Vanity

First off, I'm sorry - I really don't have bad form - I just can't get this fool thing to double space to save my rear end today!! I see spaces on this page - but not on the preview...

Let's talk about vanity plates for a moment, shall we? Now, don't get me wrong, I love vanity plates. I've had many in my lifetime.

LYNNS84

2LW2DIG

GETGOIN

DANY&ME

LOONSGL

Those are just some I can remember as of right now. But some people take the VANITY part way too far with their vanity plates.

DISCLAIMER: These vanity plates offend me, I in no way support them nor the idiots driving with them on their vehicles.

So - I apologize if they offend you too. But sometimes I feel the need to share ugly things, so that my brain doesn't have to bear the brunt alone.

Here are some of these offensive vanity plates that if I worked at DMV, would never be on the road.

SMOKN HT

PLBY BNY

2 HOTTTT

GETUWET (VOLUNTEER FF - BUT STILL....)

RU18QT (THIS MAN SHOULD BE ARRESTED)

LTLHOTY

U2UGLY (REALLY?)

O2CUTE

ALL QT

UCAQT

And my favorite is on a beat up old van. I saw this van parked by the curb outside of a drug store, my son was with me. My jaw dropped. Then I got MAD!!!!!! Really mad! I walked into that drug store, and it's a little one, so I could immediately see there was only 2 men in the entire store, and they were up at the register. I was already running my mouth. And it wasn't nice. I was telling my son that if he EVER, EVER put something that rude, crude, stupid and demeaning on his vehicle, that I didn't care if he was 50 - if I was still alive, I would do terrible things to him. If any man is stupid enough to think that something like that would actually get him a date, or a girlfriend, or even a one night stand, he had MANY MANY MANY severe mental problems. And I was NOT quiet doing all this, and the men heard the whole thing - which was good, because I meant for them to hear it. It's not easy to explain that van to a child. At least my son was 13 and sorta knew what it meant. As if it was discreet to begin with.

License plate: O2BNU

Spare tire cover: "YOUR PLACE OR MINE....."

WOW!!!!!! I feel dirty and am turning my lip up in disgust just typing that!! Ewwwww!!

Are there offensive license plates in other states besides Virginia? Share some with me.

Flashback Friday

Some of what I think is very pretty black sand from Haven Beach.

Today I am flashing back to the days when I could sleep all night. Without waking up. Without heartburn. Without pulling a groin just trying to roll over. Without 5 trips to the potty. Without nausea. Yes, I do realize this is all part of being pregnant. I am actually looking forward to the lack of sleep that comes with a newborn, because at least I will have that little face to look at, and little feet to kiss while I am awake. And hopefully pain will not be a part of being awake in the middle of the night. Well, this little guy will probably have a set of lungs that will cause ear pain, but that's OK.

Obviously, I don't have any story today for Flashback Friday, because I am sleep deprived. And I still have to type up the master sheet for Hubby's NFL Pickem' pool. Yay, me....

Please share a memory from whenever, that way when I wake at 3am I will have something to do!

Goodbye, September!

I don't think I remember a worse month in a very long time. September has sucked out loud! Usually I love September, it's when school is back in , the leaves start to change, and I get the first Christmas feelings. This year, not so much.

I started with Angel getting sick, then hubby's truck breaking down, then the fridge breaking, I had a flat tire, had to train a new girl at work, and she's mean. My computer at work crashed and I lost some important files, now we are running out of flu shots and don't know when the next shipment is even coming. Hubby got the first coat of paint on the baby's room, only to find out it was totally the wrong color and had to go get the right color and start over again.

I hope I'm not leaving anything out. Oh, yeah, baby might be here a month early - but who knows? Oh, yeah, (#2) Guiding Light went off air.

And, yes, there is more... The Redskins are NOT doing well so far. Neither is Florida State. And, the Plowboys had the nerve to win their MNF game.

Now, this is finally the last day of this unusually terrible month. Welcome, October, may you bring better days... And a healthy baby, too!

I hope your September has gone better than mine, and I thank you for listening, reading, (whatever) to my whining and moaning and complaining, I will try to keep it to a minimum from here on out...

