Memories

With a road trip on the horizon, and a virus on the PC, I am enjoying the pictures that are stored away on the laptop from my big trip with S2.

Two of my favorites (taken through the window, so quality isn't great)



G2

hmmmmmmmmmm

(Thanks, Mark, for helping make the file accessible.)

Anyone smelling puppy breath in the future??

G2

Crazy, freaked out, silliness

and a wee bit of sadness.

Last night after a nice wander around the park to see Christmas lights and then dinner, I came home to computer problems. Instead of messing with it I decided to watch some TV and furminate the two shedding dogs. I then wrapped a few more presents and headed to the warmth of my bed, still looking for something on the television. I found a show titled "Modern Family," and settled in. In minutes I had one dog sleeping at my side. I had one dog who had crawled under the bed with just a nubby tail showing. The third dog settled at my head, panting and shaking. What the heck was going on?? Suddenly there was movement under the bed. Henry came out like a bullet and clawed his way onto the bed and tried to dig his way under Nugget, and under the covers. Kate was now panting, shaking, and drooling on my head. I put on my leg and went to the door to see if I could see anything. Nope. All is secure in the house, but now I am not only perplexed by their reactions but getting a bit nervous myself. My bed is actually vibrating from the shaking doggies. Nugget, however, is calmly resting as if nothing is happening. Again, what the heck?!

Then, just as I get the glazed look out of the dogs' eyes it happens. Frantically Kate looks at me as if to tell me I had deceived her. Henry wants to become one with the middle of the box spring, through my mattress. I have to laugh at the silliness of it all. Then I changed the channel. If any one out there watches "Modern Family" I would love to know if the guy ever found the beeping smoke detector...



Within minutes peace was restored to the house.

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On this Christmas eve eve I would like to take a minute to wish a great holiday season to all. My thoughts are with all my friends and family that are missing loved ones or dealing with health problems. It is a tough time of year for so many.

I look forward to many new experiences in the days and months ahead and wish the same for all. Life is such an adventure, isn't it? I intend to do my best to enjoy each and every minute of it.

Hey, lady. Is that a tomato in your ear?


G2

Road Trip

The last week of January. Nugget wants temperatures over 37 in the morning.

So in keeping with my oh so important "crazy dog lady" title we are heading to Southern California.

Details to follow, but I will say that we will be riding/driving in luxury; although I am not sure we will notice as we are driving straight through...

Crazy? Absolutely. It will be a blast!!

Watch out SoCal, the butter babies are heading your way.

G2

That time of year

Normal

(as is possible, living in this house!)



Kate. Following the whole tail wagging thing a few weeks back, seems to have finally decided to settle in and just be a dog. I sometimes think there is something wrong with her and go in search. Since I brought her home, she has not left my side. Literally. She wanted to be no farther than about ten feet. Certainly within eye shot. Whenever I left she would destroy things in the house if not crated. She had her obsessive things she did; the licking of inanimate objects, the staring at nothing. Most of those went away after the pup came home; just showing in times of severe stress.

I went away for three days and boarded Kate and Henry. It was the second time I had left her at this same place. When I picked her up she was happy to see me and greeted me, then headed up the stairs to see what the six year old was doing. I put the dogs in the back of the truck as they were wet and muddy. She was delighted to be home, and happy to see Nugget, and happy to see the horse. Just smiley. Then she came in the house and had a drink of water and settled in like it was just another day. No tripping over her as I moved about the house. No frantic whines as I unloaded the truck. It was a bit weird. We are talking Kate! Then she disappeared. I was on the computer and I couldn't find her anywhere near. She had decided it was bedtime and went to bed. (Sadly, that would be on my pillow, where I soon discovered how truly muddy she and Henry were. Needless to say when I got to bed it was with three clean dogs; two of them a bit damp.)


I can leave to do little trips to town now, and not crate the dogs. No trouble. Nothing destroyed. I won't do it for hours at a time, but that would be more because I have a pup in the house, and because I think they need to be comfortable hanging out in their crates.

So, the count is now TWO relatively normal dogs and one psycho dog. Henry, however, is not destructive and I know his buttons so can avoid them.

The tailed ones are definitely my breed. What truly amazing, and cool dogs they are.

