogger. No excuses. That's me. Take it or leave it and if you're leaving, MORE chocolate for me! Between this and that and a few other things, life comes first.
Had a birthday recently and received momentous amounts of chocolate. This made me very happy. Happier was waking up to a loving cuddle etc from the giant squid. I had no idea the band played so well and so long at that hour of the morning but I asked for an immediate return engagement. Lots of presents and goodies to eat but BEST of all... drum roll here...
David and Bull are home from Afghanistan, a little worse for wear but home. They're both on the thin side and still tired but a little rest and plenty to eat and they'll be A-1 rated in no time. David gave me a list of foods he wants - I anticipated a lot of it and it was already waiting and in the freezer. Bull just said FOOD! It's no surprise the big fella didn't waste any time consuming most of what was in the refrigerator and freezer. This man is a non-stop eater. I mentioned that if he kept up that pace a bunch of sweet cows were going to die before their time. He didn't reply because his mouth was full. However, the squid replied in his fashion...
SWAT!
Tsk
Saw the heart doctor and he said all was well. I don't have to see him again for 6 months. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief with that news. Even the office vampires seemed happy about that. Of course that might have been because I figured out how to hook a leg around a knee and apply pressure if they take too much blood. Those kick boxing lessons really come in handy.
SWAT! "Don't hurt the techs, Sar. They're only doing their job."
Yeah, yeah, me too. Tsk. They've collected enough blood from me to start their own blood bank. Double tsk.
I've posted a BUNCH of new recipes in various categories. I try to add a few every day but frankly, cooking and baking nonstop for David and Bull and of course, all the other critters - FYI: a squid is a critter - I'm a little frazzled at the end of the day. Then, there's other matters that need my attention... like Mr. Superior Mortal's ego...
SWAT!
Laughing, but not too loudly.
~Sar~
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Mr. Superior Mortal
That's how someone I know referred to her husband recently. It was instant recognition. I live with a giant squid whose ego is bigger than Detroit so the moniker really fit. I've been calling him that now for a couple of weeks. Sometimes I say Mr. Superior Neanderthal or Admiral Superior. Makes him sound like he's as big as one of the five great lakes... Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, Superior. If his ego gets any bigger, I may have to say it rivals the size of Minneapolis/St. Paul.
SWAT!
Laughing softly, but laughing.
We're almost in countdown mode for the giant squid's retirement. A temporary duty assignment has come up which will take us overseas for a couple of months. When we get back - around Thanksgiving - we'll think about staying where we are or moving back east. I vote for staying here but a lot depends on what Cowboy wants to do with all his spare time. There's been offers from here and there but for now, I'm hoping he'll take it easy, think it over and maybe, spend some much needed time with moi. I have promised lots of peachy things (along with my body) if he doesn't rush into a new venture.
"Your body is mine, regardless," Mr. Superior Mortal intoned.
Trying very hard not to roll my eyes but it's really killing me.
SWAT!
The man has radar.
My Rott, Panda is still coughing. She has good days and not-so-good days. The coughing is doing nothing for her lungs and every time she coughs, her mate, Tank gets distressed. Our big male cat has taken her under his wing so to speak. He washes her face, ears and stays close by. The newest feline, Pipsqueak, sleeps on her back. This seems to comfort her and biggest surprise is that Tank doesn't push them away. Tank is the Rott who never met a cat he liked if he couldn't eat it.
We went to Patrick's camp on visitor's day. He pitched a NO HIT inning. Just about bust my buttons, I was sooooooo proud! He stands on the pitcher's mound with his leg braces strapped to the sides of a walker. This allows his upper body to move without restraint and there's no chance he'll lose his balance and fall. The legs of the walker are buried deep in the ground - such a neat arrangement the camp made for him. We took pictures and video and emailed them to his mom. She's working a summer job and couldn't attend. Also sent them to David and Bull overseas and got instant replies of how proud they were, too. Patrick was pretty much floating all day and suggested ice cream was in order. Cowboy treated the whole team. I got some, too.
In the "Oh Boy!" department, the kid asked Cowboy if I've been behaving since he left for camp. Cowboy laughed. He laughed! Patrick took that to mean I was naughty and asked if I had done anything he could share with the other campers. I immediately stole the giant squid's ice cream and stuffed my mouth - got brain freeze 'cause I ate it so fast.
Cowboy was still laughing so I pinched his butt.
He retaliated with a swat.
Patrick laughed.
So glad I'm the boy's entertainment. Tsk.
Got dragged to the base to see the doc. Was going to have an echo cardiogram and some other test I can't remember. But LO and BEHOLD! Doc had an emergency and we had to reschedule. Oh Joy! Some other medical type person said he could administer the tests. I told him - touch my body and die. I see the regular cardiologist next week.
On the recipe front, I have a whole bunch of new ones to post. I tried a bunch of new peachy things that Mr. Superior Mortal salivated over so he's feeling generous. I'm making a list. Christmas is just 18 weeks away and Santa might need a little help. It's a long list.
~Sar~
SWAT!
Laughing softly, but laughing.
We're almost in countdown mode for the giant squid's retirement. A temporary duty assignment has come up which will take us overseas for a couple of months. When we get back - around Thanksgiving - we'll think about staying where we are or moving back east. I vote for staying here but a lot depends on what Cowboy wants to do with all his spare time. There's been offers from here and there but for now, I'm hoping he'll take it easy, think it over and maybe, spend some much needed time with moi. I have promised lots of peachy things (along with my body) if he doesn't rush into a new venture.
"Your body is mine, regardless," Mr. Superior Mortal intoned.
Trying very hard not to roll my eyes but it's really killing me.
SWAT!
The man has radar.
My Rott, Panda is still coughing. She has good days and not-so-good days. The coughing is doing nothing for her lungs and every time she coughs, her mate, Tank gets distressed. Our big male cat has taken her under his wing so to speak. He washes her face, ears and stays close by. The newest feline, Pipsqueak, sleeps on her back. This seems to comfort her and biggest surprise is that Tank doesn't push them away. Tank is the Rott who never met a cat he liked if he couldn't eat it.
We went to Patrick's camp on visitor's day. He pitched a NO HIT inning. Just about bust my buttons, I was sooooooo proud! He stands on the pitcher's mound with his leg braces strapped to the sides of a walker. This allows his upper body to move without restraint and there's no chance he'll lose his balance and fall. The legs of the walker are buried deep in the ground - such a neat arrangement the camp made for him. We took pictures and video and emailed them to his mom. She's working a summer job and couldn't attend. Also sent them to David and Bull overseas and got instant replies of how proud they were, too. Patrick was pretty much floating all day and suggested ice cream was in order. Cowboy treated the whole team. I got some, too.
In the "Oh Boy!" department, the kid asked Cowboy if I've been behaving since he left for camp. Cowboy laughed. He laughed! Patrick took that to mean I was naughty and asked if I had done anything he could share with the other campers. I immediately stole the giant squid's ice cream and stuffed my mouth - got brain freeze 'cause I ate it so fast.
Cowboy was still laughing so I pinched his butt.
He retaliated with a swat.
Patrick laughed.
So glad I'm the boy's entertainment. Tsk.
Got dragged to the base to see the doc. Was going to have an echo cardiogram and some other test I can't remember. But LO and BEHOLD! Doc had an emergency and we had to reschedule. Oh Joy! Some other medical type person said he could administer the tests. I told him - touch my body and die. I see the regular cardiologist next week.
On the recipe front, I have a whole bunch of new ones to post. I tried a bunch of new peachy things that Mr. Superior Mortal salivated over so he's feeling generous. I'm making a list. Christmas is just 18 weeks away and Santa might need a little help. It's a long list.