Thankful Tuesday

Bad, fuzzy picture, HOWEVER, did I ever mention that I am cameraless? I'm pretty sure "cameraless" is not a word, but we will just pretend it is for now.



This Tuesday, I am thankful and happy to announce that my Angel girl is pretty much back to normal!!!! You can tell she had her nearly fatal vertigo problem, because she still has balance problems, her head tilts to the right, and her right eye doesn't look quite right, but overall, she is back to being Angel. And her head tilt really is endearing. I never thought I'd miss not being able to get out of the bathroom or the bedroom closet because she has come in behind me and can't figure out how to back up, and I can't get around her. Yes, that really happens. She never has been able to figure out how to back up, silly girl!! She eventually will work it all out and be able to leave the closet or bathroom, but I have to be patient while she works it all out in her head and gets it done. You can see the wheels turning in her head while she mulls it over "I know how I got in here, but how on earth do I get out?".



I think I am giving people the impression that I have a mental illness. I don't. I just love my dog. Alot. And it's a big deal to me that she is better. After all, I know the end is inevitable, she is 14 years old. I'm just not ready yet. Maybe this was practice. But, I want my baby to meet her before she goes. I know that sounds weird, because he will not remember, but I also want pictures of him and her together. I got an e-mail from my mother-in-law, (and deleted it a while back, so I can't show you this picture) and there was a picture of a golden retreiver laying down, with a naked baby laying on his belly on the dogs back. It was so cute!! I am really laughing at myself at this point. Maybe I am mental....

If so, oh well. I'm just glad my baby is better!!

What are you thankful for today?

I Survived!

Well, I survived the 3 hour sugar test. And my mom didn't have to take me, thank goodness!! Hubby's truck was ready Thursday afternoon, so I was able to get my truck back!! YAY! I can listen to my radio again, be on time to work again, stop somewhere on the way home if I need to, etc., etc.

Now I just hope the test was negative. If the doc takes away my ice cream, I'll surely wither away. I'm just glad to have it behind me. Now I just need my ultrasound done. I have to wait until Oct 8th because the tech is "booked up". It's starting to get awkward when someone asks how long I have to go. The answer nowadays is "I don't know". Because I don't. Could be Oct 30th or Nov 30th. That's quite a spread. We shall see...

Flashback Friday

A crooked picture of hubby fishing.

For some reason I have been thinking about the time I did something very bad at Grandma's house.

I have always had very long hair, except for two times. One I do believe was a early mid life crisis. (It has since grown back.) The other time, well...


I had this habit, as most little girls with long hair do, of putting my hair in my mouth. Gross. My mom was dropping me off at Grandma's for a little bit. Mom told me if Grandma caught me putting my hair in my mouth, she was gonna cut it off. Well, I was sitting in the "little bedroom". That was the name given to a specific room in Grandma's house. She had all her sewing stuff in there. I was sitting on the little chair, looking at myself in the mirror, and playing with stuff I probably shouldn't have been playing with. I looked up and noticed my hair was in my mouth. OOPS. Grandma would know. My hair was wet in that spot. Grandma would know. Grandma would cut my hair off. So what did I do? I took out the scissors and cut off that part of my hair. At ear level.

Boy, I though I would be in trouble if Grandma found out I put my hair in my mouth? You should have seen everyone when they saw my hair! It was so bad, I had to go get my hair cut. A pageboy. Dad had to take me. The girl cutting my hair, Angie, had known me since I was born, she cried as she cut. I went from hair so long I was sitting on it, to a page boy. I look back and laugh now, but I do remember the trauma.

Your turn...

Longest Week in History

So, even though I only have one brain cell left after the longest week in history, (and it's not even over yet) I actually kinda learned something again!! It's a bit fuzzy, but you know, I figured out that if I right click on a picture I can save it to "my pictures". Pretty cool. My one brain cell learned that all by itself. Yay!

The flu shot season is upon us. We give them to our patients all day Wednesday and Thursday. On these "flu shot clinic" days, we give anywhere from 70-100 shots. We also give patients shots during the rest of the week, for example, if they are seeing one of the docs for a routine appointment, we give it to them at that time. Last week, we started giving flu shots and gave 150 last week. Last week we had not even started the "flu shot clinics" yet. The first"flu shot clinic" was yesterday. Yesterday, I gave 80 some shots. I am very proud to be a part of keeping the community healthy. That's my job, and I love it. But it is so BORING.

