more retro photo: 1980s (with pillow encore)

Remember this post when I showed you a retro 1970s photo of me and my parents? You remember, the curtains, the white socks and black shoes, the ‘stache? It looked something like this, only awesomer:

Well, I ran across this baby the other day, so I thought I would share. It’s the 1980s version of almost the exact pose from the photo in the 1970s post. WHAT LUCK.

Behold:

Where to begin? Well, first off – my dad managed to lose the mustache but gained that handsome orange suede number. I’m sure that was the height of fashion back in the day. I’m almost in awe of it. I mean it has stitching detail and matching pants! Have you ever seen such greatness in a mere garment?

This is a terrible picture of my mom. She was going through her “chubby phase.” This photo was also a little bent, too, so it looks all funky. And she got partly cut off. Still, she looked great in the 1970s photo, so I’ll give her a pass.

I know you’ve all noticed the tiara on my sweet little head. If you haven’t, notice it. A year before this I won a beauty pageant and this was the night I had to crown a new winner. You can’t see the detail but my mom made that suit I’m wearing. She’s handy with a sewing machine.

Sidebar: Incidentally, the year before this when I won I was four. You had to be five to enter but somehow that managed to slip past everyone, including my mom. It was my first pageant and my mom just wanted me to have the experience so I wouldn’t be shy. It worked. When I went to except my crown I waved to the crowd, blew kisses and did a little dance. What? I was four. People were clapping and calling my name. What’s a kid to do but dance and sing? Yeah, I may have sang a little, too. End sidebar.

This photo was taken in exactly the same spot as the 70s one except now the black leather sofa is gone and has been replaced with that snazzy bold floral patterned one. Perfect. At least the crazy curtains got changed to the plain white ones. My grandmother was keeping up with the times. Although…if you look behind my dad’s left elbow you’ll see them….THE STRIPED PILLOWS from the last photo. I told you those things hung around for years.

Why are all of the family portrait snapshots always taken on my grandmother’s sofa? No idea. That’s just how we rolled.

By the way, am I the only person left who thinks pageants aren’t the end of life as we know it? I was in them all the time and I LOVED it. It was just a fun time to dress up. Plus we didn’t have to twirl a baton or sing and they didn’t ask us about how we’d achieve world peace. Just fun. Am I living in a rose-colored bubble? Would you/do you let your kids be in one of these? Or has the age of these being innocent passed? Did you ever enter them?

Come on….tell me everything. No one will ever know.

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not a snob, just a (temporary) slob

Ever had one of those weeks were you feel like you’ve just been hit by a bus? Repeatedly? Well for me this week’s bus is my blog. It has run over me mercilessly, time after time. Not sure why but I feel very owned by my little piece of bloggy heaven. I think I’ll take the weekend off and spend time with the Bear, Phoenix and Jess, put my feet up and relax. You know, because my life is so hard.

I’ll be back before you know it. No really before you know it for some of you because if you’re like me it takes you a week to get around to all the fun blogs you follow. I think next week I’ll have light blogging week. Well, I have to give you a chance to miss me sometimes, don’t I?

I do a few memes each week* and I love them. It’s so much fun. But I think I’m going to have a week of just posting random things without any memes. Gotta give you a chance to miss me. Oh, I said that already? Maybe I’m just hoping you miss me a little. Or a lot. Or at all.

::Sidebar:: *For those of you who don't have blogs, a meme is when a blogger has a good idea for a post, shares it, people write about it on their own blog and everyone gets together to read each other's take on the theme.  Okay, that's like the worst explaination of a meme in history, but you get the idea. I feel sure that someone will give a much better definition in the comments. ::End sidebar::

So, if I seem missing in action, I am. Sort of. I promise to make it up to you by catching up with everyone once I’ve spent some time with the family. And doing a bit more spring cleaning, trying a few recipes and teaching my dog not to maul people as soon as they walk in the door. I’ll still be posting stuff now and then, just not as much. I think. If I can stay away.

Must. Blog. Less. Forawholeweek. Promised the Bear.

Anyway, I’ll sneak away now and then because I’ll be desperate to make contact with my friends who live in my computer to keep you posted about my leisurely week. Even if it involves me telling you such interesting and intriguing tales as how many crumbs had to accumulate in my lap before I removed myself from the sofa and how tall the pile of laundry currently stands.

