Oh - And My Alltime Favorite. . .

. . . Get out of my way, moron! Who says you can't drive 70 on ice?!

Ice Storm

Love the winter emergencies of the South:

• Days under 50 degrees are COLD.
• Winter begins in November, even though you still sweat outside at 4:00 in the morning.
• Don't you dare criticize me if I'm wearing coat, gloves, hat, scarf. . . even if you're wearing shorts and a tube top.
• Christmas typically means air conditioning.
• Overcast skies in December are ominous -- even if it's 70 outside.
• Driving is hazardous if it's under 60 and raining. There's no way I can make it to work today.
• Of course you can see Christmas lights through leaves!
• Black ice?  What ice?
• Who needs a sled -- use a trash can lid.
• Oh my gosh something's wrong with me!!  I'm breathing smoke!
• I love that brown snowman.
• It's still a school snow day, even if it's 80 by noon. We are totally incapacitated.

Ice Storm -- February 1, 2011

Bald Men and Afros

Both hold such utter fascination for me.  I think bald men are some of the most gorgeous men on the planet.  When a bald man walks into a room, my eyes are immediately drawn to him, kind of like any man who sees a woman with boobs larger than a C-cup.

I love a shiny, nicely-rounded head with a big nose.  Life doesn't get any better!  My friends have hypothesized that I "have a 'thing' for baldies."  But I disagree.  To me, a bald man with a big nose signifies great intelligence. . . sensitivity. . . . cleverness. . . . .and LOVE.  Oh my.

Let me share with you some choice selections:

As a bald man lover, need I say more? Most (??) baldies exude an intelligent sexuality. . .and you can appreciate their incredible face, without being distracted by that crazy hair that may be full of dandruff.

But I must admit, to me the most incredibly attractive bald men are also Jewish.  To me, the bald head, big nose, and jewishness signifies the peak of male attractiveness.  I LOVE them!!  And of course I love most men in New York City and Chicago -- heaven help me!!

Yet I've noticed a certain distraction on my part. .. . . .I have no reasoning for it, other than sheer attraction.  It may go back to my 70s high school days, when a senior had an awesome hairdo.  I can't explain it, but I LOVE

THE AFRO!!

I know some of you can't deny it -- the afro is sexy!  Look at these men!  They are total love-muffins!!  And when you watch one of these awesome men running, with the air flowing through their afro -- there is nothing sexier!  You can disagree with me on the basic look of the afro, but every woman will fall to the afro-blowing-through-the-wind!!

In conclusion.  Please help me.  I desperately love the bald, big-nosed men. . . . .but adore a huge afro, blowing through the wind, -- attached to either a pro athlete, or a poor dweeb who doesn't kn ow any better.

Goodness.  I love them all.

Why Does My Iced Tea Smell Like Bad Feet? . . .and more

It is incredibly difficult living in a family where you are the only one who can smell properly.  I did not know this about Joel, or I may have considered a unique legal requirement before our wedding.  This is a huge responsibility.

Think about it -- I am the only one who can smell dog pee or dog poo (remember, we have 4 dogs); I am the only one who can smell something burning; I am uniquely responsible for knowing if we are about to perish in a natural gas bomb; and I have the stress of smelling my ultimate worst odor . . . mildew.

Eeeuw.  I hate it.  And Joel loves his slowly-rotting bath towels and running shorts.  He loves to take his work clothes out of the dryer too early and leave the dishtowels in the kitchen soaking wet.  He loves it when the rain pours on the patio furniture cushions.  Do you know why??!  BECAUSE THEY ALL MILDEW!!

My life is full of running around determining pet smells, and gas smells, and re-washing mildewed clothes.  I am constantly lighting candles and vacuuming.


Oh Lord, why, why, why am I left to be the only one fighting the battle of stench?

Heaven will be a place full of the smell of fresh laundry, newly-cut grass, limes, and bleach.  :)

How on earth did I end up in an 80-year-old house, a stink-prone-husband, 4 dogs, and mildew??

Mildewing laundry

Washing machine where mildewing laundry is (hopefully) de-stinked

My Sweet Pea

I love my daughter.  This is one of my favorite pictures of her.  Describes her personality perfectly:

I love watching her grow into a wonderful adult woman -- watching her make hard decisions, celebrate success, and learn from her mistakes.  She's a good kid.  She makes me proud daily.

My Sweet Pea is engaged and we are having a ton of fun planning her wedding:

But no matter how old she is, or what she accomplishes, she'll always be my little Sweet Pea:

The Heat. . .The Horrible, Unbearable Heat!

I love my Texas (even though I was born in Detroit and raised in Arkansas. . . don't say it. I know.)

