Good Friends

This is Elliot's buddy. When the two of them are together outside we let them off their leashes to frolic. They play tag. They romp. They explore. Coco has taught Elliot the fine art of squirrel hunting and bug digging. Elliot keeps Coco in shape by attacking her which in turn gets them running.

They both know when the other is outside or passing by the house. Coco will bark. Elliot will howl. They must be together at least once a day or they have withdrawal symptoms. They are good neighbors and even better friends.

Out of the mouths of my babes

We were eating dinner the other night with a friend of mine who has a 22-year-old son and two children under the age of 8. She received a phone call from her older son and was wondering why he was calling her. He said he was just calling to talk, but as he talked she kept wondering why he was calling. Later, explaining this to us, we were joking about our younger children and how it would be when they got older and left the house.

SueG: You wait until Madison leaves to go to college. You'll see then.

Me: Madison isn't ever going to leave me. She tells me that all the time.

SueG: Yeah, right, well the other one is certainly going to test you. Darcy? Darcy, when you are 18 you're going to go away to college, aren't you?

Darcy: I don't exactly see the point of discussing this right now since I'm only 10.

SueG: I know you are, but I'm talking about when you get older. You'll want to go away to college, right?

Darcy: I don't even know of any colleges...well, besides Harvard and Yale.

Elliot's Dinner

I told the kids to not throw out their cupcake/muffin wrappers. When they asked why I told them it was dinner for the dog.

The problem with a sweet tooth

Darcy, my youngest, has a sweet tooth (like her mother and grandmother). If there is chocolate or sugar around she can smell it. If she has money in her pocket it is spent on candy. If she has a few minutes for lunch she will eat her dessert first.

Once my husband poured some M and M's in a bowl inside my china cabinet while Darcy was in the shower.

Tom: "Let's see how many days it takes her to find these."

Darcy: "Days? It will take her exactly 30 seconds to spot that. She will come out of the shower wrapped in a towel. She will look at herself in the mirror of the china cabinet while dancing. She will then spot M and M's."

It happened just like I said. She smiled at her reflection while shimmying her shoulders, then suddenly her eyes widened, her tongue moved across her lips, and she moved slowly toward the candy dish salivating. It was more like 10 seconds.

We found this photo of Darcy while looking through some old photo albums. It explained a lot about her obsession. Just look at those eyes!

This weekend my husband purchased this:

It was lying on the kitchen counter when Darcy strolled through.

Darcy: "These mints don't look too good, but I'll try them anyway!"

Madison: "Uh, Darcy? Those are for the dog."

Monday Musings

• Where has the year gone already? It is almost March and I haven't accomplished anything I said I would get done before spring. My list keeps getting bigger and bigger. I wish I had help.

• Why can't I get out birthday gifts on time? I had 4 gifts to send out in two months and I still haven't gotten them sent out. The gift I really wanted to send my sister-in-law was a plane ticket to Florida for a week so she could help me with the projects I need to finish. But then would that really be a gift? Would someone take care of her children?

• Wouldn't it have been great if no one had shown up to Tiger Wood's "apology"?

• Why is my memory going? I forgot to send out birthday stuff. I forgot to pay my bill. I forgot what I wanted to get my two friends for upcoming birthdays. I forgot to blog.

• What is it my dog is asking of me when he barks and pushes his nose into my thigh? I just took him out for a walk and a potty break. What more does he want? Can't he just go somewhere in the house and be a dog? A dog who leaves me be?

• Why can't the Olympics start earlier in the evening?

• Why do I have all of this stuff in my house? Where did it come from? Do I even really need it?

• Will I ever catch up on my television watching? I'm 5 hours behind in American Idol for heaven's sake!

• Should I just go take a nap? I had a crappy week and a crappy weekend and my body is crying out for sleep. Is this denial? Is this depression? Or am I just tired?

Dog vs. cupcake wrapper

As if I don't have enough going on in my life, today while sitting at my computer answering emails and planting a few crops, my dog got into the trash can under my desk and grabbed the paper wrapper from a muffin I had devoured.