~Sar~
Monday, August 04, 2008
Happiness
Cowboy here. My wife is having an extra sweet day - it's been a while since the last post so I'm posting a bit of an update. One of our Internet friends asked folks to describe the joy they're having today. That seemed like a good topic for discussion.
Joy started early at our house. Woke up to find a beautiful woman asleep next to me. Woke that beautiful woman with serious hugs and kisses. Sar's smiles make my day. Those hugs and kisses are like manna to a starving man. There were pancakes for breakfast, smothered in Sar's special peach brandy syrup. Wasn't expecting that but enjoyed it. (The imp tied a bib around my collar so I didn't get any on my uniform.) Gave her a swat for that.
Was away all morning but home for lunch. The house smelled like fresh baked bread. A favorite soup of mine was on the stove - Rhode Island clam chowder. The oven was on - peach upside down cake. Dropped my briefcase, went into the yard to cut some flowers, spotted Sar up a tree. She was taking aerial photos of the garden, very colorful this time of year.
I caught her around the waist as she climbed down. A hug and a swat followed. With her hip/leg pain she doesn't need to be climbing trees. I was labeled a dominant bully. I agreed.
Our Rott Panda is coughing again. Hard on the animal, hard on Sar. It hurts like hell to see the dog have any discomfort. Sar gives meds, hugs, a lot of comforting whispers, makes the dog's favorite foods. It's taking a toll. I told mia bambina we may have to consider letting the dog go peacefully. The vet says as long as the animal has a decent quality of life, is interested in eating, playing, etc., we should leave well enough alone. Tank has been her mate since they were adopted. He hasn't left her side. This coughing is hard on him as well.
Our God son, Patrick, is at camp. It's a mainstream camp - able bodied youngsters plus youngsters with special needs. Patrick attended last year, enjoyed it to the point that we sent him again. He called yesterday to tell us he's practicing to pitch in a baseball game. This is the young man - 11 this summer - that bats fairly well while someone else runs the bases for him. Don't know how he's going to pitch in leg braces, how he's going to keep his balance but I told him we're rooting for him. They're having visitor's day this weekend. We'll try to get there in time to watch him pitch.
Sar has another checkup. Cardiologist wants to verify that all is working right. The imp isn't any more enthusiastic about the medical appointment than she is about eating vegetables. According to my sources, the doc isn't enthusiastic either. I promised dire retribution if she's uncooperative. I won't repeat what she said but my arm gave an immediate response. I was labeled a Neanderthal. Reminded her that was old news. Now I'm waiting for a new title - Sar said she'd ask you for suggestions.
Cowboy
Joy started early at our house. Woke up to find a beautiful woman asleep next to me. Woke that beautiful woman with serious hugs and kisses. Sar's smiles make my day. Those hugs and kisses are like manna to a starving man. There were pancakes for breakfast, smothered in Sar's special peach brandy syrup. Wasn't expecting that but enjoyed it. (The imp tied a bib around my collar so I didn't get any on my uniform.) Gave her a swat for that.
Was away all morning but home for lunch. The house smelled like fresh baked bread. A favorite soup of mine was on the stove - Rhode Island clam chowder. The oven was on - peach upside down cake. Dropped my briefcase, went into the yard to cut some flowers, spotted Sar up a tree. She was taking aerial photos of the garden, very colorful this time of year.
I caught her around the waist as she climbed down. A hug and a swat followed. With her hip/leg pain she doesn't need to be climbing trees. I was labeled a dominant bully. I agreed.
Our Rott Panda is coughing again. Hard on the animal, hard on Sar. It hurts like hell to see the dog have any discomfort. Sar gives meds, hugs, a lot of comforting whispers, makes the dog's favorite foods. It's taking a toll. I told mia bambina we may have to consider letting the dog go peacefully. The vet says as long as the animal has a decent quality of life, is interested in eating, playing, etc., we should leave well enough alone. Tank has been her mate since they were adopted. He hasn't left her side. This coughing is hard on him as well.
Our God son, Patrick, is at camp. It's a mainstream camp - able bodied youngsters plus youngsters with special needs. Patrick attended last year, enjoyed it to the point that we sent him again. He called yesterday to tell us he's practicing to pitch in a baseball game. This is the young man - 11 this summer - that bats fairly well while someone else runs the bases for him. Don't know how he's going to pitch in leg braces, how he's going to keep his balance but I told him we're rooting for him. They're having visitor's day this weekend. We'll try to get there in time to watch him pitch.
Sar has another checkup. Cardiologist wants to verify that all is working right. The imp isn't any more enthusiastic about the medical appointment than she is about eating vegetables. According to my sources, the doc isn't enthusiastic either. I promised dire retribution if she's uncooperative. I won't repeat what she said but my arm gave an immediate response. I was labeled a Neanderthal. Reminded her that was old news. Now I'm waiting for a new title - Sar said she'd ask you for suggestions.
Cowboy
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Miss Me?
Oh Lord! I must be getting old. Time is flying faster than it used to. Could have sworn I updated the blog just a few days ago but apparently, it's been a little longer than that.
We had our annual 4th of July "doggie reunion" party. Over 50 dogs and their owners showed up. Consumed mountains of hot dogs and burgers and many many gallons of ice cream. I was "high" all day hugging all those pooches. They wiggled and wagged and were very generous with their kisses. Even the bi-polar German Shepherd dropped by with his Navy K-9 handler. The dog is still on Prozac.
Daisy, an English Mastiff waddled over to say hello. She was about 60 pounds underweight when I got her; she's topping the upper weight range for her breed now. Such a sweetie. Unfortunately, she still thinks she's a lapdog so I sat as soon as I saw her - 220 pounds is twice my weight. Most of the larger breeds I've fostered - Saint Bernards, Newfoundlands, Russian and Irish Wolfhounds, etc - have all been lapdogs. Mostly, just their heads fit on my lap but that didn't stop any of them from trying to get as close as they could. The best I could do was lie on the grass next to them. Caveat: If they rolled over on top of me, I was squashed to smithereens.
A few Rotts showed up and it was "hail fellow, well met" when my Rotts spotted them. Rotts are very picky about their canine friends, snobs actually. They tolerate other dogs but they really get sappy around their own breed. BullyBoy played with all the dogs; he doesn't have an intolerant bone in his body. The two Dobermans I retrained for a visually impaired/physically challenged lady were there, too. These two are getting on in age but still doing their job leading their person around, taking turns with her every day. So many others - it was really my kind of day.
Other stuff: Time for my semi annual medical checkups. I have an inflamed sciatic nerve. Doc recommended mild painkillers and wanted me to see a physical therapist. People... been there, done that. Not doing it again. Physical therapists are sadistic terrorists. And they have no sense of humor and get bent out of shape when one tries to eat a Twinkie during the torture session. I'm not sure but it's possible they're related to phlebotomists a.k.a. blood suckers a.k.a. vampires. Just my opinion of course.
"These are dedicated medical personnel," Cowboy said. "They're trying to make you feel better."
"By torturing me? No thanks. I'd rather eat a piece of broccoli."
SWAT!
"You're going if I have to drag you there!"
SWAT!
"No more peaches until 2010."
Long pause...
(The physical therapist is currently on hold.)
The doc was new - actually very nice - surprised me. He talked to ME instead of to the giant squid, was gentle, and told me everything he was going to do before he did it. I was really amazed. Cowboy was amazed I didn't hurt him. He felt my forehead to see if I had a fever. Tsk.
