Me and Petfinder are BFFs right now. Except that we're actually more like frenemies, because I spend hours with it, but really, Petfinder DRIVES ME INSANE. There don't seem to be any sort of rules or regulations about what information people put out there about the animals. So while one listing will tell you that Riley is precisely two-and-three-quarters-years old and enjoys a nice chicken-smoked rawhide in the late afternoon after a cup of food at breakfast, a nice 47-minutes lunchtime walk (wherein he is a perfect gentleman on the leash) and an afternoon nap curled up in front of a...
I don't recall when it started, or who noticed it first, but the fact remains that our house is currently possessed. Oh, I guess I'm exaggerating. Not our entire house. Just our kitchen. Or maybe my office. Possibly the garage. OKAY, the entire first floor is suspect. But really, that's only half the house. So yes, half our house is currently possessed. Or just kind of... beepy. It's a sneaky beep. It doesn't happen at regular intervals, it doesn't seem. You'll just be puttering around in the kitchen, packing lunches or sneaking some of your kid's jelly beans (what?) and there's this faint,...
So I've been meaning to tell you that Otto and I met a Real Live Dog Whisperer here in town, but after umpty-hundred emails back and forth I've decided that she is not, in fact, done justice with the moniker Dog Whisperer. She is the Dog Emailer. (Though I do not think she actually emails WITH dogs.) (On the other hand, knowing what I know now about her, it would not entirely surprise me if she did.) (But that's not the dog I want, because I get grumpy when I have to share my computer.) ANYWAY. There was some sort of dog festival thing here a few weeks ago, back before we all got sick and we...
Last week chewed me up and spit me out and then sneered at me and told me my mother dresses me funny. Then it stole my lunch money and stomped on my fingers. The sad part is that I really didn't get the worst of the week; I'd say the men of our household had a significantly worse week than I did, even. In fact, some might say the only person who had a great week was Chickadee, except for the tiny detail of some of her choices having resulted in a few extra chores this past weekend. And although it cheered ME up immensely to watch her mop the kitchen floor, I'm guessing that wasn't her...
Today was a giant work day for all of us; the kids and I dug out their rooms and their closets, while Otto did manly things like replace a faucet and put holes in the walls where we've had things just propped against the wall "to be hung" for months on end. Monkey made up a little "Spring cleaning in the FAAAAAALLLLLL!" song that he kept singing at me to make me laugh, and Chickadee did a lot of complaining about how it wasn't her fault her room was a mess and she didn't realize that I meant the WHOLE closet and such, and the end result was lots of stuff got done and rooms ended up clean and...
Two weeks ago today, Otto and I brought home the big black dog with the pretty eyes who proceeded to slip out of our yard hours later. He hung around our neighborhood, evading capture, for about a week. It has now been another week since I've seen him, and about five days since anyone else told me they saw him, either. The live trap we borrowed from Animal Control is languishing outside, full of every possible goody a normal dog could want---dry food, wet food, rib bones, pork cutlets, and chicken breast. (Technically we rotated through most of those. It's not like there's just a giant cage...
I grew up in a pretty small town, and the good thing about small towns is that you pretty much know everyone. Of course, the bad thing about small towns is that... you pretty much know everyone. I was not what you might refer to as a well-adjusted child. I mean, it wasn't anything that ten or twenty years and thousands of dollars of therapy couldn't fix, but still. Most of my childhood memories are not happy ones. Most of my school day memories are filled with cringe-worthy recollections of not being pretty enough, cool enough, confident enough, ENOUGH enough. I ended up graduating early and...
So, um, today is my birthday. I think I'm having a midlife crisis, except that instead of running out to buy a sports car I cried all over Otto a couple of nights ago about how it's just SO STUPID to be upset over all of these little things which I am really quite upset over. The cry was good; I sort of got it out of my system, and in then the next day I scrubbed some bathtubs and did five loads of laundry and everything seemed better. So far today my Facebook friends gave me lots of lovely wall comments. My parents sent me funny cards. Kira mailed me gluten-free blondies that are out of...
I have been so busy dealing with school and kids and STUFF that I completely forgot to tell you that I'm now on my third type of contact lenses. Because I'm a slow learner. No, actually, I think these current lenses might be working out okay. We'll see. But I am still completely mystified as to why it's so important to me that I figure out a way to stick something on my eyeballs rather than just wear my damn glasses. I mean, I do enjoy an unfettered face and clear vision, but really, at this point I sort of feel like cold fusion is more likely than a corrective lens I can wear for longer...