I had just disposed of it, nonchalantly while I worked, but it had no sooner dropped into the can and it was in the jaws of my puppy. Who immediately took off running, me at his heels, chewing frantically, gobbling it down his gullet as if his life depended on it.

By the time I had a treat to exchange with him, the wrapper was gone.

I told myself to remain calm. Do not panic.

What to do? What to do?

First, I tried calling my dog expert friend Kelly. When I got no answer there, I turned to the Internet and posted my dilemma on my Facebook account, hoping against hope for immediate help. When that too proved, futile, I Googled, dog eating a cupcake wrapper.

Thank god, help at last.

Several websites assured me that dogs are dumb as shit and will eat anything and everything, but that paper cupcake wrappers will pass on through their delicate little systems and be waiting in their poop in the next day or so.

What a relief! But because I didn't entirely believe these websites, certain my puppy eating a cupcake wrapper was a much greater issue than any other cupcake wrapper eating puppy in the history of the universe, I kept on reading.

And found David D.'s response to this very question on yahoo answers: (I took the liberty of a little editing)

• Assuming from your question, your dog ate ONLY the wrapper, feed your dog an approved chocolate cupcake substitute (no wrapper) immediately if not sooner! Be sure and feed her a choc. substitute as chocolate really is not a good food for your dog, especially if she is white, as it has a tendency to turn her fur a chocolate color. Don't worry about the little amount on the inside of the wrapper as that small amount will not harm her. It will probably only make her horny.

When I got to the third sentence of this paragraph, I was seriously annoyed. Do people not have better things to do then to be smart asses? This poor person - like myself - was asking the Internet gods for help and instead, she receives these racists answers?

I did, however, keep reading and when I got to the second sentence in the second paragraph, I spat out any and all remaining muffin bits lurking in my mouth because I was laughing my head off. I admit it. I went from annoyance to laughter in two seconds flat.

• Hopefully, the cupcake will mate with the wrapper and the dog will "poop" them both out....the cupcake wrapped in its original wrapper. I'll leave it up to your discretion as to whether you want to serve it to your guests. Also, store it in a place your dog can't get at it in order to save you from the same problem! As for your dog, no, she will not die, However, it's up to you to follow her around waiting for that precious little "package" to appear!"

Although I still think David D. needs something more to fill his time.

As for my dog, he appears quite normal. It reminds me of the story a co-worker told of his dog eating a tube sock and how he hadn't a clue his dog had done this until the day his dog pooped out the tube sock completely intact.

I am now going to anxiously await the day of the cupcake/muffin wrapper poop, and just because I know everyone will wonder, I shall photograph it. Stay tuned!

Update: My dog did poop out the wrapper the next day, and no, I did not take pictures. I think the wrapper added some much-needed fiber, and I'm wondering if this might be a solution to constipation. I might consider it if he is ever unable to poop, a problem I have yet to notice.

Here, however, is the bottom line for people who have found this blog entry through Google and need the truth and not some smart-ass, wise-cracking David D answer:

 Don't worry about the cupcake wrapper your dog just ate. It will do him/her no harm. 

Good-bye Mrs. Teacher

Monday night we received word one of the teachers at our school had resigned. She happens to be the most influential teacher in the upper grades and single-handedly started up the program my eldest has followed for the last four years. Rumors were flying, and the girls and I spent Monday night on our phones speculating the whys and the why-nots. Tuesday morning, we all stood on the school grounds in the forty-degree weather, gabbing and gossiping. To no avail. In the end, nothing changed. The teacher is still gone.

Being a part of a small private school is like living with all of your relatives and your husband's relatives and each one of their relatives in one house. Everyone thinks they know everyone else's business and feelings, and if they don't, well then, they make it up. Nothing is a secret because there is always a mole. Somehow, somewhere, the leak gets sprung and the secret oozes out into the masses, who then take it and run.

Most of the time I'm fired up about those leaks and the people who are running with it. I get caught up in the craziness and the paranoia. This time; however, I just felt nothing in the beginning. I got the news from a parent via phone. While she was stirred up, screaming and ranting, and pulling out her hair, I just listened and made noises. While some parents cried and ran around looking for other schools, I went out to lunch with a girlfriend.