Nurses didn't hear the usual commotion that happens when I have an appointment so they came in to see if I was okay. Then one of them YELLED at my husband, demanding to know if he had threatened me in any way so I'd behave. Cowboy, who outranks them (and the doc) was backed up against a wall with his hands up in a defensive move swearing he didn't hurt me. Couldn't help myself; I laughed.
I was sooooo good I demanded a banana split. We went to a café near the base and splurged. After I ate mine, I ate most of Cowboy's portion. It was the least I could do.
Meanwhile, I'm not jogging, running or dancing and this is making me crankier than usual. To get some of that physical energy out, I'm gardening, walking briskly until the leg/thigh pain gets too much and then mumbling a lot. I'm trying calisthenics, stationery bike, upper body stuff and a lot of stretching. I say FUN GOOCH a lot.
Cowboy seems to think this deserves more than the occasional swat. He laughs that I can't run from him without hurting myself. Truly, the man has forgotten how devious I can be. I waxed the banister so I can slide down it faster, parked my car in the garage so I don't have to back out, and keep both dogs close to me whenever he's in a spanking mood. I also keep several peaches in my pocket to throw at him if I'm cornered. (My water gun is also fully loaded.) So far, so good. He says wait till bedtime. However... at bedtime I'm full of ideas on how to keep him occupied with more pleasant activities. I'm also open for suggestions. Feel free to send advice.
Pipsqueak, our newest member of the family is growing back some fur. She looks like she's more calico than anything else but until all her fur is back we won't know. The vet said some of the fur would come in, then fall out and then grow back in stronger. She still talks all day and continues to fascinate the dogs with her fearless attitude toward them. She recently discovered the wonderful taste of Cracker Jack and generously leaves a few for the giant squid... on his desk.
"Did you teach the cat to do that?" Cowboy demands to know as he wipes saliva ridden sticky caramel corn off his squeaky-clean desk.
"Me?"
"No! Santa Claus! Of course, YOU!"
"Santa was here? Ohhhhhhh when? Did you tell him how good I've been?"
"Sar!"
SWAT!
Tsk. Could have been worse. Pipsqueak could have left a caramel corn hairball in his shoes.
~Sar~
We had our annual 4th of July "doggie reunion" party. Over 50 dogs and their owners showed up. Consumed mountains of hot dogs and burgers and many many gallons of ice cream. I was "high" all day hugging all those pooches. They wiggled and wagged and were very generous with their kisses. Even the bi-polar German Shepherd dropped by with his Navy K-9 handler. The dog is still on Prozac.
Daisy, an English Mastiff waddled over to say hello. She was about 60 pounds underweight when I got her; she's topping the upper weight range for her breed now. Such a sweetie. Unfortunately, she still thinks she's a lapdog so I sat as soon as I saw her - 220 pounds is twice my weight. Most of the larger breeds I've fostered - Saint Bernards, Newfoundlands, Russian and Irish Wolfhounds, etc - have all been lapdogs. Mostly, just their heads fit on my lap but that didn't stop any of them from trying to get as close as they could. The best I could do was lie on the grass next to them. Caveat: If they rolled over on top of me, I was squashed to smithereens.
A few Rotts showed up and it was "hail fellow, well met" when my Rotts spotted them. Rotts are very picky about their canine friends, snobs actually. They tolerate other dogs but they really get sappy around their own breed. BullyBoy played with all the dogs; he doesn't have an intolerant bone in his body. The two Dobermans I retrained for a visually impaired/physically challenged lady were there, too. These two are getting on in age but still doing their job leading their person around, taking turns with her every day. So many others - it was really my kind of day.
Other stuff: Time for my semi annual medical checkups. I have an inflamed sciatic nerve. Doc recommended mild painkillers and wanted me to see a physical therapist. People... been there, done that. Not doing it again. Physical therapists are sadistic terrorists. And they have no sense of humor and get bent out of shape when one tries to eat a Twinkie during the torture session. I'm not sure but it's possible they're related to phlebotomists a.k.a. blood suckers a.k.a. vampires. Just my opinion of course.
"These are dedicated medical personnel," Cowboy said. "They're trying to make you feel better."
"By torturing me? No thanks. I'd rather eat a piece of broccoli."
SWAT!
"You're going if I have to drag you there!"
SWAT!
"No more peaches until 2010."
Long pause...
(The physical therapist is currently on hold.)
The doc was new - actually very nice - surprised me. He talked to ME instead of to the giant squid, was gentle, and told me everything he was going to do before he did it. I was really amazed. Cowboy was amazed I didn't hurt him. He felt my forehead to see if I had a fever. Tsk.
Nurses didn't hear the usual commotion that happens when I have an appointment so they came in to see if I was okay. Then one of them YELLED at my husband, demanding to know if he had threatened me in any way so I'd behave. Cowboy, who outranks them (and the doc) was backed up against a wall with his hands up in a defensive move swearing he didn't hurt me. Couldn't help myself; I laughed.
I was sooooo good I demanded a banana split. We went to a café near the base and splurged. After I ate mine, I ate most of Cowboy's portion. It was the least I could do.
Meanwhile, I'm not jogging, running or dancing and this is making me crankier than usual. To get some of that physical energy out, I'm gardening, walking briskly until the leg/thigh pain gets too much and then mumbling a lot. I'm trying calisthenics, stationery bike, upper body stuff and a lot of stretching. I say FUN GOOCH a lot.
Cowboy seems to think this deserves more than the occasional swat. He laughs that I can't run from him without hurting myself. Truly, the man has forgotten how devious I can be. I waxed the banister so I can slide down it faster, parked my car in the garage so I don't have to back out, and keep both dogs close to me whenever he's in a spanking mood. I also keep several peaches in my pocket to throw at him if I'm cornered. (My water gun is also fully loaded.) So far, so good. He says wait till bedtime. However... at bedtime I'm full of ideas on how to keep him occupied with more pleasant activities. I'm also open for suggestions. Feel free to send advice.
Pipsqueak, our newest member of the family is growing back some fur. She looks like she's more calico than anything else but until all her fur is back we won't know. The vet said some of the fur would come in, then fall out and then grow back in stronger. She still talks all day and continues to fascinate the dogs with her fearless attitude toward them. She recently discovered the wonderful taste of Cracker Jack and generously leaves a few for the giant squid... on his desk.
"Did you teach the cat to do that?" Cowboy demands to know as he wipes saliva ridden sticky caramel corn off his squeaky-clean desk.
"Me?"
"No! Santa Claus! Of course, YOU!"
"Santa was here? Ohhhhhhh when? Did you tell him how good I've been?"
"Sar!"
SWAT!
Tsk. Could have been worse. Pipsqueak could have left a caramel corn hairball in his shoes.
~Sar~
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Mea Culpa
Life is busy, mostly chaotic and usually fun. Cowboy's been home for a little while and as usual, he makes demands... Some make me laugh; most I ignore and since he's so o-l-d, he's not able to catch me as quickly as he used to. Ooooo, cool breeze. I feel a swat coming...
I called the "Wild Animal Rental" place to see if that birthday party camel was available for 4th of July weekend but it was already booked. Tsk. We're expecting 40-50 dogs plus their owners. These are the dogs we've fostered over the years. Some no longer live in the area but most have RSVP'ed that they will be here. I'm excited about seeing them again. I hope they're still well behaved. I'll be putting whole groups of them through their paces. We'll have the cooking grills set up - hot dogs and burgers for pups and their people. Ice cream, too. Later, in the evening, a pyrotechnic outfit will be putting on a fireworks show at the neighborhood park. It should be great fun.