Texas is my home of 25 years.  I adore Dallas, and this great state, as much as any 1800s pioneer.  Texas is big sky, flat land, hot summers (which I cannot bear), incredible shopping, great food, wonderful culture, lifelong friends, and soothing, comforting, southern life -- a lovely life both personal and professional.

Texas is incomparable.  It is difficult to explain it to those who haven't lived here. They wonder why we're so proud.  Texas is honorable.  It is reliable.  And sturdy.  Texas is unique and distinct. Texas is a whole lot of dichotomies rolled into a big, happy family.  But I've got to tell ya, the summer heat is truly horrible.  I think the only reason people live through it is because of all of the other great things.

Seriously, I don't know how the 1800s pioneers did it.  I would have curled up in the fetal position and told them to leave me on the side of the trail.  It gets too dang hot for livin'!

I have to tell you -- when the hot weather breaks I immediately become a new woman. Life is good again. Life is bearable!  All of a sudden, without any kind of encouragement,  I am running around getting all kinds of productive things done, and I'm ready for more!  I can't call it "Fall," but I can call it a "relief!"

This late summer weather is such a wonderful relief!  Thank You Texas!!

Reggie & Reuben (very bad boys)

I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry.  I'm not quite disciplined enough to do this blogger thing consistently, but I promise to do better.

The last time I wrote I promised to introduce you to my boys, Reggie and Reuben.  Here's the story:

My daughter and I lived in a house that was in a prominent location.  The house was broken in to a couple of times -- interestingly enough, it was always at the beginning of a school year, and we just happened to live a couple of blocks away from a junior high and high school.  Dang kids.

At that time I was working 45 minutes away, so imagine the freakoutedness in getting a call from your 13-year-old daughter, who is sobbing and scared, telling you that she just got home from school and someone has broken into the house.  Words cannot describe.

After this happened for the second year in a row, I finally listened to the friends who suggested that one of the best deterrents to break-ins is a barking dog.  So one Saturday morning, my Sweet Pea daughter and I drove to the SPCA to find a dog.

It's important to know that we had strict requirements for this war against crime:

• It must be a female dog.  Male dogs pee too much in too many places.
• It must be a trained adult dog.  We don't know what we're doing, so let's get a pre-'made' dog.
• Obviously, it must be a dog that barks.  Duh.

The SPCA staff was great.  Once they learned what we were looking for, they helped us look for female, adult dogs.  They suggested that we put the selected prospect in one of their offices and close the door.  Then we should approach the door and knock.

This way we would know if the dog was a barker.  Genius, right?!

Problem was, none of the dogs barked.

So we gave up and decided to head home, because Sweet Pea had a Choir Retreat to get to by a specific time.

But the way home led us directly by the puppy cages.

Side note:  Sweet Pea and I had been loyal Scottie owners for years.  We LOVE that Scottie look-short legs, black fur, long nose, intelligent eyes-and that overall terrier look.  I also love those unkempt-looking Jack Russell terriers.  I read Henry & Ribsy, by Beverly Cleary as a child and loved it, so any dog that is white, spotted, and scraggly is the perfect All American Dog to me.

So anyway, these puppies were precious, terrier-looking, 6-weeks-old, and begging to be loved.

Immediately, no discussing or debating, Sweet Pea and I each had our hands on our favorite puppy -- she had a cuddly, black Scottie-looking thing and I had my perfect "Ribsy."

After very little consideration (take them in a 'visitation room' and see how they behave, blah blah blah) we were buying those suckers like there was no tomorrow.

We loved them desperately on our way home (actually, speeding to the parent drop-off for the kids going to the Choir Retreat).

After dropping Sweet Pea off with the lone parent who was willing to wait for the delinquent student, I headed for home.  And the 'Ribsy' dog proceeded to poop and vomit all over my car--he made sure to hit all the seams and cracks that are hardest to clean.  And he did it with gusto, my new little man.

How on earth did we go to the pound with such stringent requirements, and end up with the EXACT OPPOSITE of what we required??

And there is a good reason why we wanted a pre-trained dog. . .we SUCK as dog disciplinarians.

Therefore, we own lovable brothers, named Reuben (black one) and Reggie (white with spots) who are overall good boys, but who know absolutely no commands.  They follow my directions because I've trained them with treats, but these poor souls are pretty undisciplined.

 Reggie

 Reuben

They've also got some major dominance issues with each other.  Reuben has short-man syndrome and is always bullying his brother, who will only take it for so long.  Because of this, they spend most of their day outside and then everyone comes inside to their comfy dog beds at night.  You should see us, 2 adults and 4 dogs, all on our beds.

And do you know what?. . .We've had no more break-ins!  GOOD BOYS!

More fun dog photos:

Lovely Peaches

Good old Angel

Nap in the hallway

Oh my!