It wasn't until last night that I began to feel anything. My body was tired and my eyes were sore and red, but mostly my heart was sad. I felt betrayed by this teacher. She had been off the previous week and since that had never occurred before, I texted her to make sure all was right. She responded and told me she would be back next week, adding the dreaded "LOL" at the end of her text. How dare she not tell me all was not well.

Upon closer examination, along with texting with another parent, I realized this is one of the problems. Our children's' teachers are not our friends, nor are they our employees.

Teachers work for our children. And my children were handling the announcement just fine. While they liked this teacher, respected her, and will miss her greatly they were intact. They knew what to do without her, how to carry on with what she had left them, and they were confident all would right itself out eventually. That what this teacher gave them. She molded them and taught them to carry on without her.

For that I am grateful.

Looking for some winter wear

Florida has been cold since December. We've had a handful of days in the '70s, which is unusual. In the umpteen years, I have lived here it has never been this cold this long. We've even had had freezing temperatures in the twenties. Farmers are loosing their crops. The winds have been crazy, the kind of horrible, biting winds that cut right through the body. My cheeks have been permanently red for days and it isn't from sunburn.

This Friday it snowed in northern Florida.

My Steelers jacket has gotten more wear out of it than ever before. My youngest daughter finally pulled her ski jacket out of the bin in the closet because her other jackets weren't keeping her warm enough. We live in jeans and sweaters instead of shorts and T'shirts. Our grass is brown. Our trees are brown. Our fruit is frozen. We could ice skate on top of our pool...okay maybe a slight exaggeration.

Today I went into Target to buy my oldest daughter long pants. She hates wearing jeans so she wanted some long exercise pants or sweats. Instead, we found bikinis, shorts, flip flops and swimsuit cover-ups. We searched frantically on the clearance rack to no avail because everyone in Florida had been there ahead of us and snatched up what winter clothes were once available. Usually, I'm whining about the sweaters that are sold. This time I'm whining because I can't find any.

Our friends and relatives in the north hate our griping. They know the cold weather won't last. We know it won't last. We know that soon the warmth will be back. We even know we will bitching about the heat come summertime. But for now, while we are slowly freezing in the south for the third month in a row, could we at least get some long clothing?

Good fences make good neighbors

My mother was, and still is, a big Robert Frost fan. She met him once and we grew up with her reciting his poetry almost weekly. In school we studied his poetry, discussing why "good fences make good neighbors". While I understood his concept, I didn't really get it.

I grew up in a wonderful neighborhood in Indiana. We knew our neighbors. We socialized with our neighbors, we celebrated with our neighbors and even vacationed with our neighbors. Those neighbors who worked knew those staying at home would watch out for their properties and their children.

We knew our neighbors by name and most times even those of their relatives. When someone new moved into the neighborhood, adults and kids made sure to welcome them. If there ever was a problem between neighbors, they talked it out. Everyone in our neighborhood roamed from one yard to another. If a neighbor's yard worked the best for the day's activity, that's where we played. No need to inquire of the owners, we knew it was fine.

The unspoken rule in our neighborhood: What's mine is yours.

There were no fences in my neighborhood.

Moving into our neighborhood in Florida, I was shocked when no one introduced themselves. I was even more shocked by how no one waved when we passed by on foot or in a car and how each yard had a fence. It took several months and new neighbors moving in before our neighborhood became friendly.

We replaced the wooden fence in our backyard with a chain link fences so we could see and talk to our neighbors behind us. We even put in a gate when we discovered the neighbors behind us had a daughter a few days younger than Madison.

Our street became one of the few in our neighborhood association where the board didn't receive complaints mainly because we worked together to solve problems. While our neighborhood isn't anything like the one in Indiana, I can honestly say that I won't leave my current house because of the great neighbors I have surrounding me.

Then along came Elliot.

He isn't the first dog in the neighborhood. All of my surrounding neighbors have dogs. Most of them have had dogs for over ten years, and while I wasn't a dog person I put up with the barking and growling and jumping, and never said a word when a dog would enter my house while accompanying its owner.