(Remind me of this when I’ve posted twice a day next week because just the idea of separation anxiety has completely consumed me. Okay? Good.)

Meanwhile, if you have a sec visit my poor lonely poll over on the left hand side. I’m curious to see what you think. Pwetty pweeeease? Tank ooo.

Baby talk not doing it for ya?

Tough crowd.

Okay, then. How about if I show you this picture of some fluffy little cygnets I took the other day?

If you take the poll you’ll make the cygnets happy. If you don’t they’ll DIE.

What? You’re the ones playing hardball.

slides, skipping and smiles

Last week we skipped to the park.  Yep, out in public and everything.  It was great!  They had a slide so the Bear took Phoenix for a quick test of the park equipment.  Purely for the safety of the children of course.  And not at all because he wanted to slide down with a poodle under his arm.  Because that wouldn't be macho. 

You know how it is.  All for others.

Just look at that smile.  Presh-US.

A Bear and his tiny dog.  It's almost too much. 

WEEEEEEEEEEEE!

time outs and time warps

No, I’m not going to sing a song from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Now stop asking.

Anyway, it’s time for the Writer’s Workshop installment for the week. I chose two prompts because I couldn’t resist. Normally I can resist anything except temptation but I gave in to the sweet alluring pull of both prompts. Sue me. Don’t really sue me, though, because I need the $20 I have to my name.

I’ll be really impressed if anyone can tell me who I was quoting in that last paragraph.

Anyway, enough shenanigans. On to the prompts. I chose these.

3.) Who are you giving a timeout to?

4.) What do you dream about? Explain a dream you've had recently without using the words 'I' or 'me' or 'drunk as all get up".

3.) Number three is easy. I’m giving a time out to all the people who have blogs with word verification that tries to trick me. Speaking of shenanigans, I think that a lot of people miss my comments on their blogs because of word verification. I don’t really mind the thing itself but it’s different on each blog. The ones where you can see it before you submit your comment are okay because I know that I won’t forget. But sometimes you submit your comment then it shows up. If the page automatically takes you back to your comment and you can see it on the screen without having to scroll down, I’m still okay.

It’s the sites that let you comment, expect you to verify a word and takes you back to the TOP of the page that lose me. I think “okay, I’m done” and I move on, without completing the process. I've got the attention span of a fruit fly - negative three seconds. Next thing you know I’m gone and NO COMMENT FOR YOU. It’s happened more than you would think. I can’t be the only one. So if you have one of those sites I probably comment on your blog more than you actually see. You’re missing out on some comment-y goodness. Time out in the corner.

4.) (except I’m breaking the rules and using “I” and “me.” I have problems with authority. What can I say?) I had a dream a few nights ago in which my piano teacher had a totally different personality. Being the sweet clean-cut quiet British gentleman he is, I was surprised when he showed up in my dream sporting long hair, surf wear, sandals and a chatty streak. In real life he’s all business (except when I get off on a giggling tangent about how he calls decrescendo marks “hairpins” and he just laughs at me because I’m a complete idiot) and in the dream he was all, “Yeah. Like, let’s have your lesson on the beach today.” Um, what? We’re in inland England. And I bet that grand piano is heavy. And why do I feel like it’s 1991? “It’s fine,” he assures me, “We’ll just put it in the back of this truck.” Okay then, laid back surfer dude stranger. I’m with you.

Keep in mind this is a man who asks a question with the word “indeed.”

Piano teacher: “Don’t forget.”
Me: “I will definitely NOT forget.”
Piano teacher: “Indeed?”
Me. “Indeed.”

If he ever said the words, “Dude. That rocks.” I’d probably come apart at the seams due to the violent convulsions caused by my uncontrolled laughter snicker a little.

So my lesson was actually in the back of the truck on the way to the beach. Awesome. And I’m pretty sure he was drunk as all get up. Not really, but I wanted to use that forbidden phrase, too. He was sober, even in the dream. That’s pretty true to life, though, so not interesting enough for the blog. Although, come to think of it, I only see him for several minutes a week so he could be in a drunken stupor the rest of the time and I’d have no idea.

Nah. Not sweet clean-cut quiet British gentleman non-surfer short-haired piano teacher guy.