The bad part is that we may not having enough flu shots to last as long as we need them to. That is very frustrating. We have not even received our entire shipment. PANIC MODE!!

Hubby's truck is not ready yet, either. That means #1 Son and I have to be picked up by my mom at 6:15 in the morning, she takes #1 Son back to her house, then we go down to Wawa to meet a lady who I work with who also lives in Gloucester. Then we have to drop her husband off at his job, then to work we go. While doing this, I get in to work almost 30 minutes later than normal. That's OK with the office manager, and with She Doc, but I am anal about getting to work early. It's driving me nuts.

Tomorrow I have to have a 3 hour glucose tolerance test. I have to fast for 12 hours, be at the doc's office at 8am, drink yucky sugary crap, the get stuck every hour for 3 hours.

Pregnant woman + no food for 12 hours (16 hours by the end of it all) + needle x3 =

INSTANT B&%@#!!!!

I really hope I have my truck back by then, because if my mom has to take me, and I have to spend all that lovely fasting, grouchy 3-4 hours with her, I will be bald by the time I leave the doc's office. At that point, she may as well drop me off at Eastern State Hospital to be committed.

So if there is no post by at least Monday morning... you know what happened!!

Thankful Tuesday

This Tuesday, I am thankful for my son.

Yes, he is quite the fisherman. All he does is fish and bowl. And he's very good at both!

I am very thankful for him, because when his father and I decided to try for him, it happened on the very first time, and I had no complications, all was good. He was stubborn, though. I was admitted to the hospital one week over-due with high blood pressure. They induced me, and after 36ish hours of back labor, his heart rate started going down and they had to knock me out and take him c-section. By that time, I didn't care how he got out, just someone GET HIM OUT!! And he was fine, and so was I. With all I have gone through trying to get pregnant and staying pregnant this time, I call #1 Son's birth relatively non-complicated!

That's one of the reasons I am so thankful. I know now that I have this clotting disorder, and I had it when pregnant with #1 Son, just didn't know it, and had no repercussions from it. That was a blessing.

#1 Son is a good ole boy. He hunts, fishes, and bowls. He now hates school, but he is 13 1/2, so I think he is supposed to hate school, right? Sure, I get the eye rolls and huffs and puffs when he is asked to do something, but overall he is a good kid. He doesn't really get into a lot of trouble. When I hear stories of other 13 year olds, I cringe. So many of them are already into drugs, and are smoking and drinking. Even when I think back on my 13 year old days. Now that is scary. Good thing I grew up!! I was a bad kid! That makes my appreciate him even more.

Only one problem. He looks just like his father!! Remember, I AM divorced from his father, so I can say that. But I would never tell #1 Son that! He is a good looking boy, though, despite looking like his dad. But I may be partial, too.

Now it's your turn, what are you thankful for today?

On The Mend...

Bear with me until I get a new camera - I may be double-dipping...

I just wanted to say a great big THANK YOU for all of your well-wishes and prayers for my Angel. I know I have talked non-stop about her for 3 weeks now. You animal lovers understand, though, right?

This Saturday morning, after dragging her on her blanket down the hallway to the living room, she did something wonderful!! She got up on all four legs by herself, and looked at the door. We said "well, maybe she wants to go outside, we'll try it." So we guided her and she walked all the way out the back door, and out into the yard!! Bless her heart, her legs are so shaky, and she falls alot, but she is walking!!!!! I thought I'd never see it again. Doc had faith in her. I don't know if I actually had faith that it would happen, or if I just didn't want to put her down and that was my motivation. But Doc did have faith. If it weren't for him, (and my selfishness) I probably would have given up and had her put to sleep. I had people telling me it was probably time. But I just couldn't do it, at least not unless Doc came right out and said it was time.

And I'm glad he didn't. And that I didn't. It's still rough going, she still pees right where she is sometimes, 3 times Saturday and only once Sunday (so far). That's not too bad considering where we were. So the laundry has slowed down a bit, not as many towels and blankets and rugs being peed on. And we gave her a mini bath today, and she loved it. I know she is very old, and I am so fortunate and so blessed that she is on the mend!!