Now that we have joined the ranks of dog ownership (not by my choice, may I remind everyone) and now because we have a puppy who is more rambunctious and eager at spying the other dogs, apparently he's too much for one of my neighbors.

This became apparent when she came outside to tell me the following:

Her: "He is too rambunctious and our dog is too old to have your dog barking and coming over. She isn't getting her business taken care of in the morning and we can't have that."

Me: "So, what would you suggest I do?"

Her: "Well, our dog does her business between 7:30 and 8:30 in the morning so Elliot can come outside after that."

While not happy with her tone, we adjusted Elliot's morning routine. We began taking him in the backyard if he needed out between those hours and we waited to walk him until after her dog had returned from her morning walk.

The next confrontation came after Elliot and the dog on the other side of her became friends. They frolic together, chasing each other from one yard to the next which means they run through her yard as she sits in the middle of the two of us.

Her: "Why can't you take him to a dog park and let him run around?" she asked me. When I explained that my dog has car sickness she turned her head and huffed. I was told to train him to stay in his own yard.

Me: "Oh, our vet told us not to take him to a dog park until he is older. Besides, I can't imagine how we'd get him to a place to run because Elliot really, really hates being in a car. It's the craziest thing."

Her: "Well, every time Elliot is outside, our dog barks and we can't have that."

Me: "Uh..."

Suddenly, my neighbor refuses to acknowledge me. If she is in her car, she drives past me as if I'm invisible. If I wander am outside when she is outside, she immediately turns and goes inside. Yesterday afternoon I went outside to walk Elliot and she and her unleashed dog were in her yard. I called hello and she bent over to pick up something, giving me her backside.

Apparently, she is right and I am wrong.

So much for any past relationship we had. It has now ended because of our puppy. Who truly doesn't even pay attention to her dog.

Now, I understand Robert Frost.

Chatting away about everything and anything

After Madison was born, I took her out and about in the stroller to the mall or in her infant seat to the grocery store and I always talked to her. I talked to her as if she had an opinion and would let me know it. I discussed our weekly night menu options. I'd ask how she liked an item, holding it up for her perusal. Once while at the mall in the Sears baby section, a lady peered around the rack of clothes and to stare down at baby Madison.

Her: "My goodness, I thought you were talking to yourself, but I see you aren't. Still...she's a little young isn't she, to understand what you're saying?"

Me: (smiling) "I believe she does understand, and if she doesn't know, someday she will."

The woman rolled her eyes and left me in peace, and I continued, keeping that woman in mind, to always chatter away when with Madison.

Me: "Do you see that outfit in the window? Do you like it? Which color? Pink? Blue?"

Me: "The weather is nippy so let's pull out the long sleeve shirts today."

Me: "Do you want a bath now or do you want to wait for Daddy?"

By the time Madison was talking she was full of questions. She asked, why. She asked what things were or who did what, and I always told her, constantly teaching. her things asking, I never second-guessed my early one-sided conversations with her.

This morning while walking the dog I noticed I do the same with Elliot. I ask him questions and when he stops and tilts his head at something I explain what it is. For example, this morning we passed a neighbor removing blankets off his shrubs. We exchanged good mornings and several comments regarding the cool weather, and as Elliot sat and stared I explained:

Me: "He covered his shrubs to protect them from the cold just like Auntie Bonnie did with her bushes and shrubs. Now, he's taking them off to feel the sun. Come on, let's see who else covered their trees."

I could feel the neighbor's eyes on me as we continued down the street, Elliot prancing and me pointing out other covered bushes and commenting on them aloud to my dog. I just know he was rolling his eyes or perhaps wondering where I lived in his neighborhood so he could avoid the area.

To me, this dog is like having another child. I sort of suspected it would be, but I didn't realize how VERY much it would resemble it. Now that I've figured it out, I treat the dog the same way I treated my children. I talked to both of them from the moment they were born so I'm talking to the dog. 

