Cowboy here. Things have calmed down a bit since I posted here last. Company has left; the house is ours again. It's good to have the imp to myself for a change. Holiday meals were outstanding of course; my wife's a great cook. Sar + her dear friend Alli ate more than their share of chocolate, jelly beans, countless other sweets. When they were high on sugar the house fairly rocked. When they came down they slept soundly giving Paul, Allie's husband and I a break. Even the animals in the house seemed to be relieved. Just imagine the havoc those 2 created as kids.
We flew to DC and back, a much needed medical checkup for the imp - recovery from various health issues is encouraging. Medics are pleased, more so I think because my wife didn't seriously injure any of them this time around. One young doc that tried to touch her without permission ended up with a broken thumb. Another got a bruised knee – Sar's an experienced kick-boxer. All in all, a decent record. The "patient from hell" has been known to break bones, leave black eyes, nose bleeds, etc. Should be a lesson to medics everywhere: don't touch unless asking first; don't assume patient is a moron or impressed that you have a medical degree. Sar has several degrees of her own – all impressive.
We stayed in David's condo, close to Bethesda. Sar brought several Boston cream pies for the man, his favorite dessert. In return, he gave my wife a couple of "Calvin & Hobbs" books. The man has a mean sense of humor. Just what I needed – more inspiration for the imp's creativity. Going through them, she giggled all the way back to Quebec. My hands itched at the thought of the mischief she'll be into in no time.
Speaking of pie, for those interested cooks/bakers, Sar put the recipe link back – off to the right side of the blog. The kitchen smells good; Sar's feeling better, cooking more. The best news is that she's creating fiber art again – a sure sign of good health – it's been a hard year, a few challenges; things are better now. When Sar works at her craft, she hums – all the critters relax when that happens. When my wife's happy—that's about all that matters in my world.
Before we head back to Washington, we'll probably take a side trip to Iceland again – numerous friends there. Also want to get back to Cape Breton in Nova Scotia. Happy memories there – the summer is mostly pleasant. Snowed in June one year we were there. Hoping it will be balmy this time around. Plans aren't solidified yet. I remember a "canoe" incident when we were there – Sar stood in the canoe. I told her to sit. She didn't. Got spanked right there on the water. Had to eat out for a month. The imp's got a temper and a half. Good thing she loves me – could have been eating out for a year.
Cowboy
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Sar-isms
Cowboy here. I have been kicked out of the kitchen. Spring holiday cooking/baking is in full swing. Periodically I get to taste test whatever's coming out of the oven or off the stove. I hear lots of giggles, see 2 little gals, chocolate smears on their faces. Sar's baked dozens of her famous black & white cookies. I get the feeling they're being consumed in great quantities. David is due back here in a couple days; Bull will be arriving mid week. Bull's mother might be flying in as well. Allie's husband Paul due end of the week. My wife loves to feed a full house during the holidays. Expecting a few other folks as well - 1 is the nephew of the local parish priest - the boy will ask the 4 Passover questions. Don't know all the Passover/Easter plans. Positive my wife has a few surprises. Hoping none of them include a jelly bean eating contest.
Alli's company has been good for Sar. Both are inspired to make life interesting. Snow has melted a bit; snow creatures are dissolving; morphing into "dying" aliens draped across the driveway, the front steps, leaning over the porch railing, beside the front door. Amazed no one has complained about the melting horror show. Canadians are very polite people.
Sar-ism: Small local dog show here recently. A bunch of poodles were featured on TV. Alli wanted to know why the animals were groomed in those pom pom coats – on legs, etc. Sar said they look that way because they're members of a weird religious cult. Peach pie in the oven - I refrained from commenting.
Sar-ism: Alli was matron of honor at our wedding many years ago. The other day she asked why we were married on a Tuesday. Sar's reply: Couldn't get married on a Saturday. Alli: Why not? Sar: Cowboy likes to watch cartoons on Saturday. I got out of my chair, walked across the room and gave my wife a much deserved swat.
Alli's cat Hissy Fit slipped out of the house, scaled a tree, our dogs barking at the bottom encouraging the feline to stay there. Sar climbed the tree after the wayward cat. I climbed up after my wayward wife. RCMP showed up after Allie called for help. Mounties laughed – one said he wasn't sure they could use Canadian resources to save an American cat. Sar yelled if he didn't, it wouldn't look good for international relations, mentioned there were warm brownies in the oven. Knowing my wife's penchant for serving "special" brownies to those who cross her, I suggested they refuse the brownies, eat the black & white cookies instead. Cat jumped down by itself. Mounties were saved embarrassment of gastrointestinal distress. U.S./Canadian relations salvaged.
Tree climbing adventure wore the imp out. She had to lie down for a while. Our big male cat stretched out next to her, the dogs on the floor by her side – no room for me. Amid much animal grumbling I was able to lift Sar out of our bed. The critters followed me out of our room. When they were on the other side of the door, I slipped back in, closed the door and the imp was mine. Whining, hissing went on for a bit. Such is my life. Sar in my arms; peach cobbler for dessert. Life's pretty good.
Cowboy
P.S. "Someone" has consumed a great many chocolate bunny ears. I'm starting to believe earless rabbits are a species unto themselves.
Alli's company has been good for Sar. Both are inspired to make life interesting. Snow has melted a bit; snow creatures are dissolving; morphing into "dying" aliens draped across the driveway, the front steps, leaning over the porch railing, beside the front door. Amazed no one has complained about the melting horror show. Canadians are very polite people.
Sar-ism: Small local dog show here recently. A bunch of poodles were featured on TV. Alli wanted to know why the animals were groomed in those pom pom coats – on legs, etc. Sar said they look that way because they're members of a weird religious cult. Peach pie in the oven - I refrained from commenting.
Sar-ism: Alli was matron of honor at our wedding many years ago. The other day she asked why we were married on a Tuesday. Sar's reply: Couldn't get married on a Saturday. Alli: Why not? Sar: Cowboy likes to watch cartoons on Saturday. I got out of my chair, walked across the room and gave my wife a much deserved swat.
Alli's cat Hissy Fit slipped out of the house, scaled a tree, our dogs barking at the bottom encouraging the feline to stay there. Sar climbed the tree after the wayward cat. I climbed up after my wayward wife. RCMP showed up after Allie called for help. Mounties laughed – one said he wasn't sure they could use Canadian resources to save an American cat. Sar yelled if he didn't, it wouldn't look good for international relations, mentioned there were warm brownies in the oven. Knowing my wife's penchant for serving "special" brownies to those who cross her, I suggested they refuse the brownies, eat the black & white cookies instead. Cat jumped down by itself. Mounties were saved embarrassment of gastrointestinal distress. U.S./Canadian relations salvaged.
Tree climbing adventure wore the imp out. She had to lie down for a while. Our big male cat stretched out next to her, the dogs on the floor by her side – no room for me. Amid much animal grumbling I was able to lift Sar out of our bed. The critters followed me out of our room. When they were on the other side of the door, I slipped back in, closed the door and the imp was mine. Whining, hissing went on for a bit. Such is my life. Sar in my arms; peach cobbler for dessert. Life's pretty good.
Cowboy
P.S. "Someone" has consumed a great many chocolate bunny ears. I'm starting to believe earless rabbits are a species unto themselves.
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Ups & Downs
Cowboy here. Taking a breather. We have overnight company, the house is full. David is here. He brought his latest lady friend – his former housekeeper – they've been seeing each other socially since her husband died a couple years ago. Sar's oldest friend Alli and her husband, Paul are here. They brought their cat along, a creature that makes grizzly bears seem tame in comparison. Sar says our Rotts fantasize about throwing that animal in the commode, dropping the lid, sitting on it until the cat is flushed. The cat is a Maine Coon by the name of Hissy Fit – very appropriate. Naturally, the creature adores my wife.
Sar is cooking, baking, dancing. Alli's presence ensures plenty of mischief – never know what or when it's going to show itself. The two women - their heads together scare the hell out of me. As children, both survived some of Chicago's meanest streets. I imagine the tough guys in those days were grateful to have survived a Sar/Alli confrontation.
We have an entire village of snow people/animals in the yard. Apparently, Alli is as adept as Sar at sculpting forms that have a XXX rating. Educational as well. It seems dinosaurs had scales on their genitalia – breeding must have hurt like hell, might be why they became extinct.
Dinosaurs: There was a small article on the Yahoo home page the other day about why they became extinct.
Sar says to me: "What killed the dinosaurs?"
Me: "Twinkies."
She ordered pizza for supper. I had been looking forward to chicken and dumplings, peach cobbler for dessert. David wanted Boston Cream pie. He took revenge – used a butcher knife to behead the snow creatures in the yard. This only inspired Sar & Alli to reposition the heads in the crooks of snow arms, adhered to bellies, turned into basketballs – all facial characteristics included –in general, turning the mess into a horror show. I tell myself they're doing things they missed as children. David says we're aiding and abetting. I notice that Alli's husband takes it all in stride – they have 4 boys. Maybe it's a case of been there/done that.
I had a little discussion with my wife when we were in bed. A couple of swats later I succumbed to her attentive wiles, remembered again why I love her so much. She keeps me young, always interested.
Ups & downs: Sar's energy is back; she needs to rest periodically but health-wise, things are looking better. Appetite comes and goes; when she's eating well, I find excuses to give her more chocolate or a few specialty treats she loves – imported chocolate, ice cream, pears, black jelly beans, Boston baked beans – this is a candy, not a bean, also a number of other items I have to order online.
Speaking of treats, Passover and Easter fall in the same week this year, starting end of this month. David will fly to DC, return for the holiday week. Alli will likely stay here through the holiday; Paul will return to Chicago, he has a company to run, return later. Not sure who else will be here. Bull should be back from a deployment in time to share his leave with us; not sure we'll have enough food to satisfy him. Doubt there's that much food in all of Quebec.
Got a few emails about Sar's diet, suggestions for a healthier life style. Just want to say we've been there many a time. For months at a time the imp has adhered to a diet of proteins, whole grains, fruits, raw vegetables – except for a couple, Sar won't eat cooked vegetables. She cut out all the favorite foods – Twinkies, fast food, Cracker Jack, etc. When her weight dropped to the low 90's, the medics recommended a return to her regular diet. She needs to carbo load regularly. Appreciate your concern, appreciate your suggestions. Everybody's body chemistry differs; Sar's doing what's best for her. I continue to despair at how much crap she eats but as long as she's eating enough real food, I'm not complaining too loud.
David noticed there's a tall tree on the property that might be climbable. I might have to cut it down before Sar decides to scale it in her mukluks.
Cowboy
Sar is cooking, baking, dancing. Alli's presence ensures plenty of mischief – never know what or when it's going to show itself. The two women - their heads together scare the hell out of me. As children, both survived some of Chicago's meanest streets. I imagine the tough guys in those days were grateful to have survived a Sar/Alli confrontation.
We have an entire village of snow people/animals in the yard. Apparently, Alli is as adept as Sar at sculpting forms that have a XXX rating. Educational as well. It seems dinosaurs had scales on their genitalia – breeding must have hurt like hell, might be why they became extinct.
Dinosaurs: There was a small article on the Yahoo home page the other day about why they became extinct.
Sar says to me: "What killed the dinosaurs?"
Me: "Twinkies."