The Bulldog pups are absolutely adorable. They're all weaned now, mostly stand in their food dish while they eat. All have families waiting for them - about 2 more weeks and they'll go to their forever home - so I didn't want to name them. I put a different colored ribbon around their necks, refer to them as Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Mo and Monster. Monster has his nose in everything, most of which is not happy about it - BullyBoy's stomach, DomTom's ears, the Rott's dish, etc. Curious boy. The mastiff noses the little guy out of the way; the Rott shoves him and the cat smacks him upside the head. That one's going to be a handful. I hear muttering in the background... who could that be?
Some of Cowboy's old SEAL team members were here visiting. I mostly ignored them. They were drinking wine, swapping stories and doing a lot of that male bonding nonsense.
SWAT!
Tsk
Then, they started singing songs - raunchy ones. I immediately went downstairs and started throwing fish at them - SEALS... - frozen shrimp, scallops, halibut cheeks... My gesture was completely shunned and I got a certain look from the biggest (and oldest) SEAL in the crowd.
Laughing softly... I opened more wine for them and looked around for my miniature tape recorder. I love having ammunition for future situations. For our next family get-together, I might play the tape to show people what I have to endure when SEALs get tipsy.
SWAT!
Tsk
Brought the cat home from the shelter. This is the little darling that was set on fire and is slowly growing its fur back. About 10 months old the vet decided. Her name is Pipsqueak - that's the sound she makes when she has something to say and believe me, she has a LOT to say. Very cuddly and affectionate despite the trauma she suffered. She adores the mastiff and apparently, the feeling is mutual. He drools on her head regularly. Ewww.
My SweetPea doesn't care for cats but seems to understand that this one needs a lot of affection. The dog doesn't growl or shove her away, simply lets her crawl up next to him. When she squeaks at him, he tries to look nonchalant and ignores her. The other cats aren't sure what to make of her yet but they're tolerant for the most part.
The heat is killing us - we're not used to heat out here. I have fans running in all the rooms and naturally, the dogs are hogging them (along with a giant squid) and until it cools down, I'm not baking. No peach cobbler on the horizon.
"The peaches are ripe, bambina."
"Uh huh."
"Do something about that. Use them up so they don't go to waste."
Hauled a bushel of peaches to the upstairs bathroom. Stripped, got in the shower and squeezed peaches all over my naked self. Invited the giant squid upstairs. He took one look, clothes went flying and he "helped himself" to the peach crop.
He's o-l-d but he still has what it takes to consume peaches.
"Good?" I asked some time later.
"Delicious!" he said.
"Damn straight!"
SWAT!
Tsk
~Sar~
I called the "Wild Animal Rental" place to see if that birthday party camel was available for 4th of July weekend but it was already booked. Tsk. We're expecting 40-50 dogs plus their owners. These are the dogs we've fostered over the years. Some no longer live in the area but most have RSVP'ed that they will be here. I'm excited about seeing them again. I hope they're still well behaved. I'll be putting whole groups of them through their paces. We'll have the cooking grills set up - hot dogs and burgers for pups and their people. Ice cream, too. Later, in the evening, a pyrotechnic outfit will be putting on a fireworks show at the neighborhood park. It should be great fun.
The Bulldog pups are absolutely adorable. They're all weaned now, mostly stand in their food dish while they eat. All have families waiting for them - about 2 more weeks and they'll go to their forever home - so I didn't want to name them. I put a different colored ribbon around their necks, refer to them as Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Mo and Monster. Monster has his nose in everything, most of which is not happy about it - BullyBoy's stomach, DomTom's ears, the Rott's dish, etc. Curious boy. The mastiff noses the little guy out of the way; the Rott shoves him and the cat smacks him upside the head. That one's going to be a handful. I hear muttering in the background... who could that be?
Some of Cowboy's old SEAL team members were here visiting. I mostly ignored them. They were drinking wine, swapping stories and doing a lot of that male bonding nonsense.
SWAT!
Tsk
Then, they started singing songs - raunchy ones. I immediately went downstairs and started throwing fish at them - SEALS... - frozen shrimp, scallops, halibut cheeks... My gesture was completely shunned and I got a certain look from the biggest (and oldest) SEAL in the crowd.
Laughing softly... I opened more wine for them and looked around for my miniature tape recorder. I love having ammunition for future situations. For our next family get-together, I might play the tape to show people what I have to endure when SEALs get tipsy.
SWAT!
Tsk
Brought the cat home from the shelter. This is the little darling that was set on fire and is slowly growing its fur back. About 10 months old the vet decided. Her name is Pipsqueak - that's the sound she makes when she has something to say and believe me, she has a LOT to say. Very cuddly and affectionate despite the trauma she suffered. She adores the mastiff and apparently, the feeling is mutual. He drools on her head regularly. Ewww.
My SweetPea doesn't care for cats but seems to understand that this one needs a lot of affection. The dog doesn't growl or shove her away, simply lets her crawl up next to him. When she squeaks at him, he tries to look nonchalant and ignores her. The other cats aren't sure what to make of her yet but they're tolerant for the most part.
The heat is killing us - we're not used to heat out here. I have fans running in all the rooms and naturally, the dogs are hogging them (along with a giant squid) and until it cools down, I'm not baking. No peach cobbler on the horizon.
"The peaches are ripe, bambina."
"Uh huh."
"Do something about that. Use them up so they don't go to waste."
Hauled a bushel of peaches to the upstairs bathroom. Stripped, got in the shower and squeezed peaches all over my naked self. Invited the giant squid upstairs. He took one look, clothes went flying and he "helped himself" to the peach crop.
He's o-l-d but he still has what it takes to consume peaches.
"Good?" I asked some time later.
"Delicious!" he said.
"Damn straight!"
SWAT!
Tsk
~Sar~
Sunday, June 15, 2008
About those prayers--
Spanking Neanderthal checking in. I'm in the Carolinas looking around. I told Sar I'd be making this trip. If it looks promising, I'll bring her back another time. Wanted to do this before the summer tourists arrive and do it at my leisure. Will return home end of next week. Plan to stay put until late summer/early fall. At that time, the imp and I will head overseas together. More about that another time.
Made it home for birthday celebrations. As usual, mia bambina outdid herself. Didn't know who the male stripper was supposed to be - damn grateful he backed out. There was a camel which the imp insisted I ride. That's because the ponies she hired could hold the female guests but none of the male. On top of that, there was a damn elephant! Some kid in the neighborhood had a birthday party, had a camel, my wife was there, the rest was easy to figure out. So Sar gets on a pony. I'm on the camel. She challenges me to a race. While the imp passes the finish line, the camel I'm on is busy chewing grass. I give it a nudge to move. It spits. Everybody laughs. I give the imp a certain look. The imp laughs.
About those bulldog pups. Sar says I didn't get a look. I got a look. Ok, 5 of them but give me a break here. 5 puppies that aren't weaned, need feeding and all that involves, grooming, etc. The woman I married never met a dog she didn't love - will probably have them sit, down, come and watch her before they're another week old. There was no need for 5 more dogs. I told her they get adopted ASAP or I'll toast her tush every day we have them longer than necessary. Sar laughed. About those prayers?
Somebody drank my merlot! I don't care who or what but somebody should replace my merlot before I get home. Somebody should have known better. Somebody got more than a few swats. Same somebody laughed.
There's more. I was in Europe longer than expected. Apparently Sar thought that was license to clean out my closet - lost my favorite sweatshirt, some t-shirts, shoes, socks, God knows what else. She *straightened* the garage. More prayers please! Nails, drill bits, other small things reorganized, lined up by size. Ok, not too bad except for- "didn't see any use for some thingamajigs I couldn't identify so I threw them away." Just about bit my tongue off gritting my teeth! No laughter when I upended her. Got suggestions for a food taster, though.