People may think I'm nuts, but the way I see it is...hey, at least I'm not an old lady talking to my cat! (Sorry Kelly)

2010 Super Bowl Snippets

• The onside kick to start off the second half was brilliant. The Colts could not, and perhaps chose not, to get a first down with 34 seconds left in the first half thinking instead of the second half first possession. That in itself made the onside kick that much more powerful. Kudos to Sean Payton for going for it.

• I would have enjoyed watching the end of the game celebration instead of some new show that CBS was touting. I know that keeping an audience is crucial for a new show, but could we finish up the one we just watched? 

• Because of #2, I missed the whole Peyton Manning walked off the field without shaking hands controversy. I have my own opinion on that (we teach you in youth sports to shake hands), but when I read that Peyton later called Drew Brees to congratulate him, I thought, "what do they talk about on the phone?"

• The commercials I enjoyed: Snickers with Betty White, Google's search, and of course, truTV's Punxsutawney Polamalu.

• A thought that crossed my mind: I'm old enough that I now recognize those entrants into the NFL Hall of Fame.

• After all the hype over Tim Tebow and his mother's commercial, it turned out to be pretty mild. Perhaps he was concerned at the backlash or the hit he was sure to take from fans. I thought the commercial was funny, although confusing if you didn't know the background, which I guess was what the organization was hoping for, so then people would log onto the website for more information.

• I thought it interesting after all the bets circulating about how many times CBS would show Archie Manning, Eli Manning, and Kim Kardashian that the cameramen went out of their way to NOT show them.

• I said way back in another blog that undefeated teams needed to lose to win. The Saints did just that. Remember...Peyton Manning and company were taken out of the games the Colts lost. Not the same thing.

• I wonder if Brett Favre felt just a tad better after the Super Bowl?

• What will I do without football on Sundays? I hope the league gets things straightened out next year so that we don't have a lockout in 2011. I'm not sure I could handle life if that happened.

Susan's Birthday Movie 2010

I did this last year, and since the camera loves her I figured I'd do it again this year...(and because her card and gift will be late)

Happy Birthday, Susie Q!

The cone of shame

The surgery so Elliot can date the female dogs in our neighborhood without fear of fathering a litter has happened. To keep him from biting his stitches, he must wear a cone that circles his head, keeping it, so his mouth is unable to get much more than his food.

I'm sure he is wondering how it came to this. One minute he was in the car heading toward someplace new and the next minute he woke up to with an object around his head that keeps catching on everything - the furniture, every door jamb in the house, and even in his own crate.

He keeps giving us pitiful looks as if to say, "Why? What did I do to deserve this abomination?"

We tell him he is in good company, and we show him this picture of the dog, Dug, in the recently Oscar-nominated film, Up: 

I think of this movie each time Elliot, and I walk around the neighborhood. But, all in all, Elliot has adjusted quite well and is healing nicely. He only has the cone of shame for a few days until he has his follow-up visit with the surgeon. Fingers crossed, the cone will never make another reappearance after this.

The birds and the bees thanks to the dog

Children who grow up on farms don't need to have any talk regarding sex because they see it firsthand from beginning to end. Animals are a great way to learn about nature's course, and our dog was how my youngest learned about the birds and the bees.

Our dog is a male. As he matures, he has taken to loving his bed in ways that make my eldest cringe. Lucky for us, his bed is his only girlfriend at the moment, but recently he carried his bed into the middle of the living room where we were watching American Idol, and he went to town.

Me: "Ah, jeez, Elliot, could you go someone private?"

Darcy: "What's he doing?"

Me: "He's humping his bed again."

Darcy: "What does that mean?"

Me: "It means that to answer that question, we will have to have the talk."

Darcy: "What talk?"

Me: "The coming of age talk about babies and things."

Darcy: "But what is he doing to the bed? What does humping mean?"

Me: "It means he is pushing his penis into his bed because it feels good."

Darcy: "I don't want to have that talk."

Me: "Good, let's just watch the show."

That lasted for almost a week. On Monday, Darcy and I were having a conversation in her room when Elliot wandered into the room, his girlfriend bed in his mouth.

Me: "I can't wait until we get him fixed on Friday."

Darcy: "What does that mean?"

Me: "It means he won't be able to have any babies."