Thank you all again for all your well-wishes for my best friend!

Flashback Friday

Now, as usual, this pic has nothing to do with anything I'm about to say. But, man, I wish I could sleep like that!!

I was trying to find some pictures of the cows I had growing up, but I couldn't find them. Who knows if I could have even figured out how to scan them into the computer?

Yes, I am having flashbacks of my cows. Actually, of one cow in particular. The bull. Timmy. Yes, I named all the cows. The bull's name was Timmy. I don't know why. Maybe find a 8 year old and ask them why they would name a bull Timmy. I'm sure I had a reason at the time.

We raised Timmy from a baby, even had to bottle-feed him. He was a cute little thing. Then he grew up. And was still cute!! This bull would let me pet his nose any time I wanted to. He could be hand-fed by most people. He only grew up to be about 2,000 pounds! If I stood on one side of the fence, he would come up to me, and I would sway back and forth, and he would "dance" with me. I kid you not, this bull danced! Timmy had moves sorta like Stevie Wonder.

One day we were at the gas station that my parents run at the time at Edgehill, and we got a phone call from animal control. Someone driving down Ware Neck had to stop in the middle of the road, because there was a bull in the middle of the road! Well, that person went to the across the street neighbors, called Animal Control, and then the neighbors had them call my parents. Nobody knew what to do with this bull in the middle of the road, and of course, they didn't know any better, so they were all afraid of him. Whenever they would try to get close, Timmy would stomp and paw, and they were pretty sure he was gonna come after them. Little did they know, he probably wanted to dance! While we were on our way home, our preacher had come up the road, and saw what was going on. Well, he had met Timmy before, he told the animal control that Timmy was a good bull, and that he wouldn't hurt anyone, as long as they weren't driving a school bus. (Timmy didn't like school buses, and the preacher had seen this first-hand.)

So, we get home and boy there were a lot of people gathered by this time. It's not every day you run across a bull in the road, after all. My dad went to the house, and got an apple, then went back out to the road. Everyone was looking at him like he was crazy. His bull was in the middle of the road, and he went to the house and got a stinkin' apple? What was he going to do, have a snack, or do something about this bull? Imagine their faces when he showed Timmy the apple, and said, "come on Timmy, lets go the barn", and Timmy looked at the apple, and followed dad all the way back to the house!! Boy, those people looked like they had witnessed a miracle right then and there!! Hehe, they should have stuck around to see the scrawny little girl dance with Timmy, then pet him and kiss him on the nose!!

Yes, when I say I am an animal lover, I truly mean it! And cows are no exception to that rule. Cows are very cute, especially their noses.

So, what are you having flashbacks of today? (Or you can tell me about your hot flashes, hehe!!)

Vindication (maybe)

Please don't ask me why - but I think this is a cool picture. Hubby took it at work. I think I like the way the sun is behind the arm of the crane.

This picture has nothing to do with this blog. You really shouldn't be surprised, right?

Yesterday I went to the OB for my "7 month" checkup. I am 28 weeks pregnant.

You know, people can say some of the derndest things to pregnant women. (How's that for a word - derndest - I don't think it's a real word). My patients will ask me when I am due, I respond to them November 30th. Then, their face gets this "look", I don't know how to describe it, other than maybe "oh wow". Some of them have even said "Oh wow". Then the questions follow.... "are you having twins?" "how much have you gained?" Or the statements... "you are going to be huge by then!" "oh, you are having twins" "you're not going to make it until then". I know they don't mean any harm, and probably don't even know that I am biting my tongue from saying things like "look at you, you're not even pregnant." Now, that surprises me, because I am and have been for years, battling my weight, and been in weight watchers twice. But being pregnant, hearing things like that, it hurts my feelings and I WANT to hurt them back. I know, that's not nice. Sorry. But you know, when I hear these things up to 30 times a day, every day, it really gets old. Quickly.

