61 days and counting...

I've got camping fever... BAD!
Our first vacation of the year is scheduled for the first week in April. I expect we'll be heading for the nearest campground on April 2nd (if not sooner!). So with that target date in mind, we've got 61 days to go.
Woo-Hoo!!

I'd like to thank....

As we watch all the awards ceremonies, the S.A.G., the Golden Globes, the Oscars, etc., etc., etc.,
we see the winners take the stage and give their little speeches of thanks. Most of them all sound the same, and we kindly get tired of hearing them.
But, much like any of those winners that say: "I would like to thank all those that 'got me where I am today', I couldn't have done it without you", I'd like to take this moment to thank some of those that got me where I am today. Because sometimes it's the little things that mean so much!
I'd like to thank my grandmother "Nanny" for instilling in me a passion for reading, because we learn so much from books... even works of fiction.
I'd like to thank my friend, Sara, for inspiring me to learn to cross-stitch. It's a craft I love (though I don't indulge in as often as I'd like), and it keeps my hands from being idle.
I'd like to thank my childhood neighbor, Phyllis, for giving me the opportunity to drive her Ford van when I had my learners permit. She had confidence in me and I was certainly less nervous driving with her than I ever was with my parents.
I'd like to thank Mr. Dale, my computer programming teacher at Prosser Voc. school. If I hadn't been so miserable in his class (hated programming, didn't understand it!) and asked to get out of taking his class for a second year, he would never have encouraged me to take the data-entry class across the hall, which I excelled at (top of my class), and I'd never have gotten the job at Coca-Cola, which means I'd never have met my husband, and you know the rest from there.
I'd like to thank my parents for instilling a strong work ethic, irregardless of the job.
I'd like to thank my aunt Anna for introducing me to a true southern accent and words I'd never heard before like "Futher" (further), and "Rurnt" (ruined). Everytime I hear someone (usually from the south) use one of those words, I always think of her. ; )
Also, I'd like to thank her for getting me interested in painting ceramics. Granted I'm not very good at it, but I still enjoy it.
I'd like to thank my 6th grade teacher, Miss Lee, my 8th grade English-Lit. teacher, Ms. O'Rear, and my 10th grade English-Lit. teacher, Mr. Lewis, for instilling in me the joys of writing (mostly Ms. O'Rear, but the others played a part too). Also I'd like to thank Miss Lee for threatening to paddle my backside if I didn't shape up and fly right. She knew I had the capabilities to be a good student, and didn't allow me to slack-off as I was want to do my 6th grade year. I ended that year on the honor roll, even though I started the year off miserably.
I'd like to thank my 7th grade science teacher, Mr. Hawn, for teaching me that "Shut Up" isn't a polite thing to say.
I'd like to thank my 11th grade English teacher, Mrs. Fulcher, for a strong vocabulary. That's not to say my vocabulary is vast, but at least I have a passion for looking up words I don't know or understand.
I'd like to thank my accounting teacher Mrs. Mosley for not only teaching me how to balance a checkbook, but the importance of doing so. I'm now very anal about making sure my checkbook balances to the penny, each and every month.
I'd like to thank my dearly departed uncle "B". I do believe it was from him that I developed my love of animals and my desire to live in the country.
And last but not least, I'd like to thank all the little people in my life. Everyone around me has had some kind of influence (whether they/I realize it) and has helped shape and mold me into the person I am now.
Thank you!

Too emotional?

I've been accused of being over-emotional over every-little-thing.
Maybe so. As stated in a previous blog, I did cry when I heard about a reporter getting injured in the war zone.
But I guess what really qualifies me as being over emotional is this...
I was flipping through the channels this weekend, and as I paused for a moment on the Discovery channel, they were doing a segment on sea turtles.
It mentioned how one particular kind of turtle laid hundreds of eggs at a time and a few weeks later, out crawled the little baby turtles. Too cute!!
But horror of horrors!!!!, there were gobs of birds and salt-water crocodiles just lying in wait for them. And it showed them being snatched up like appetizers at a super-bowl party. It said that only about 1 or 2 out of every "litter" lives to adulthood.
I found this very disturbing and proceeded to cry.
Okay, so maybe I am over emotional.

Almost Family

Obviously I'm a day behind in watching the news and knowing what's going on in the world, because I didn't find out that anything had happened to Bob Woodruff (& Doug Vogt ?) 'til this morning. Needless to say, I got teary-eyed.
Big shock, eh?
I was telling an acquaintance this morning, and he couldn't believe I would cry over a reporter getting injured.
A reporter?
Oh no no no! Not just a reporter. This is someone that comes into our home almost everyday (that we tune in). Some of these reporters/anchors become like family members.
I never thought of myself as a Bob Woodruff "fan", always feeling neutral when I'd see him reporting, but obviously it did affect me.
Now if anything ever happens to any of my Good Morning America anchors, Charlie, Diane or Robin, I'll probably have to call in to work and take a personal day to stay home and grieve!!
I've had real, biological family members that I've shown less grief for when they passed, then I do when some of these t.v. people die, get injured, or simply leave the show.

