Discoveries from the Chersterfield

My husband actually called the couch a chesterfield this week and he hasn’t even been watching Downton Abbey.  I believe it was a Canadian flashback for him.  I remember my Canadian grandparents using that term for the sofa, but not my husband!

Meanwhile, back on the chesterfield, I have made several life altering discoveries.

1.  Healing takes time.  Time allows you to think and write and read, all activities that tend to get brushed to the sidelines during a busy schedule.  I have missed writing.  I need to carve out some time to express myself with written words.  It brings me joy…. and I like joy.  It’s one of my favorite things, but not exactly in a brown paper package tied up with string. (Name that movie song.)

2.  My daughter and my niece hand picked lovely yellow and purple wildflowers, placed them in jars and brought them to my coffee table that holds everything I could possibly use while on the couch.  I have spent long moments watching little bugs crawl all over the sunny blooms.  A bit of wildlife right here in the living room.

3.  Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy. (Name that artist.)  My front yard blooms are in their glory mode and I have spent time each day sunning myself next to their colorful display: royal blue lobelia, cadmium snap dragons and pansies, hot pink, pale pink, variegated and snow white Sweet Williams, four shades of purples in pansies, violets and violas, and a salmon pink geranium that has yet to open its glowy blooms for my pleasure.  Vitamin D is a glorious bonus.  My nature journal is calling to me to capture the array of colors.

4.  I am the sole individual who wipes out the microwave.  Sad but true.  Come on over and have a looksie at a week’s worth of blown up food bits.

5.  Ringo the wiener dog eats orange foamy earplugs.  Disgusting.

6.  I truly am a night owl.  Even on narcotics, my best hours are from 11:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m.  However, this was aided by a total of six hours of napping today.

I pray you are blessed with a full night of restful sleep while I am uninterrupted on the chesterfield.

Dr. Doolittle, I Think Not

Never have I been accused of being an animal lover.  We had a few pets during my childhood in suburbia Northern California, but never a dog and only once for a short time, a cat.  The kitty caused my brother’s eyes to swell shut, so she didn’t stay long at all.  But I did have the joy of picking out Meow Mix back in the day when the Meow Mix song was popular, hence making me popular. I was nine, it didn’t take much.

Fast forward to  my ten-year-old daughter praying every night that God would change her mother’s heart (ME!) so that she could get a dog.  I about coughed up a lung the first time I witnessed her heartfelt petition to the God of the universe.  Anyway, the two-year vigil ended with God changing my heart… and for the past 9.5 years we have had Trixie, the Rat Terrier burrowing into our hearts and lives.

Foolishly I read Dr. Doolittle to my children years ago.  Unmistakably, that was a cockamamie move on my part. Yes, we did do a stint with younger boys who NEEDED tadpoles, then frogs of course, lizards, mice, a hamster named Teddy, chickens, fish, turtles, and a hermit crab named Elvis.  Truly I felt that I did my time.  Of course there were requests for a horse.  Thankfully we live in an HOA that doesn’t allow for horses.

Then Christmas 2011 did me in.  It was December 23rd at 10:15 p.m. and my husband and I were sitting on the blue couch when my cell phone notified me of the arrival of a message.  Who would be texting me that late?  Of course it was a friend who had a friend who had a baby wiener dog FREE for Christmas.  Good grief.  We were sitting ducks.  The next day I called another friend who got a baby wiener dog for Christmas the previous year and DIDN’T keep it!  I gave her all my reasons for not taking the free dog, and she solved each dilemma as it arose…. we would need a crate.  She had one.  We would need a doggy door.  She had one.  And her reason for returning the puppy was because she was never home to train it….. she pointed out that we are ALWAYS home.  We homeschool.  We don’t leave the premises unless it is for church or a library trip.  So we got sucked into Ringo the wiener dog who has been snuggling with us for over a year now.

I still cannot believe I have two dogs.  Linda Ann Crosby… NOT a dog person, has two dogs, and probably will have two dogs for another five to seven years.  Unbelievable!  I can hardly believe I am writing a blog about dogs.  I am not a dog person.  Didn’t I already say that?