She ordered pizza for supper. I had been looking forward to chicken and dumplings, peach cobbler for dessert. David wanted Boston Cream pie. He took revenge – used a butcher knife to behead the snow creatures in the yard. This only inspired Sar & Alli to reposition the heads in the crooks of snow arms, adhered to bellies, turned into basketballs – all facial characteristics included –in general, turning the mess into a horror show. I tell myself they're doing things they missed as children. David says we're aiding and abetting. I notice that Alli's husband takes it all in stride – they have 4 boys. Maybe it's a case of been there/done that.
I had a little discussion with my wife when we were in bed. A couple of swats later I succumbed to her attentive wiles, remembered again why I love her so much. She keeps me young, always interested.
Ups & downs: Sar's energy is back; she needs to rest periodically but health-wise, things are looking better. Appetite comes and goes; when she's eating well, I find excuses to give her more chocolate or a few specialty treats she loves – imported chocolate, ice cream, pears, black jelly beans, Boston baked beans – this is a candy, not a bean, also a number of other items I have to order online.
Speaking of treats, Passover and Easter fall in the same week this year, starting end of this month. David will fly to DC, return for the holiday week. Alli will likely stay here through the holiday; Paul will return to Chicago, he has a company to run, return later. Not sure who else will be here. Bull should be back from a deployment in time to share his leave with us; not sure we'll have enough food to satisfy him. Doubt there's that much food in all of Quebec.
Got a few emails about Sar's diet, suggestions for a healthier life style. Just want to say we've been there many a time. For months at a time the imp has adhered to a diet of proteins, whole grains, fruits, raw vegetables – except for a couple, Sar won't eat cooked vegetables. She cut out all the favorite foods – Twinkies, fast food, Cracker Jack, etc. When her weight dropped to the low 90's, the medics recommended a return to her regular diet. She needs to carbo load regularly. Appreciate your concern, appreciate your suggestions. Everybody's body chemistry differs; Sar's doing what's best for her. I continue to despair at how much crap she eats but as long as she's eating enough real food, I'm not complaining too loud.
David noticed there's a tall tree on the property that might be climbable. I might have to cut it down before Sar decides to scale it in her mukluks.
Cowboy
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Normalcy - Almost
Cowboy here. Life is getting back to normal. Sar is almost back to her old self – the naughty imp I married shows herself more every day. Makes me glad. My right arm swings automatically now; don't have to restrain myself like I did when she was barely out of bed on her own steam. Staying in northern Quebec in our honeymoon house has been good for both of us.
Normal Sar signs: Mia bambina generally eats a big breakfast – pancakes or an omelet, sometimes hot cereal. For a few months it was a battle to get her to eat more than a piece of toast. This morning the imp had a bowl of cold cereal, another one, part of a third and the milkshake she drinks every morning. Sar's high metabolic rate demands an intake of something solid about every 2 hours. If she doesn't sleep through the night, there's a middle of the night snack – half a dozen twinkies, half a pie or some other junk. Fruit, a sandwich maybe but I don't complain, happy to have her eat anything at this point. Doesn't mean I won't deliver a swat anyway.
Sneaking out of the house when she thinks I'm not paying attention. That's my girl. Building snow creatures that defy family values. Giggling when she gets back in the house, pleased with her handiwork. I admit I love that giggle. My wife's dancing more, taking the stairs 2 at a time, sliding down the banister regularly. That always gets that cute bottom pinked when I catch her. Thank the good Lord, there's more cooking and baking going on.
Update: It seems I spoke too soon. Wrote the above a few days ago. Heard the Rott barking wildly a couple days ago. Rotts rarely bark; ours never bark unless they suspect danger. I ran up the stairs, met the Mastiff coming down to get me, also barking. Sar was on the floor semi-conscious, heart racing and in great pain. A lot of intestinal distress - all the accompanying symptoms. Got a floatplane pilot to fly us to an ER in Montreal. From x-rays, some other tests, the medic suspected abdominal flu – exaggerated by Sar's intestinal tract – scar tissue, etc. The first 24 hours were nerve wracking, Sar hurling, in pain, unable to sleep much, up every couple of hours to take meds of 1 kind or another. Fever finally abated, stomach calmed down, etc. It took another day to get some food in her that stayed down.
We got home – back to the log cabin – mid morning. Sar's in bed asleep, exhausted but feeling better. I accused her of getting sick in order to avoid the hot tush she's due for a variety of reasons. I got that innocent look. The dogs are in the bedroom. I look in regularly, spot 1 or the other leaning on the bed to stare at her. The cat sleeps at the top of the pillow, hisses or spits as I enter the room - an attack cat guarding my wife. I think we're in the clear here; the flu was unexpected but luckily short-lived. I'll make linguini with butter and cheese for supper. She'll eat that, demand chocolate. Sar making demands means she's feeling better.
We're staying here for a while yet. It's recuperative for both of us. The past year has been a bit of a hassle but it's behind us. Our friend David will fly in shortly. A couple other friends may also join us. There's plenty of room. Sar will be beside herself cooking, baking – once she's up and I think she's feeling well enough to entertain.
Last, February was a good month for both of us, a lot of sweet moments.
Cowboy
Normal Sar signs: Mia bambina generally eats a big breakfast – pancakes or an omelet, sometimes hot cereal. For a few months it was a battle to get her to eat more than a piece of toast. This morning the imp had a bowl of cold cereal, another one, part of a third and the milkshake she drinks every morning. Sar's high metabolic rate demands an intake of something solid about every 2 hours. If she doesn't sleep through the night, there's a middle of the night snack – half a dozen twinkies, half a pie or some other junk. Fruit, a sandwich maybe but I don't complain, happy to have her eat anything at this point. Doesn't mean I won't deliver a swat anyway.
Sneaking out of the house when she thinks I'm not paying attention. That's my girl. Building snow creatures that defy family values. Giggling when she gets back in the house, pleased with her handiwork. I admit I love that giggle. My wife's dancing more, taking the stairs 2 at a time, sliding down the banister regularly. That always gets that cute bottom pinked when I catch her. Thank the good Lord, there's more cooking and baking going on.
Update: It seems I spoke too soon. Wrote the above a few days ago. Heard the Rott barking wildly a couple days ago. Rotts rarely bark; ours never bark unless they suspect danger. I ran up the stairs, met the Mastiff coming down to get me, also barking. Sar was on the floor semi-conscious, heart racing and in great pain. A lot of intestinal distress - all the accompanying symptoms. Got a floatplane pilot to fly us to an ER in Montreal. From x-rays, some other tests, the medic suspected abdominal flu – exaggerated by Sar's intestinal tract – scar tissue, etc. The first 24 hours were nerve wracking, Sar hurling, in pain, unable to sleep much, up every couple of hours to take meds of 1 kind or another. Fever finally abated, stomach calmed down, etc. It took another day to get some food in her that stayed down.
We got home – back to the log cabin – mid morning. Sar's in bed asleep, exhausted but feeling better. I accused her of getting sick in order to avoid the hot tush she's due for a variety of reasons. I got that innocent look. The dogs are in the bedroom. I look in regularly, spot 1 or the other leaning on the bed to stare at her. The cat sleeps at the top of the pillow, hisses or spits as I enter the room - an attack cat guarding my wife. I think we're in the clear here; the flu was unexpected but luckily short-lived. I'll make linguini with butter and cheese for supper. She'll eat that, demand chocolate. Sar making demands means she's feeling better.
We're staying here for a while yet. It's recuperative for both of us. The past year has been a bit of a hassle but it's behind us. Our friend David will fly in shortly. A couple other friends may also join us. There's plenty of room. Sar will be beside herself cooking, baking – once she's up and I think she's feeling well enough to entertain.
Last, February was a good month for both of us, a lot of sweet moments.
Cowboy
Monday, February 15, 2010
February-ing
We're half way through February and let me just say it's been STUPENDOUS!
His Holiness has been most creative: chocolates (imported), lovin', chocolates, sweet spankings, more lovin', more sweet spankings, lots more chocolate. I've gained a couple of pounds; Cowboy has lost a few… We both need to take regular naps.
Valentine's Day was a biggie. I wore my annual heart-shaped bustier, red high heels and sweet smile. Cowboy never seems to tire of that particular outfit. Naturally I made him work for it. He chased me up the stairs to the 2nd floor, got shoved aside by the pups who always enjoy a game of chase and catch and when he got too close too soon, I threw my high heels at him. I escaped his huge Popeye arm reach when he ducked my shoes, sic-ed the pups on him and made it to the bedroom where I jumped in the closet.
When he finally got to the bedroom and demanded to know where I was as if there were so many hiding places he couldn't find me… tsk
I jumped out of the closet wearing his cowboy hat and my birthday suit.
The man practically beamed.
Naughty stuff ensued. I bet that was a big surprise, huh?
We've gone through a couple of buckets of chocolate paint. Painting our birthday suits in February is another annual tradition although sometimes the giant squid surprises me with his painting skills in other months. And as old as he is, he can still do pushups with me sitting on his back. I might note that he does seem to lose his concentration and sometimes his balance when I scoot under him in the middle of a pushup. It helps that my birthday suit doesn't wear out…
We've eaten lots of pasta – carbo loading for all the physical stuff that happens. We've eaten peachy things in a variety of recipes and we've watched some naughty movies that we rented on pay TV. I think the naughty movies are so-so but they give us ideas…
We lock the critters in another room when we want to use the living room as the place to anoint with our lovin' games. Some things simply don't need an audience. Cold noses and curious (and staring) cats can deflate our activities.
I broke down and shared some chocolate/raspberry mousse, chocolate/espresso pudding and other chocolate delicacies. It's one of the few times during the year I don't hog the good stuff. Naturally I expect sweet rewards for my generosity. Cowboy is equally generous; he always surprises me with sweet momentos of the holiday.
Snow and ice persist. I've managed to create a few more snow people but the constant high winds are a little unsettling. The winds howl, the fireplace crackles, the animals pace a little. I hide under the covers or under my husband's arm. We had a brief lightning storm. I was ready to sleep in the closet but the pups crowded in with me and didn't leave any room for a giant squid. Needless to say… he pulled me out of the closet, landed a swat on my teeny tiny backside and announced we were sleeping in our bed.
Tsk! Wasn't me who took up all the space in the closet.
Two more weeks of February to enjoy. I'm loving it. Thinking up new and naughty ways to tease my husband – he's still able to chase me down even though he's now soooo old, he can't remember exactly how old he is.
SWAT!
Tsk!
~Sar~
His Holiness has been most creative: chocolates (imported), lovin', chocolates, sweet spankings, more lovin', more sweet spankings, lots more chocolate. I've gained a couple of pounds; Cowboy has lost a few… We both need to take regular naps.
Valentine's Day was a biggie. I wore my annual heart-shaped bustier, red high heels and sweet smile. Cowboy never seems to tire of that particular outfit. Naturally I made him work for it. He chased me up the stairs to the 2nd floor, got shoved aside by the pups who always enjoy a game of chase and catch and when he got too close too soon, I threw my high heels at him. I escaped his huge Popeye arm reach when he ducked my shoes, sic-ed the pups on him and made it to the bedroom where I jumped in the closet.
When he finally got to the bedroom and demanded to know where I was as if there were so many hiding places he couldn't find me… tsk
I jumped out of the closet wearing his cowboy hat and my birthday suit.
The man practically beamed.
Naughty stuff ensued. I bet that was a big surprise, huh?
