Blog Archives
The best laid plans…
I’d planned to move bricks to build the new garden area yesterday. That didn’t happen.
Instead, for some odd reason, I washed dog bedding and bathed a certain little Lucy dog. Just as well, since she’s off to see the vet on Friday for her follow-up.
Next time that Mommy person puts dis wed baving suit on me I will hide.
You haz bedder habs a cookie for me Daddy person.
I am tired…
Right after I finish posting this, I am going to go take a nice shower. I can’t stand myself. Why? Well, I worked my buns off cutting down and putting all the vines from the shed in trash bins.
The vines were top-heavy and pulled the trellis down along with the drip guard of the shed.
Four big bins worth. I topped the bins off with a couple of tulip poplar branches that were over the hood of my van. Maybe now the birds will stop pooping on it.
Bedtime around here is always a hoot
Behind me, one of those crates is bouncing about. Yep, you’d be right if you guessed the grey one with the little girl in it. She’s fixing her bedding for the night.
She just did a wild hucklebutt moments before ending with her piling into her crate and then sticking her head out to make sure I knew she was ready for bed.
Gavin just barks at me to cover his crate. LOL! What a pair they are.
You all have a good one!
Too hot for him to handle
Ninety degrees yesterday. This meant I had a ‘jolt me out of a sound sleep give me a headache to start my day’ phone call from The Curmudgeon to say he couldn’t walk well enough to take care of Gavin but Lucy was done. I’m happy he tried but unhappy that he probably would have been able to do both dogs had he just worn his ice vest to keep him cool.
Why didn’t he wear his ice vest you ask? I asked him the same effing question. I have no idea what is so difficult about putting it on before he gets too warm and collapses.
I hate this effing disease that has taken away the strong man I married.
I can’t wait for him to get his cart. He still doesn’t know about it. Everyone will love the delivery of it. His surprise? Priceless!
You okay Daddy?
What triggers your migraine?
I had a migraine headache yesterday and the day before, first ones I’ve had in a long time. I got them thanks to my neighbors. You see, for me, one of the things that will trigger a migraine is the odor of petroleum products. That’s why I go to a full service station and don’t pump gas.
A few of our neighbors decided to barbecue and they all went overboard with the charcoal lighter fluid. Instant headaches for me. This is why I love my gas grill. No charcoal lighter fluid to make me sick for days.
I have many friends whose migraines are triggered by perfume, that’s why I stopped wearing it a long time ago. The only time perfume will trigger one for me is when some idiot bathes in it. Seriously people, perfume and aftershave should not be worn by the gallon. A drop or two will do ya just fine. There’s a fine line between smelling nice and just plain stinking.
You all have a good one!
Quiet…
Too darned quiet.
Where did that dog go?
Yeah, better get up and see what Lucy is up to.
I check her crate, I check the kitchen, I check upstairs. Panic sets in when I can’t find her. Finally I see two white ear tips over the half-door between the kitchen and back porch. Guess who is on the back porch.
“There you are!”
Tail wags. “I got stuck out here.”
“That will teach you to mess with gates and doors that you shouldn’t be messing with, won’t it?”
“Not really. I’m a Bull Terrier.”
“Well, at least you didn’t shred anything.”
“Wait. Like I said, I’m a Bull Terrier. I’m just lulling you into a false sense of security.”
And so it begins.
Swamp dog…NOT!
When they built the apartment building behind us, they didn’t care that they let the run off go through our yard. Yes folks, we have a veritable river going through our yard during heavy rains.
I don’t think Lucy likes swamps. She wasn’t thrilled with the soggy yard after all the heavy rain last evening. Maybe she’d like some galoshes. I wonder if I can get her some to match mine?
Gavin doesn’t mind the swampy grass and all the mud. The proof is in the footprints on my kitchen floor. I think he goes out of his way to find the mud. He likes to make happy puppy prints on the floors.
You all have a good one and…stay dry.
Some days you’re the bug…
Other days you are the windshield. It was a bug day today. I swear I felt my ass go through my face more than once.
It’s no fun to find out that, although technically you aren’t overdrawn at the bank, you are low enough on balance that you can be overdrawn in an instant. This is what happens when The Curmudgeon puts payments on two loans using way more money than necessary.
A dear friend was raked over the coals because of something I said. Makes me feel like crap and it is so unfair. People should grow up and be the adults they are meant to be. High school is long past and they need to realize it.
“Before you speak ask yourself: Is it kind, is it necessary, it is true, does it improve upon the silence?” ― Shirdi Sai Baba.
Once the sun comes out around here again…one of these days…
Bye-bye pond
This is the pond all filled in.
Next, move plants, then level the ground.
I will miss my lovely pond.
Wanted:
Volunteers to help move plants and level lawn.
What’s really going to happen:
No one will help.
Some plants will get moved.
Some will get mowed over.
I’ll work my ass off for the rest of the summer just trying to get the yard level.
Better… not great but better
The Curmudgeon had a better day yesterday. He was able to walk the dogs out into the yard in the morning and did fairly well until the afternoon when he needed a nap. After his nap he was okay until bed time. He goes to bed before 7 p.m. Gavin agrees with him on the time.
It seems that Little Lucy Lu is a bit of a night owl. I don’t mind, she keeps me company. Although last night I had to put some peanut butter in the Kong to keep her busy while I cleaned the kitchen. I didn’t need her tripping me. She was happy to have the treat.
You all have a good one. I’m heading to bed early with hopes that I actually fall asleep.
I haz my Daddy.
I gibz him kizzez.
Not a good day
We had a real bad day here yesterday. Bad enough that I had to call 911 to get someone here to help get The Curmudgeon up off the floor. Every five minutes he was asking me for something which, of course, meant I had to climb a flight of steps or two depending on what I was doing at the time. It’s days like this, that turn me into a person I really don’t like one bit.
I am not a nurse. I never chose to go into that profession for a very good reason. I do not do well with sick people. I don’t do bed pans well, nor do I have any desire to excel at this. I am not a nice person when forced into this occupation.
It’s like denying me coffee for a week. I get cranky, real cranky.
For anyone who thinks it will get better. No it won’t, it will get worse. This is Secondary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis. This is not a bad cold, a heart attack, or anything that can cured by surgery or medications. They can try to manage it with medications but there is no cure and things are all down hill from here.
What he needs is to have friends stop by often so I don’t have to be right there every minute. I have dogs, a house, a garden, yard, and all the chores that go with it that I need to do to survive day-to-day.
What is beyond me at the moment…I need a leaky toilet replaced, safety bars hung, the mess in my attic that the roofer left cleaned up. I even wonder if I’ll ever get the cleaning caught up. I haven’t yet.
You all have a good one…
Doggonedmysteries 