{Meerufenfushi Island, Maldives}

Afterthoughts: Sometimes after reading the comments on a post I think, "Ah. Yeah.  I didn't think of that."  I love that.  I thought that about this one.  By the way, how wonderful are you guys?  Very.  That's how much.

First of all, great point Dan - You have reminded me of the "Close your eyes and think of England."  Yeah.  That's not what I meant, though.  I remember one of my high school history teachers telling us about this.  It stuck with me.  I used to say it all the time when encouraging people to do things they didn't want to do but had to anyway.  Lovely bit of history.  Lovely.  (If you've never heard that phrase just Google it, lest I make this another of my epic posts explaining it.)

Well done to Jud, it's Oscar Wilde.  Funny guy.  Odd, though, since I don't like funny at all.  What's that?  Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit? 

Alas, Jenny, my guess is that piano teacher surfer dude would probably rather remove his own appendix than have me plaster pictures of him all over my blog.  I can try to sneak my giant Nikon D40X into a lesson and get some secret shots but my direction of where he should stand and look might give it away.  Nothing gets past him.  NOTHING.

To Buckeroomama - the photo is on Meerufenfushi island in the Maldives, aka the best spot on planet Earth.  The Bear and I went there last year and it was heaven. 

Everyone else, thank you for the word verification support.  I don't think anyone on the list has it on, though, so I'm preachin' to the choir it seems.  Well, at least I got to vent. 

Great.  Now I've gone and made this another long post.  See what you made me do???

a few things I forgot

I procrastinate like a champ. I could procrastinate for England.* I mean no one could out do me on reasons not to do something. I’ve studied it to a point as sharp as the edge of a razor blade. Have I emphasized that enough? Yes?

::Major sidebar alert:: *I sometimes hear the Bear say you can do something “for England,” meaning you can do it well. Like, “he could sleep for England,” meaning that he sleeps a lot. Our cat can meow for England. England would be proud to have our cat represent it in a meowing contest of some sort because she’d do it proud. Another example: I can go off on a tangent for England. I can write a really long blog post for England.  I can emphasize a point for England. ::End tangent::

Well, I’m going to do a complete turn around and take care of some things and tell you about things I’ve already taken care of. You know, throw a little encouragement around to get stuff done. Mostly throwing it to myself to maintain the momentum, but you can have a serving, too. First, the stuff I’ve done:

WIN. After only two days of warm weather, I’ve gotten all of my flip flops and sandals out of the attic. This usually takes me until mid-summer, until which time I walk around in winter shoes with very hot feet. No good. This year, I WIN.  Now to coax the rest of my summer clothes down...

TRIUMPH. I have a running weekly to do list with some things that remain on the same day each week (read about my love of spreadsheets here). If I miss something I change the color to red, so I can look back on the week and see how badly well I’ve done. This week, no red! To do triumph. Does anyone else do this? Or am I talking to my OCD here?

Now to add one more thing to the list. I’ve gotten a few blog awards and I’ve not gotten around to making my thank yous, so I’m going to do it now. I was inspired by Jen to do something like this after her post about awards. I have some angst when it comes to awards because most of them “require” you to pass the award along to 1,345,879 other bloggers. That makes me unhappy. I mean, don’t get me wrong – there are SO MANY great bloggers that I follow and read (so many so that it takes days just to make one round) and I’d love to recognize them all. But that’d take me forever and I don’t want to leave anyone out. Also, I almost never click on any of the links people list in those posts. There are too many. Daunting. So if I do participate, I just list two or three so my readers might actually feel they have time to click over there. (I usually highlight people who make me laugh out loud. Some blogs I read are more serious but I still love reading them. For some reason I just tend to pass along some funny ones, and not even all of those. Odd, I know.  Even. Odd.  I just snickered at that. I'm such a nerd.)

So I don’t want anyone to think I’ve left them out or that I don’t love their blog. I do. I wouldn’t follow, visit and post comments if I didn’t. And I really do actually read every post I comment on. I’m not a skimmer. If you post something I’m not interested in, I just won’t comment or I’ll comment on another post. Simple. You can’t please everyone and I mostly love bloggers who please themselves with their blogs anyway. That’s the way it should be, right?