We've gone through a couple of buckets of chocolate paint. Painting our birthday suits in February is another annual tradition although sometimes the giant squid surprises me with his painting skills in other months. And as old as he is, he can still do pushups with me sitting on his back. I might note that he does seem to lose his concentration and sometimes his balance when I scoot under him in the middle of a pushup. It helps that my birthday suit doesn't wear out…
We've eaten lots of pasta – carbo loading for all the physical stuff that happens. We've eaten peachy things in a variety of recipes and we've watched some naughty movies that we rented on pay TV. I think the naughty movies are so-so but they give us ideas…
We lock the critters in another room when we want to use the living room as the place to anoint with our lovin' games. Some things simply don't need an audience. Cold noses and curious (and staring) cats can deflate our activities.
I broke down and shared some chocolate/raspberry mousse, chocolate/espresso pudding and other chocolate delicacies. It's one of the few times during the year I don't hog the good stuff. Naturally I expect sweet rewards for my generosity. Cowboy is equally generous; he always surprises me with sweet momentos of the holiday.
Snow and ice persist. I've managed to create a few more snow people but the constant high winds are a little unsettling. The winds howl, the fireplace crackles, the animals pace a little. I hide under the covers or under my husband's arm. We had a brief lightning storm. I was ready to sleep in the closet but the pups crowded in with me and didn't leave any room for a giant squid. Needless to say… he pulled me out of the closet, landed a swat on my teeny tiny backside and announced we were sleeping in our bed.
Tsk! Wasn't me who took up all the space in the closet.
Two more weeks of February to enjoy. I'm loving it. Thinking up new and naughty ways to tease my husband – he's still able to chase me down even though he's now soooo old, he can't remember exactly how old he is.
SWAT!
Tsk!
~Sar~
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
No good deed...
goes unpunished…
Flipping through the Yahoo news pages on the laptop yesterday and came across an article about GIANT SQUIDS! Apparently hoards of them are congregating in California waters. The article says that squids normally weigh in around 40 lbs. These are 60-100 lbs! (I'll bet they're from Italian waters… all that pasta you know.)
So I casually mentioned it to MY giant squid.
"A bunch of your relatives showed up in California and are swimming around making headlines. Did you know about the family reunion? How come we weren't invited?"
"I don't have any relatives in California. Wait! Are you talking about the squids?"
"Well of course I'm talking about the squids."
SWAT!
Tsk.
When the swimming squids get irritated, they squirt ink. When my squid gets irritated, he swats! (Definitely, they're related.)
Since His Holiness didn't show the same enthusiasm for the giant squid anecdote that I did, I decided I wouldn't bother to mention that I also read that Polish scientists found the remains of three Neanderthals…
We got that big weather system that moved up the U.S. east coast. More snow, some ice, freezing weather.
Cowboy made noises about my being out in the weather – pneumonia, bronchitis, snow angels and other blathering that didn't make sense. So when he said he had to drive into town to get supplies…
I had 2-3 hours at the most. I bundled up in several fleecy layers and dashed into the backyard with the dogs. (They had their sweaters on.) Snow was packed and up to my calves in places. It took a little effort but I got the first large round snow ball to make the bottom of a snow person. It was soooo big and round I reshaped it to make it an expectant mama… the top wasn't quite as big but suddenly was a little taller than I could handle. I added arms with hands placed over her bulging tummy and put her head in the crook of her elbow… Added a beret to the head, beets for her eyes and peas for her mouth. (If I was expecting triplets I'd cut off my head, too.)
Unfortunately, BullyBoy peed on her leg.
The 2nd snow person was harder to make. I leaned a skinny layer of snow against a tree – was just shaping the body when I thought I heard a car. Decided to stop there and get back in the house before His Holiness returned. Got a huge laugh when I got to the back porch. From that vantage point, the snow person I was in the process of making was BEHIND the tree. All you could see was a HUGE breast peeking from the tree trunk. I ran back and put a beet on it dead center.
The pups and I were lounging in front of the fire – dry and warm – when Cowboy showed up about 30 minutes later.
I smiled, looking up from the book in my lap.
He gave me a big hug and kiss and said he bought Dove ice cream bars along with the groceries. Yum!
"Pasta for supper," he added. "Along with a spanking."
"What?" Ohhhh, not good. Not good at all.
"Either snow elves came for a visit while I was gone or you went out in this weather and built a couple of snow people. Which was it?"
Crumb! "Uhhh… I'm sure snow elves must have visited while the pups and I were napping," I said with fingers crossed, the pups snoring away and not volunteering information.
"Uh-huh," my husband agreed, tucking me under his arm and delivering a not-so-gentle swat.
Tsk.
I'll have to put off the snow fort and other snow creatures until he goes into town again. Fortunately (or unfortunately) the snow will be around for a while.
I bet if they tested Cowboy's DNA with the DNA of the Neanderthals' remains...
~Sar~
Flipping through the Yahoo news pages on the laptop yesterday and came across an article about GIANT SQUIDS! Apparently hoards of them are congregating in California waters. The article says that squids normally weigh in around 40 lbs. These are 60-100 lbs! (I'll bet they're from Italian waters… all that pasta you know.)
So I casually mentioned it to MY giant squid.
"A bunch of your relatives showed up in California and are swimming around making headlines. Did you know about the family reunion? How come we weren't invited?"
"I don't have any relatives in California. Wait! Are you talking about the squids?"
"Well of course I'm talking about the squids."
SWAT!
Tsk.
When the swimming squids get irritated, they squirt ink. When my squid gets irritated, he swats! (Definitely, they're related.)
Since His Holiness didn't show the same enthusiasm for the giant squid anecdote that I did, I decided I wouldn't bother to mention that I also read that Polish scientists found the remains of three Neanderthals…
We got that big weather system that moved up the U.S. east coast. More snow, some ice, freezing weather.
Cowboy made noises about my being out in the weather – pneumonia, bronchitis, snow angels and other blathering that didn't make sense. So when he said he had to drive into town to get supplies…
I had 2-3 hours at the most. I bundled up in several fleecy layers and dashed into the backyard with the dogs. (They had their sweaters on.) Snow was packed and up to my calves in places. It took a little effort but I got the first large round snow ball to make the bottom of a snow person. It was soooo big and round I reshaped it to make it an expectant mama… the top wasn't quite as big but suddenly was a little taller than I could handle. I added arms with hands placed over her bulging tummy and put her head in the crook of her elbow… Added a beret to the head, beets for her eyes and peas for her mouth. (If I was expecting triplets I'd cut off my head, too.)
Unfortunately, BullyBoy peed on her leg.
The 2nd snow person was harder to make. I leaned a skinny layer of snow against a tree – was just shaping the body when I thought I heard a car. Decided to stop there and get back in the house before His Holiness returned. Got a huge laugh when I got to the back porch. From that vantage point, the snow person I was in the process of making was BEHIND the tree. All you could see was a HUGE breast peeking from the tree trunk. I ran back and put a beet on it dead center.
The pups and I were lounging in front of the fire – dry and warm – when Cowboy showed up about 30 minutes later.
I smiled, looking up from the book in my lap.
He gave me a big hug and kiss and said he bought Dove ice cream bars along with the groceries. Yum!
"Pasta for supper," he added. "Along with a spanking."
"What?" Ohhhh, not good. Not good at all.
"Either snow elves came for a visit while I was gone or you went out in this weather and built a couple of snow people. Which was it?"
Crumb! "Uhhh… I'm sure snow elves must have visited while the pups and I were napping," I said with fingers crossed, the pups snoring away and not volunteering information.
"Uh-huh," my husband agreed, tucking me under his arm and delivering a not-so-gentle swat.
Tsk.
I'll have to put off the snow fort and other snow creatures until he goes into town again. Fortunately (or unfortunately) the snow will be around for a while.
I bet if they tested Cowboy's DNA with the DNA of the Neanderthals' remains...
~Sar~
Friday, January 29, 2010
Late to the Party
Okey dokey, so I'm a little bit old-fashioned. Make that really old-fashioned. In the last few months I've been invited to share every detail of my life on facebook, twitter, flikr, yahoo updates, yahoo messenger, yahoo something else, aol, msn and a whole bunch of other sites I didn't even know existed. Some of these sites also have "activities & events" in which it would be *fun* to participate. Great.
People… I rarely get to my email on a regular basis. Friends have learned that it might take days for me to reply. It's not that I don't want to reply or that I lack basic manners, it's just that my life outside of the computer is busy, often chaotic and has its own demands. (Giant Neanderthal squids make many demands; it's in their DNA.)
If I participated in the many websites listed above and a whole bunch I've already forgotten, there wouldn't be anything to share. My life would be lost in cyberspace. (Not to mention what the giant squid would have to say about my spending time on the computer and not with him.)
"I think I'll start twittering and joining in on some of those websites where everyone communicates with everyone else on a regular (sometimes hourly) basis." I casually mentioned the other day, greasing the slide I was bound to slip down.
"No problem, bambina. You go right ahead and do that and spend every night over my lap – face down, butt up – that'll work for me," His Holiness remarked, flexing his biceps.
His Holiness has Popeye biceps despite the absence of spinach in our lives. I wonder if it's those other green uglies he eats…
"Would you like a sample?" he added.
I'm sure I've mentioned that the man was born without couth. Must be his Neanderthal ancestry.
Back to the subject of email. Between email and this occasional blog I'm pretty much occupied on the Internet. There are a few websites I visit regularly but I only participate minimally on them – the Navy wives site, a few fiber arts sites, a story site I used to chat in but now the chat group doesn't show up until way past my bedtime so I don't get to chat with them much. I don't even have time to visit my own links. Is that pathetic or what?
Meanwhile…
There's another big weather system moving up the U.S. east coast. We'll probably get some of it up here in the Quebec boonies. Not that there isn't plenty of snow and ice still blanketing us… I've been warned (repeatedly yawn) that snow angels are not on my agenda. The snow drifts are probably deeper than the depth of my body in a horizontal position so I'll heed that warning.
However… nobody has mentioned snow people. Anatomically correct snow people have never graced the area around the log cabin we're staying in. I wouldn't want to show favoritism to U.S. America… Canada is, after all, in North America… I have some nifty wool scarves, a few chic hats, gloves and bikinis I could add to the snow people to make them "R" rated instead of "OH MY GOD!" rated. (Pausing here to ponder why there are bikinis in my luggage? It's winter here! Hmmm…)
Snow people are a form of art. You've seen ice sculptures… snow people are made of packed snow – a variation on ice crystals… - sort of. I shall contribute art to the Quebec countryside.
"You'd better not be thinking of building snow creatures, Sar."
The man is a mind reader!
"Not going to do that, dear."
I'm planning an entire snow VILLAGE with a snow FORT and lots of snow BALLS as ammunition. This will also be a charitable event. I shall donate all the carrots, celery stalks, and other green uglies. I'm so generous I can't stand it.
"I'm going into town for supplies. Behave yourself while I'm gone. Take a nap; you need to rest a little."
"How long will you be gone?" An innocent question…
"Two-three hours at the most."
Smiling… I love new projects.
~Sar~
People… I rarely get to my email on a regular basis. Friends have learned that it might take days for me to reply. It's not that I don't want to reply or that I lack basic manners, it's just that my life outside of the computer is busy, often chaotic and has its own demands. (Giant Neanderthal squids make many demands; it's in their DNA.)
If I participated in the many websites listed above and a whole bunch I've already forgotten, there wouldn't be anything to share. My life would be lost in cyberspace. (Not to mention what the giant squid would have to say about my spending time on the computer and not with him.)