Well, today, I had something happen that made me feel a little better. Maybe. The doc was measuring my uterus (you know, with the tape measure) and she said "hum, I'm measuring you at 30 weeks." I said, "wow, you know, I do feel the baby all the way up here a lot of the time, and when I have Braxton-Hicks contractions, they are pretty high up". She measured again, and said, "no, actually it's about 32 weeks." HEHEHE I asked her about something one of the other docs had told me about my Factor V Leiden mutation (clotting disorder) that it could cause low birth weight and that she had wanted me to do every 3 week ultrasounds after week 28 to make sure the baby was growing the way he should. This doc felt around, and said "I don't think we need to worry about a small baby, here. He feels pretty big". So, she scheduled me for an ultrasound, because now we think I may be further along than we had thought, and because she thinks I have King Kong growing in there!

I felt SO vindicated. If (and I do mean if, cuz she may be wrong) I am truly 32 weeks pregnant, and not 28 weeks pregnant, that would mean I am a full month further along, and those people should take back what they all said. Right? Yeah, I thought so, too.

And it would definitely NOT hurt my feelings to be a month further along. I told hubby and he got all excited!! My ultrasound isn't until a couple of weeks, so I will give an update as soon as I can!

Patrick Swayze

Sorry this picture is so dark...

Patrick Swayze lost his battle to pancreatic cancer. He lived 20 months after his diagnosis. He was very lucky.

The man on the left in this picture is my 2nd youngest brother, Brent. He died this past February 10th at 2:06 am. 60 days after his diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.

He was 52.

The girl beside him is his daughter, my niece, who is more like a sister to me. The man on the other side is our Dad. This picture was taken Christmas this past year. He had been loosing weight ever since before Thanksgiving. His doctor (general practitioner) told him it was because his diabetes was uncontrolled. But he lost 60 pounds in 3 months. I knew that wasn't right.

The symptoms of pancreatic cancer are so vague, it is often missed until it is too late. But my brother's case, well that is disturbing to me. By the time I saw him, we were at his house for Thanksgiving, and his daughter was here from Oklahoma. We were both startled. She is in the medical field as well, and she asked me what I thought. I told her point blank that if he were a patient of mine, and he walked into my office, we would immediately start a work-up for pancreatic cancer. Patients who have pancreatic cancer have a "look" about them, and my brother had that look. But, of course, it took some "tough love" for us to get through to him. I finally had to tell him, "Brent, I think you have pancreatic cancer". I will never forget where we were, how everything looked, etc., when I looked my brother in the eye, so sure of what I was saying. Not wanting to be so sure. It was a terrible feeling. And it was even more terrible when I found out I was right. Sometimes, I hate having the knowledge that I have.

I told him he had to call his doctor that Monday, and demand a CT scan of his abdomen and pelvis. He did that, and his doctor immediately put him in the hospital based on the results. By December 10th, we had the news. My niece was already back in Oklahoma, and I had to call her and give her the news. It was heartbreaking. I had prayed so hard that I was wrong, but I knew deep down that I wasn't.

My brother was driving up until a week and a half before he died. One night he was up going to the restroom, and he fell. From then on, he was bed-bound and out of it. He died almost 3 days later at home, with all of us there (almost- but that's another story...). We had been at his house since the morning after he fell. He lived a little over 2 hours away, so we just stayed there, my niece, sister-in-law, and I all slept in the room with him, just in case. That's how he wanted it, he had made that clear when he was diagnosed, that he wanted his entire family with him when he died. Even though he was non-verbal for that entire time after his fall, I know that he knew we were all there.

I have more that I want to say, mostly about my brother's life, as opposed to his death, so I will do that later. It will be happier, I promise.

And on a somewhat brighter note, Angel is doing some better, she has taken some steps on her own, (which is a huge deal, since she has not walked in 2 1/2 weeks!!

I just felt I had to share this story with you all, in light of Patrick Swayze's passing. May you rest in peace, Patrick.

Thankful Tuesday

This Tuesday, (and always) I am thankful for my job.

Not just my job, but the people I work with. I am a Medical Asst, and work in an Internal Medicine office.

I have been working there for 9 years now. My Grandma's doctor was friends with a Cardiologist I used to work for, and he was hiring two partners who were going to move here from Biloxi. He remembered me from when I worked with the Cardiologist, and asked my Grandma if I would be interested in changing jobs from the surgery office I was currently at. I said yes, because the surgery office had recently gone through some changes, and quality of care was starting a downward fall. I didn't want to be a part of that, so I accepted the position.