Drop-out

After 4 weeks of taking Bootsy to agility school, I've come to the decision it's time to give it up.
I enrolled her thinking she'd enjoy it and we'd have fun doing it together. But the only thing she has fun doing is going for a ride in the car to/from the class. Everything else associated with it has been a disaster.
From the moment we arrive, Bootsy stands facing the gate (irregardless of which way I face), just waiting for any small chance to escape. The only thing I did accomplish this weekend, was getting her to jump through the tire-hoop. I will say this much, I was working her separately, away from the rest of the group, and she was clearing the hurdles set on their highest level. That she does very well. If agility was comprised of nothing but jumping, I'd have a winner on my hands. But alas, it's not.
We've made no progress with the tunnel, and she seems to have regressed in her progress of the A-frame and dog-walk platform.
The instructor, bless her, tried to be kind and let me down easy. She said the class was turning out to be a waste of money for me, and she would talk to the other lady about either getting a refund or using our funds to go through another obedience class instead. I wasn't overly crushed by her statement (since she handled it so kindly I suppose), and took it in stride. I gave it my best effort, 'though I can't say the same for Bootsy.
If anyone needs a 20' tunnel, I can sell you one cheap.

Monster

I'm afraid I've created a monster.
For the past two weeks at agility class, Bootsy has absolutely refused to go through the tunnel. On the way home from class saturday, I went to Target and purchased one that is approx. 20' long, took it home and opened up this giant, nylon-covered spring. The package does have a warning on it to be careful. Fortunately, our instructor had already given me a warning to be careful. Thank goodness! Because let's face it, in all likelyhood, I'd have opened the package and had that enormous spring pop open, and possibly killing one of the dogs should they happen to be standing in front of me when I undid the snaps.
Every single day I have set the tunnel up and tried everything in my power to persuade Bootsy (or Eliott) to go through it, but nothing has worked. I've tossed dog treats, biscuits, hot dogs, bones, toys, even one of our cats... Nothing will convince them to enter the tunnel!! At least, nothing will convince those two.
Now Olivia on the other hand, well, as I stated above, I've created a monster there. She has no fear of the tunnel, and in fact needs no treats or coaxing, but willingly enters it and crawls on through. She seems to love it. In fact, I think she loves it a little too much.
Monday & Tuesday evenings, right after I finished dinner and had things put in order, I had gotten the tunnel out to try working with Bootsy. Of course the one I end up working with is Olivia. So after only two nights, she has now come to expect it as a part of our routine.
Last night, once dinner was complete, John had settled in a recliner, and I was walking from the kitchen to the living room, and as I passed the dining room/catch-all table where the folded tunnel was lying, Olivia went over to the tunnel and started nudging it with her nose as if to tell me, "Okay mom, it's time to play in the tunnel".
I obliged her and opened it up. She made several trips through it. I only made one slight effort to get Bootsy through it, but she never budged from her recliner, just looking at me as if to say, "yeah, right". She obviously isn't impressed that Olivia likes it so much and goes through it with ease.
Maybe I should be putting Olivia through agility school.

Retirement

Retirement. A word that brings to mind so many wonderful things; like not working anymore, having time to travel, go places, relax, yadda, yadda. Then the reality of it sets in. The retirement age for someone of my age is like 70 or 72. So if I have to wait 'til I'm 70 before I can officially retire, then that means John will be 78. Geesh!, will either of us even be up to the challange of taking it easy? We'll go right from the work-force to the retirement home! Where's the justice?
But I mention retirement for a different reason. Last night, the husband mentioned that in January of 2007, he will have been in the fire service for 30 years. I said, "Good, does that mean you'll finally retire?"
John joined Harrods Creek in 1977, when he was 17 years old. He's never risen in the ranks to achieve an officers status or even been certified to operate the fire trucks, instead preferring to remain an "indian" among too many chiefs. In other words, he wants to be the one that goes in where the action is, instead of staying on the outside watching.
I had my fling with the fire service too. A year and a half as a firefighter, then a member of the ladies auxiliary for a number of years. But I've had enough, and washed my hands of any involvement a couple of years ago. I just wish the husband would do the same thing.
Going back to a previous blog... I know we (or at least I) will never acquire our dream home as long as he remains on the fire departments, as there isn't any property in the district, of the size land I want, that is affordable. Our dream home most assuredly will have to be built away from Jefferson/Oldham counties.
So I can only begin to hope my dream will someday become a reality when he does decide to retire from the fire service.

