Monthly Archives: December 2014
Poor Momma she didn’t get to make her 2,222 post, I did!
Momma says she will probably be back in a couple of days. She’s still not up to snuff.
She’s sorta mad at WordPress ’cause she thought they were gonna publish her STATS yesterday but they weren’t on the page when she looked. Sorry to disappoint everyone by not being here yesterday.
Geez, we never realized how much work keeping this blog going is for Mom.
It was not a good day. Daddy went to the store trying to help out and then he fell down the porch steps when trying to come in the door. He might not have fallen if they weren’t so crumbly. At least he is coughing a lot less than Momma. Poor Daddy is going to be sore tomorrow.
Momma said we are good dogtors but she is as sick as ever. We made her drink lots of stuff and took nappies with her all day. She says she wishes we could scratch her ears since they’ve been terrible itchy inside. She has coughed so bad her ribcage is killing her.
Hi, this is Lucy posting for Mommy tonight. Mommy has a bad case of the creeping crud.
She went to the doctor today and he gave her two kinds of medicine. Then he told her to get plenty of rest. She was still laughing about that when she came home. If she’s not better in 5 to 7 days she has to go back. Gavin and I are being her nurses, it’s my shift now.
I think this is the first year in a long time where I didn’t sink into the deepest of the deep depressions. I only had a couple of passing blue periods.
I do believe that it is because of a few good friends who know enough to not let me wallow in sorrow, gloom, and reminiscences of family now gone.
They’ve let me find my path through everything the past has thrown at me. They never pointed me in one direction or another. They let my feet lead me on.
Thank you my dear friends.
Fifty nine degrees at midnight December 24th/25th, wow!
Six out of eight episodes of Dr. Who later, we called it a night. Poor G couldn’t keep her eyes open after half a bottle of Prosecco, baked brie with cranberries and walnuts, caviar, mascarpone, and smoked salmon.
You all have a good one!
By 2:30 a.m. the temperature had risen to 63 degrees after which it began to fall to the mid 40s by 5 a.m.
G and I braved the crowds at the farmers market yesterday. She got a couple of things she wanted and so did I.
We hit the Amish bakery at just the right time. I snagged their last small mince meat pie for The Curmudgeon–it’s his favorite. All they had left in mince meat then was two tiny individual tarts. I also had to get one of their delicious bear claws–they are hard to resist.
One more stand, a one pound container of roasted Brussel sprouts with bacon topped out my bag and we headed home.
Looking forward to our girls night in tonight.
You have a merry, happy, blessed whatever you do.
So last year G and I started what we hope will become a tradition for us.
G loves Christmas as much as I love Halloween and Christmas Eve is very lonely for her since her husband died.
The Curmudgeon is in bed by seven every night so I am alone too.
Last year I bought champagne, caviar, and smoked salmon. She bought creme fresh, made some baked brie in puffed pastry, and bought water crackers. (We are doing a rerun of the food since we enjoyed it so much.)
We loaded a couple of movies into the DVD player and had a good time.
This year I have a surprise for her. She is a Doctor Who fan but couldn’t get the show on her TV. I have the entire season saved on my DVR for her to watch. Shhhh, don’t tell her.
Several friends have had their dogs melt down and go after each other in the last few weeks. Very frightening for them.
In our house it’s not that. It’s Gavin acting like a young pup. Hucklebutts, scolding me, teasing Lucy, and trying to jump up on The Curmudgeon’s chair.
He’s getting into things he hasn’t touched in many years, looking for mischief in general.
This is the dog, who since Lucy arrived, has had more than his usual attention and affection, trips outside whenever he pleases, and treats galore.
I can say with all honesty, there’s never a dull moment in this house.
My days of writing are few. It seems that moments of writing clarity are too often interrupted by household chaos and The Curmudgeon’s ill-health.
He has so few good days any more that it is difficult to sit and write when he’s in so much pain. I seem to have to jump up and do something for him or dogs every time I get seated for more than a minute.
I’m tired all the time and my brain fuzzes. I’m horrified to find my self dozing off with Lucy for an hour or so every night lately.
Do you have days like that?
Momma had strange thing in her hand and I barked at it and I almost wagged my tail off. Then she gave me a soft pinch with it and I did a wild hucklebutt all over the living room and kitchen.
I don’t want a bath!
I like being dirty.