All mischief aside, I'm still the luckiest guy on the planet. Living life to the fullest is just one of a lot of things that woman does that keeps me sane, keeps me young, often keeps her upended but you knew that.
During the few days I was home there was a military function we attended, dress whites for me, ball gown for mia amore. Sar wore a new gown, dark blue and long, the sapphire earrings I gave her for our first Christmas a lot of years ago. I was the proudest officer there, no one else comes close to the beautiful woman I married. Sar carried a small shoulder bag. I happened to bump it, it seemed a little heavy for lipstick and such. I asked what was in it. A chocolate bar in case she got hungry, a yo-yo in case she got bored. Said she was gonna get a swat for that. Yep. The imp laughed.
I read the last entry to the blog. My wife left a few things out. The list is lengthy even for the imp.
Adjusted the showerhead in exercise room to high, the temp to cold so when I stepped in the shower after my morning workout, I was blasted with ice water in the face.
Set the treadmill on high speed - just about fell on my face.
Put all the Cracker Jack prizes she saves for me in the safe "because it takes forever to collect them."
Added a bumper sticker to my SUV. "If you think I'm sexy, honk." I'm out running errands, wondering why a bunch of folks are honking - woman & MEN! What the hell? I load bags in the car, I see the bumper sticker. The imp has that innocent look on her face.
Emailed Santa not to believe false rumors.
I took care of all of this mischief while I was home. However, there's a strong possibility I will address it again next week. I told her there's been enough mischief at our house to last a lifetime. Sar said it was good fun. Probably but I think this is the "payback is a bitch" thing for staying in Europe too long. I know she missed me. God knows I go nuts when she isn't with me.
There's a possible third cat on the horizon. This would give us 4 dogs plus 3 cats. The bulldog pups are fosters, that's temporary. It seems Sar was at the shelter, saw a cat that was recovering from surgery. The critter had been set afire by some punks. In the process, the cat inhaled too much smoke, some of it damaged vocal cords so it makes little noise. Because the fur will look bad for a while, chances are slim the animal will be adopted. I told mia bambina it is impossible to save every needy animal out there. Sar's reply was she could save this one. We'll see.
Yeah, a little retribution is in order. Don't panic. Spanking Neanderthals and imps are a good match. Meanwhile, good thoughts are always welcome.
Cowboy
Made it home for birthday celebrations. As usual, mia bambina outdid herself. Didn't know who the male stripper was supposed to be - damn grateful he backed out. There was a camel which the imp insisted I ride. That's because the ponies she hired could hold the female guests but none of the male. On top of that, there was a damn elephant! Some kid in the neighborhood had a birthday party, had a camel, my wife was there, the rest was easy to figure out. So Sar gets on a pony. I'm on the camel. She challenges me to a race. While the imp passes the finish line, the camel I'm on is busy chewing grass. I give it a nudge to move. It spits. Everybody laughs. I give the imp a certain look. The imp laughs.
About those bulldog pups. Sar says I didn't get a look. I got a look. Ok, 5 of them but give me a break here. 5 puppies that aren't weaned, need feeding and all that involves, grooming, etc. The woman I married never met a dog she didn't love - will probably have them sit, down, come and watch her before they're another week old. There was no need for 5 more dogs. I told her they get adopted ASAP or I'll toast her tush every day we have them longer than necessary. Sar laughed. About those prayers?
Somebody drank my merlot! I don't care who or what but somebody should replace my merlot before I get home. Somebody should have known better. Somebody got more than a few swats. Same somebody laughed.
There's more. I was in Europe longer than expected. Apparently Sar thought that was license to clean out my closet - lost my favorite sweatshirt, some t-shirts, shoes, socks, God knows what else. She *straightened* the garage. More prayers please! Nails, drill bits, other small things reorganized, lined up by size. Ok, not too bad except for- "didn't see any use for some thingamajigs I couldn't identify so I threw them away." Just about bit my tongue off gritting my teeth! No laughter when I upended her. Got suggestions for a food taster, though.
All mischief aside, I'm still the luckiest guy on the planet. Living life to the fullest is just one of a lot of things that woman does that keeps me sane, keeps me young, often keeps her upended but you knew that.
During the few days I was home there was a military function we attended, dress whites for me, ball gown for mia amore. Sar wore a new gown, dark blue and long, the sapphire earrings I gave her for our first Christmas a lot of years ago. I was the proudest officer there, no one else comes close to the beautiful woman I married. Sar carried a small shoulder bag. I happened to bump it, it seemed a little heavy for lipstick and such. I asked what was in it. A chocolate bar in case she got hungry, a yo-yo in case she got bored. Said she was gonna get a swat for that. Yep. The imp laughed.
I read the last entry to the blog. My wife left a few things out. The list is lengthy even for the imp.
Adjusted the showerhead in exercise room to high, the temp to cold so when I stepped in the shower after my morning workout, I was blasted with ice water in the face.
Set the treadmill on high speed - just about fell on my face.
Put all the Cracker Jack prizes she saves for me in the safe "because it takes forever to collect them."
Added a bumper sticker to my SUV. "If you think I'm sexy, honk." I'm out running errands, wondering why a bunch of folks are honking - woman & MEN! What the hell? I load bags in the car, I see the bumper sticker. The imp has that innocent look on her face.
Emailed Santa not to believe false rumors.
I took care of all of this mischief while I was home. However, there's a strong possibility I will address it again next week. I told her there's been enough mischief at our house to last a lifetime. Sar said it was good fun. Probably but I think this is the "payback is a bitch" thing for staying in Europe too long. I know she missed me. God knows I go nuts when she isn't with me.
There's a possible third cat on the horizon. This would give us 4 dogs plus 3 cats. The bulldog pups are fosters, that's temporary. It seems Sar was at the shelter, saw a cat that was recovering from surgery. The critter had been set afire by some punks. In the process, the cat inhaled too much smoke, some of it damaged vocal cords so it makes little noise. Because the fur will look bad for a while, chances are slim the animal will be adopted. I told mia bambina it is impossible to save every needy animal out there. Sar's reply was she could save this one. We'll see.
Yeah, a little retribution is in order. Don't panic. Spanking Neanderthals and imps are a good match. Meanwhile, good thoughts are always welcome.
Cowboy
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Late to the Party Again!
I know! I know! It's been a long time since I posted. Mea culpa, life has grabbed ahold of me and is squeezing toooooo hard!
This is just a brief note 'cause I'm swamped but the giant squid said he'd update this blog today or tomorrow. He promised. He always keeps his promises, especially the ones I wish he'd forget... never mind.
I believe it is my patriotic duty to let you know - in advance - that you shouldn't believe everything he says... We did NOT have a male stripper at his birthday party. Truth is, the wuss backed out when he realized the party was for his commanding officer. But I did rent a camel.
A Naval officer of some rank gleefully said... "I hear the Admiral spanked you." It's not true that I said... "I hear the Admiral demoted you." Wellll I said something similar but those were NOT my exact words. Tsk.
It's not true that I brought a dozen dogs back from the shelter to take up temporary residence in our kennels. I was delivering a few bags of dry dog food and as always, I wander through the building to see if there are any pups that will be turned over to pure dog rescue and might come to my attention in the next few weeks. HONEST! I was just looking. You know how life sometimes just grabs you and no matter what you were doing or thinking... it takes you on a fork in the road that you hadn't explored before? Welllll I heard squealing and other puppy noises so I followed those sounds.
A couple of teeny tiny baby bulldogs - all by themselves - their mama died - had to be hand fed - were currently 4 - 5 weeks old. WRINKLES! I felt weak just looking at them. The shelter caretaker let me take them out so I could play with them in their puppy room. I sat on the floor and they crawled all over me. I couldn't stop hugging them. They had PUPPY BREATH and pink bellies! Ohhhhhhh I fell in love and took them home to foster.