"I think I'll start twittering and joining in on some of those websites where everyone communicates with everyone else on a regular (sometimes hourly) basis." I casually mentioned the other day, greasing the slide I was bound to slip down.
"No problem, bambina. You go right ahead and do that and spend every night over my lap – face down, butt up – that'll work for me," His Holiness remarked, flexing his biceps.
His Holiness has Popeye biceps despite the absence of spinach in our lives. I wonder if it's those other green uglies he eats…
"Would you like a sample?" he added.
I'm sure I've mentioned that the man was born without couth. Must be his Neanderthal ancestry.
Back to the subject of email. Between email and this occasional blog I'm pretty much occupied on the Internet. There are a few websites I visit regularly but I only participate minimally on them – the Navy wives site, a few fiber arts sites, a story site I used to chat in but now the chat group doesn't show up until way past my bedtime so I don't get to chat with them much. I don't even have time to visit my own links. Is that pathetic or what?
Meanwhile…
There's another big weather system moving up the U.S. east coast. We'll probably get some of it up here in the Quebec boonies. Not that there isn't plenty of snow and ice still blanketing us… I've been warned (repeatedly yawn) that snow angels are not on my agenda. The snow drifts are probably deeper than the depth of my body in a horizontal position so I'll heed that warning.
However… nobody has mentioned snow people. Anatomically correct snow people have never graced the area around the log cabin we're staying in. I wouldn't want to show favoritism to U.S. America… Canada is, after all, in North America… I have some nifty wool scarves, a few chic hats, gloves and bikinis I could add to the snow people to make them "R" rated instead of "OH MY GOD!" rated. (Pausing here to ponder why there are bikinis in my luggage? It's winter here! Hmmm…)
Snow people are a form of art. You've seen ice sculptures… snow people are made of packed snow – a variation on ice crystals… - sort of. I shall contribute art to the Quebec countryside.
"You'd better not be thinking of building snow creatures, Sar."
The man is a mind reader!
"Not going to do that, dear."
I'm planning an entire snow VILLAGE with a snow FORT and lots of snow BALLS as ammunition. This will also be a charitable event. I shall donate all the carrots, celery stalks, and other green uglies. I'm so generous I can't stand it.
"I'm going into town for supplies. Behave yourself while I'm gone. Take a nap; you need to rest a little."
"How long will you be gone?" An innocent question…
"Two-three hours at the most."
Smiling… I love new projects.
~Sar~
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Weather & a Wuss
Snow, ice pellets, freezing rain! Does it get any better than this? We're snug as a bug in our log cabin house up here in the Canadian boonies, fire blazing away. The pups are snoozing in front of the fire, the cat is lying on the mastiff's back occasionally giving the sweet animal a swat when the snoring gets loud. I'm drinking a LARGE mug of hot chocolate – Cowboy put a mega amount of marshmallows in it – and I'm eating chocolate lava brownies I made last night. (The giant squid is such a wuss. He's eating what he calls a normal breakfast – cream cheese omelet, toast, sausage, coffee.) (I do not like sausage.) Tsk. The man lacks a true spirit of adventure. I'm going to tell him so as soon as I finish the last of the brownies and have one foot out of the room.
I love winter! I love winter weather. I wouldn't mind going out on the deck and inhaling some of it but sure as shootin, the second I open the sliding door to the deck a behemoth monster will rise up and grab me, growl something not worth listening to and then no matter how many layers of clothing I'm wearing, I'll feel his giant paw on my teeny tiny backside. Tsk. Didn't I say he has no spirit of adventure? (He's a wuss, too.)
It's about 10 or so below zero right now; the wind is singing high pitched songs. Fog is pretty thick but I can just make out a few tree branches swaying. The lake is frozen, of course. The cat is fascinated with the sounds and sights but will eventually succumb to sleep; he has to get his 20 hours of snoozing in – it's his job. The pups continue to snore through it all. The giant squid is looking at me… I know that look. He notes the weather, my interest in it and is watching. He's a protective wuss, but still a wuss. No adventurous spirit. Tsk.
"Sar…" he says. It's a warning tone.
Tsk. Haven't done anything… yet.
I don't think he's going to get much done today; he'll be too busy watching me.
Cowboy says he'd like one of my chocolate lava brownies. Oh please! As if I'd share chocolate! I suggest he help himself to the Twinkies in the pantry. Some Italian mumbling follows. Oh dear. One of those words is parte inferior which translates to "bottom" and the other word – which I can't spell means to spank. I think I'll stuff the rest of the lava brownies in my mouth and take refuge behind the rotts.
"SAR!"
Oye. I think he drank too much coffee.
Did I mention it's foggy, alternating snow and freezing rain? The wind is blowing. I'm sitting behind 2 rottweilers eating chocolate lava brownies, drinking hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows. I'm fairly certain the giant squid is contemplating evil while he watches me. Okay, he just might have a little bit of an adventurous spirit. But he's still a wuss.
~Sar~
I love winter! I love winter weather. I wouldn't mind going out on the deck and inhaling some of it but sure as shootin, the second I open the sliding door to the deck a behemoth monster will rise up and grab me, growl something not worth listening to and then no matter how many layers of clothing I'm wearing, I'll feel his giant paw on my teeny tiny backside. Tsk. Didn't I say he has no spirit of adventure? (He's a wuss, too.)
It's about 10 or so below zero right now; the wind is singing high pitched songs. Fog is pretty thick but I can just make out a few tree branches swaying. The lake is frozen, of course. The cat is fascinated with the sounds and sights but will eventually succumb to sleep; he has to get his 20 hours of snoozing in – it's his job. The pups continue to snore through it all. The giant squid is looking at me… I know that look. He notes the weather, my interest in it and is watching. He's a protective wuss, but still a wuss. No adventurous spirit. Tsk.
"Sar…" he says. It's a warning tone.
Tsk. Haven't done anything… yet.
I don't think he's going to get much done today; he'll be too busy watching me.
Cowboy says he'd like one of my chocolate lava brownies. Oh please! As if I'd share chocolate! I suggest he help himself to the Twinkies in the pantry. Some Italian mumbling follows. Oh dear. One of those words is parte inferior which translates to "bottom" and the other word – which I can't spell means to spank. I think I'll stuff the rest of the lava brownies in my mouth and take refuge behind the rotts.
"SAR!"
Oye. I think he drank too much coffee.
Did I mention it's foggy, alternating snow and freezing rain? The wind is blowing. I'm sitting behind 2 rottweilers eating chocolate lava brownies, drinking hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows. I'm fairly certain the giant squid is contemplating evil while he watches me. Okay, he just might have a little bit of an adventurous spirit. But he's still a wuss.
~Sar~
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Checking in
Cowboy here.
The imp is napping; either the insomnia is back or it's the dosage on meds. I'm pleased she's resting. Sar needs a bit more down time than before those health issues cropped up. Those meds are a challenge to regulate. That rapid metabolism plays havoc with most of them; too little, the imp wilts – blood pressure and heart rate too low – too much, she's dizzy from an adrenaline high. We'll be heading to DC to check in with the medics if lab work is necessary. No need to tell you this option won't go over big with my wife. Usually this means an overnight stay in the hospital. Definitely not looking forward to that - neither are the medics.
We're enjoying quality time in the house where we spent our honeymoon; by a frozen lake in Quebec. The first time we were here the only way in was by floatplane; now there's a 2-lane gravel road that gives way to other roads eventually leading to a highway. 20+ years makes a difference. The house has been remodeled a few times over the years; the owners are old friends. Appliances are new; new rugs cover the wood floors, the furnace has been replaced. We like using the fireplace as much as possible; cozier that way plus mia bambina will fall asleep in front of a fire faster than simply going to bed.
There's enough snow on the ground to tempt the imp into making snow angels. That's not gonna happen. The temps are low. That'll keep the snow around for a while. When I let the dogs out I keep a watchful eye to be sure Sar stays inside. My wife has a bit of commentary to make when I come in – mostly reasons why she should enjoy a bit of fresh air. I open a window just enough to give her some. This leads to more commentary and the occasional swat on her backside. I already know I'm a Neanderthal but a protective one. A short while back the imp got out onto the deck; there was a full moon. Under a heavy coat she's in her birthday suit; flashed the neighborhood – said she was paying homage to the moon – I grabbed her, went back inside, warmed her up in the appropriate manner. That's my job; I take it seriously. *Smiling*
Mia bambina is cooking a bit, baking too. This makes her happy, keeps her relaxed. As long as she doesn't overdo things I'm content to let life happen in the old routine. There's plenty of food in the freezer; we won't starve. Her fiber art has taken a bit of a backseat; working on it about an hour or so a day; much more than that and a rest is in order. Naps make me happy; occasionally I join her.
I'm doing a bit of consulting, a bit of writing for the Navy. Catching up with some old matters that could use some revision. Glad I'm retired; no deadlines on this watch. Watching the imp has always been a full-time endeavor. Now I have the time to indulge it. It's quite enjoyable.
Cowboy
The imp is napping; either the insomnia is back or it's the dosage on meds. I'm pleased she's resting. Sar needs a bit more down time than before those health issues cropped up. Those meds are a challenge to regulate. That rapid metabolism plays havoc with most of them; too little, the imp wilts – blood pressure and heart rate too low – too much, she's dizzy from an adrenaline high. We'll be heading to DC to check in with the medics if lab work is necessary. No need to tell you this option won't go over big with my wife. Usually this means an overnight stay in the hospital. Definitely not looking forward to that - neither are the medics.
We're enjoying quality time in the house where we spent our honeymoon; by a frozen lake in Quebec. The first time we were here the only way in was by floatplane; now there's a 2-lane gravel road that gives way to other roads eventually leading to a highway. 20+ years makes a difference. The house has been remodeled a few times over the years; the owners are old friends. Appliances are new; new rugs cover the wood floors, the furnace has been replaced. We like using the fireplace as much as possible; cozier that way plus mia bambina will fall asleep in front of a fire faster than simply going to bed.
There's enough snow on the ground to tempt the imp into making snow angels. That's not gonna happen. The temps are low. That'll keep the snow around for a while. When I let the dogs out I keep a watchful eye to be sure Sar stays inside. My wife has a bit of commentary to make when I come in – mostly reasons why she should enjoy a bit of fresh air. I open a window just enough to give her some. This leads to more commentary and the occasional swat on her backside. I already know I'm a Neanderthal but a protective one. A short while back the imp got out onto the deck; there was a full moon. Under a heavy coat she's in her birthday suit; flashed the neighborhood – said she was paying homage to the moon – I grabbed her, went back inside, warmed her up in the appropriate manner. That's my job; I take it seriously. *Smiling*
Mia bambina is cooking a bit, baking too. This makes her happy, keeps her relaxed. As long as she doesn't overdo things I'm content to let life happen in the old routine. There's plenty of food in the freezer; we won't starve. Her fiber art has taken a bit of a backseat; working on it about an hour or so a day; much more than that and a rest is in order. Naps make me happy; occasionally I join her.
I'm doing a bit of consulting, a bit of writing for the Navy. Catching up with some old matters that could use some revision. Glad I'm retired; no deadlines on this watch. Watching the imp has always been a full-time endeavor. Now I have the time to indulge it. It's quite enjoyable.
Cowboy
Friday, January 08, 2010
RECALCULATING!