Anyway, that being said, thank you to Stef and Kim who gave me blog awards that I’ve not thanked you for yet. I do appreciate them very much! And I read their blogs, too, and enjoy them.

See? I’m getting stuff done and sharing my feeeeeeeeelings and stuff. Good, right?

Are you still there?

Hello?

Oh, there you are. By the way, thanks for hanging in there with me and all of my epic posts. Your comments brighten my day, make me think and most importantly make me laugh. And you know I love to laugh.

the hamster tragedy, etc.

Got a few things to cover and I’m going for a short-ish blog today. I might skimp on the adjectives. Wish me luck. If this does turn out to be epic, it might still be worth the read because there will be tragic death and funny people at the end. That’s a promise.

Seven things about me first, then other stuff. Because you guys know how I’m all about me, me, me on this here blog. So getting the random seven things about me out of the way up front. Here goes.

ONE. I drink two liters of water a day but sometimes I put stuff in it to be able to stand it. (Not a fan of water). I bet several different things popped into your collective minds to replace “stuff.” Well, it’s not that exciting, but it IS delicious. I use strawberries and mint leaves or cucumbers. I know cucumbers sound odd, but it’s actually quite good. I also use pineapples pieces sometimes. Plus it looks pretty. I highly recommend it.

TWO. I’ve slept with the same pillow since I was born. It was a gift from my godfather. It’s been cleaned so much that it has holes in the original case and I had to put the whole thing in another case that zips. I call it Mr. Pillow.

THREE. I’ve been on approximately 70 planes in my life. That doesn’t seem like that many to me. Maybe it’s stranger that I wondered and counted it up.

FOUR. I sometimes get really carsick. But never at night. And not if I play an audiobook on the journey. It’s strange and totally psychological.

SIX. I know I skipped five but I’m not feeling a five today. Besides, you’re sick of facts about me anyway. In fact, I think this will be my number six fact.

SEVEN. In honor of Jen and Hamster Central I'll tell a hamster story. I had two hamsters when I was growing up. I got them for a science project in which I proved they could learn complex tasks through repetition by teaching one to go through a maze (that I built). I didn’t teach the other one. There was a food prize at the end of the maze and the first hamster learned to go straight to it pretty quickly. The judges were meant to test them both to see that one knew it and the other didn’t. I got first prize. (Yeah, I was a science nerd. Poke your fun.)

Anyway, they were both supposed to be girls but they had babies. It was tragic (and a little against the laws of nature). We had to separate dad from mom and babies because apparently the dad can sometimes get peckish and munch on the babies. Yeah. I was, like, eight. My mom said, “We need to move the dad because he might eat the babies.” Just like that. I was like this:

So we did. But I felt sorry for him after a few days and let him go free. In our back yard. He totally survived in the wild. I know he did. As for mom and the babies, apparently if you scare the mom she’ll eat the babies, too. Yeah. That whole thing ended in the ultimate hamster family dysfunction. Needless to say, I’ve had no rodents since.  Wow that story kinda sounds like Medea.  I should have named mommy hamster Medea.  By the way, she escaped when I accidentally left the cage door open one time and I never saw her again.  I'm not good with hamsters, it seems.

Speaking of Jen, she gave me the award that allowed me to tell you those amazing facts. She’s awesome. Her website makes me happy. I know I’ve already told you that, but I was just making sure you were paying attention. Thank you, Jen.

Anyway here are the rules of said award:

1. Thank the person who gave you this award *Done*
2. Share 7 things about yourself. *Done*
3. Pass the award along to 15 bloggers who you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic! (in no particular order…)
4. Contact the bloggers you’ve picked and let them know about the award.

Here are some of my favorite bloggers. Like Jen I follow lots of big-name blogs, but I’m going to stick to people who don’t have a million plus followers already. And I’m going to break the rules a little and just do a few because I want you to have time to visit them.

1. Stef at Ooops…There Goes My Mind. She’s so funny. So funny. She tells stories about her five kids and her deaf husband – she has such funny way of telling her life stories. Did I mention she’s funny?

2. Mayra at life is BANANAS. She’s adorable and she says what’s on her mind. I love it. She’s also funny.

3. Jen at Denton Sanitorium. I know I’ve put a link to her site before but she really is great. I look forward to her blog everyday. She, her husband and their seven kids are beautiful and she has a way with words. Her blog is real and interesting. Oh….and she’s funny.

