The Squirrel wars continue

     This looks like the squirrel with which The Curmudgeon is having a daily battle.  LOL!

Thanks Cuz, I needed something to post tonight.

You can blame my cousin Gloria for this one.  She sent it to me and I couldn’t resist posting it.  My apologies to the author but it came without a credit.

A  firefighter was working on the engine outside the Station, when he  noticed a  little girl nearby in a little red wagon with little ladders hung off  the sides and a  garden hose tightly coiled in the middle.

The girl was  wearing a firefighter’s helmet. The wagon was being pulled  by her dog and her cat. The firefighter walked over to take  a closer look.
‘That  sure is a nice fire truck,’ the firefighter said with  admiration.

‘Thanks,’ the girl replied.

The  firefighter looked a little closer.  The girl had tied  the wagon to her dog’s collar and to the cat’s  testicles. 

“Little partner,’ the firefighter said, ‘I don’t  want to tell you how to run your rig,  but if you were to tie that rope around the cat’s collar, I think you  could go faster.

The  little girl replied thoughtfully, ‘You’re probably right,  but then I wouldn’t have a siren.’ 

The death of a theater?

 

     I finally had a chance to see the new Harry Potter movie.  The time went quickly G and I quite enjoyed it and can’t wait for the final one.

     Our favorite theater will likely close one of these days.  We practically had the place to ourselves.  We were two of six people at the show.  The attendance is bad enough that they canceled the early matinee, which we had arrived to see, and we had to go kill some time before the next show.

     That also meant we didn’t get home until after seven tonight so DH had a late dinner.  However, he did feed the dogs so Gavin got a meal before his seven p.m. no-food-after instructions for his tooth extraction kicked in.  The poor boy will shrivel up and die without his breakfast in the morning.  I wouldn’t want to be the techs at the vet’s when he wakes up hungry.  He will let them know all about it.

Death by Cuddles

 

     “Henry went to the garden to chop down that old grape vine.  That was two hours ago.”

     “Yes, ma’am.”  Detective Hayes wrote in his notepad.  “Then what happened?”

     “I heard a commotion.  I came outside.  Cuddles had that bloody board in his mouth.  He was knocking over the potted plants.”

     “You mean that two-by-four the Bull Terrier is playing with?  You say it has blood on it?”

     “Yes.  I couldn’t get Cuddles to drop it.  He ran by and cracked me in the shins.  I went down hard.  He ran past again and hit my head.”  Victoria showed him the purple bruises on her shins and the knot on her forehead.

     “That must’ve been quite a shot.”

     “Oh, it was.”

     “Tell me about Henry.”

     “I was getting to that.  Once I could walk, I went to look for him.  I’m sure he killed Henry.”

     “The dog?”

     “Yes, Cuddles killed Henry.”

     “Where was the dog?”

     “I found him with Henry.  He was licking Henry’s face.  I ran back to the house to call for the ambulance.  When they got here they said Henry was dead and called you.”

     “I’m placing you under arrest.”

     “But Cuddles did it.”

     “Sure, lady”

Dryers, the inter-dimensional sock gateway?

 

     Sorting socks on laundry day is a dull, life-sucking task.  I hate sorting socks and would love it if they did it all by themselves.  However, there are some days where you feel as though you’ve stepped into the ‘inter-dimensional sock gateway zone’ when you find strange socks and miss some you swore you’d put in the wash.

     Does anyone else have a dryer that is an inter-dimensional sock gateway?  A few E-mails back and forth with Elena made me realize that I am not the only person who has one of these.  She told me that she had a pair of socks come out of her dryer that she didn’t recognize.  I often have that problem, as well as having socks periodically disappear into the IDSG void.  Most of them are DH’s since during the warm weather I seldom wear socks.

     Some people ask why it is that only socks do this.  The easy answer is because a dryer is an inter-dimensional sock gateway not an inter-dimensional clothes gateway.  Has anyone seen a super soft sage green sock?  I can’t find one of mine.  Check your dryer it might have beamed over there. 

     Once beamed into the IDSG do the socks turn into evil sock puppets that return here bent on taking over the earth? 

     Beware of strange sock puppets.

Never cross your muse

 

     My muse avoids making eye contact.  I dust off my keyboard, clean the monitor, and straighten my desk.  Then I take some time to dust the living room and vacuum the rugs.

     “You ready to help me yet?”  I ask as I sit in front of the computer again.

     Silence.

     “Did I do something to upset you?”

     No answer.

     “This is about the ad I put in The Mystical Weekly isn’t it?”

     “You were looking for applicants for a muse!”  She began to sob and scrub her face with a lace handkerchief.

     “Yeah, and a unicorn, a troll, and an elf applied.  I turned them all down flat.  I don’t write fantasy I write mysteries.”

     “But, but why the ad?  Are you firing me?”  A huge tear dripped off her nose.  Not attractive.

     “I thought about it.  You haven’t been around much lately.”

     “I have too but you weren’t listening to me.  You were too busy.”

     “Okay, I admit it.  I have been run ragged lately but when I sit down to write you aren’t here.  Maybe we need to synchronize our watches.”