I think it was meant to be. That's what I told Cowboy. It is against my religion - Sar-ism - to repeat the naughty things he said, especially because he muttered the words in Italian and it's so easy to exaggerate in that language. And when he tells you there were a DOZEN puppies, he is so o-l-d, he's forgotten how to count correctly. 12 does not follow 4. There were only uh... five of them. And they're so small! All together they probably are as big as one bulldog, maybe 1 1/2. They're in the house until they are big enough to stay in the kennels. The cats immediately took charge and are keeping them groomed.
And furthermore, I did not drink his merlot. SweetPea did.
And... no matter what David says, I did not send slinkies to the marines in Iraq. I sent yo-yo's (to the marines in Afghanistan.)
I'm sure he'll tell you other awful things. Please remember I'm a saint who lives with a Neanderthal, a spanking Neanderthal.
Tsk.
Final rant: Can you believe Mother Nature? Tomatoes are suspect! Why couldn't she have ruined the broccoli crops? I love tomatoes! I can barely tolerate looking at broccoli. DOUBLE tsk!
Cowboy was home for his birthday and now he's up and left AGAIN. But I saw his return flight voucher and I know he'll be home next week. I went out of my way to make a new peach cake that was SO delicious the pups and I ate the whole thing. I told him about it in an email. He said you're making that for me when I come home, right?
LOL! Doesn't he know peaches are way too expensive these days? (I wonder if the baby bullies like peaches?)
~Sar~
This is just a brief note 'cause I'm swamped but the giant squid said he'd update this blog today or tomorrow. He promised. He always keeps his promises, especially the ones I wish he'd forget... never mind.
I believe it is my patriotic duty to let you know - in advance - that you shouldn't believe everything he says... We did NOT have a male stripper at his birthday party. Truth is, the wuss backed out when he realized the party was for his commanding officer. But I did rent a camel.
A Naval officer of some rank gleefully said... "I hear the Admiral spanked you." It's not true that I said... "I hear the Admiral demoted you." Wellll I said something similar but those were NOT my exact words. Tsk.
It's not true that I brought a dozen dogs back from the shelter to take up temporary residence in our kennels. I was delivering a few bags of dry dog food and as always, I wander through the building to see if there are any pups that will be turned over to pure dog rescue and might come to my attention in the next few weeks. HONEST! I was just looking. You know how life sometimes just grabs you and no matter what you were doing or thinking... it takes you on a fork in the road that you hadn't explored before? Welllll I heard squealing and other puppy noises so I followed those sounds.
A couple of teeny tiny baby bulldogs - all by themselves - their mama died - had to be hand fed - were currently 4 - 5 weeks old. WRINKLES! I felt weak just looking at them. The shelter caretaker let me take them out so I could play with them in their puppy room. I sat on the floor and they crawled all over me. I couldn't stop hugging them. They had PUPPY BREATH and pink bellies! Ohhhhhhh I fell in love and took them home to foster.
I think it was meant to be. That's what I told Cowboy. It is against my religion - Sar-ism - to repeat the naughty things he said, especially because he muttered the words in Italian and it's so easy to exaggerate in that language. And when he tells you there were a DOZEN puppies, he is so o-l-d, he's forgotten how to count correctly. 12 does not follow 4. There were only uh... five of them. And they're so small! All together they probably are as big as one bulldog, maybe 1 1/2. They're in the house until they are big enough to stay in the kennels. The cats immediately took charge and are keeping them groomed.
And furthermore, I did not drink his merlot. SweetPea did.
And... no matter what David says, I did not send slinkies to the marines in Iraq. I sent yo-yo's (to the marines in Afghanistan.)
I'm sure he'll tell you other awful things. Please remember I'm a saint who lives with a Neanderthal, a spanking Neanderthal.
Tsk.
Final rant: Can you believe Mother Nature? Tomatoes are suspect! Why couldn't she have ruined the broccoli crops? I love tomatoes! I can barely tolerate looking at broccoli. DOUBLE tsk!
Cowboy was home for his birthday and now he's up and left AGAIN. But I saw his return flight voucher and I know he'll be home next week. I went out of my way to make a new peach cake that was SO delicious the pups and I ate the whole thing. I told him about it in an email. He said you're making that for me when I come home, right?
LOL! Doesn't he know peaches are way too expensive these days? (I wonder if the baby bullies like peaches?)
~Sar~
Sunday, May 25, 2008
My Wife
Cowboy here. Sar seems to forget that I can read the blog even when I'm out of the country. I'll be home next week so I'll catch up on all her mischief then.
I see the blog hasn't updated lately but I'll tell you what I know.
I call everyday, sometimes 2 or more times. Don't mind telling you I miss the imp. Nighttime is hard but being unable to look at her or touch her is damn hard too. Yeah I miss her teasing, cooking and more I won't discuss.
I asked if she was behaving. The imp declared that she's always been a saint. Uh huh. Sar spent some time out at David's house on the island - he's away at the moment. Brought all the dogs and cats plus the dog that was being fostered. She hosted a "sweet" lunch for lady friends. That means a lot of dessert and I don't know what else. From past experience I know they got into mischief but what actually happened I won't know until I get home. With a bit of luck, David's house is still standing. Hopefully it hasn't been painted pink. Sar's lady friends are prone to leaving man-sized lingerie for him hanging in full view plus other embarrassing items. Sar assures me that's to let him know everyone thinks of him while he's off doing "marine" things.
I think a swat is in order for that remark alone.
When I called a couple weeks back, the conversation started off with "I may as well tell you--" which means something occurred that I'm going to learn about regardless. I shook my head but asked what it was.
Unbelievably, Sar went to the doc without me dragging her there. That's momentous in itself. Apparently she's been getting occasional shooting pains down her leg. I was assured that it's not every day, just once in a while. A bit of discussion later I discover it mostly happens when she's gone to sleep. The doc says maybe sciatica. A body scan was inconclusive - no apparent disc problem so physical therapy is in order to alleviate the discomfort.
Yesterday's phone call - a bit of prompting on my part revealed that the imp has yet to see a physical therapist. Why not? I wanted to know. She's feeling better. Sitting, standing and walking are pain free.
Uh huh. I'll take care of that when I get home.
In the meantime the imp has prepared a bunch of my favorite meals and desserts, frozen until I'm home. She says I'm in for a few surprises. Would appreciate a prayer sent my way that none of those surprises bark, meow, fly, swim or are on the endangered species list.
Sar tells me the Siberian Husky has been adopted by a family with youngsters. According to the rules of adoption, they have a fenced yard, a vet lined up for checkups and the dog will live in the house. The family will attend obedience classes so they can learn the correct commands and continue the socialization of the animal. All in all, a good home. I'm damn proud of my imp. Sar's placed a lot of dogs over the years. The Husky and family will be back to visit us at our annual 4th of July picnic. All the dogs in the area that we've fostered that Sar trained/placed in new homes come for a reunion that weekend. Watching them rush to greet her, to be next to the woman who rescued them - a good day for animal rescue.
I'll be home in a few days.
Cowboy
I see the blog hasn't updated lately but I'll tell you what I know.
I call everyday, sometimes 2 or more times. Don't mind telling you I miss the imp. Nighttime is hard but being unable to look at her or touch her is damn hard too. Yeah I miss her teasing, cooking and more I won't discuss.