There’s a pattern there. Can’t quite put my finger on it, though. Anyway, there you have it. Awards bestowed. Facts disclosed. Paige tired.

Going to take a nap.

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some books (and shampoo)

So I’ve read a few books lately. One of them was To Kill a Mockingbird. I liked it. That’s all I have to say, really. Most of the time when I mention on my blog that I read a book there’s usually a long commentary about how great or how horrible it was. But with TKaM, I just liked it. That’s all. It’s not like Moby Dick which I went on and on about for days because it’s the most awesome book of all time or like Wind in the Willows which I pretty much loathed. Just, “It’s alright.” If you were wowed by it or if you hated it, let me know. Stir the pot. Push the boat out. [and other appropriate phrases to encourage you]

I’ve also read a few Terry Pratchett books lately, too. Those are not really my cup of tea but the Bear loves him, so I gave it a try. I must admit that his books are sometimes pretty funny. I read Guards! Guards! first upon the Bear’s suggestion and really liked it. It made me laugh. I love anything that makes me laugh. He does have a particular brand of humor, though, so I’d guess that you love it or you hate it. I’ve also read The Wintersmith which I didn’t care for, The Time Thief which sort of lost me and wasn’t really funny and his latest book Unseen Academicals which I really liked. I’m not going to become a die hard fan any time soon, but he’s very clever and worth a look. Consider yourself encouraged.

Right now I’m reading Beyond Good and Evil by Nietzsche. That’s right. I gave in to my brain in the negotiations (outlined in this post) and I’m trying out the Nietzschster. I’m only into the first few sections and so far my commentary is pretty much, “Dude.” I’m not sure what to think yet, but I’m sure I’ll get back to you on that one. It seems like something I’m going to have a lot to say about. I can feel my brain pulsing already. Although I’m probably subjecting myself to several iterations of this conversation:

Other Person: “Whatcha reading?”
Me: “Nietzsche.”
Other Person: “Oh.”
- end conversation-

That’s alright, though. I can take the ridicule. Don’t hate me because I read philosophy.

**Sidebar: Does anyone remember those Pantene “don’t hate me because I’m beautiful” commercials? I loved those stupid things. It was Pantene, right?

***Sidebar, sidebar: I bet every comment I get on this post will be about Pantene. AWESOME. (Because that’s what I’d comment about.)

I love you guys.

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r is for really cute babies

Today's post is brought to you by the letter R.  As in really cute baby animals.  Who doesn't love a baby animal.  Everyone together now...."Aaaawwww."

Speaking of Sesame Street, remember a long time ago when they had that thing where you have to guess which thing is "not like the others?"  Yeah.  Keep your eye out for that.

fishy comic strip

For my Writer's Workshop this week I chose this prompt:

1.) Create your own comic strip.

today i learned...

...that even though Phoenix is sporting a chunky eight pound frame of chubbiness, the Bear is still no match for her.

The Bear was chasing her around the back yard and couldn't catch her, no matter how hard he tried.   These photos are not the best but what they lack in quality they make up for in hilarity.  I love these two.

"You wanna piece of me?"

Close, but no poodle.

 Then, she really got her run on.

Look at that face...the concentration...the determination....

She has laser-like focus in her eyes.  A near miss!

But still free.

Look at those angles!

The Bear is hanging in there, but defeat is soon upon him.

Stealth wins the chase for our fat little lightning bolt, leaving the Bear to fall over in the grass.  To be fair, he is wearing dress shoes.

But being the good little sport she is, she ends it with a hand shake.  So gracious.

What a precious little piglet she is.

This has been part of Tuesdays Around the World with communal global. Click below to check out Tuesdays in other parts of the world!

names, part two

Okay, so I loved the comments from yesterday’s post so much that I wanted to write more. If you haven’t read them, I think you’d enjoy it. I LOVE IT. Reader’s responses were way better than the post, I think. Some of the names are really good. And I must admit that there are a few more people-named animals on there that sound quite nice. (I still wouldn’t do it, but I’ll admit when I’m sorta not exactly right. What? That’s as close as I get to admitting to the “w” word. I might be a little stubborn.)