Back-seat drivers

This is no secret... as a nation, we are spoiling our children rotten!
Every parent wants their child(ren) to have more/better than what they themselves had while growing up. And of course in this day and age, if we deny our childrens wants in the stores and they start to throw a temper-tantrum, we can't swat them like our parents did us, instead, to avoid the scene (or to avoid being turned into child protective services), we give in to their ever whim and want.
That having been said...
I dare say, we're raising a nation of children that can't find their way from point A to point B without the aid of an On-Star device in the cars.
When I was growing up, whenever we went anywhere, we either read a book, played games like Riddly-riddly ree, I see something you don't see... or we watched for passing cars to see who could spot the ones with a burned out headlight, or "collected" license plates from as many states as possible, or napped (usually only after having been cooped up for long periods of time). Even in spite of reading while riding in the back seat, we still took in a lot of the scenery that passed us by. It made back-seat drivers of us.
Kids nowadays sit back there with their eyes closed while listening to their MP3 players (todays version of the Walkman), or even worse, they sit and watch movies or play video games, and as a result, they are totally oblivious to where they are going.
Where am I going with all this, you ask?
A couple of weeks ago, one of our firefighters was telling us that his 16 year old son had gotten his drivers license a few months ago. The family has lived in the same house since before the son was born, so lets face it, this child should know his way around the community pretty well by now. The boy (Tim I'll call him), is clueless! He had no idea how to get to the Watterson Expressway, which he'd been on hundreds, if not thousands of times in his life. He couldn't drive to his fathers place of employment, which he'd been to a bazillion times, and he couldn't figure out how to drive over to Lyndon, which they live less than 2 miles from.
Now I'm not trying to pick on Tim, or imply he's dumb, because he's not. He's a very good student. He just has no clue how to find his way around, and I can't help but wonder if it's because his parents spoiled him with all of todays little luxuries.
Maybe our kids would be better off without these backseat toys, and better navigators if they were forced to be "back seat drivers".

Silly things

I was looking through the new LTD catalog that arrived at work today. As I was flipping the pages, I couldn't help but notice how silly some of these items are.... or at least, to me they are silly. I'm sure somebody out there thinks they're a good idea. I'm just not one of them.
The Portable Wonder Washer. Yes, for only $44.95 plus S/H, you too can be the proud owner of the Portable Wonder Washer. It's 10 liter capacity (this thing looks smaller than a 5 gallon bucket), has 2, count them, Two, speeds, and a 15 minute timer.
This item looks like an over-sized blender! And it appears to only hold one pair of jeans at a time. Hmm, what's the point? I try to stuff our washer as cram-packed full as I can with as many items as I can!!
Besides, you have to fill this thing yourself, with a pitcher of water, and then tip it over a sink to empty it out. Then refill it for the rinse cycle. Wash, rinse, repeat.
Sorry, this new convenience item sounds like too much work to me.
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Then there is the Pop-Up Aquarium... the durable habitat for fish or water plants.
Um, yeah. I can just see this item sitting on either my front or back porches. My dogs would be in 7th heaven! "ooooh, a large water bowl for us!". Do you have any idea how slimy that water would get, or how often I'd have to add water?
Not only that, I can just see Bootsy & Eliott zipping around the back yard and run into the thing. Woops!, not only does it pop-up, it collapses real easy too. Sorry about your luck Mr. Fishy.
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The Outdoor Cat Tunnel. Well, let's see, at first glance this doesn't seem like such a bad thing. But then I noticed the two large holes in the bottom of this contraption, that allow the grass to stick up through it so the cat can munch(?) on it (I assume). These are rather large holes, and it wouldn't take much for a cat to slip through this hole, and tunnel under the tunnel, making its way to freedom. No, I think it's best that the kittys stay in-doors and just enjoy lying in the window sill.
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One last thought... this has nothing to do with the catalog.
I stopped for a soda & a couple of biscuits at the local Dairy Queen before coming into work this morning. As I drove away, the irony of the situation occurred to me (not for the first time either)... I simply refuse to pay more than .99 cents for a 2-liter of soda at the grocery, and yet I think nothing of paying $1.29 for a 12 oz. paper cup filled with ice and a little bit of soda.
What's wrong with this picture?