I asked if she was behaving. The imp declared that she's always been a saint. Uh huh. Sar spent some time out at David's house on the island - he's away at the moment. Brought all the dogs and cats plus the dog that was being fostered. She hosted a "sweet" lunch for lady friends. That means a lot of dessert and I don't know what else. From past experience I know they got into mischief but what actually happened I won't know until I get home. With a bit of luck, David's house is still standing. Hopefully it hasn't been painted pink. Sar's lady friends are prone to leaving man-sized lingerie for him hanging in full view plus other embarrassing items. Sar assures me that's to let him know everyone thinks of him while he's off doing "marine" things.
I think a swat is in order for that remark alone.
When I called a couple weeks back, the conversation started off with "I may as well tell you--" which means something occurred that I'm going to learn about regardless. I shook my head but asked what it was.
Unbelievably, Sar went to the doc without me dragging her there. That's momentous in itself. Apparently she's been getting occasional shooting pains down her leg. I was assured that it's not every day, just once in a while. A bit of discussion later I discover it mostly happens when she's gone to sleep. The doc says maybe sciatica. A body scan was inconclusive - no apparent disc problem so physical therapy is in order to alleviate the discomfort.
Yesterday's phone call - a bit of prompting on my part revealed that the imp has yet to see a physical therapist. Why not? I wanted to know. She's feeling better. Sitting, standing and walking are pain free.
Uh huh. I'll take care of that when I get home.
In the meantime the imp has prepared a bunch of my favorite meals and desserts, frozen until I'm home. She says I'm in for a few surprises. Would appreciate a prayer sent my way that none of those surprises bark, meow, fly, swim or are on the endangered species list.
Sar tells me the Siberian Husky has been adopted by a family with youngsters. According to the rules of adoption, they have a fenced yard, a vet lined up for checkups and the dog will live in the house. The family will attend obedience classes so they can learn the correct commands and continue the socialization of the animal. All in all, a good home. I'm damn proud of my imp. Sar's placed a lot of dogs over the years. The Husky and family will be back to visit us at our annual 4th of July picnic. All the dogs in the area that we've fostered that Sar trained/placed in new homes come for a reunion that weekend. Watching them rush to greet her, to be next to the woman who rescued them - a good day for animal rescue.
I'll be home in a few days.
Cowboy
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Rants & Raves
Rant: Cowboy is still away. He made it back to DC, then down to North Carolina. Just when I was expecting him home, he was called back to DC and they sent him back to Europe!
... that's what he said, anyway...
Rave: I ordered half a cow and the pups and I have been eating STEAK!
Rave: We've had lunch at every fast food place within a 50-mile radius.
Rant: I visit a particular chat room regularly; friends are there that I've known for upteen years. We're old pals. Recently... one lady referred to her husband as Captain Jerk. I was startled. Err... and I said so.
Another lady said "Isn't that the same as calling Cowboy a giant squid?"
Uh... no. A squid/swabbie is a sailor. Cowboy is a sailor; that's not an insult. And he's 6 feet 5 inches tall. Ergo, he's a giant squid.
I know this woman loves her husband but I don't understand referring to one's beloved as a jerk. Do you? If you do, would you enlighten me?
Rant: Got a few emails asking why I don't update the blog more often. Hmmm... lemme see..... Time? Life?
Rant: Did I mention Cowboy is still away?
Rave: The pups and I are at David's house in the San Juans. I took all four of them with me plus the Husky plus the two cats. The cats have renewed their acquaintance with David's giant tortoise. They ride on her shell and she seems to like their company.
I worked in his yard today, planting a few things that can thrive in salty air. Tortoise followed us everywhere in the yard. Of course, by the time she got to where we were, we had moved on to another spot. I gave her some Twinkies. Tortoises are not very cuddly, however.
Rave: I went to the doc by myself before we came out here to the beach. Also saw a vampire. Just want to announce that neither of them requested an immediate transfer after my appointment.
... I must be losing my touch.
Rant: Getting the occasional shooting pain down my leg. Doc says he wants to test me for sciatica. I stopped running and jogging and am just doing bionic walking. If that doesn't ease the pain, I'll think about physical therapy. And the therapist better be cute!
Rave: Sidney, the Siberian Husky passed his obedience trials! He passed on voice commands and on hand signals! I am so-o-o proud of that feisty pup! He handles well and is eager to please. I've conditioned him to remain calm while his ears are checked, teeth brushed, nails filed. And he's ticklish which is really funny. Right now the pup is enjoying the beach with the rest of the menagerie. I have two good families in line waiting to see him and take him home. One has young children, the other has pre-teens. It will be a hard choice.
Rant: Cowboy is still away. His birthday is first week of June. I plan to bake a peach cake, a giant peach cobbler, peach drop cookies and make peach ice cream. I've invited some folks over and if he doesn't show up in time, we're going to eat alllll of it without him.
Grumble - Moan - Whine - Complain!
Rave: Spring has finally sprung! The weather is clear, sunny and in the 50's - lovely. My garden at home is in full bloom, tulips everywhere, weeping cherry trees weeping pink and white flowers, and the hummingbirds are starting to show up. Woody Woodpecker is back poking holes in the pines... a raccoon jumped in the yard, saw the Rotts, jumped out again.
Rave: One of my neighbors has been trying to lose weight ever since I've known her - about 10 years. I drag her out of bed and make her walk with me which she will do as long as it's not raining, not drizzling, not a hint of rain, no snowing, no sleet, no wind. She goes to AA - has been going for 100 years and a few months ago met a guy... She walks e-v-e-r-y morning now and often in the afternoon and again in the evening. She's lost 40 pounds! I am so proud of her! All she needed was a little incentive. She said he threatened to spank her if she didn't take better care of herself.
Naturally, I was shocked! Tsk. What is this world coming to?
I told Cowboy about it and he said he was shocked, too. He also said that was something he might have to try when he gets home!
Honestly... as if I ever did anything to deserve that kind of treatment.
On further consideration, I'm going to eat all those peach goodies all by myself.
Rant: Did I mention Cowboy is still away? I really miss him.
~Sar~
... that's what he said, anyway...
Rave: I ordered half a cow and the pups and I have been eating STEAK!
Rave: We've had lunch at every fast food place within a 50-mile radius.
Rant: I visit a particular chat room regularly; friends are there that I've known for upteen years. We're old pals. Recently... one lady referred to her husband as Captain Jerk. I was startled. Err... and I said so.
Another lady said "Isn't that the same as calling Cowboy a giant squid?"
Uh... no. A squid/swabbie is a sailor. Cowboy is a sailor; that's not an insult. And he's 6 feet 5 inches tall. Ergo, he's a giant squid.
I know this woman loves her husband but I don't understand referring to one's beloved as a jerk. Do you? If you do, would you enlighten me?
Rant: Got a few emails asking why I don't update the blog more often. Hmmm... lemme see..... Time? Life?
Rant: Did I mention Cowboy is still away?
Rave: The pups and I are at David's house in the San Juans. I took all four of them with me plus the Husky plus the two cats. The cats have renewed their acquaintance with David's giant tortoise. They ride on her shell and she seems to like their company.
I worked in his yard today, planting a few things that can thrive in salty air. Tortoise followed us everywhere in the yard. Of course, by the time she got to where we were, we had moved on to another spot. I gave her some Twinkies. Tortoises are not very cuddly, however.
Rave: I went to the doc by myself before we came out here to the beach. Also saw a vampire. Just want to announce that neither of them requested an immediate transfer after my appointment.
... I must be losing my touch.
Rant: Getting the occasional shooting pain down my leg. Doc says he wants to test me for sciatica. I stopped running and jogging and am just doing bionic walking. If that doesn't ease the pain, I'll think about physical therapy. And the therapist better be cute!