To answer the question posed by Tezzie, we had the Midnights over the course of several years, about 14 or so. One was hit by a car. One ran away when we moved. We took her with us but she left and never came back. We moved a lot when I was younger and my parents gave one of them to the neighbors when we moved to spare her the journey. One was very ill when we got her and didn’t make it. My mom didn’t know that at the time. The last one we had until she was really old (this is the one that eventually broke the chain). All of them except the original were rescue cats and my mom would choose the one least likely to get a home, which usually meant they were old (we got Midnight 1 as a kitten). So most of them died of old age with us. I’m not sure what happened with the others, exactly. All of them lived in the house except one, so I’m sure my mom kept a close watch on them so if something happened she’d know right away. Wow, telling this tale it seems stranger than when it was actually happening.

Also, I forgot to mention yesterday that I LOVE unusual names for people – like when people name their kids after inanimate objects or just something you don’t hear a lot. For example, Gwyneth Paltrow’s daughter Apple. I love that name. I know, I know, I hear the gasps of horror, but I think it’s really original and so cute. I’d be happy if that was my name. In fact, I might need for you to all start calling me Apple. Thank you.

I know that's a picture of a pear but I don't have a picture of an apple and you needed a visual so that you don't forget to start calling me Apple.  That's as close as I could get.

I also like it when people switch around gender names. I’ve known girls called Michael and George, which I think is kinda cute. There are many conventional names I like, too, like Jane and Katherine and Josephine, especially when the name fits that person perfectly. Which basically means that if I have kids they’ll resent their names forever. But I can deal with that.

Have you ever met someone and thought, “I must remember that name so I can use it later?” I have a friend called Piper and I love it because I’d love to be called Piper. I’m afraid one of my children might have to carry that burden for me. Which will be awkward if I have all boys. Also another friend’s husband is called Grayson, which I think is a great name for a man. (Just a little note: Grayson and Katherine are the proud owners of Scout, who I mentioned in yesterday’s post. They are a family full of good names.)

One of the problems with some names is that they can be shortened. I like some shortened versions better, mind you, but that’s something for me to consider not only with my kids but with animals, too. Because let’s face it, if you name a kid William you better get used to Bill and Will and Willie. You have to like all of those names before you commit. I know that some people consistently call the kid William when he’s a child because they want everyone to call him that and maybe he’ll carry that on as an adult, but somewhere along the line he’s going to be saddled with Bill by some joker. Or worse – he chooses to be called Willie as an adult. All your hard work, GONE.

One reason I want to try to give my kids original names is because even the good ones are so over used. For example, I think Emma is just the cutest name. I really love it. The only thing bad about it is that it was the most popular name in the US for years. There are tons of people in several countries called Emma. I think it bothers me personally because I really wanted a unique name. I want my kids to have that. Most of the people I talk to about this couldn’t care less if there are lots of people who share their name, so I’m starting to think this is one of my quirks. Does anyone agree with me? *crickets*

Do you have any favorite people names? Is there anything you thought of after your kids were named that you wish you’d thought of before? Are there any names you don’t like or think are over used?

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what’s in a name?

I have to admit it – I’m one of those people who doesn’t like it when animals have people names, particularly cats and dogs. Now, if you have a cat called Fred or a dog called Edith please don’t send me hate mail. This is just my opinion and I realize that people have every right to name their animals anything they like. I would just never name my animals with people names.

I once new of a girl who had a cat named Michelle and she talked about her like they were best friends (they probably were, now that I think about it). She would talk about how she and Michelle went to the park or how they watched a movie that she liked but Michelle didn’t, etc., etc. Everyone thought it was a real person until things started to sound odd…like Michelle slept in a basket and once jumped out of the window chasing a bird. Finally someone found out that Michelle was of the feline persuasion and spread the word to the rest of the unknowing co-workers. She was a little crazy, but STILL. I just think animals should have animal names like Rover, Fido and Fluffy.

There are some exceptions to the rule. I think Max and Jake make good names for big dogs or even cats. I once knew someone who had a cat called Claudia and that worked well. We have a friend with a Jack Russell Terrier called Martha and Phoenix loves to play with her. So I know it’s not a hard and fast rule. It’s just a preference of mine. I suppose the pet’s name has to suit the owner’s personality, too.

