Kim’s sweet picture of Abby at What’s That Smell reminded me of Tonie and her two at Disney.
Everyone must have been exhausted, but the kids just collapsed. I love that look on Tonie’s face…
I don’t have a scanner so had to take a picture of it. Yuk. Still love it.
I got up fuming this morning because of a little thing. It’s always a little thing.
Some small time before I’d been sleeping peacefully, all thoughts of whitefly gone. All that remained were the dreams that carried me through the night. Beautiful fawn colored Jersey cows dressed in lederhosen floated above me, held gently aloft by hot air balloons; I was a futures broker who had just cornered the market in bull pizzles*. The cows, upon hearing the glad news, released milk colored confetti from their udders.
Freud would love it, I know.
But then I was jarred awake by someone using the toilet next to my head. Basically. It’s a small house, but we do have two bathrooms. Why? And let me tell you, it’s the little things that will drive you insane. The eroding lack of respect and regard…. because after too long a time and I will start doing the same thing. The end of care.
But right now the glass is still half full. The attrition of living together hasn’t worn us down - yet. I wonder how long it will take.
*Always looking out for my dog, even in my sleep.
In a few days I’ll turn 51 and officially segue into my “50’s”. No wonder the pre-birthday funk has descended. Oh, I’m going quietly. No kicking and screaming this year. At some point one has to simply admit defeat in the face of time’s ravages. No cream made can counteract Mother Nature’s handiwork.
I believe this is the ‘acceptance’ phase of grief.
As usual, Arthur keeps asking what I want for my birthday and as usual I say ‘a card would be fine’. I don’t want a big fluffy teddy bear, handcrafted jewelry, a new camera or even a weekend getaway.
I want another dachshund. I’ve been telling myself that one dog is enough, but finally come to the realization that I need another one. There has been a dachshund in my life for 45 years; my life does not feel complete without one.
The search begins.
My sister-in-law Deb has been involved with the Rottweiler breed for 20 years. Showing, handling for others and breeding three litters of her own. It’s been a kick, and she’s loved every moment of it… and even though she’s had ads and such in breed magazines, this particular honor is neither an ad nor an accolade. Just a picture in a magazine.
BUT the owner of the dog selected to be in the mag picked one of the pictures with Debra handling her dog. The big deal? This magazine will be handed out to everyone at the Reliant Park Dog Shows next week! Congratulations, girl! Talk about high profile!
My husband and I first met at his sister’s wedding in Chicago, September 1986. It was love at first sight. Or a sort of recognition. For those who don’t believe in love at first sight: we were clearly destined for each other and we both knew it in a gut wrenching, heart lifting sort of way that made us want to simultaneously reach for each other and run as fast as possible in the other direction.
Since I lived in Houston and he in Miami, he made the first trip, joining my best friend and I at the Texas Renaissance Festival. I made him miserable, he flew home.