Do you have a GPS in your car? We're in northern Quebec for a while and though we've been here numerous times, we're not locals. So finding our way around is sometimes confusing (and the natives all have an accent…) The GPS in Cowboy's SUV has a mute button for the noisy lady giving directions. When His Holiness gets tired of her voice and/or thinks she's taking us the long way around to get somewhere, he ignores her by shutting her up.
We rented another car for emergencies – a backup – the snow/black ice conditions are unpredictable. The lady in the GPS is very loud, very firm in her directions and very annoyed when Cowboy doesn't follow them to the letter. He yells at her. LOL!
"I heard you the FIRST time" he yells.
"Ok, ok. I'm turning here!" muttered with sarcasm.
"For cryin' out loud…" (the rest of his words hissed in Italian.)
There is no mute button on this particular GPS.
It's all I can do not to laugh out loud.
I can't help myself; a giggle or two (or more) escape and I get the "look" from the other side of the car. BullyBoy, SweetPea and Tank are in the back seat and on my hand signal, BullyBoy slurps the back of the squid's neck. Cowboy turns his head to the side for a second and growls at the mastiff. BullyBoy thinks that's a romantic gesture and licks the squid's neck again. (Jeez! I hope BB isn't going gay on me!) Both rotts are looking out the window and oblivious. They'll only pay attention to the giant squid if he has something to eat that they want.
The GPS lady is yelling the same directions that were ignored. This time she's louder, firmer and getting on all our nerves. SweetPea barks at her; Tank growls. BullyBoy keeps loving Cowboy's neck. I am trying not to laugh out loud but as fate would have it, I lose it. I'm laughing so hard Cowboy pulls off to the side of the road. He's annoyed… frustrated that we're lost, and ready to smack something… somebody… err…
He can't smack the dogs… they smack (bite) back. He can't spank me; I'm the innocent here… (I'm a giggling innocent but innocent regardless and if he tried, my dogs would chew him up like spitting tobacco.)
Cowboy takes command! He slams his fist on the dashboard to shut the GPS lady up. She keeps yelling… "RECALCULATING"
"You just hit a woman!" I tell him, trying not to laugh in his face.
A lot of muttered Italian follows.
Meanwhile, the GPS lady is still yelling "RECALCULATING" "RECALCULATING" "RECALCULATING" over and over again. I'm worried the squid is going to shoot the dashboard! Tsk. I take pity on my husband's frustration and disconnect the GPS by simply pushing the "exit" button on the navigation system.
Cowboy frowns, thinks the GPS lady died, relaxes and pulls back onto the highway.
~sigh~
The things I do to keep harmony in our lives. This might be one of those naughty/nice moments I need to jot down in my first 2010 letter to Santa.
Meanwhile… I had occasion to ride in the same car with the same GPS lady with our friend David at the wheel. Wowzers! That Marine cusses in English! I've heard all those words at one time or another but his combinations were truly creative! I must remember those for future… uh… stuff.
When Cowboy and I got home the night he slammed his fist on the dashboard, I teased him and said he had no reason to burn my butt. He said "Wanna bet?"
Tsk!
~Sar~
We rented another car for emergencies – a backup – the snow/black ice conditions are unpredictable. The lady in the GPS is very loud, very firm in her directions and very annoyed when Cowboy doesn't follow them to the letter. He yells at her. LOL!
"I heard you the FIRST time" he yells.
"Ok, ok. I'm turning here!" muttered with sarcasm.
"For cryin' out loud…" (the rest of his words hissed in Italian.)
There is no mute button on this particular GPS.
It's all I can do not to laugh out loud.
I can't help myself; a giggle or two (or more) escape and I get the "look" from the other side of the car. BullyBoy, SweetPea and Tank are in the back seat and on my hand signal, BullyBoy slurps the back of the squid's neck. Cowboy turns his head to the side for a second and growls at the mastiff. BullyBoy thinks that's a romantic gesture and licks the squid's neck again. (Jeez! I hope BB isn't going gay on me!) Both rotts are looking out the window and oblivious. They'll only pay attention to the giant squid if he has something to eat that they want.
The GPS lady is yelling the same directions that were ignored. This time she's louder, firmer and getting on all our nerves. SweetPea barks at her; Tank growls. BullyBoy keeps loving Cowboy's neck. I am trying not to laugh out loud but as fate would have it, I lose it. I'm laughing so hard Cowboy pulls off to the side of the road. He's annoyed… frustrated that we're lost, and ready to smack something… somebody… err…
He can't smack the dogs… they smack (bite) back. He can't spank me; I'm the innocent here… (I'm a giggling innocent but innocent regardless and if he tried, my dogs would chew him up like spitting tobacco.)
Cowboy takes command! He slams his fist on the dashboard to shut the GPS lady up. She keeps yelling… "RECALCULATING"
"You just hit a woman!" I tell him, trying not to laugh in his face.
A lot of muttered Italian follows.
Meanwhile, the GPS lady is still yelling "RECALCULATING" "RECALCULATING" "RECALCULATING" over and over again. I'm worried the squid is going to shoot the dashboard! Tsk. I take pity on my husband's frustration and disconnect the GPS by simply pushing the "exit" button on the navigation system.
Cowboy frowns, thinks the GPS lady died, relaxes and pulls back onto the highway.
~sigh~
The things I do to keep harmony in our lives. This might be one of those naughty/nice moments I need to jot down in my first 2010 letter to Santa.
Meanwhile… I had occasion to ride in the same car with the same GPS lady with our friend David at the wheel. Wowzers! That Marine cusses in English! I've heard all those words at one time or another but his combinations were truly creative! I must remember those for future… uh… stuff.
When Cowboy and I got home the night he slammed his fist on the dashboard, I teased him and said he had no reason to burn my butt. He said "Wanna bet?"
Tsk!
~Sar~
Friday, January 01, 2010
Happy New Year!
A brand new year. So many things to accomplish – lots of chocolate to consume, lots of mischief to plan… I actually don't plan mischief; it sort of happens naturally. Cowboy says I'm a magnet for mischief. Hmmm, that doesn't sound too bad. I'm feeling much better these days – my energy level is increasing slowly. And… did you know that on New Year's Eve – last night – we had a *BLUE* Moon! Naturally, I wanted to check it out. It's not that often we get two full moons in the same month. I bundled up – it was in the mid-20s last night. (We're still on the East Coast temporarily.) Went out on the 2nd floor deck – the yard is still snow deep. And as soon as I got out, I flashed the moon and probably whatever neighbors down the side of the cliff that happened to be looking in my direction. I was only able to dance for a few minutes.
Guess who caught me…
The giant squid muttered something in Italian when he bounced me over his shoulder. I wish he's speak a little more distinctly when he's cursing… so I can try to memorize the expression and find out what it means. It sounded ominous. My excursion was short-lived but I wanted the moon to know I hadn't forgotten it and that I'll be back when the weather is warmer.
His Holiness wasn't as annoyed as I thought he might be but he reminded me that his hand hadn't forgotten how to heat my teeny tiny tush. Tsk. I reminded him I was still feeling less than 100%. He reminded me that it was the first day of the New Year and that my score card already had a black "X" on it. Double tsk. Apparently I forgot that he's so-o-o O-L-D he has to write things down so he can remind himself of how naughty I've been. I need to spray cheese glop on that score card so one of the critters will sniff it and eat it.
Run Amok Week was a huge success! I managed to jam snow down the giant squid's back when he was shoveling the driveway. Jumped him, squished the cold snow down his jacket, leaped free but tripped over one of the pups. The former SEAL retaliated – flipped me under his arm and pretended my backside was a percussion instrument. Did I ever mention the man is totally lacking in couth!
I made peach cobbler, served it hot – as a snack one afternoon. Covered it in peach ice cream. While the squid shoveled it in, I stood on the other side of the room, and teased him in very naughty ways. He was torn between eating the cobbler hot… or tackling me – a really hard decision for a man who thinks peaches are as important and necessary as the air he breathes. With his mouth full… he tried to grab me. I eluded him, jumping on and over furniture, keeping the pups between us and in general, making him work for it.
I think the cobbler fortified him…
Got caught. The peach cobbler was dumped on my belly where it was consumed! And the band played on.
Wishing you all the joys of the New Year and new decade. My New Year resolution is to create and enjoy a whole new set of naughty things to do.
~Sar~
Guess who caught me…
The giant squid muttered something in Italian when he bounced me over his shoulder. I wish he's speak a little more distinctly when he's cursing… so I can try to memorize the expression and find out what it means. It sounded ominous. My excursion was short-lived but I wanted the moon to know I hadn't forgotten it and that I'll be back when the weather is warmer.
His Holiness wasn't as annoyed as I thought he might be but he reminded me that his hand hadn't forgotten how to heat my teeny tiny tush. Tsk. I reminded him I was still feeling less than 100%. He reminded me that it was the first day of the New Year and that my score card already had a black "X" on it. Double tsk. Apparently I forgot that he's so-o-o O-L-D he has to write things down so he can remind himself of how naughty I've been. I need to spray cheese glop on that score card so one of the critters will sniff it and eat it.
Run Amok Week was a huge success! I managed to jam snow down the giant squid's back when he was shoveling the driveway. Jumped him, squished the cold snow down his jacket, leaped free but tripped over one of the pups. The former SEAL retaliated – flipped me under his arm and pretended my backside was a percussion instrument. Did I ever mention the man is totally lacking in couth!
I made peach cobbler, served it hot – as a snack one afternoon. Covered it in peach ice cream. While the squid shoveled it in, I stood on the other side of the room, and teased him in very naughty ways. He was torn between eating the cobbler hot… or tackling me – a really hard decision for a man who thinks peaches are as important and necessary as the air he breathes. With his mouth full… he tried to grab me. I eluded him, jumping on and over furniture, keeping the pups between us and in general, making him work for it.
I think the cobbler fortified him…
Got caught. The peach cobbler was dumped on my belly where it was consumed! And the band played on.
Wishing you all the joys of the New Year and new decade. My New Year resolution is to create and enjoy a whole new set of naughty things to do.
~Sar~
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Run Amok Week!
Oh Joy! Today is the first day of Run Amok Week! I'm so excited I can barely stand it. The giant squid is in full Neanderthal mode; I'm soooo proud I can do that to him.
In case you weren't aware of the week… Santa's "naughty/nice" list ends Christmas Eve when the jolly old fat guy shows up to do his thing. The new list doesn't begin until January 1st. So that leaves a WHOLE week with nobody taking notes, keeping score and being disagreeably Neanderthal-like. It's a week to run amok! No swats, spanks; you are home F-R-E-E!
This morning, I made oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon for the giant squid, a milkshake for me, oatmeal and bourbon infested eggnog for the pups to wash it down. I thought His Holiness would go through the roof.
"My bourbon" he shouted.
Tsk. He can't drink alllll of it and besides, SweetPea and BullyBoy were thirsty; oatmeal does that. Later I let them sample the cheese puffs I made along with some of the wine that had been sitting around for a while. My pups snored it off all afternoon. Such mellow pups.
I sat on Cowboy's lap while I ate half a box of chocolate turtles and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. Chocolate does that to me. Just when he was getting ready to do one of those caveman – over the shoulder maneuvers – and take us somewhere with more privacy, the phone rang. I continued to eat the chocolate and do a slow strip tease in front of him. He was watching me and trying to be civil while talking on the phone. It was a real challenge. He mumbled a few responses to the caller and had to repeat himself several times. When he finally ended the call, I was halfway up the stairs. The pups were between me and the frustrated man I married in the last century.