Dream home

For years I've thought about what my "dream home" would look like and what amenities it would have in it. I finally sat down and jotted down some of the requirements for my next home (assuming my next home isn't a rest-home)...
My Dream Home will sit on a lot that is 3 to 5 acres in size. It will be red brick. There will be a 3-car detached garage, so that there is room enough for both our vehicles and our camper, and in one corner, there will be built a dog-washing stall. This of course means that the garage will have to be heated so that my children won't freeze when I bathe them in the winter time.
My house will have a an extra-wide wrap-around porch with a swing.
The kitchen will be huge!, with a 6-burner stove, two ovens, lots of counter space & cabinets, a walk-in pantry, and a sunny breakfast nook. A separate formal dining room, and a laundry/mud-room off to the side, which would actually be the entrance from the garage side of the house. The laundry/mud room would have x-lrg capacity washer & dryer, one of those deep sinks, and a "stall", where one could fill a bucket w/water without having to heft it in/out of a sink, or one could stand in to rinse off muddy feet.
There would be a large master bedroom on the first floor, w/very large master-bathroom.
The bathroom would have a giant walk-in shower, an over-sized, extra deep, claw-footed tub, double sinked vanity, and a linen closet. Oh, and the toilet will be a tall one so that I don't feel like I'm sitting on the floor, and so that it's easier to get up off of.
The living room will have a fireplace w/a raised hearth and a mantle, and hardwood floors.
There would also be a half bath on the first floor, and a small bedroom for the dogs to sleep in.
On the second floor, two average sized bedrooms, a loft area that can be a t.v. area or craft room area, and a full-bath.
All rooms will have lots of electrical outlets, and all the doorways will be slightly wider than usual.
The basement has few requirements... I just want some shelves to store decorations, camping gear, etc. on, and a place to hide-out in case of bad weather.
Does it sound like I'm asking for too much?
Yeah, I know, it really is a "dream home", and I'll just keep on dreaming about it, because in my dreams is probably the only place I'll ever get to live in it.

Crafts

I believe it was in my previous blogging life, that I mentioned my desire to learn to crochet (or knit)... it hasn't been an over-whelming success. I purchased a Knifty-knitter, but all I have managed to make are some little knit-hats. Good for babies or dolls I suppose. I don't know of any adult that would wear one of these things.
Wanting to get back into the habit of filling some of my free-time (what's that?!!?) by doing something somewhat useful, other than wasting away in front of the t.v., I've recently gotten back into the habit of cross-stitching.
I used to cross-stitch all the time. In the car (as a passenger of course), at work (when not busy), while at other peoples homes, while in front of the t.v. But over the past 2 or 3 years, I let this craft, much like my diet & exercise and so many other things in life, go by the way-side.
Now in the past week, I've gotten back into x-stitching. I'd like to be able to work on it at home more, but the k-9 kids won't allow it. Or even if they did, whatever project I was working on would undoubtedly be full of pet hair by the time I got through. So for now I'm settling for working on it during my free time away from home.
I can remember the day when Wal-mart used to have a rather large section and large variety of x-stitching kits, charts and supplies. I left the house 40 minutes early this morning so I could stop at the LaGrange Wal-mart and browse. Hmph! Much like the store by my house, this store had a dismal selection. It's down to a section of shelf approx. 7 ft. long by 6 ft. high. Gone are the 15 ft. long shelves, both sides of the aisle, times two aisles.
What's happened to this craft? Wal-mart isn't the only store that's gone down hill in this area. Michaels doesn't have much of a selection either.
I suppose the stores cater to the hobbies that are "in vogue" at the time, like beading and scrap-booking.
No wonder the fabric stores that used to be all over the place are practically non-existent now!
I used to get a lot of craft supplies at Franks Nursery & Craft stores. Oh how I wish they hadn't gone out of business!!

Ironic?

I've already emailed some of you directly about having spotted a picture & birthday greeting of my step-great-grandmother in the weekend newspaper.
For those of you that don't know what I'm talking about... my s-g-g, Eddie Mae Deutsch, turned 95 last week. Up until having seen her picture in the paper Sunday, I thought the woman was already dead. I hadn't seen her since I was 4 years old, shortly after my great-grandpa died.
I've no idea how to get ahold of her or her children, but have contacted the newspaper, requesting information, or at the very least, asking them to forward my info to Eddie Mae's family. I'm keeping my fingers crossed!
So anyway, if you read my blogs from last week, then you saw the photo of my father as a tot, and my grandparents.
I think it was rather odd that I was boo-hooing over the loss of a paternal grandfather, and here I'm possibly about to re-connect with a link to his father, Herschel Deutsch.
Is it irony? Fate? A premonition?
Keep your fingers crossed for me!

We're RICH!

