Cheap Pets and Expensive Linens

The no-so-bright dog I speak of sometimes is a pound puppy. She's a good dog, but is not very bright. But what should I expect from a very cheap pet, right? Given her lack of intelligent life up top, we often refer to her by her acronym name: U-WODD, which stands for Useless Waste Of Dog DNA.

Well, this not-so-bright one pulled a very not-so-bright stunt last week. She ate one of my favorite dish towels. Red is my favorite color so I'm sure that's why she chose that particular one to ingest.

As you can imagine, dish towels are not very digestible. Especially when, it seems, you chase them with some rubber bands. It can make a nasty mess in the intestinal tract of an animal. So after multiple x-rays, several medications, a barium series, and finally a nice abdominal surgery followed by several days in the hospital we have our not-so-bright but cheap pet back. She's recovering nicely, but that's turned out to be one very expensive dish towel that I'll never use again!

Parting Ways

How do you know when it's time? When to say it's the final curtain call? When to end it gracefully, before anyone gets hurt? When to close the door and just walk away?

This has been on my mind for a while. I'm still not ready to throw in the towel, but I've come to realize the messages are becoming clearer.

Yes, it's been a long and tumultuous ride. There have been good times and bad times, and even scary times. But last night it really reached a pinnacle. I fear the end of the road is near. But how do you really know?

When the trust is no longer there? When you're not comfortable any longer? When it becomes more about the journey and less about the destination?

Truth be told, I've changed. I'm not the same person I was ten years ago. I'm not the same person I was five years ago. When it comes right down to it, I'm just not a mini van kinda gal any longer. I'm not sure I ever was one. And I think it's coming time to move on.



My trust is diminishing. My fears that I'll be left high and dry are increasing. I'm losing my confidence in it's ability to provide for my needs. And the subtle messages are frightening.

While experience has taught me (unfortunately many times over) that there are alternative means for stopping, I still prefer brakes. Overwhelmingly I prefer brakes.



This message has become more frequent in recent years. I'm about out of services to offer it.

I think it may be time to...**gasp**...car shop. If you know me, you probably know I have a strong dislike for shopping. I guess I'm not a stereotypical female in that way. I'd much prefer swinging in the park, walking through the woods, camping by a lake, or reading a good book. You can even add dental work to the list of things I prefer over shopping.

And if you know me you may also know I'm a shrewd negotiator when buying vehicles. There have been instances through the years when D probably prefers the serene comfort of a combine harvester over sitting next to me at a car salesman's desk.

I guess I'll have to be biting the bullet soon and moving on...closing the door on the van before it breaks down and we get hurt. And I promise I'll try to be nice to the car salesmen. In fact, I'll even try to approach it with a better attitude. I'll call it a "car negotiating challenge" instead of the much dreaded shopping word. That should help.

Priorities

Yesterday afternoon there was a slight knock at the door. The boys rush to it asking, "Is it Daddy; is Daddy home from work?"

I smile and gaze out of the window. "Even better," I say. "It's FedEx with my new shipment of coffee."



Well hello there, Sunshine. What will you be assisting me with today?

I spent a little time this morning getting acquainted with the new delivery and thinking over life's pressing questions. Questions such as why my kids think D knocks on the door instead of uses his key to get in. I must admit it has me befuddled, in a caffeine-hyped way.

And in case you are concerned, there are more cases of coffee in the pantry. I've experienced running out before and it's not pretty.

A New Yardstick for Bad Days

Someone comes up to me today and tells me she's been enjoying reading my blog. Mmmm, say it a little more slowly, please. Bllllloooooggggg, you say? I'm not sure what you mean. Oh wait, I have a niggling little recollection of something called a blog. On a side note, is that not one of the funniest words, niggling? You've got to love a word that rhymes with giggling, wiggling, and jiggling. I laugh every time I write, read, or say "niggling." Which thankfully is not often seeing it's quite hard to work the word into casual conversation. If I did, and laughed every time I said it, people may think I'm weird. Okay, weird-er.

So back to the blog thing. I figured I'd better revisit all those lonely, forlorn ones and zeros I've created somewhere in cyberspace. Here I am and I'll catch you up on some of the better points of the last few months. I'll start with a story about my friend.

I have a friend, a childhood friend from so long ago that some of my earliest memories have her in it somewhere. If a memory doesn't have her in it it's probably because one of us was punished from playing together. As a sickly little child in and out of hospitals, I recall many times thinking how I must get better so I can go home and play before she wears out all the new toys she's probably getting. I was so very shallow back then. I'm much different now, you know.

My family moved, then her family moved and we lost touch. We saw one another a time or two in high school, but never were able to spend time together again. Fast forward to last summer, when I attended the orientation meeting for our homeschool group. What a surprise to see her after all these years! We have a lot in common again, and I enjoy her company very much.

We decided to take our punks (okay, my punks and her darling children) to the corn maze one day during the fall. D had never had the chance to meet her and he got to tag along with us. My poor friend had one of my kind of days and encountered one obstacle after another getting to the corn maze. Finally she got there and was feeling much relieved, as evidenced on her face. She began to relax after a harrowing morning.

We took the kids to the animal encounter area where they get to pet and feed animals, then watch a pig race.

The pig race. Not just any ol' pig race, mind you. It was a Special pig race where each pig had a kid chosen out of the audience to cheer him or her on. If the pig won, the kid got a prize. After a few of these races, the grand finale was announced. My friend's son was chosen to cheer the pig, but since this was the last race, it was the bestest one. The cheering kids got to bring an adult with them to help out. They had to cheer loudest of all in the final race, and as an incentive the losing parent had to kiss the losing pig. Oh my!! My friend and her son so diligently cheered but luck was not on their side that day. I saw the stress returning to her face.



Oh boy did the stress of the morning return to accompany the stress of losing the race.

But she did it!! And without a meltdown even. However, she only proceeded once she was assured the pig was cleared from having the swine flu. Personally, I'd have asked for a doctor's note. But that's just me. She's a stronger person.

I could only get one shot, since she wasn't very happy with the event and didn't try to make it last for my photographing pleasure. But as you can see in this closely cropped version she did kiss the pig. Sort of.

Now as part of my daily drama and tongue-in-cheek bad days, I have a new yardstick by which to measure. If someone asks how my day has been, I've been known to say "It could have been worse. At least I didn't have to kiss any pigs!"