"Come and get me," I sang. (I also put the pups in a sit/stay/watch mode. Cowboy didn't have a chance to get past them to me.)
He yelled!
Tsk! No couth.
He made threats.
I laughed. "It's Run Amok Week! All rules are null and void."
"That's what you think," he growled. (He growls a lot when he doesn't get his way immediately.)
"What's it worth?" I asked, stripping my undies off, tossing them at him.
"Anything!" (What a frustrated man!)
Anything? LOL! I am so good at being naughty. I will make the man pay up allll week.
Okay, time to up the ante. I think I shall go slide down the banister in my new lingerie. Be sure to run amok. It only happens once a year. Let your creativity shine! Mine doesn't need any polishing.
Running amok… before I run out of steam.
~Sar~
In case you weren't aware of the week… Santa's "naughty/nice" list ends Christmas Eve when the jolly old fat guy shows up to do his thing. The new list doesn't begin until January 1st. So that leaves a WHOLE week with nobody taking notes, keeping score and being disagreeably Neanderthal-like. It's a week to run amok! No swats, spanks; you are home F-R-E-E!
This morning, I made oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon for the giant squid, a milkshake for me, oatmeal and bourbon infested eggnog for the pups to wash it down. I thought His Holiness would go through the roof.
"My bourbon" he shouted.
Tsk. He can't drink alllll of it and besides, SweetPea and BullyBoy were thirsty; oatmeal does that. Later I let them sample the cheese puffs I made along with some of the wine that had been sitting around for a while. My pups snored it off all afternoon. Such mellow pups.
I sat on Cowboy's lap while I ate half a box of chocolate turtles and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. Chocolate does that to me. Just when he was getting ready to do one of those caveman – over the shoulder maneuvers – and take us somewhere with more privacy, the phone rang. I continued to eat the chocolate and do a slow strip tease in front of him. He was watching me and trying to be civil while talking on the phone. It was a real challenge. He mumbled a few responses to the caller and had to repeat himself several times. When he finally ended the call, I was halfway up the stairs. The pups were between me and the frustrated man I married in the last century.
"Come and get me," I sang. (I also put the pups in a sit/stay/watch mode. Cowboy didn't have a chance to get past them to me.)
He yelled!
Tsk! No couth.
He made threats.
I laughed. "It's Run Amok Week! All rules are null and void."
"That's what you think," he growled. (He growls a lot when he doesn't get his way immediately.)
"What's it worth?" I asked, stripping my undies off, tossing them at him.
"Anything!" (What a frustrated man!)
Anything? LOL! I am so good at being naughty. I will make the man pay up allll week.
Okay, time to up the ante. I think I shall go slide down the banister in my new lingerie. Be sure to run amok. It only happens once a year. Let your creativity shine! Mine doesn't need any polishing.
Running amok… before I run out of steam.
~Sar~
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Bloody Mary
Do you imbibe alcoholic drinks? I'm fond of Kahlua on the rocks and the occasional sip - sometimes a glass - of wine. It has to be really good wine. One glass is my limit; then I fall asleep. The giant squid drinks mostly wine but now and then he wants a drink. He likes Bloody Marys. So the other night he asked if I'd make him one since I was already in the kitchen trying to convince the mastiff to eat the ickkkk left over broccoli that I had smothered in cheese. The mastiff wasn't buying it.
I pour the vodka into the glass, reach for the tomato juice... no tomato juice but we do have a can of V8. I substituted that. One crummy stalk of celery that looked half dead. Threw that away and checked to see what other green ugly was lying around. Found these teeny tiny little cabbages a.k.a. Brussels sprouts... threw those in, put a smile on my face and gave the drink to my lover.
He thanked me with a smile, buried his nose back into the scintillating book he was reading (some Navy nonsense) and took a GIANT swallow of the bloody Mary. Choked, made a god-awful sound and leaped up from his chair. I made a hasty retreat to the kitchen and got under the table with the mastiff. The rott was in another part of the house doing his usual evening routine - trying to drown one of the cats in the commode.
"SARADORA!" The man can really yell. You'd think he would have been more appreciative of my efforts. Naturally the rott came running... sniffed the bloody Mary and sneezed in it. I stayed in the kitchen with the mastiff.
"You can't spank me," I reminded him, still recuperating from surgery, etc. He muttered something in Italian. I don't think I've ever heard that particular phrase before...
Yes, I'm feeling better. Out of bed several hours a day, might even break down and cook a meal soon. Family is here; tis wonderful to have them with us. Snow on the ground - 22 inches of white stuff. When I woke up this morning and saw all that glorious snow I felt a warm (HOT)presence step up behind me. It said (hissed) words like snow angel, burning butt, and sleeping belly down till Christmas 2020 if I even thought about going out in it.
Truly the man is a baboon butthead!
Of course I thought about it. But having been feeling less than 100% for far too long, I pushed it to the back burner for now. 22 inches would make a really nice deep snow angel. I gave my word to His Holiness that I wouldn't be making snow angels any time this week. (I didn't say anything about next week, however. Just keeping my options open.)
As for the bloody Mary, I won't try to bartender again any time soon. The giant squid settled for a glass of wine; I poured Kahlua all over a pint of French Vanilla ice cream. Delicious.
Noticed that my blog is being hacked regularly. Was told by blogspot folks to delete gadgets and widgets - did that - still hacked occasionally. May have to delete the blog and start a new one at a different url if this keeps up. If I do this I'll have no way of letting you know unless you're on the "announce list" -bottom of index page here and at story website to join if you're interested.
Might not get online before Christmas/New Years. Wishing all of you the joys of the season and a happy, healthy and joyous new year.
~Sar~
I pour the vodka into the glass, reach for the tomato juice... no tomato juice but we do have a can of V8. I substituted that. One crummy stalk of celery that looked half dead. Threw that away and checked to see what other green ugly was lying around. Found these teeny tiny little cabbages a.k.a. Brussels sprouts... threw those in, put a smile on my face and gave the drink to my lover.
He thanked me with a smile, buried his nose back into the scintillating book he was reading (some Navy nonsense) and took a GIANT swallow of the bloody Mary. Choked, made a god-awful sound and leaped up from his chair. I made a hasty retreat to the kitchen and got under the table with the mastiff. The rott was in another part of the house doing his usual evening routine - trying to drown one of the cats in the commode.
"SARADORA!" The man can really yell. You'd think he would have been more appreciative of my efforts. Naturally the rott came running... sniffed the bloody Mary and sneezed in it. I stayed in the kitchen with the mastiff.
"You can't spank me," I reminded him, still recuperating from surgery, etc. He muttered something in Italian. I don't think I've ever heard that particular phrase before...
Yes, I'm feeling better. Out of bed several hours a day, might even break down and cook a meal soon. Family is here; tis wonderful to have them with us. Snow on the ground - 22 inches of white stuff. When I woke up this morning and saw all that glorious snow I felt a warm (HOT)presence step up behind me. It said (hissed) words like snow angel, burning butt, and sleeping belly down till Christmas 2020 if I even thought about going out in it.
Truly the man is a baboon butthead!
Of course I thought about it. But having been feeling less than 100% for far too long, I pushed it to the back burner for now. 22 inches would make a really nice deep snow angel. I gave my word to His Holiness that I wouldn't be making snow angels any time this week. (I didn't say anything about next week, however. Just keeping my options open.)
As for the bloody Mary, I won't try to bartender again any time soon. The giant squid settled for a glass of wine; I poured Kahlua all over a pint of French Vanilla ice cream. Delicious.
Noticed that my blog is being hacked regularly. Was told by blogspot folks to delete gadgets and widgets - did that - still hacked occasionally. May have to delete the blog and start a new one at a different url if this keeps up. If I do this I'll have no way of letting you know unless you're on the "announce list" -bottom of index page here and at story website to join if you're interested.
Might not get online before Christmas/New Years. Wishing all of you the joys of the season and a happy, healthy and joyous new year.
~Sar~
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Thankful
Cowboy here. Again I have been remiss in updating you on current events. My apologies. Life has been chaotic ups and downs. Sar has had 4 surgical procedures since Thanksgiving week and is now home at last.
Gall bladder surgery was textbook; 2 other surgeries to remove gall stones and kidney stones went well. Last surgery was a bit more complicated. It had to be delayed a few days so Sar wasn't under anesthesia for several days in a row. Repairing her intestinal tract was a longer event. We have a bit of recovery ahead of us.
My wife's family was here - still here - for the ordeal. They took over the 7th floor of the hospital. Max almost got us kicked out; he lit a cigar in the surgical waiting room. Nerves. Glory inspected the hospital's kitchen and Violet wanted to see the doc's medical school records. (Sar must have learned that from her.) Long time military friends helped sneak the pups in to see the imp. Between the Rott and the Mastiff there's about 280 lbs of canine. The dogs were beside themselves seeing Sar, kissing her. Sar was over the moon about the whole visit; did wonders for her mental health. Worth all the aggravation to get the dogs in and out.
All in all, the medics were patient with us, willing to accomodate all our demands, answer our questions, offer comfort. I was grateful for their attitude; True to form Sar was suspicious. Even so she asked me to remind her to send thank you notes to the nurses and other staff that took care of her.
She's been on liquids, finally moved to some solid foods. Should be eating normally in a day or 2. Glory plans to make Thanksgiving dinner for us sometime next week. Believe me. I am thankful. Having her home and in my arms each night is healing for both of us. I've told her she's in for a severe comeuppance for worrying me, turning my hair grey, and taking years off my life. The imp rolled her eyes.
Light snow as I write this. Sar's asleep now but when she wakes and sees the snow it will be like an early Christmas. My job will be to keep her warm and dry in the house. Wish me luck.
Cowboy
Gall bladder surgery was textbook; 2 other surgeries to remove gall stones and kidney stones went well. Last surgery was a bit more complicated. It had to be delayed a few days so Sar wasn't under anesthesia for several days in a row. Repairing her intestinal tract was a longer event. We have a bit of recovery ahead of us.
My wife's family was here - still here - for the ordeal. They took over the 7th floor of the hospital. Max almost got us kicked out; he lit a cigar in the surgical waiting room. Nerves. Glory inspected the hospital's kitchen and Violet wanted to see the doc's medical school records. (Sar must have learned that from her.) Long time military friends helped sneak the pups in to see the imp. Between the Rott and the Mastiff there's about 280 lbs of canine. The dogs were beside themselves seeing Sar, kissing her. Sar was over the moon about the whole visit; did wonders for her mental health. Worth all the aggravation to get the dogs in and out.
All in all, the medics were patient with us, willing to accomodate all our demands, answer our questions, offer comfort. I was grateful for their attitude; True to form Sar was suspicious. Even so she asked me to remind her to send thank you notes to the nurses and other staff that took care of her.
She's been on liquids, finally moved to some solid foods. Should be eating normally in a day or 2. Glory plans to make Thanksgiving dinner for us sometime next week. Believe me. I am thankful. Having her home and in my arms each night is healing for both of us. I've told her she's in for a severe comeuppance for worrying me, turning my hair grey, and taking years off my life. The imp rolled her eyes.
Light snow as I write this. Sar's asleep now but when she wakes and sees the snow it will be like an early Christmas. My job will be to keep her warm and dry in the house. Wish me luck.
Cowboy
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Filled with goodness, that's me!
