The Death of Me

Hard to believe I wrote this in 2013, but there you go. Skip and Oliver are still with me, along with eight other pets who have also almost caused my death at one time or another.

I adore my pets, but I have little doubt they’re going to be the death of me.

Skip, Nellie & Callie
Skip, Nellie and Callie
Oliver
Oliver

You see, they’re determined to trip and kill me. You wouldn’t think animals would have a sinister side to them, would you? Well, I’m beginning to wonder. It can’t be a coincidence that it keeps happening, can it?

If you have animals, you know what I’m talking about. In my pets’ attempt to either get my attention, race me wherever I’m headed, or stick to me like glue because they adore me (yeah, right), I rarely make it through a day without avoiding a face-plant or near-death stumble.

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No Time For Boredom

Here’s a post from June, 2017…enjoy!

According to the Census Bureau, I live alone. I, however, beg to differ. Yeah, I’m currently the only 2-legged being in my household but by no means do I live alone. Not if you count 4 dogs, 4 cats and an array of foster kittens. But furry things don’t count with census takers.

Census taker

As you know, I frequently blog about my animals. After all, they give me lots to write about. One of the 8 often does something either ridiculously adorable or exceedingly frustrating…it’s a continual cycle of entertainment.

Consequently, I am never bored. Who has time for that? I’d need to pencil it into my schedule: Sunday, August 6, noon-1:00: BE BORED. I must admit it might be nice to have that luxury. When I’m not out wrangling kitties or on the tennis court, I’m at home attempting to work through my never ending honey-do list. And I’m the honey that do.

Honey do list

Now don’t get me wrong; I hire help whenever I can’t figure something out, which is rather often. And my neighbor Paul, Mr. Handyman, is always lending a hand or a tool. And lucky for me he has every tool ever invented. Continue reading

The Gizmo Chronicles

My friend’s daughter got married yesterday. Since I volunteered to make desserts for the day-after brunch for 45 people, I spent most of the last two days in the kitchen. (This is my way of saying I didn’t write.) Instead, here’s a post I barely remember from 2014, so it’s new to me and should be for you as well!

I pet-sat while my friends vacationed on a cruise in Alaska. Here’s excerpts from my journal for them, chronicling Gizmo’s stay with me…

DAY 1

Snuggled on the sofa tonight watching tennis on TV. Gizmo’s obviously partial to the women’s game, as she slept through most of the men’s matches. Very astute canine.

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Welcome To My World

I’ve had the same family room furniture for what feels like forever. Granted, I have a horrendous memory, but the sofa, easy chair, and ottoman are like old friends who have overstayed their welcome and now it’s time to say goodbye. Hum…I wonder why they’re called easy chairs, or ottomans, for that matter? But I digress…

I believe my Broyhill furniture could very likely be the winner of who produces items meant to last longer than we actually want them to. When my fridge and dryer died WAY before their time, I wasn’t a happy camper. But when my family room furniture ran its course, it didn’t have the decency to fall apart.

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Observations on the Ridiculous, Chapter 2

Because of a crazy busy week, I’m re-posting from May 25, 2014. I’m certain you won’t remember it since I barely did myself, but then I’m known for my poor memory. Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

The ridiculous continues. Here are this month’s 7 picks…

My ridiculous dog, Nellie

Nellie

1. My dog Nellie. The last 3 times I’ve walked my Greyhound she’s chosen to stop at the same house to do her business. That wouldn’t be so bad if her business wasn’t comprised of a load of disgustingly runny poop. (Hope you aren’t eating right now.)

poop bags To make matters worse, the homeowners are always out front. What are the odds? I do carry poop bags and always clean up after my dogs but still, this is getting ridiculous. Try as I might to coax her over to the next house (where those homeowners have the good sense not to be home), one simply cannot budge a pooping Greyhound once she becomes so inclined. I believe it’s time to change our walking route. Continue reading