Little did I know that the two new docs would become my best friends. The two partners were husband and wife, they had 3 year old and 9 month old boys. They were very nice. So we started in this little house of an office, I had a little teeny office that I shared with scales, patient charts, lab equipment, etc. We had 3 exam rooms between the two docs, and I was their only staff. That was interesting, especially with them being married and not shy about fighting over me, or the exam rooms!! It was very funny sometimes. They shared an office, too.

Now, nine years later, we are a part of a bigger company who "owns" us, and are in a big space, have another partner, and ALOT of staff.

But, we also have 9 years of history together. They are both wonderful friends, and wonderful "bosses". We are kinda protective over each other now. I am now the wife's nurse, and the husband has his own nurse, the third doc his own nurse. It all works out great. I have been blessed to be able to work with them and to have them as such great friends. They were there for me when my Ex left me, they were there for me when my grandparents died, and when my brother died, and with my miscarriages, just everything that has happened in my life, they have been there and been very supportive. She doc gave me both wedding shower and now this past weekend, a baby shower. She was my matron of honor when I got married, too. This meant she had to hold Angel's leash!! (Angel was my flower girl and also walked me down the isle along with my son.)

After my miscarriages, I found out I have a clotting disorder, and had to start blood thinners, in the form of injections twice a day. These cost $200 a month, after insurance. For my birthday, they have me a check for $300 to help with these. Just things like that remind me of how blessed I am to have them both in my life. They are very caring, generous, thoughtful and kind people. Not that a person has to spend alot of money on someone else to be appreciated, don't get me wrong. What means even more to me is when we can cry together, and just know what the other is thinking most of the time. Even now with what I've been going through with Angel, they are so understanding, and she has been checking on Angel and has just been there. You know how important that is when someone is just "there" for you. It's wonderful.

So I am thankful for "my" docs.

One last reminder of the summer...

Well, today, I'm heading to my baby shower, which my doc/boss/friend (AKA "She Doc") is having for me. She Doc and I have been working together for 9 years, and are good friends. I can't wait to get there, and play all the lame games. I LOVE the games, that's the only reason there are going to be any games. She Doc really can't stand the games, but she agreed that we could play them, as long as someone else planned them. So that job fell to my "at work spouse", Felicia, she is She Doc's partner's nurse.

Nobody ever said your work spouse had to be of the opposite sex, did they? I sure hope not. I only work with 2 men, and one of them is He Doc, (She Doc's hubby), and the other one is just not work spouse material.

While I am at my shower, Hubby is going to be taking the bar, the carpet, (basically everything but the squirrel) out of our baby's hopefully very soon to be nursery. And he even says he is going to paint while I'm gone!!!!! Yay! My baby may not have to sleep with his big brother after all!! Hubby says the squirrel will be moving out to the garage in less than a week! I love the little fella, but my baby needs a bedroom.

I hate that we still have no camera. As soon as we get another one, I can take pics of the nursery and the baby things, etc. I haven't had baby things in 13 years! I can't wait to get a stroller, crib, diapers, you know, all that stuff. I just want to look at it, and smell it, and touch it!! OK, yeah, I'm a little freaky about the baby stuff right now. But I am excited! I will have to tell you all about the games and the gifts tomorrow after I come down off of my "baby stuff high". I think it may be addictive. Oh well...

Oh yeah, He Doc called me to ask what type of icing I like!! Hehe, he really is a good man, shopping for a baby shower cake!! I have the best bosses in the world.

Flashback Friday

Well, today I am really thinking about my Angel, so for Flashback Friday, I think back about my past pets.

Back when we lived on the small farm, I had a Sheltie named Dixie. I don't remember getting Dixie, I don't remember naming Dixie. I think she came with the name. She was kinda old. I was only 8ish at this time, so my memories may be a bit distorted. Poor Dixie. My parents don't share my love of ALL animals, so Dixie was chained to a dog box in the back yard. I remember I used to climb in the dog box with Dixie sometimes. My parents just LOVED that!!