Over the weekend, the husband relayed a conversation to me that he had had with an acquaintance of his, I'll call this man "Mo" (short for moron).
Mo, on more than one occasion, has commented to my husband that he doesn't understand why we aren't "rolling in dough" so to speak. Because we, unlike him and his wife, don't have 3 children (human children that is) in college. Mo doesn't seem to comprehend that we have a mortgage, 2 car payments, insurance, utilities, groceries, medical bills, prescriptions, etc. etc. that consume our paychecks every week, as well as our "children" to take care of.
So this most recent conversation, (mind you, these are one-sided conversations on Mo's part), Mo tried begging & pleading with my husband to listen to some radio show that told you how to invest your money and save for the future. Mo is so happy with this radio show, wishing he had tuned into it long before now. My husband is like, "yeah yeah, whatever", and finally escaped from the conversation, got in his car and drove off.
But Mo wouldn't relent. He then called my husband on his cell phone and started in on him some more... now this is the part that really TICKS ME OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...............
Mo said, "I like dogs too, but they don't have souls. They aren't children, you can't leave your money to them when you die. You can't let these dogs ruin your lives."
RUIN OUR LIVES???????
As the husband was telling me this, not only was the fury rising in my, but the tears were welling up in my eyes too. My dogs ruin my life? No, never!!!!!!!
This man is thrilled because his three human children are all out of college now. Good for him. His children gave him great joy while they were growing up, and when they start giving him grandchildren, I'm sure they'll bring him great joy too.
Oh, it's a good thing I don't have this man's phone number or address! He'd have gotten an ear full from me.
Just because my "children" have 4-legs and won't be going to college or giving me grandkids, doesn't mean I (we) love them any less. They give us great joy and comfort.
Yes, they have cost us some money over the years, either to purchase them or to feed them, or to see to their medical needs, etc., but I don't regret one second of any of my decisions regarding my children. If I had any of it to do over, I'd do it all exactly the same!!
I feel sorry for this man. I can't help but think he's a total MORON!! What right does he have to tell us what is ruining our life or what we should/shouldn't be doing with our money?
I can tell you this... I'd rather be money poor and know the love and companionship of a trusted canine child, than to have all the money in the world and be lonely.
Who says you have to leave your money to your children? Any moneys we have when we pass on, can be just as easily left to other relatives, friends, or charities.
As far as I'm concerned, John & I are richer than this man could ever hope to be.

My mother's daughter

My mother started a new job last week downtown, and this week was re-located to an office in St. Matthews, not too far from our home.
She called me earlier this week to tell me she met someone there that knew us.
Short version: one of the girls that used to work at our vet's office, now works at the office my mother works at. We'd always gotten along well with the girl and was sorry to see her leave the vet clinic, and except for one brief encounter a couple of months after her leaving, we haven't seen her in about 3 years.
My mother seemed amazed that she'd met someone that knew us (and would admit to it).
Then last night, she called me again. Before I even opened the phone to see who was calling, I got a "vibe" and told the husband, "I'll bet it's my mother". I opened my phone and sure enough!, it was mom.
She called to tell me she'd met yet another person that knew us (and would admit to it). She told me her name and I had absolutely no clue who the woman was. Yet the woman had gone on and on to my mother about all sorts of things... the church we go to on (rare) occasions, John's "surprise Socks" birthday party I threw for him last year, our dogs, etc.
I was completely mystified! Then a little light when on at the back of my brain and I turned to the husband, "Is so-&-so the woman that was hanging all over me at the funeral home the other day that I had no idea who she was?" The husand confirmed she was the one, so I told my mother about this nut-case that had clung to me when we went to visit a friend whose husband had died. I had no idea why this woman was clinging to me, I didn't remember ever having met her before. But apparently she'd known my husband for years, thru the church his dad attends.
Anyway, my mother just called to tell me that she couldn't get over having met two people in such a short time that knew us.
I said, "You didn't know we had a fan club in this end of town, did you?"
This struck her funny-bone and she told me I'd made her wet her pants.
I repeated this to my husband and he said, "well, there's no doubt now, you are your mother's daughter".

The Deutsch Family

Monroe, Martha, and little Ronald.
This is a photo of my father when he was about 3 years old, along with his parents (my Nanny & Poppy). That would make the photo circa 1951. Just wanted to share.