I’ve known people to have some interesting animal names. Here are some that I like:

• Scout (cat)
• Bosco (mini Schnauzer)
• Cookie (toy poodle)
• Dumpster (cat. My friend found this cat in a dumpster as a kitten.)
• Sprinkles (Rottweiler. I love this one! It goes against the rough stereotype of the breed)
• Teaspoon (another mini Schnauzer. This dog belonged to one of my high school friends’ mom and they used to get irritated with me because I couldn’t remember it. I always called the dog Teabag.)
• Kanga (cat)
• Deeohgee (Labrador)
• Quarter (German Shepard)
• Zipper (big hairy cross-breed. My grandmother had this dog for about 17 years. He was huge and shaggy and wonderful. I love this name.)
• Tippy (my other grandmother's chihuahau. She used to tell on my dad when he would come in late as a teenager by barking and biting him on the ankle. She didn't tell on any of his siblings, though.)

So many people I’ve known have had animals with names that I wish I had thought of, so this is not an exhaustive list. This is just what I can remember right now after eating a risotto followed by a coconut milkshake. My brain is heavy, full and frozen. But trust me, there are lots of these.

I’ve had lots and lots of animals, some of which I called things like Cuddles, Big Dog, Princess, Vaidaya and of course Phoenix. I had about seven solid black cats called Midnight because I was young and to shield me from the horrors of death my mom just kept replacing each one with an identical replica when they would die. That went on for years, even after I realized that it wasn’t the same cat. I had a red poodle called Dragon before I moved overseas that I gave to my mom. She really lives up to the name and the fiery hair color but she and my mom are great friends. Then there was Bandit – my first dog and my favorite doggie name ever, apart from Echo, my dad’s dog.

So see? So many good names for animals that are not also people names. The lists could just go on and on. I’m not sure why I feel this way. I just do.

NOW THEN.

When I met the Bear he already had our cat. He rescued her from a shelter so she came with a name. That name was Jessica. JESSICA. The name Jessica is great…for a person. But for a cat? Really RSPCA? You couldn’t do better than that for a cat? He agreed, but to minimize effort confusion he just called her Jessie. So, for the first time ever I have an animal with a people name. It wasn’t by choice, though. I mean Jessica? Seriously? Anyway, she’s the most wonderful, tolerant, loving cat ever and I adore her to the bone. I just wish we could call her Fluffy. Or Whiskers. Or Fido.

Well, now that I have that out of my system, wanna see a photo of my people-named cat? Here you go:

Isn’t she beautiful? I’m a little biased but I think she’s lovely. Okay, so she’s a little bit fat plump but we’re working on that. It’s a sensitive subject for her. Don’t bring it up.  She bit the dog yesterday and I'm pretty sure it was preceeded by some name calling and a mention of her girth. 

Again, I want to close by saying I’m not adamantly against animals with people names, I just think there are better names for a pet. Heck, I don’t even like some people names for people. So please don’t get mad because I’ll never name a dog Elizabeth or Douglas. Let’s just agree to disagree and all get along. Okay?

Do you have an animal with an interesting name? Or a people name? How did you name your pet?

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q is for “quintessential”

Today I’m participating in Alphabe-Thursday. For the first time EVER. Be proud of me. Do it now. Oh, thank you, thank you! You are so kind.

In honor of my British Bear, I’m going to give you some things that are “quintessentially British” (his words). I have a few posts filed under “uk life” where I document my confusion and amusement at the culture difference between me and the wonderful British population. So if there are a few of these you’ve heard before, pretend this is the first time you’ve seen or heard them. I want to hear some oooing and aaaahing, people.

(Is it just me, or do I seem a little bossier than usual today? I’m so very sorry about that. I have no idea what’s gotten into me. Maybe I need a juice box and a nap.)

Anyway, enough of my babbling and on with the list.

THING #1: First we have CURRY. You may be thinking to yourself, “Isn’t curry Indian?” Well, yes. But if you’re going to get all caught up in facts then this is probably not the blog for you. I’m just saying that British people love a curry more than the air they breathe, that’s all. They even have a dish made up solely for them called Chicken Tikka Masala. If you want to read more about my perspective on the British love of curry, I can provide. Click here.