Well, a couple times we would come home from somewhere, or wake up and Dixie would be gone. The chain having been broken. We never really know how, or where she would even go. She always came back, though. Eventually, Dixie got something wrong with one of her eyes, or maybe the area around it. I don't know what it was, but it seemed to me that something was eating at it, or maybe it was necrotic. I remember it was open and oozing around her eye. I remember Dad telling me that she was sick.

One day, we came home and found a hunting dog chewing on Dixie's chain. We thought maybe that was how she was getting loose. Apparently she was being sprung by this hunting dog, and going running around Ware Neck with him.

Now the bad part...

One day I came home from school, and went immediately to Dixie's box, as I always did, and I found a puppy in the box!!! The puppy was obviously just born, but the puppy was not Dixie's. I knew it couldn't be. Because if Dixie had a puppy, it would look like Dixie, right? It certainly wouldn't look like a hunting dog. OH. Wow. Now, of course I didn't think of this myself at this young age. I ran in the house to get Dad and told him some dog had a puppy and left it in Dixie's dog box. He came out and looked. He told me that the hunting dog had got Dixie pregnant and that Dixie had this puppy. He then proceeded to tell me that this puppy would not live, no matter what we did, and that Dixie would probably die, too. He told me to go in the house. I did. I had no idea yet what Dad could/would do, so I did go in the house.

I don't know what happened to Dixie or the puppy, but I probably have some idea, after finding out what he used to do with the baby rabbits that would not make it. I caught him way back in the woods throwing one out. I didn't talk to him for what seemed like months. I always wanted to bury them if they died. And if they were sick, I wanted to nurse them back to health. He just threw them out. I remember this very vividly, because I absolutely love ALL animals. Always have, always will.

So wherever Dixie and her baby ended up, I hope that they are at peace....

Vick

There is no picture today, because I'm getting error messages trying to upload it. I'm not going to even try to figure that out right now.

Following some of the ranting I did yesterday, I will continue on today....

It wasn't OK for kids to hear the President speak, but...

WHY is it OK for them to hear Michael Vick speak? Everyone (it seems) was perfectly OK with that. He was actually at a school speaking to children. I would never let my son hear him speak, and if he heard it by accident, I would tell him the truth. That all Vick is sorry for, is getting caught. Why is it OK for a role model who tortured, maimed, starved, beat, and killed dogs to talk to kids?

He says he's sorry. Well, you know, you take a person, pay them millions of dollars for doing something they are good at, doesn't really involve their brain, and they enjoy. Then that person repeatedly tortures, maims, etc etc, innocent helpless animals. Knowingly. That person gets caught. Slapped on the hand, and gets his money taken away. (And spends some time in jail, which I'm sure was SO terrible on a pro football player. PULEEZE)

That person would be stupid not to say that they are sorry when there is someone (NFL) waving his money right back in his face, saying, straighten up, apologize, don't do it again, and I'll give you millions of dollars. Again.

Gee. What does THAT teach our children. I'm all for 2nd chances for some people, OK most people. But come on!!!! There are also players in the NFL who have killed people and got off with a hand slap, and are back in there playing, making millions of dollars, and being so-called role models. They don't deserve to be back in the "cushy" life again, having millions of kids looking up to them. Saying, "well, he killed someone, and he's doing just fine in his life".

So, let me get this straight... Our President is no kind of role model. (I'm not saying that, but some people out there are). But Michael Vick, Albert Haynesworth, Donte Stallworth, and others who I can't remember names right now, they ARE role models? OK , I think I got it now. Wow. This is really messed up.

And I add a disclaimer - I AM A REDSKINS FAN. That does not mean I am happy to have Haynesworth on the team. He is the man who stepped on another players head with cleats on(the player did not have his helmet on, and he was laying on the ground when this happened) and the player had to get stitches. He was with the Titans then. That was uncalled for. So I do not condone his actions, but I can't diss my team just because they made a bad judgement call. OK, you can tell me I have double standards now... sorry. But if I had been asked my opinion, I would have told them NOT to take him. We don't need him. We need a good QB. How did I get on football? I think the looming decisions I have to make by Friday about my Angel girl are making me loopy.