Everybody Loves Raymond

I've never been a fan of the show "Everybody Loves Raymond", but since it has gone into re-runs, shown on TBS, I tend to catch bits & pieces of the show now and then, simply because it comes on after "Seinfeld", which we usually watch while having dinner.
I'd never seen any episode in it's entirety, that is, until last night. And when the episode I watched went off, I found myself, not laughing as most people seem to do at this show, but sobbing uncontrollably.
My husband kept asking what was wrong with me, but I couldn't pull it together long enough to tell him. I was relating the incident to a co-worker this morning, and started sobbing all over again. Apparently I'm not over "it", and knowing myself as I do, I'll probably be sobbing yet again before I finish typing this blog.
Let me give you some background on the episode of "...Raymond" before I tell you why it affected me so.
Last nights episode had Raymond going to the grocery with his dad and daughter. The grandpa sampled some trail-mix that was in the bin, and an employee accused him of stealing. Long story short, grandpa and the employee argued, and it upset the little girl. Afterwards, she didn't want to have anything to do with him, and that upset grandpa.
Now I'll tell you why the show affected me so.
My paternal grandfather, who we called "Poppy", will have been gone from us 9 years this coming Sunday. Hard to believe it's been that long. Anyway, the last time I saw Poppy alive was on Christmas day of 1996. We were at my parents house. I was sitting on the couch, and Poppy came over and sat down beside me. I should have cherished this moment, but I didn't. Had I known he would be die unexpectedly 3 weeks later, and that I'd never see him again, I probably wouldn't have gotten so upset at his decision to sit by me.
(As predicted, my tears have started to flow yet again, for the 3rd time in less than 24 hours)
After Poppy came over and sat down next to me, he then lit up a cigarette. I'm sure he never gave it a thought about doing so in my presence (he certainly never had before), despite my well known dislike of second-hand smoke. As the cloud of cigarette smoke enveloped me and started choking me, I got up, disgusted at his smoking habit, and wondered why he couldn't have at least taken it outside? All he wanted to do was sit next to his eldest granddaughter, and all I could do was walk away from him in disgust. I never saw him again. I probably said goodbye that afternoon, I really don't remember. I'm sure I never told him that I loved him.
So that is what I've lived with for 9 years... my last memory of my grandfather was one of not wanting to be around him because he smoked.
As I watched the Raymond show, and watched how that little girl didn't want to be around her grandfather because he "sampled" at the grocery and argued with an employee, it brought nine years of guilt rushing in on me.
As I've gotten older, I always try to make a point of telling my loved-ones I love them before hanging up the phone or parting ways. Every time my husband walks out the door, whether it's to go to work, on a fire-run, or on an errand, I tell him I love him and to be careful.
It always amazes me when I listen to someone end a phone conversation with their spouse, and they don't profess their love for them, they just simply say good-bye and hang up the phone.
Tomorrow is gauranteed to no one.
Please people, tell your parents, children, spouse, etc. that you love them, each and every time you part ways. You might not get another chance.

Proposed dog-ban

I've put off long enough putting in my 2-cents worth on the proposed dog-ban in Jefferson Co.
Maybe a ban isn't quite the proper terminology, but what they are proposing amounts to the same thing.
Admittedly, I've got mixed emotions on it.
The ordnance that is proposed, in a nutshell is this: anyone owning a Pit-Bull or Rottweiler must carry a 1/2 million dollars in liability insurance on each of these dogs, must have a 7 foot high fence to keep the dog contained, and if you take the dog off of your property, it must be muzzled (as well as leashed).
A friend of mine said she had heard that they were trying to make this ordnance apply to any dog that weighed over 100 lbs.
I've not heard anything in the news to that affect, which would be total rubbish in my opinion. Pit-bulls don't generally weigh that much, and Rots are on the border-line of that weight. So why make me & my family/friends suffer that own Great Danes? When was the last time you heard of a Dane mauling someone to death?
Me personally, I'm more afraid of Cocker Spaniels and Pekingnese than I am giant-breed dogs over 100 lbs. My experience is that smaller dogs tend to be quicker to snap at your fingers. I'm also leary of dalmations, as I was bit by one in the chest as a child.
Granted, if you are bitten by a large dog, (I say IF), it's going to do some damage, but I dare say, more people are probably bitten on a daily occurance by small dogs. But because the damage is minimal from those bites, they don't get reported, therefore, no media frenzy.
Some breeds are more pre-disposed to aggression perhaps, but I think most of these "vicious" dogs are that way because of how their owners treat them, train them, house them. How many of these attacks were committed by dogs that were kept outside, chained to a doghouse 24/7? Or by dogs that had minimal contact with other people?
Some people should never be allowed to own a dog, much less raise a child, and the combination of the two together is practically a recipe for disaster.
An acquaintance of mine that owns 2 pit-bulls, and needless to say is quite distraught over this proposed ban, called several insurance companies, and has found that NONE of them will provide the needed insurance coverage that is proposed. And as far as the 7 foot fence, I'd be S.O.L. if it were passed, because our neighborhood's deed of restrictions won't allow anything over 6 foot.
These so called law-makers know this and have to know that it would be impossible for pet owners to comply with the law if passed. That means that the animal shelters would suddenly be flooded with these "dangerous" animals and that the county would then be responsible for euthanizing them. What a waste!!
Animal control doesn't even enforce the laws that are currently on the books, like the leash law, and the rabies vax, and licensing your pet. If they can't enforce these laws, what makes us think they'll be any better at enforcing the new law?