Rave: Sidney, the Siberian Husky passed his obedience trials! He passed on voice commands and on hand signals! I am so-o-o proud of that feisty pup! He handles well and is eager to please. I've conditioned him to remain calm while his ears are checked, teeth brushed, nails filed. And he's ticklish which is really funny. Right now the pup is enjoying the beach with the rest of the menagerie. I have two good families in line waiting to see him and take him home. One has young children, the other has pre-teens. It will be a hard choice.
Rant: Cowboy is still away. His birthday is first week of June. I plan to bake a peach cake, a giant peach cobbler, peach drop cookies and make peach ice cream. I've invited some folks over and if he doesn't show up in time, we're going to eat alllll of it without him.
Grumble - Moan - Whine - Complain!
Rave: Spring has finally sprung! The weather is clear, sunny and in the 50's - lovely. My garden at home is in full bloom, tulips everywhere, weeping cherry trees weeping pink and white flowers, and the hummingbirds are starting to show up. Woody Woodpecker is back poking holes in the pines... a raccoon jumped in the yard, saw the Rotts, jumped out again.
Rave: One of my neighbors has been trying to lose weight ever since I've known her - about 10 years. I drag her out of bed and make her walk with me which she will do as long as it's not raining, not drizzling, not a hint of rain, no snowing, no sleet, no wind. She goes to AA - has been going for 100 years and a few months ago met a guy... She walks e-v-e-r-y morning now and often in the afternoon and again in the evening. She's lost 40 pounds! I am so proud of her! All she needed was a little incentive. She said he threatened to spank her if she didn't take better care of herself.
Naturally, I was shocked! Tsk. What is this world coming to?
I told Cowboy about it and he said he was shocked, too. He also said that was something he might have to try when he gets home!
Honestly... as if I ever did anything to deserve that kind of treatment.
On further consideration, I'm going to eat all those peach goodies all by myself.
Rant: Did I mention Cowboy is still away? I really miss him.
~Sar~
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Cowboy's Still Away!
He's been in Europe, probably working a 7 - 3 shift, eating gourmet meals and spending leisurely afternoons on the beach ogling the bikini clad women. The women, in turn, are flirting like crazy and flaunting their charms at the giant squid.
I'm gonna smack him upside the head when he gets home.
Meanwhile, on the home front, I'm not sleeping much. I don't stay up too late; I get sleepy and jump into the sack with Cowpoke, the squid's clone. I sprayed the doll with Cowboy's after-shave and I snuggle up with it, put the doll's arms around me and that's okay for a while. But it doesn't whisper in my ear or pull me back into an embrace if I roll over.
I'm definitely gonna smack the giant squid upside the head for leaving me at home.
I wake up about 3 a.m. most nights. If the squid was home, he'd cuddle me back to sleep. He's not at home so I get up and eat something and then work in my studio until I'm falling on my face and fall asleep again. Sometimes I make it back to bed; other times I wake up on the futon in my studio when BullyBoy licks my face 'cause the beastie has to go out to pee.
If the squid was home this would never happen. First, I'd still be in bed; next, he'd let the dogs out. I should smack him when he gets home.
We've been eating large. We ate an entire gallon of lime sherbet - the pups and I - so when Cowboy called and asked if I've eaten anything green, I could honestly say I did and lots of it.
Taking the Husky to obedience trials next week; he's a smart pup and has learned the basic commands very quickly. He still gets naughty with the female Rott; she still bites him on the nose when he gets too familiar. I'm interviewing prospective owners for him; he'll be ready to move to his "forever" home in no time.
There's this really cute guy who runs the obedience trials... since Cowboy is away, I may have to flirt with him. If the squid was home, he'd be with me and I'd keep my distance but since he flew off to Europe and left me alone...
My neighbor, MsKeptWoman, asked me to go shopping with her. Her sugar daddy is flying in from Belgium and she needs new lingerie. I grabbed Cowboy's extra credit card - the one he said to use if I had an emergency - and went with her. I bought the prettiest under things! The only thing is... I forgot to keep track of how much I spent but since the credit card company didn't reject any of the charges, I'm guessing I didn't hit the credit limit.
I'm thinking if I wear some of the new lingerie and hold a peach cobbler in my hand... that might make the giant squid forget about the credit card bill. That's what happens when I'm left alone to fend for myself when he flies off to Europe.
I was going to get the outside deck resealed. We got a lot of rain this winter and Cowboy wanted it done while he was away. But... Nordstrom's had a huge sale on shoes... a new chocolate shoppe just opened and I wanted to support the local economy and buy a little of everything they make, the pups needed new collars, and I saw some beautiful batik fabric I had to have... And besides, men should get the decks resealed; women should spend their money.
Is that a sexist attitude?
Too bad.
And if he complains about any of this, I'm gonna smack him upside the head! (Then I'm gonna get the hell out of Dodge!)
~Sar~
Note: I haven't been able to access my email for a while. Yahoo assures me it will be fixed any minute now - that was a few days ago.
I'm gonna smack him upside the head when he gets home.
Meanwhile, on the home front, I'm not sleeping much. I don't stay up too late; I get sleepy and jump into the sack with Cowpoke, the squid's clone. I sprayed the doll with Cowboy's after-shave and I snuggle up with it, put the doll's arms around me and that's okay for a while. But it doesn't whisper in my ear or pull me back into an embrace if I roll over.
I'm definitely gonna smack the giant squid upside the head for leaving me at home.
I wake up about 3 a.m. most nights. If the squid was home, he'd cuddle me back to sleep. He's not at home so I get up and eat something and then work in my studio until I'm falling on my face and fall asleep again. Sometimes I make it back to bed; other times I wake up on the futon in my studio when BullyBoy licks my face 'cause the beastie has to go out to pee.
If the squid was home this would never happen. First, I'd still be in bed; next, he'd let the dogs out. I should smack him when he gets home.
We've been eating large. We ate an entire gallon of lime sherbet - the pups and I - so when Cowboy called and asked if I've eaten anything green, I could honestly say I did and lots of it.
Taking the Husky to obedience trials next week; he's a smart pup and has learned the basic commands very quickly. He still gets naughty with the female Rott; she still bites him on the nose when he gets too familiar. I'm interviewing prospective owners for him; he'll be ready to move to his "forever" home in no time.
There's this really cute guy who runs the obedience trials... since Cowboy is away, I may have to flirt with him. If the squid was home, he'd be with me and I'd keep my distance but since he flew off to Europe and left me alone...
My neighbor, MsKeptWoman, asked me to go shopping with her. Her sugar daddy is flying in from Belgium and she needs new lingerie. I grabbed Cowboy's extra credit card - the one he said to use if I had an emergency - and went with her. I bought the prettiest under things! The only thing is... I forgot to keep track of how much I spent but since the credit card company didn't reject any of the charges, I'm guessing I didn't hit the credit limit.
I'm thinking if I wear some of the new lingerie and hold a peach cobbler in my hand... that might make the giant squid forget about the credit card bill. That's what happens when I'm left alone to fend for myself when he flies off to Europe.
I was going to get the outside deck resealed. We got a lot of rain this winter and Cowboy wanted it done while he was away. But... Nordstrom's had a huge sale on shoes... a new chocolate shoppe just opened and I wanted to support the local economy and buy a little of everything they make, the pups needed new collars, and I saw some beautiful batik fabric I had to have... And besides, men should get the decks resealed; women should spend their money.
Is that a sexist attitude?
Too bad.
And if he complains about any of this, I'm gonna smack him upside the head! (Then I'm gonna get the hell out of Dodge!)
~Sar~
Note: I haven't been able to access my email for a while. Yahoo assures me it will be fixed any minute now - that was a few days ago.
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