So it is on to hips and eye testing for the girl. The future may be interesting...


G2

Tomorrow is another day

Tomorrow the pup and I will head out for the Ridgefield shows. The details of the whens and hows and wheres are still a bit sketchy, but it is the end result that matters, right?

My favorite show dog color? Purple. Nugg-pup's favorite color? Brown. As in mud brown. Everything is flooded around here and that just makes the Nugget boy even happier. Does he not understand that he is supposed to be cool, calm, collected and beee-you-tea-full? His white is brownish, his black the same. But the smile on his face is priceless. For this reason I always put off his bath for an extra day and get to pay for it. If he gets a couple of days for the coat to settle and shine up, then he looks so much nicer, but I just cannot deny a puppy his FRAP. So in another hour he will get one last romp in the mud and then it is bath time.




All arrangements have been made for the care of the other two dogs and for the feeding of the horse. The lists are made and the packing has begun. (Well, in all honesty, I never completely unpacked the truck from the last shows. It just made more sense to leave some of it, namely my show coats, out hanging in the truck.) I'm excited about this one. It will be fun.

Once back, the tree that is sitting in a bucket by the carport will take its spot of honor by the front window. I've been collecting strings of LED lights whenever I see them for a decent price, so will be pitching all of the old strings this year. I have boxes of them. All those that were guaranteed to stay lit, that didn't. Why do I not pitch them when they go out? I really don't know for sure, but think I will blame Dad for this one. After all, he was the one that made us carefully collect the tinsel back off the tree after Christmas. It was then laid out straight and carefully folded into paper for the next year. I swear some of those strands were only about two inches long, but we still had to carefully place them (No throwing!) and re-collect them each year. No plastic back then, it was a thick foil, I believe. Then again, it could have been lead based, hard to say...

I received a beautiful ornament today as a gift from a friend. It will get to go on the tree first as it will need to be in the perfect spot under the perfect light. Yep, I guess I did get a wee bit of Dad's precision, when it comes to the tree. That's about it, however. Dad had his Christmas decorating traditions. They included painting the front window each year, and setting up spotlights outside to show off his work. It was always based on a Christmas card that we had received the year before. I think we must have learned VERY early on that we were to keep our fingers away from the painted windows. I don't recall any of the four of us kids ever etching our initials into the paint. Dad had a box that was filled with his window paint. It was just always there. Then Mom had her places for each decoration that she had gathered over the years. The egg carton tree and macaroni wreath hung with such pride one would think they were made of gold. And those awful fuzzy wreaths! A green one and a white one. Each item took its spot each year. Always the same. Only the design on the window changed. When Dad sold the house he included the Christmas lights that were hung under the eaves each year. I doubt they were ever used again, but I suppose it is possible. He was so proud to give them to the new owner. I sure do miss him, and Mom too. The little irritating things from back then are so endearing now. It's funny how that happens.

Off I go to run the dogs in a break between rain squalls. Then it is back to reality...wait, is dog showing reality????

G2

Discovery, and back on the leash

The other morning I went out, as I always do, to take the dogs to their equine buddy. Three little tri-colored stubby dogs, tongues flapping with happiness as they run to the barn. This day, however, they didn't stop at the gate, but ran around the barn and down the outside of the fence line. When they stopped they refused to even acknowledge that I was calling them. All three. Rather than wade through the leaves and weeds, I went into the field to get a glimpse at what they were looking at. All the time I am saying, under my breath, "Nugget still hasn't tried to roll in it, so it must not be dead." Wrong! Without studying it too much as I was instantly bellowing the dogs' least favorite phrase "LEAVE IT!," I am going to guess it was a cat's head, sans skin. I ended up grabbing some baling twine and running back to grab the two older, and least cooperative, and leash them and bring them into the field. Of course I could not get them away from the section of fence that was closest to this wonderful prize they had discovered, so did my chores and re-roped the older dogs and led them back to the house. It was too early in the morning to go out and examine this mass of pink and white yuk, so I made a note to check it out after I was a bit more awake and my stomach a bit more settled. It was somewhat round in shape and a bit bigger than a tennis ball, but smaller than a soft ball. We have eagles nesting around us, as well as coyotes, and owls. Any of them could have done the deed. There was a LOT of bird poo in that area of the field, so I was leaning toward eagle or owl. When I went out later the thing was gone, but there were a lot of small bird bits and pieces that I likely had not noticed before. Did I think to look up? Of course not. I haven't even done it yet today, but will on the next trip out. I suspect there is a nest very close by, as this morning when I went out there were a pair of eagles flying directly over us as we approached the barn. They were screaming, and I was a bit freaked about my dogs, even though the smallest is close to thirty pounds. (One never knows if a near sighted eagle night make an attempt, and I can only imagine the damage that can be done by those talons!) Nugget is incredibly obedient and was the only one off leash, so I called him to me and he stuck there like glue. The crazy dog lady of Kingston, was yelling up into the air and raising her fist at these two eagles circling overhead. They must have gotten the message as they quickly flew off; perhaps on to their next hunting expedition.

