Memorial Day . . .

30 May

. . . is not about used car sales.

The Sad Tale of Golly and the Bumbershoot

13 May

It poured rain all day yesterday. Sheets of rain, and then it would rain ever HARDER. Golly absolutely refused to step foot off the carport, wandering listlessly from one side to the other. I couldn’t convince the poor puppy that it was actually raining on all three sides. He obviously had to “go”, as he was farting like a tea kettle, but he flat out would NOT step out into the yard.

The Squire opened the van and grabbed an umbrella, which I opened. Golly immediately leapt into the back of the van and refused to come out, not even with treats. I finally had to close the umbrella, just to get him out of the vehicle. I took hold of his leash, dragged him out into the yard, and raised the umbrella again.

The fool dog jumped up and grabbed the umbrella, trying to pull it down and destroy it! I’m five-six, and obviously had the umbrella above my head, so this was a pretty good leap.

We completed our perambulations without the bumbershoot.

Golly, Oh Golly!

22 Apr

This is Golly’s official portrait, taken just before we left the Humane Society. Probably the last time the dear critter sat nicely and smiled for the camera.

So far, he has pulled his run out of the tree, and totally destroyed not only four tennis balls, but managed to yank on his collar hard enough to break the clasp. And took down the clothesline in the process.

And then came inside and chewed up The Squire’s nook.

I was walking Golly around the pond last night and he tried to follow a frog into the water. Mud up to his knees! Where Blazer hated the water, Golly enjoys it.

The Squire went down and bought him a new collar this morning, and I got him another tug-of-war toy. It should come as no surprise that he totally destroyed the first one we bought him.

Oh, Golly, what are we going to do with you?

We Have a Dog!

2 Apr

After casually remarking quite a few times that “I’d really like to have a dog”, The Squire finally told me Saturday morning that we were going to the Humane Society to get one.

We went up and looked at quite a few senior dogs. We’re too old to take on a puppy, with all that entails, and older dogs are sometimes harder to place. A win-win situation. After “interviewing” three we decided on a 7-year-old pit-mix. His previous owner had called him Goliath, but we call him Golly, which seems to be very appropriate. He is a little smaller than Blazer – 70 pounds, opposed to 90 – (35 k, vs 45k) – but he is the same color and has the same smile. Golly is the third pit-mix we’ve had, and we’ve adored them all, from my beloved Brinks to Blazer and now this goofball.

He knows a few basic commands – come, sit, down – and is semi-housebroken. He’s really good about going outside to water the bushes, but we’re having some trouble with the rest of it. He also seems to think he is a lapdog, and we’re trying to dissuade him of that misconception! He walks well on a leash, but doesn’t understand it’s pointless to try to catch squirrels. He is tall enough the reach the counters and the table, and THAT won’t do at all, although we don’t mind him standing up to look out the kitchen door. We locked him in the kitchen with his bed last night and I honestly expected to come down to find the trashcan emptied and things generally in an uproar, but there wasn’t a bit of mess. He also behaved beautifully while we went to church. It has taken him 24 hours to become a confirmed Mama’s Boy!

And he is a chowhound of the first order. My! Can that boy eat! He got himself into some serious trouble this afternoon when he grabbed a fresh loaf of bread off the counter in the split second it took me to reach for the knife. He and I had quite a discussion about that trick.

It will probably take a week or more for him to get used to this house and our routine, but I think it’s all going to be OK.

Upsy- Daisy!

25 Feb

The Squire has been working on that fallen pine tree off and on, in between rainstorms, cutting the trunk and larger branches into stove lengths, while it laid on its side, sprawled across the lawn.

When we came home from the store the other day, we discovered the silly stump had set itself upright. Apparently, the weight of the roots had balanced out the remaining trunk, and the tree had flipped itself back into position.

I really wish we had seen it happen!

A Day Late, and a Dollar Short

28 Jan

For quite a while the people in my office have been wearing purple on Fridays, in honor of the Ravens. Apparently, this is a big Baltimore tradition. I don’t particularly follow football – I’m a baseball sort of girl – but yesterday morning I dragged out my one and only purple garment, a dress I bought to wear to my sister’s funeral in 2010.

I was the only one who wore purple to the office,

When I asked about this, I was informed that the season is over. “But you did try. Better luck next year.”

As I said, I don’t follow football. I don’t anything orange, so we’ll have to see what happens when the Orioles play.

Please Pay At-tent-ion

22 Jan

When I raised the curtain this morning and peered through the rain and mist, I thought somebody – somehow – had pitched a tent in the front yard last night. It took a few moments for the fog to clear, and I realized a tree had fallen over.

Poor Jim had to go out and cut out the top before church. People were simply driving through the tree without slowing down or even trying to swerve around it. He collected two pieces of plastic – what looks to be the back of a mirror, and part of a bumper. I swear, common sense seems to be nonexistent.

This doesn’t answer the question about a tree falling in the forest, because it fell across the road.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

2 Jan

Without his hearing aids – which is most of the time – The Squire is as deaf as the proverbial post. A few days ago, he went out to feed the birds without noticing I had not turned off the alarm. Loud enough to disturb people a mile away, and he’s totally oblivious. This morning I put something in the oven and set the timer beside him while I got dressed for work. When I came downstairs, the timer had gone off five minutes ago and was still beeping, to no avail.

I have suggested to him that he treat those hearing aids the way he used to treat his glasses. First thing in the morning, after he’s washed his face, put them in his ears! I just don’t understand. People are willing to wear glasses, which sit on the front of their head for all the world to see, but refuse to wear hearing aids, which hide in your ears, and nobody needs to know about.


Come on-a My House

23 Dec

Eldest Daughter came up from Charleston on a flying visit to exchange Christmas gifts, so we decided to meet at the local Waffle House. I don’t know where they recruit their short order cooks, but the fellow who was flipping eggs the other day was a HUNK.

Narrow hips, broad shoulders, and he certainly didn’t get those biceps pouring pancake batter! Oh, my.

He can come cook in my kitchen any time his little heart desires. Even The Squire could understand the appeal, while The Kid and I drooled all over the tabletop.

GOP Jesus

20 Dec

A friend of mine posted this link, and it is soooo true!