I had hoped to update the blog last night but I was on a sugar high. When I came down I could barely keep my eyes open. We had severe thunderstorms which meant we had just a few trick-or-treaters. Wunderbar! More chocolate for me!
I ate the first stash of candy Cowboy bought so when he came home with a 2nd stash... he stuck it in a cabinet sooooo high, standing on a chair wasn't tall enough for me to reach. No couth. I waited till he left the house and heaved one chair on top of another. Climbed up... I climb trees you know - this was a piece of cake - and retrieved the goodies. Ate about half, hid the rest for another time. If he doesn't want me to touch it, he ought to buy candy I won't eat.
Naturally the couthless Neanderthal checked the cabinet the morning of Halloween. He glared at me. I, of course, never admit to guilt of any kind. There's candy, chocolate, Twinkies et al in the house... it's mine. I don't understand his problem. So he went out and bought more. LOL! Then we had severe thunderstorms. Yes! There is an angel watching out for me. So I picked up a novel, cuddled in front of the fire, the chocolate stash on my lap and had a terrific evening. The giant squid also had a book to read, drank some wine and only got up when an intrepid and drenched goblin came to the door. A great Halloween night!
Was chatting with a friend the other night - don't remember how the subject came up but I mentioned something about not being able to visualize the giant squid as a little boy. I said I had pictures his mom gave me - Cowboy dressed up for Halloween as a super hero! So cute! She suggested I send the pics to The Navy Times. I think I'll enlarge a few of them, hang them on the Xmas tree, share them with friends. They should get a few laughs. Because Cowboy reads the blog and often contributes to it, I've already sent the photos to be enlarged. I'm sure he'll have something to say about it - Yes, I'm sitting while I can.
And on the subject of being an angel... I sent a note to Santa to let him know how good I've been lately. True, my health has limited my activities but so what! Good is good regardless and I have to tell you being THAT good is downright boring. His Holiness gave me a swat the other day for NOTHING! It wasn't a sweet one either so I think I should do something to justify it. Thinking... and open to suggestions.
Surgery in about 3 weeks - feeling pretty good but still tire easily. Working the dogs in the house so they can burn a little energy; Cowboy takes them for a walk - one at a time - one always stays with me. It's cool out but not really cold. My over protective husband is concerned I'll catch cold and have to delay surgery. He's a true worry wort. I told him I loaded up on orange jelly bellies, green M&Ms, cantaloupe and honeydew mellon. I'm positive that's as much Vit. C as a person needs. No need to write to him and fill him with other food ideas. I've got it covered.
Not cooking or baking these days, eating what the squid fixes. Fortunately he doesn't say too much when I ignore the green things he puts on the table. He tells me he's keeping score. I no longer remind him how o-l-d he is and how his memory is totally shot. I'm good that way.
~Sar~
I ate the first stash of candy Cowboy bought so when he came home with a 2nd stash... he stuck it in a cabinet sooooo high, standing on a chair wasn't tall enough for me to reach. No couth. I waited till he left the house and heaved one chair on top of another. Climbed up... I climb trees you know - this was a piece of cake - and retrieved the goodies. Ate about half, hid the rest for another time. If he doesn't want me to touch it, he ought to buy candy I won't eat.
Naturally the couthless Neanderthal checked the cabinet the morning of Halloween. He glared at me. I, of course, never admit to guilt of any kind. There's candy, chocolate, Twinkies et al in the house... it's mine. I don't understand his problem. So he went out and bought more. LOL! Then we had severe thunderstorms. Yes! There is an angel watching out for me. So I picked up a novel, cuddled in front of the fire, the chocolate stash on my lap and had a terrific evening. The giant squid also had a book to read, drank some wine and only got up when an intrepid and drenched goblin came to the door. A great Halloween night!
Was chatting with a friend the other night - don't remember how the subject came up but I mentioned something about not being able to visualize the giant squid as a little boy. I said I had pictures his mom gave me - Cowboy dressed up for Halloween as a super hero! So cute! She suggested I send the pics to The Navy Times. I think I'll enlarge a few of them, hang them on the Xmas tree, share them with friends. They should get a few laughs. Because Cowboy reads the blog and often contributes to it, I've already sent the photos to be enlarged. I'm sure he'll have something to say about it - Yes, I'm sitting while I can.
And on the subject of being an angel... I sent a note to Santa to let him know how good I've been lately. True, my health has limited my activities but so what! Good is good regardless and I have to tell you being THAT good is downright boring. His Holiness gave me a swat the other day for NOTHING! It wasn't a sweet one either so I think I should do something to justify it. Thinking... and open to suggestions.
Surgery in about 3 weeks - feeling pretty good but still tire easily. Working the dogs in the house so they can burn a little energy; Cowboy takes them for a walk - one at a time - one always stays with me. It's cool out but not really cold. My over protective husband is concerned I'll catch cold and have to delay surgery. He's a true worry wort. I told him I loaded up on orange jelly bellies, green M&Ms, cantaloupe and honeydew mellon. I'm positive that's as much Vit. C as a person needs. No need to write to him and fill him with other food ideas. I've got it covered.
Not cooking or baking these days, eating what the squid fixes. Fortunately he doesn't say too much when I ignore the green things he puts on the table. He tells me he's keeping score. I no longer remind him how o-l-d he is and how his memory is totally shot. I'm good that way.
~Sar~
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Sneaking Online
Yes, it's me! I have a brand new laptop, unfortunately Windows Vista but soon to be upgraded to Windows 7. Vista is the pits! Cowboy and our host are outside trying to determine if the high winds we are experiencing will dislodge the satellite dish. Heaven forbid they should miss a football game. I think it's football; could be baseball. Whatever.
I'm feeling pretty darn good all things considered. Should be in tip-top shape to undergo surgery. Docs have said the surgery is routine and I should be back to normal (mischief) in about a week. This is a great relief because it's very stressful to be so well behaved. Cowboy said I have run up a list of "naughties" that need to be addressed. Honestly, the man is delusional. And then there's his memory. It's shot! I'm sure he disremembers things. And... he's O-L-D! Old people (especially men) have lousy memories.
My SweetPea and BullyBoy are with us. We left Tank at home. Tank's showing his age - almost nine now. And he still misses his mate, Panda, sleeping with her toys and keeping her old collar under his muzzle when he's on his bed.
It's lovely here on the East coast - leaves turning, lots of red and orange and gold. The house we're staying in is over 4,000 feet elevation. Lots of cloud cover in the morning. There are two decks; one on the main floor and one in the basement. I checked out the basement deck; got two good breaths in before a Neanderthal hauled me back inside. The man is totally lacking in couth. When his arm looked like it was about to descend in the direction of my teeeny tiny butt, I reminded him I wasn't 100%. He said if I could stay out on the deck in the early morning air, he could justifiably swat me. Tsk. Did I mention he's often delusional?
And... I hear him coming into the house. Time to regroup and jump back into bed... I'll catch up with you again soon.
~Sar
I'm feeling pretty darn good all things considered. Should be in tip-top shape to undergo surgery. Docs have said the surgery is routine and I should be back to normal (mischief) in about a week. This is a great relief because it's very stressful to be so well behaved. Cowboy said I have run up a list of "naughties" that need to be addressed. Honestly, the man is delusional. And then there's his memory. It's shot! I'm sure he disremembers things. And... he's O-L-D! Old people (especially men) have lousy memories.
My SweetPea and BullyBoy are with us. We left Tank at home. Tank's showing his age - almost nine now. And he still misses his mate, Panda, sleeping with her toys and keeping her old collar under his muzzle when he's on his bed.
It's lovely here on the East coast - leaves turning, lots of red and orange and gold. The house we're staying in is over 4,000 feet elevation. Lots of cloud cover in the morning. There are two decks; one on the main floor and one in the basement. I checked out the basement deck; got two good breaths in before a Neanderthal hauled me back inside. The man is totally lacking in couth. When his arm looked like it was about to descend in the direction of my teeeny tiny butt, I reminded him I wasn't 100%. He said if I could stay out on the deck in the early morning air, he could justifiably swat me. Tsk. Did I mention he's often delusional?
And... I hear him coming into the house. Time to regroup and jump back into bed... I'll catch up with you again soon.
~Sar
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Another Update
Cowboy here. Currently we're on the east coast, have a medical consultation with a team of medics over the next few days. Sar will have surgery @ 3rd week of November - before Thanksgiving - in a major trauma center that has been successful dealing with her particular gastro-intestinal needs. If all goes well her hospital stay should be brief. A week of recuperation at a friend's home and then back to the west coast.
In the interim, my wife has been "doing her own thing." If I don't have to leave the house too early I make her breakfast - eggs or pancakes - something filling and healthy. If left on her own, the imp will consume a full pot of coffee, eat a half gallon of ice cream or a box of twinkies for breakfast. When I ask her what she ate, she gets that innocent look on her face and lies through her teeth. When I ask if she's telling the truth, she says "maybe." I let her know her "safe status" will soon be over. The woman laughs.
She wants a puppy - preferably 2 - for Christmas. Her Rott and Mastiff are getting up there in years and Sar wants to start training new pups to take over when the other 2 retire. I'm giving this serious consideration. I'll contact the breeders where we got SweetPea and BullyBoy and see if they are expecting litters that will be ready for adoption around the holidays. Puppies in the house make for good entertainment but a lot of work. Sar's been through a lot this past year; if this will make her happy, it's worth serious thought. The downside is that she may not be strong enough by Christmas to start dealing with the demands of training fast-growing pups. Rotts and Mastiffs are known for their strength and stubborness.
Some of you have asked about our good friends David and Bull. David is in the Solomons helping the relief effort from recent tsunamis. Bull has a steady girlfriend. Don't know any details, met her once, very pretty.
The imp has been climbing stairs. If she thinks this will lead to climbing trees, her "safe status" will end abruptly. She's been pushing limits and so far I've given her a lot of slack. That can't last forever. I am happy to report she's been tinkering with a few unfinished stories - a few sentences here and there. Bottom line: she's a bit stronger and healthier every day. There's more healing in her future but things are looking up.
Cowboy
In the interim, my wife has been "doing her own thing." If I don't have to leave the house too early I make her breakfast - eggs or pancakes - something filling and healthy. If left on her own, the imp will consume a full pot of coffee, eat a half gallon of ice cream or a box of twinkies for breakfast. When I ask her what she ate, she gets that innocent look on her face and lies through her teeth. When I ask if she's telling the truth, she says "maybe." I let her know her "safe status" will soon be over. The woman laughs.
She wants a puppy - preferably 2 - for Christmas. Her Rott and Mastiff are getting up there in years and Sar wants to start training new pups to take over when the other 2 retire. I'm giving this serious consideration. I'll contact the breeders where we got SweetPea and BullyBoy and see if they are expecting litters that will be ready for adoption around the holidays. Puppies in the house make for good entertainment but a lot of work. Sar's been through a lot this past year; if this will make her happy, it's worth serious thought. The downside is that she may not be strong enough by Christmas to start dealing with the demands of training fast-growing pups. Rotts and Mastiffs are known for their strength and stubborness.
Some of you have asked about our good friends David and Bull. David is in the Solomons helping the relief effort from recent tsunamis. Bull has a steady girlfriend. Don't know any details, met her once, very pretty.
The imp has been climbing stairs. If she thinks this will lead to climbing trees, her "safe status" will end abruptly. She's been pushing limits and so far I've given her a lot of slack. That can't last forever. I am happy to report she's been tinkering with a few unfinished stories - a few sentences here and there. Bottom line: she's a bit stronger and healthier every day. There's more healing in her future but things are looking up.