So the moral of the story is DON’T READ DR. DOOLITTLE to your kids if you truly want to do little.  BAM!

Me and Bob Barker are like this X!

That was my fingers crossed, in case you were wondering about the X.  You remember from The Price is Right…. at the end of every show when Bob looks into the camera and says….

Well, we took Bob’s advice… against Ringo’s wishes.  There will be no baby wiener dogs sired from this house anymore.  I made the appointment for a Saturday morning… when I was out of town.  (See?  I’m the nice mom AND the smart mom!)  I left detailed instructions and came home to Mr. Weeney wearing the cone of shame.  He was a little whiny, but not bad.  Pain medicine in peanut butter was a slam dunk of a hit!  Come to find out, he also had baby teeth that were four months late in falling out so those were pulled too.  Rough day in doggy land.  Both ends.

Ringo is very loving… but not so bright.  Today was day #6 with the cone of shame and he is still running to the doggy door only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the cone that doesn’t fit through the door.  And to make matters worse, yesterday was his first birthday.  Nora asked if she could make him a puppy cake.  So sweet, but no.  She did pick out a chewy, noise-making stuffed raccoon for Ringo.  But it terrified the dog!  Made us all laugh.  Our other dog, Trixie, loved the raccoon and claimed the birthday gift as her own.

(Side note:  never in my first 35 years did I ever imagine that I would be a dog owner…. or blog the words “our OTHER dog”.  Inconceivable!)

And so, Ringo continues to slam the backs of our legs for four more days of doggy cone duty.  Never a dull moment in this house.

At least he can hold his chewy rawhide bone.

Preparing for U.S. History

This is one of my favorite activities, even though it consumes my Mondays and Tuesdays every week.  That is also why there are usually no posts on here Mondays and Tuesdays… but a few occurences are worth mentioning today… as I step away from the Civil War for ten minutes.

1.  My 15-year-old son has been growing out his hair for a long time.  Yesterday he asked me a question I NEVER thought I’d hear… “Mom, do you know how to cut my hair in a mullet?”  What in the world?  It’s been 25 years since I’ve done a mullet, but I believe I remember how.  And then it happened… I was transported back to college in 1985… mullets everywhere.  The mullet went down a little rustier than planned (in fact I need to do some repair work tonight) but it made us all laugh until we cried.

 

2.  My 15-year-old son got some running TOE shoes.  What in the world?  They are red with black rubber on the bottom…. with a little strap just like Mary Jane’s to hold them on his hairy feet.  He’s been wearing them around the house all day “breaking them in”… for what, I’m not sure.  Maybe running.  But he’s a cyclist.

3.  Ringo the wiener dog is brain-dead when it comes to house/potty training.  Seriously… brain DEAD.  This will take a LOT of diligent work.  He also tried to chew the back of the Ethan Allen rocking chair.  Not good.  We initiated the use of the spray bottle today.  All I have to add is he’s lucky he’s so cute.

4.  Buying SparkNotes from Barnes & Noble online is cheaper and quicker than running down to the store to buy them.  Don’t tell my American History students, please.  A few clicks…. 44 printed pages… and BAM… I’m smarter than a 5th grader.

That is all for now.  Peace out!

It’s a Wienerful Day!

Mr. Wienie arrived yesterday and two girls are VERY excited about having a new puppy.  They named him Ringo Max Crosby, after two great male musicians and a make-up brand.  Perfect.  To make it even more perfect Gymboree had a wiener dog line of clothing out!  :o) 

So far this is a timid little doggy that is submitting to our first dog, Trixie, quite nicely.  He doesn’t know how to bark yet, but oh can he whine when we put him in the crate.  Crate training is not for the faint of heart.  Nor for those who don’t like to wear earplugs. 

He is just darling when he runs and jumps.  We only had a little black collar with rhinestones on it… so a more masculine collar along with an engraved tag are the order of the day tomorrow. 

Ringo has already had eleven visitors and everyone made sure they pet Trixie!  Such thoughtful friends!

Larisa has wanted a dachshund puppy for YEARS.  I’m not even sure how many years.  Lots.  Needless to say, she is one happy camper.