So the dogs are back on leash when we go out to do chores. Most of the time I really enjoy seeing the eagles; they really are stunning to see with their blue black backs and the bright white heads and tails. Some days, however, I would just rather they stayed down at the tide flats and fished.

Welcome to my world...ewwwwwwww

G2

Inspired

by a few folks who have made some dietary changes, (and they know who they are) I decided it was time to bite the bullet and go back to Weight Watcher's meetings. (Don't get me wrong, I rather enjoy the meetings, I just couldn't handle the idea of being weighed.)

I had been quite successful with WW a few years ago, losing around 60 pounds. Then I had a relapse with my disease and my eating habits went down the tubes. So I regained 2/3 of what I lost. I needed to be held more accountable than I was on my own. There is also the part of me that feels that if I am paying for something, then I need to get something in return. I know, weird head games, but so it goes.

I am pretty excited about upcoming training and being able to do more as I will be carting less.

I am also excited about the new program that WW has started. I am actually not hungry, and I am not sucking down the celery and salsa. Now if I can just wrap my head around the fact that this is all new and the old points are rubbish, I will be a bit less stressed. However, seeing those numbers on the scale going down definitely eases the stress!

So I am back to eating a good breakfast when I get up. I think that is the key for me.

Time will tell.

G2

Passages

Many, many years ago my sister introduced me to a man that mentored her in the horse driving world. He was a slightly built Scottish man, and an "old school" veterinarian. Besides his beloved Jersey cows, or perhaps BESIDE his beloved Jersey cows, were a number of Clydesdale horses that he farmed with. It was not unusual to drive down the highway and see him and a team out working the fields. The horses dwarfed the man, yet were as gentle as kittens. He was so proud of all that he did with them. I remember going to the Monroe fairgrounds to the Draft Horse Extravaganza to watch my sister drive his horses in the show. They were polished to a beautiful sheen, as were his huge harnesses. I still can hear the sound of the massive feet on the pavement as they were led from the barn.

At the age of 88 years, Doc Mustard passed away. I tried to pull up the article and it is "subscription only" so I cannot access it. 'Tis a bit frustrating, as I read all the newspapers online, but perhaps this small town has lost too much money because of folks like me so have locked it down. At any rate, it is with much sadness that I hear this, as he lost his farm to a family member a few years back so no longer had his roots firmly planted in the soil that he and his team worked for many years. I cannot imagine that the eviction helped his "will to live." But rather than fall prey to that anger, I prefer instead to remember his stories as we sat around the kitchen table. The volunteer fire department in Brady and the calls that he went on. The smells of the big barn and the hogs, horses, and cows that made their homes there. His tough wiry body and heavily calloused hands. His very Scottish "way." They don't make them like him any longer. He was the James Herriot of Washington state.

Godspeed Don Mustard. I smile when I think of all the critters that met him at the bridge to escort him to his final destination.

G2

One of those AHA moments...

It wasn't me...



Nor me


Guilty as charged!


I was out scooping yesterday morning and found something suspicious that had been in Henry at one point...if you get my very disgusting drift.

While it looked quite familiar, I could not place the origin of it until tonight. Now I can rest a bit easier. However, there is the question of where, or in whom, the other might be...





I did a toy box check and anything that was the least big ragged is now gone.

There is only room for one amputee in this house, and that would be me!

G2

Just because

Dear Santa,

A new lens and flash would really be appreciated.

Love,

G2