Leap of faith

Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
No, it's Eliott!!
This past weekend, I took Eliott for a little outting to his "grandma's" house. I was going there to pick up some dog food and took him along for some playtime and a bath. While he was out exploring the grounds, Genia & I were standing down in a little valley of sorts, and Eliott climbed the rock-covered embankment that leads up to the side of the kennel.
The 5 puppies came out into their run and immediately created a ruckus at the sight of their uncle standing on the other side of the chain-link divider. I fussed at him to get away from there as he was stirring up trouble.
He turned and looked at me, took two steps down the embankment (which is probably 15' or so high from the lower ground level to the upper level), then he launched himself into space.
He flew through the air with the greatest of ease. Genia and I could only watch in horror, both of us gasping at the sight of my big boy sailing through space. We both expected him to land with a thud, and expected all four legs to break upon impact.
But he fooled us and landed solidly and took off trotting.
It was a leap of faith for him I suppose. He had all the confidence in the world in his abilities.
Neither of us could imagine what possessed him to do such a thing. Perhaps he was just tired of listening to me talk about Bootsy's athletic & agile ability, and wanted to prove he had the "right stuff" too.

Something old, something new...

This weekend, I once again participated in classes at the Shamrock Acres Training facility...
Something old: Olivia is taking, yet again, the Advanced-Beginners class. You'd think by now she'd be an old hand at this. You'd think that. But you'd be wrong. No, a new group of dogs and people, so of course she acted the complete idiot. More fascinated by the new faces & smells than showing proper behavior. Grrr
Something new: Bootsy started Beginner-Agility classes. The first class was free, just to see if you liked it, and we did! At least I did. I think Bootsy did too. So I signed her up for the remaining sessions. There were so many dogs in the class, that we only had time to learn 2 apparatuses (apparati?... whatever!), the A-Frame and the Platform.
For whatever reason, the instructor chose Bootsy to go first. She was nervous and hesitant about climbing a 5 foot tall A-frame, but by the time she'd done it twice, she seemed to lose her skittishness and after the 4th time, she looked like a pro! For those of you not familiar with these apparati, the A-Frame is about 3 feet wide, and the angle is adjustable. I suppose it started off at about 4 foot at the summit, but after a couple of rounds, the instructor raised it up to about 5 foot.
The Platform is quite a bit different. It is, I guess, no more than a foot wide, probably less. The dogs go up about a four foot incline, then it levels off for about a 10 foot span that is about 2 feet off the ground, then down another 4 foot incline.
This was tougher on Bootsy because of the narrowness of the boards, as her hind feet kept slipping off. Think it's easy keeping a 110 lb. dog from falling off and landing on you?
The instructor had Bootsy, and two of the other large dogs practice on boards she laid flat on the ground. Once they were comfortable with walking on the narrow boards, we tried the platform again, and after a couple of rough starts, she did beautifully.
I can't wait 'til next weeks class!