Darcy: "Yeah, Elliot is a male and can't have babies anyway, can he?"

Me: "That is true, but by getting fixed, he won't be able to be a father."

Darcy: "Why?"

I began the talk.

By the time I was finished, I had answered fifty million questions, including the following:

Darcy: "You and Daddy don't do that, do you?"

Me: "We had two children, Darcy, of course, we do."

Darcy: "But you only did it two times, right?"

Me: "Well, no."

Darcy: "But you don't do that when Madison and I are at home, do you?"

Me: "Uh..."

Darcy: And how do men and women even do that? I mean, do they stand up?"

Everything is always easier the second time around. I feel like I handled this talk better than the one I had with Madison. I was more prepared this time around, and Elliot gave me not only an opening but also a model.

Darcy was very interested and full of questions. She wasn't thrilled about the act itself and announced she had no plans to participate ever, but she was very curious. I was very open and answered everything honestly. Then we both moved on to other things.

But later that night, when she was lying across my chest, I hugged her and kissed her more than I usually do.

Me: "I don't know why, but ever since we had the talk, I feel like you aren't my little baby anymore."

Darcy: "Please, Mom, you know how my hearing is. I pretty much let that go in one ear and out the other. We're good."

Tiling Job #2

On Wednesday, Don tore up the old kitchen flooring at the same time as our roofers began putting on the new flat roof. The noise was deafening. Don used a jackhammer with an attachment to pull up the parquet that was in the kitchen. The roofers banged around loudly overhead, and Elliot became my new best friend, snuggling on the couch, his head beneath my body.

It took two days for the roof over the dining room. It took Don an extra day to finish the kitchen tiling. I told him to take his time since having the stove, and the refrigerator in the middle of the room meant no cooking. Although, by the time the kitchen job was finished, I was burned out on restaurants.

Now, I don't like the Crest toothpaste wall color in my kitchen. It doesn't match the floor. I think I'll repaint it the same color as the dining room. Keep the two eating areas the same.

Of course, then the countertops won't match. Goodness, but one remodel leads to another. It is an endless task. By the time we finish all of our projects on our list, it will be time to start over...

Tiling Room #1

The tile work on my floors began despite the death of my father-in-law and despite our various illnesses. The tile man is my neighbor, Don, who owns a flooring and blind company, and he arrived at our door, coughing and hacking and sounding very much like me. He assured me he was good to go, and I assured him I was good to have him here, and so he began tearing up the carpet in the old library-soon-to-be-dining room.

We crammed the furniture, the books, and knick-knacks into the playroom, and closed it off. To keep the dog out of Don's hair while he worked, Elliot was either crated or with us in our bedrooms. By Saturday, the tile was spread out on the floor in a diamond layout, and by the next week, it was grouted with a color I made him choose. We love how it turned out.

While Don was busy with the tile, I spent three days searching for the paint chip I had used years ago in the library. Because I couldn't remove the bookcases back then, the area behind them was never painted. Now, the bookshelves have been removed, and I figured now was a great time to render that mistake. The only problem was I didn't have any leftover paint. I had extras of every other color I've used in my house, but not that particular color.

None of the chips I brought home from Lowe's and Home Depot matched. Eventually, I peeled off an area where there was a small glob of collected paint and took that with me to the store where I found it! I knew it was correct when I read the name of the color, Nature's Retreat. That was it! I remembered teasing my friend about the title as we'd painted the library long ago. I bought some paint and slapped it on the wall.

Then, I turned the library into a dining room...with books. I took down my photos from the inset in the wall and replaced it with glasses and decorative liquor bottles.

Then I went through all of my books and weeded them out so that I could have room for the pictures and the knick-knacks to make it look more like a dining area.

I read in a magazine a few months ago a trick for shelving books in two rows, and I followed the method of using empty aluminum foil and/or Saran boxes for the first row. The second row of books covers the cardboard, and because they are on the shelf lower than the first row of books, both can be seen. I liked the results. I also like the way the room turned out.

I also incorporated this shelving unit that Roger built when Tom was young. It fit perfectly in the opposite corner of the room.

Now I just need a table!