THING #2: The word “squash” can mean the game that’s kinda like racquetball, a fruity drink that you have to dilute or the thing that you do to a bug. It rarely means fruit, except butternut squash, which the Bear seems to love and can readily identify. But to me it just means those yellow things you put in casseroles.

{image here}

I’ve never seen those in the UK. So, a conversation when I first arrived could have gone something like this:

Me: Let’s pick up some squash.
Bear: We can play a game next Wednesday evening, if you want.
Me: Huh? No, I mean we need to get some at the grocery store.
Bear: Oh. Well, we have some. It’s here. (Pulls out a bottle of liquid.)
Me: *confused* What’s that?
Bear: Probably not what you mean, either. Um…
Me: Squash like the fruit…you know for casseroles?
Bear: Um…like maybe butternut squash?
Me: Closer! Except yellow with a tail.
Bear: *total confusion*
Me: Like a zucchini* except not green and not shaped like that.
Bear: I give up.

*Just to add to the confusion, zucchini is called courgette over here. Because the whole squash thing needed a twist.

THING #3: Pubs. I love a Public House. Pub food makes me happy. One of my favorites is The Old Beams. It’s nice and the food is yumtastic. It’s not actually our local, but it’s our local in our hearts. We go there all of the time. When we walk in they yell, “Norm!” Okay, they don’t…but if they did that would be an awesome story to put on my blog. Maybe I can make some calls. Anyway, the thing I had to get used to with pubs is that it’s a family place, too, like a restaurant. I’m used to bars not allowing children but in pubs it’s very different. Sunday roast with the family at a nice, quaint (my 2nd q word! Yay!) pub – a good way to spend a day.

Disappointingly, I’ve never heard anyone say, “cheerio” or “old chap” or “old bean” in a sentence here. And people don’t wear top hats and tweed coats and carry canes.  The brochures lied.  I'm thinking that I missed that boat by about 200 years, but still.

Well, I have a ton of these but I better stop before this post gets epic. What? Too late? Well. You win some you lose some.

I have to go now anyway because I need to text the Bear and convince him to take me to The Old Beams for a squash curry.

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ode to my thermal shirt

This week’s writing assignments at Mama Kat’s were interesting. As I scanned the prompts, I saw this one:

4.) Write a 20-line poem (rhyming or non-rhyming) dedicated to your favorite piece of clothing (could be a shirt, hat, shoes, etc.). (inspired by writersdigest.com)

Opportunity for silliness? YES, PLEASE.

I got this thermal shirt for trekking in the Andes a few weeks ago and I couldn’t help trying it out. Several times. It’s currently my favorite piece of clothing. Perfect for an ode. Hence, a poetic masterpiece is born.

Ode to My Thermal Shirt

Thermal shirt I love you so much
You’re warm and cozy and soft to the touch
You’re easy to clean – I can brush off the crumbs
You even have cool holes for my thumbs 

You look great as I wear you on a cold breezy day
You stay just where you should when I run and play
You make me look thin and beautiful too
Everyone envies me when I’m wearing you

You protect me from bullets and attacks with a knife
I’ve lost count of the times you’ve saved my life
With you I can fly and sail over the trees
Leap very tall buildings with grace and ease

You make me a genius outwitting my foes
You keep my mind sharp and me on my toes
You’ve made me rich too which is good for a shirt
When I have a sweet tooth you make me dessert

If I needed a basket you could weave it for me
If I were imprisoned you’d set me free
In summary I love you and think you’re just great
Too bad you do nothing when I exaggerate.

William Wordsworth Paige

Update: Yes, I realize that's 25 lines and not just 20 like the directions say.  What?  You didn't notice?  Really?  Anyway, I have trouble following directions, as you may have noticed if you have read more than one of my blogs.  What?  You haven't?  Really?  [super sad face complete with big puppy dog eyes]

Update, update:  That really is only 20 lines.  I can't count.  I can't count or follow directions.  I suppose rocket science as a career is out, then, huh?

make a wish

Everyone needs a friend, even a dandelion.

Especially when you're not at your best.

Okay...make a wish...

...nearly there...

What are you going to wish for?




The theme today at communal global is "My Scent" which I didn't know before I made this post.  Again, though, I'm joining anyway.  It's just to fun to miss.