Parking spaces

Something happened yesterday that I see happening all the time, and it really ticks me off! For years I've remained passive about it, but yesterday I finally took a stand on the issue and brought the situation to the offenders attention.
I actually thought I was rather polite about the whole thing... up until we started exchanging profanities that is. But in my defense... she started it!
I had to make a quick trip to our vets office yesterday. I've attached a diagram of the building and the parking spaces. There are 2 spaces out front, and several on either side. When I'm taking one of the dogs, I prefer the one on the side of the building (marked with XXX), because I can back up to the space and as there's a large drop-off from curb to the pavement, it makes it easy for the dog(s) to get in/out of the vehicle. If I'm taking the cats, or just running in to pick something up perhaps, then one of the spaces out front is nice.
Now, irregardless of what parking lot we're in, spaces are marked-off and painted with the intent of one vehicle per space. Don't park at an angle to "protect" your paintjob, that's a good way to get your car keyed-up. Don't pull way forward to take up 2 spaces, that's a good way to get your bumper dented. And don't park over top of the line, that's a good way to get a ding in your door. If every driver would just abide by these simple rules, there would be plenty of parking for everyone, and tempers wouldn't flair so. Besides, it's just plain old common courtesy!
All that having been said...
I pulled into the parking lot, and I noticed a blue van pulling up in front of the building (I've marked her vehicle in red on the diagram). The driver parked directly in the center, taking up 2 spaces. Granted, I didn't want either of those spaces, but it was the principle of the whole thing, it just irked me! As I drove past, I looked over at the driver as she got out and just gave her a slightly disgusted look. Not a nasty look, just disgusted. I parked my vehicle, and while I fumbled in my purse for my checkbook, she ran inside. As I was getting out of my car, she came back out and was loading dogfood into her van. As I was walking to the frontdoor I said in a tone which I felt was non-threatening, not nasty, just informative I thought. I said, "You know, there are two parking spaces there" and I left it at that and went inside.
When I came back out, she was getting into her vehicle, but paused long enough to chew me out, telling me that if I had wanted one of those spaces, all I had to do was ask and she would have moved forward, and that I didn't have to be nasty about it.
Nasty? Obviously this woman doesn't know me. (Besides, I can just imagine how the conversation would've gone had I asked her to do that. She'd have probably told me to go find another spot and things would have been ugly from the get go.)
If she wanted to see my nasty side, I could certainly have shown it to her. I felt I had been almost pleasant up to this point. I still attempted to keep it civil and remain calm and replied, "All I said is that there were 2 spaces there." I proceeded on to my vehicle, feeling that the matter was over, but she apparently wasn't through with me yet.
She got into her vehicle and rolled down the passenger window, repeating in a rather screeching way that if I had only asked, she'd have moved forward and again telling me that I didn't have to be so mean and nasty. I thought, "whatever!", and as I was reaching for my door handle, she yells at me to "Go to Hell!"
And this with her child in the van. How nice.
Well, since she obviously didn't care what her child heard, and since she was now pissing me off royally, I replied with an "Ah, #$*& $%&!"
I started getting Olivia from the car. Thank goodness my child couldn't hear this horrid conversation. I only hope that woman's child was deaf too. I thought she was driving away, but no, she obviously still wasn't done with me. She had circled around in the parking lot and pulled up next to me, rolled down her window and screamed at me, "Have a nice day!"
I replied sweetly, "Oh, I intend to!"
Is it any wonder people pull out guns and shoot each other over stupid stuff?
Okay, maybe I should've kept my mouth shut in the first place, but what makes her think that it's okay for her to take up more than the alloted parking spaces when the rest of us comply with common courtesy?
So maybe things turned a little ugly, but then also, perhaps next time she goes to park someplace, she'll think about it and park properly.

Men & shopping

I'm having issues (like that's anything new?), and it has to do with men and shopping for clothing.
Shopping isn't exactly my favorite contact-sport either, but I do it. Usually out of necessity, but I do it.
My husband however, simply refuses... for the most part that is.
If I were to say, "Honey, why don't you go buy some new work-out pants, or some more fire dept. t-shirts", well, he couldn't say "okay" fast enough.
But if I say, "Honey, you really need some new dress-slacks or shirts", well, you'd think I was suggesting he go have a proctology exam.
In the 18 years my husband & I have been together, he's had exactly 1, count 'em, ONE, new suit. And that one suit was purchased so he could be a pall bearer at my grandfather's funeral in Jan. 1997.
I think he can still squeeze into the pants, but for some reason, he hates to wear them, even though I think he looks simply smashing in them!
The coat, **sigh**, who knows if the coat fits!?!? It needed to be taken to the cleaners, and I put it in a bag and set it in a corner to await my next trip to the cleaners. Eventually it was forgotten about by humans, but discovered by one or more of the cats, as they would crawl into the bag and bed down on the coat. When the coat was remembered (a year or so later?), I was horrified at the great gobs of cat hair that were covering it. Now I'm too mortified to take it to a dry-cleaner, so the husband is without a sport-coat.
We went to a funeral yesterday afternoon, and the husband wore an oxford shirt w/a pull-over sweater. This part I had no problem with, except that he's worn that same shirt & sweater to every event (be it a dinner, church or funeral) for the past year. Even if everyone else isn't tired of seeing him in it, I am! And the pants... Eek! He wore worn-out blue cargo-pants and his tennis shoes. I was somewhat mortified!!
At lunch yesterday, he splattered food on the sweater and he commented that he needed it washed before Saturday, as he planned on wearing the same outfit to a banquet we're supposed to attend.
Oh no! Not again!!! I won't allow it!
But he claims his other sweaters make him look too fat (even though the other sweaters are the same exact size and style as the blue one he was wearing), and he didn't like the draw-string or clasp on his other cargo pants.
AARGH!!! Does he not get it? Let's try dressing up once in a while! On the way home from the funeral I told him I was taking him shopping. I could literally see him puckering up and squirming in his seat at the prospect of trying on nice clothes. I think he'd rather have had that proctology exam after all.
The only thing that saved him was that I didn't have my credit card with me. Know what that means? I got to go out last night and pick out clothes for him (as he was at fire training), then take them home so he could try them on and most likeley reject everything I picked out, so that I could then go and return the rejected clothes.
I picked out 5 or 6 new shirts, 3 new ties, and 4 or 5 new pairs of pants. In varying colors, patterns, and sizes, so hopefully he'll be able to find something to wear before Saturday.
Keep your fingers crossed for me folks!