Cowboy
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Imp Update
Cowboy here. My wife is slowly - very slowly - recovering. The medics are pleased with her progress but she has a bit more healing to do before she can undergo surgery to correct the problem. Thought surgery would take place early October; looks like November will be the earliest.
For now, Sar is awake most of the day, out of bed under her own steam several hours each time, looking more like herself. I know she's feeling better; she's back to making demands-- twinkies, chocolate, green jelly beans. She ate Mac & cheese for breakfast. (Had to make it for the dogs.) She's put on some much needed weight-about 7 lbs-which puts her past the 100 lb mark. For this I am grateful. Hoping this continues; she could use another 10-15 lbs.
Did I mention the imp's taught the dogs to "sing" on command? Driving me nuts. Her friend Alli is here from Chicago. The 2 of them with their heads together is about as daunting as looking down the barrel of an AK47. No telling what mischief those 2 are brewing.
Sar thinks she can do pretty much what she's always done but her body doesn't always cooperate. She continues to tire easily. Naps aren't as frequent but she does rest often. We've had a bit of rain which makes her happy and keeps her calm. I hold her on my lap and watch the rain with her. She says I hold her so she doesn't go out in it. That's 1 reason. Holding her makes me happy.
Alli is encouraging the imp to write. I bought her a new laptop for just that purpose. We'll see. I've kept her up to date on the email she's received from you. Both of us appreciate your many good wishes for her recovery.
Cowboy
For now, Sar is awake most of the day, out of bed under her own steam several hours each time, looking more like herself. I know she's feeling better; she's back to making demands-- twinkies, chocolate, green jelly beans. She ate Mac & cheese for breakfast. (Had to make it for the dogs.) She's put on some much needed weight-about 7 lbs-which puts her past the 100 lb mark. For this I am grateful. Hoping this continues; she could use another 10-15 lbs.
Did I mention the imp's taught the dogs to "sing" on command? Driving me nuts. Her friend Alli is here from Chicago. The 2 of them with their heads together is about as daunting as looking down the barrel of an AK47. No telling what mischief those 2 are brewing.
Sar thinks she can do pretty much what she's always done but her body doesn't always cooperate. She continues to tire easily. Naps aren't as frequent but she does rest often. We've had a bit of rain which makes her happy and keeps her calm. I hold her on my lap and watch the rain with her. She says I hold her so she doesn't go out in it. That's 1 reason. Holding her makes me happy.
Alli is encouraging the imp to write. I bought her a new laptop for just that purpose. We'll see. I've kept her up to date on the email she's received from you. Both of us appreciate your many good wishes for her recovery.
Cowboy
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Friends--
Cowboy here. I have been remiss in not letting you know why Sar hasn't updated this site the last couple of months. She's been hospitalized since early August - what started out as a minor bit of surgery turned into a major issue. All the details are a bit overwhelming; the bottom line is that she had scar tissue from previous surgeries in her intestinal tract that was partially blocking food passage. That problem was cleared up - Sar was recuperating and about to be released when her temp spiked. Bouts of intestinal distress followed.
Both kidneys shut down, other "abdomen" organs stopped functioning and as luck would have it, gall stones AND at least 1 kidney stone were the culprits. Stones were "passed" and stones were "stuck." It was touch & go for a while. The medics kept Sar sedated or semi-sedated to relieve pain. She was unaware of most of the treatments, surgeries etc. I brought her home a few days ago. She's very weak but healing well. When she is stronger and her insides are functioning at normal or near normal strength, she'll go back in and have her gall bladder removed.
It's been a stressful time for both of us. Our closest friends have been at her side along with me. We spent a great deal of time in consultation with the medics, wating outside the operating theatre and watching her breathe.
Many of you have sent her birthday greetings and email asking why she hasn't been around. I thank you on her behalf. It will be a while before she's up to replying. I'll try to post her progress more frequently. For now I'm grateful that she's home and on her way back to better health.
Cowboy
Both kidneys shut down, other "abdomen" organs stopped functioning and as luck would have it, gall stones AND at least 1 kidney stone were the culprits. Stones were "passed" and stones were "stuck." It was touch & go for a while. The medics kept Sar sedated or semi-sedated to relieve pain. She was unaware of most of the treatments, surgeries etc. I brought her home a few days ago. She's very weak but healing well. When she is stronger and her insides are functioning at normal or near normal strength, she'll go back in and have her gall bladder removed.
It's been a stressful time for both of us. Our closest friends have been at her side along with me. We spent a great deal of time in consultation with the medics, wating outside the operating theatre and watching her breathe.
Many of you have sent her birthday greetings and email asking why she hasn't been around. I thank you on her behalf. It will be a while before she's up to replying. I'll try to post her progress more frequently. For now I'm grateful that she's home and on her way back to better health.
Cowboy
Saturday, June 27, 2009
I'm Bad!
Cowboy says I'm genetically naughty. I think it's unfair to accuse me of naughty stuff; mischief just seems to be attracted to my willing personality... I think.
Have recently realized that Admirals do not actually retire from the Navy. My husband is not inclined to be one of those retired (read distinguished) officers who suddenly appear on a major news channel and opine on battles, war zones, and other commanding officers' plans for peace here, there and most everywhere. Instead, he allows the powers that be to consult with him privately. If I thought he had VOLUNTEERED... I'd do something downright awful - not mischievous, of course.
So... after leaving me to wander around the Carolinas, he flew to DC to have a private chat with some military mucky-muck about something that was on a "need to know" basis and I didn't need to know. Tsk. Have I ever mentioned that man's lack of couth?
He came home for a while - ate like he'd been starving. I guess peachy stuff cravings got to him.
"It's you, bambina. Mi manchi I missed you."
Yeah. He missed me so much, he left a few days later. I knew not to ask where he was headed but a helo plucked him from the yard. NO peaches for the squid until he's home again. Double tsk. From wherever he's going, he's returning to the Carolinas to look around some more.
When he called, he asked if I was eating.
Is there a weird moon out there? Of course, I'm eating. OLIVER is my favorite Broadway play. "Food! Glorious food!"
I ate Mac and cheese for breakfast - 5 boxes for me and the critters. I made homemade French vanilla extra creamy ice cream and ate that for lunch. I threw in a few blueberries to assuage my guilt then remembered I don't suffer guilt pains. Food pains, yes. Guilt pains, no. For supper I had a LARGE bag of potato chips and SweetPea, BullyBoy and Tank and I have been working on the squid's wine cellar. None of us are good wine drinkers but we give it a try. BullyBoy burps a lot. SweetPea passes out. I did, too. Woke up on Tank's bed with the beast's head on my chest. Thought a piece of furniture fell on top of me.
I'm thinking pasta primavera for breakfast tomorrow... with a little wine.
Bull came by this evening. He's back on active duty. He promised to cover me with a blanket if I passed out and if I cook something wonderful for him, he won't tell the Neanderthal I live with about the wine. Sometimes I think the marine is a few cans short of a six-pack. Cowboy will see the wine cellar isn't as full as it was when he left. Naturally, I'll accuse the pups of theft. He'll say something smart like "Who opened the bottles of wine for them?" I'll say something sassy like "the wine fairy?" He'll attempt a swat; I'll do something naughty. Tsk. I think life in our house is way too predictable. Help me out with an acceptable response, okay?
David called several times already to remind me not to be naughty. Honestly folks, is there a "mischief" pandemic going on. I'm as innocent as a babe and pure as the driven snow. No mischief around me. Well... maybe it's something in the wind. I mean... I don't even like wine. And I better check the chocolate stashes and make sure there's enough to last a while...
On a sad note, one of the beautiful Beluga whales at the zoo died recently. Depressing. I jumped in the pool one day to swim with them. Nobody at the zoo was happy about that but the people visiting the zoo encouraged me. I don't need a lot of encouragement to get into mischief. Oops! I won't tell you what the squid said... and did. About his stuffy old-man ways and his total lack of couth... if they sold it at Sear's AND JC Penny's, I'd buy out both inventories but I don't think that would be enough. He's very tall, bossy too.
Okey dokey, time to plop ice cream into a bowl of wine. I mean glass of wine, honest.
~Sar~
Have recently realized that Admirals do not actually retire from the Navy. My husband is not inclined to be one of those retired (read distinguished) officers who suddenly appear on a major news channel and opine on battles, war zones, and other commanding officers' plans for peace here, there and most everywhere. Instead, he allows the powers that be to consult with him privately. If I thought he had VOLUNTEERED... I'd do something downright awful - not mischievous, of course.
So... after leaving me to wander around the Carolinas, he flew to DC to have a private chat with some military mucky-muck about something that was on a "need to know" basis and I didn't need to know. Tsk. Have I ever mentioned that man's lack of couth?
He came home for a while - ate like he'd been starving. I guess peachy stuff cravings got to him.
"It's you, bambina. Mi manchi I missed you."
Yeah. He missed me so much, he left a few days later. I knew not to ask where he was headed but a helo plucked him from the yard. NO peaches for the squid until he's home again. Double tsk. From wherever he's going, he's returning to the Carolinas to look around some more.
When he called, he asked if I was eating.
Is there a weird moon out there? Of course, I'm eating. OLIVER is my favorite Broadway play. "Food! Glorious food!"
I ate Mac and cheese for breakfast - 5 boxes for me and the critters. I made homemade French vanilla extra creamy ice cream and ate that for lunch. I threw in a few blueberries to assuage my guilt then remembered I don't suffer guilt pains. Food pains, yes. Guilt pains, no. For supper I had a LARGE bag of potato chips and SweetPea, BullyBoy and Tank and I have been working on the squid's wine cellar. None of us are good wine drinkers but we give it a try. BullyBoy burps a lot. SweetPea passes out. I did, too. Woke up on Tank's bed with the beast's head on my chest. Thought a piece of furniture fell on top of me.
I'm thinking pasta primavera for breakfast tomorrow... with a little wine.
Bull came by this evening. He's back on active duty. He promised to cover me with a blanket if I passed out and if I cook something wonderful for him, he won't tell the Neanderthal I live with about the wine. Sometimes I think the marine is a few cans short of a six-pack. Cowboy will see the wine cellar isn't as full as it was when he left. Naturally, I'll accuse the pups of theft. He'll say something smart like "Who opened the bottles of wine for them?" I'll say something sassy like "the wine fairy?" He'll attempt a swat; I'll do something naughty. Tsk. I think life in our house is way too predictable. Help me out with an acceptable response, okay?
David called several times already to remind me not to be naughty. Honestly folks, is there a "mischief" pandemic going on. I'm as innocent as a babe and pure as the driven snow. No mischief around me. Well... maybe it's something in the wind. I mean... I don't even like wine. And I better check the chocolate stashes and make sure there's enough to last a while...
On a sad note, one of the beautiful Beluga whales at the zoo died recently. Depressing. I jumped in the pool one day to swim with them. Nobody at the zoo was happy about that but the people visiting the zoo encouraged me. I don't need a lot of encouragement to get into mischief. Oops! I won't tell you what the squid said... and did. About his stuffy old-man ways and his total lack of couth... if they sold it at Sear's AND JC Penny's, I'd buy out both inventories but I don't think that would be enough. He's very tall, bossy too.
Okey dokey, time to plop ice cream into a bowl of wine. I mean glass of wine, honest.
~Sar~
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