Monthly Archives: May 2012

Who is the Alpha dog in your house?

     Ten years ago Gavin wanted the position of Alpha Dog but after a year of dealing with Mr. Determined, I knocked him out of that position. Yes, it took a full year.  He was the most dominant pup I’ve ever had to deal with in my life.  We locked horns on a daily basis.  I celebrated when he finally got it.   What a great day that was when he came to the realization I wasn’t going to let him be the boss. 

     The Curmudgeon sometimes thinks he is the Alpha Dog but we all know better. You can almost see the dogs roll their eyes when he tries to act the part.  The ‘get a grip’ expression is priceless.

     Patty hasn’t applied for the position as Alpha, she’s content to be part of the pack.  Though Gavin thinks he ranks higher in the pack than she does, she and I know better.  It’s fun to watch her snatch his bone away, dance around victorious, Gavin sighs, and looks at me as if to say, “Can’t you control her?”

Thank you Charlaine Harris

     I have enjoyed reading all your books but The Curmudgeon can’t read much because his vision is screwed up for close things.  He couldn’t get how much I enjoyed them.  Then you sold the rights to HBO and Trueblood was born.

     I bought the first season and The Curmudgeon watched it with me.  He got hooked.  We bought seasons two and three.  I even pre-ordered season four.  According to, season four should arrive here on Thursday.


     I see piles of unread books on the tables and more books languish in my Kindle.  I need to read but between The Curmudgeon and the dogs it seems I am not allowed to do that. 

     I hear the characters’ voices in my brain begging me to write them down and again although I need to do it I haven’t done it. 

     The house smells of wet dogs.  I need to clean and yet I haven’t done that either.

     Bitter and sweet the taste lingers on my tongue.  I think of grabbing another cup of coffee.

Belling the cat doesn’t always work…

     Many years ago we had a Siamese cat who should’ve been named Diana for her hunting skills.  However, she was named Snoopy because she couldn’t resist checking everything out from her first day with us.   She wore a bell and yet continued to gift us with many a dead animal.  Snoopy did learn that killing birds brought nothing but disapproval from us so she restricted her hunting to small furry creatures.

     When she stalked her prey you never heard that bell ring.  Fagin’s juvenile crew of pick pockets had nothing on her keep-the-bell-from-ringing skill.  That little seven pound cat could run like hell and keep the bell silent.  You only heard that bell of hers if she wanted you to hear it.

     I often observed her stalking some creature with the bell as silent as if she’d had a fifth paw to hold over it.  Then when I’d call her she come running with bell making all sorts of noise as if we hadn’t seen her silent sneak.  Once The Curmudgeon and I married, she came with me and became a house cat.  That never stopped her from hunting–she kept our house mouse free until she died at a little over twenty years of age.

     You all have a good one!

Breaking in the new neighbors…

     Unfortunately, in this neighborhood where most of us own our homes, and have done so for over twenty years, we do have a couple of rental properties.  These are owned by absentee landlords from another state.  One such place is across the street and the turn-over is horrific.

     The new neighbors moved in this week.  So far they’ve had two extremely loud parties and tons of people who are determined to either park in our driveway or block it.  Neither goes over well with us.  With both The Curmudgeon and me having medical conditions, we need the ability to leave on a moment’s notice.  I don’t have time to hunt down some stranger who has parked in front of or in our driveway. 

     I just had a discussion with one person about not blocking our driveway.  I told them that the ‘free getting to know you’ period was over and the next car to park in or block the driveway will have the police called on them and the gift of a ticket.  I hope they got the message.

     I would never dream of blocking or parking in someone’s private driveway but then I was raised to respect other people and their property.  Sigh, it seems to be a lost art these days.

     You all have a good one!

The final item out of the MIL’s house!


The last piece that needed to come home.  It should arrive sometime today!

The Curmudgeon is better today.

You all have a good one!

You want drama? Take my yesterday, please!

     The Curmudgeon collapsed on the back porch yesterday.  For the life of me, I couldn’t get him on his feet.  I ran over and got two of my neighbors to help him.  This was all before my first cup of coffee, therefore I was cranky.  I hate being cranky with him.  I know it’s not his fault that these things happen.

     I spent the rest of the day running back and forth doing whatever he needed to have done.  If I cussed and babbled it was because of fear.  I also apologized to him for doing so.  It seemed as though I didn’t get a minute to rest when I’d be hopping up again to get something for him.  He knows I love him but I’m sure I made him feel awful a couple of times where I was so tired I felt as though I couldn’t catch my breath.  Better I cuss a bit than bottle all that fear and frustration inside.

     I curse all those MS agencies and societies that claim they help.  They don’t.  If they did, I might have a few solutions on how to better deal with days like this.  I’d have help for his bad days so I don’t end up back in the hospital.  It seems that once MS goes into Secondary Progressive even the doctors tend to back away.  Don’t give me sympathetic looks, don’t roll your eyes at me when I ask what’s available in the way of help, we aren’t a research project we are human beings at the ends our ropes.

     Once The Curmudgeon settled into bed for the night, I poured a glass of Chocovine.  It was a long chase but I finally caught my breath.

     You all have a good one!  I’m going to try.


     Yesterday my day began to the rat tat tat tat of a jack hammer under my window a full three hours before my alarm went off.  I got up, closed my window, crawled back into bed, and pulled a pillow over my head.  It didn’t feel like a long time when my alarm began to blare music.

     I climbed out of bed, dragged my butt to the shower, and then got dressed.  I e-mailed Annie to tell her the street might be blocked.  She never got the e-mail and called instead, I forgot to tell her about the blocked street.  Oops.  Brain fart!

     Annie, G, and I went to Target to get a little shopping done.  Upon returning to my house we each tried a glass of the Chocovine  That was in one of my baskets.  It is to die for!!!!

     You all have a good one!

The best part of the Pennwriter conference for me this year?

Having my dear, dear friend Deb show up.  I hadn’t seen her since her horrible auto accident five years ago.  Yes, there were many tears of joy.

When I came home all my iris were in bloom

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Dang, I really need to find some energy somewhere and weed the gardens.

Wheeeeee, whee, whee!

Carefully check out all the baskets…

Buy a bunch of tickets…Dave’s arm length is best…

Place tickets in bags for baskets you hope to win….

Win baskets to take home.


     I’ve almost finished packing.  Going through my check list.  Wine packed?  Yes.  Corkscrew packed?  Yes.  Chocolate packed?  Yes.  Okay, that takes care of the important things…

      I hope all my friends will keep an eye on The Curmudgeon while I’m gone.

      See you all Monday!  I’m out of here!