     “I don’t own a watch.  I’m a freaking muse.”

     “I was being rhetorical.  Would it help if I apologize?”

     “It’s a start.”

     “I’m sorry.”

Too much information

 

     A local plastic surgeon is advertising a new liposuction.  “We can remove your belly fat and use it to enlarge your butt and enhance your breasts.” 

     Now, the truth be told, I’d love to have some belly fat removed.  It’s always been a trouble spot for me.  However, even though I have no ass, I have no desire to have my fat removed from one place and added to another.  Besides, since I’ve never had an ass (I’ve known several asses in my lifetime but we won’t go there) I wouldn’t know how to act, dress, or sit on one.  I’m used to my flat ass.  I’m betting it would seem oh so weird having new fat back there.  Would I have to learn how to walk all over again?  Would I bounce out of a chair if I flopped in it?  I have so many questions.

     That brings us to the other part of the body they will inject the fat.  I’d rather have a reduction in the boob zone than an enhancement.  Mine aren’t overlarge but why not have my boobs reduced so in another decade or two they aren’t pointing at the ground?  Little boobs stay perky.

A little flag waving in honor of yesterday

 

     After a day loaded with food, fireworks, and military band music, it was nice to take time to remember why we celebrate the 4^th of July.

     The freedoms we have are precious gifts given to us by those visionaries who fought hard to achieve the birth of a great nation.  What an amazing accomplishment.  Do not let their dream fade in apathy.

     Hang tightly to those freedoms and be proud of who we are as a nation. 

     This is a great country.  It is my country and I’m proud of it.  I am grateful to be a citizen.

Surprise! A new look.

 

     I thought it was time for a change.  I hope you like it.  One thing I noticed was the print is larger, which I like.  However,  it is lighter, which I don’t like. 

     I may have to play a little.

     The Blogrolls are now on the bottom of the page along with everything else that isn’t a post.  Not sure if I like that, but we’ll see.

     This is going to take some getting used to.  I hope you all like the changes.  If not, let me know.  I do want your opinions.

Are we sanitizing ourselves into oblivion?

 

     When we were kids, we used to go outside and play…in the dirt.  We’d come home so filthy you couldn’t tell us from the neighborhood boys, or the boy cousins, if we were visiting our grandfather’s farm. 

     Mom was lucky if we really washed our hands before dinner.  We went swimming in lakes and stagnant ponds and went wading in drainage ditches and creeks. 

     There was no such thing as sanitizing wipes or antibacterial soaps.  Do you remember the two-second rule for dropped food?  Don’t forget to blow on it too.

     We rolled in the grass, rode our bikes all day, played in the rain, and we seldom caught colds.  Allergies?  The closest I came to one as a child was a reaction to eating way too much fresh pineapple—I got a rash that went away the next day.

     I have a novel idea…for the entire summer put away the kids’ computers, game boys, WIIs, X-boxes, cell phones, and other paraphernalia and take them outside to play.  I mean really play and get filthy.  They might get healthier. 

     In fact, moving around and doing something outside would do adults a lot of good too.

Time management

 

     You have to be kidding.  Me manage time?  I wish.  That’s as much a pipe dream as organizing the house.  I’ve tried to do both and have yet to succeed.

     It never fails to amaze me that no matter when I get up, the day doesn’t have enough hours in it for me to do the things I’d like to have done around here.  Maybe if I could clone myself…

     I’d need more than one clone.  However, that would pose another problem.  Where would I put my clones?  This house is tiny.  How would I feed them?  If they eat like I do that would put a hurting on our food budget.  Clones won’t work.

     This, in turn, brings us back to time management.  How does one manage time?  I have no idea.  I remain clueless.  I’ve tried making schedules but between DH, his mother, and the dogs schedules don’t work.  Something always comes up to scotch it.

     I would try delegating chores and projects but when there’s no one else to delegate those things to, that doesn’t work either.  I need more hours in the day, or in my case, the night.

     How do you manage time?

How to repair a hole in a wall

 

     There’s a hole in the wall behind Patty’s crate. 

     How did that get there? 

     The idiot dog put it there. 

     Sure, blame the dog.

     Really, she did it.  No, she didn’t use a hammer or put her paw through it, she used her crate.

     Patty is a high energy Bull Terrier.  Patty will run full tilt into her crate and slam into the back of it.  One of these days, I expect to find her unconscious in there with that I-meant-to-do-it look on her face.  The last time she ran full tilt into her crate, it hit the wall so hard that it knocked a hole in the plaster.  It’s not dry wall this is an old plaster and lath wall.

     I will clear away any loose dust and plaster and undercut the edges.  I’ll dampen the hole and edges, fill it with patching plaster, not quite even to the wall, and then score the surface of the patching plaster.  Let it dry for 24 hours.  Then I’ll apply joint compound even with the rest of the wall.  This doesn’t have to be perfect since I painted the wall with textured paint, which I’ll apply after the joint compound is dry.

     Have I done this before?  Oh, yeah.  Many times, between DH’s frequent falls and two high energy BTs I’ve become an expert.