Angel Update

Well, today is Thursday and tomorrow is Friday.





This Friday happens to be D-Day. As in Decision Day.





I talked with Doc Tuesday evening, and we decided that on Friday, we would make a decision about Angel's future. As of Tuesday evening, she had still made absolutely no progress. Still not eating (only 1 can of baby food over 2 days), still not trying to get up. Hubby stayed at home with her Tuesday, and said she did pee once, and ate about 8 cheez-its for him. Nothing monumental.





Now, I think Angel heard me talking to Doc, because after I got off the phone with him, I came out to the living room, and she was trying to scoot around. So I tried again to feed her some more, and the turkey gobbled up a whole can of baby food, a piece of bread, and some pizza crust!!! Then she peed again!!



Yesterday, I stayed at home with her. When I would go to the back of the house to do laundry, etc., I would hear her out in the living room scooting around trying to get up. However, if I try to help her, she panics and stops trying. So it's her way or no way. She did manage to get up on her two front paws, almost in a sitting position. That was the first time since last Wednesday that she could do that, so over a week. Progress!!! She also ate alot yesterday.


Today, however, she has not eaten as much, very little.



But the big question is... She is 14ish. Will she actually ever walk again? If not, what type of quality of life is she having? Sure, she is eating and peeing, but she is basically just laying down, scooting around sometimes, peeing on herself. I just don't know what to do. I know that I sound like a broken record. But she is sending me mixed signals. The Doc told me Tuesday night that usually when the owner of an animal starts hearing the voice in their head telling them that maybe it's time, they are usually right. Oh, this is too hard.

Uh-oh... Politics

Please bear with me as I talk about something that I know very little to nothing about. Politics.

Yeah, I know, sorry...

This has been bothering me since I first heard what was going on. The President of the United States of America is going to address our children. That's not the part that bothers me.

My son didn't hear his speech. You know why? Because his school, like most others, opted to NOT let our children hear his speech. The schools that opted to air it gave parents an "opt out" for their kids to not hear it. All this talk about how people don't want the President to "poison" our kids by pushing his agenda on them. What in the H-E-double hockeysticks??????

I was raised with the belief that the President was a person in a position to be respected. You respect the President, even if you don't agree with his views or how he is running the country. But you listened with respect.

I think it's sad that we don't want the President "poisoning" our kids minds, but it's OK for us to give our kids the impression that the President is trying to tell them bad things. I mean, hey, if the teachers, the schools, and the parents don't want us to hear what he has to say, then it must mean that they don't like him and he is not doing a good job. Right? That's the way I see it. If former President Bush, or Clinton wanted to address the kids directly, would the country be acting like this? I don't think so, I think they would just let the day go by like any other "first day of school", and there would be no further thought. Now, as I said, bear with me - some of the former Presidents may have done this in the past and I just don't know about it, because like I said, I don't follow politics. But if any of them have done it, I certainly don't remember any uproar like this.

I think it is very disrespectful to the President, for him to take time out of his busy schedule to speak to our kids, and then we make a decision to not even let them hear what he had to say???

Monday night, my 13 year old son informed me that I needed to take him to his father's house to get his agenda that he needed for school yesterday. Because he forgot and left it in his dad's van Friday. And he didn't say anything about it until Monday at 5pm. Now, that's what I call responsibility. Yeah right. I read the President's address to the kids online, and I agree with EVERYTHING that man said. There was not a stitch of politics in his speech, no even a hint of any agenda. Basically, he told them they needed to suck it up and grow some responsibility. He also said that even if you are in the worst of situations, YOU make your own future. You don't HAVE to go the wrong way, there are options for you, and you can make the right decisions. Basically, even if you grew up in the ghetto with a drug addict mom, you can still apply yourself in school and do great things with your own life. He said that you gotta take responsibility, because nobody else is going to do it for you. And I agree. I tell my son that all the time. All I can think of about these parents (and I'm sorry if any of you are one of them, really, I do) is that they are the kind who are going to hold their kids hands all the way through life and shelter them and coddle them and never make them take responsibility for themselves. That is not in their best interest. Our job as parents is to teach our children how to make it in real life. That means responsibility.

I will get off my soap box now. I kinda went off on a tangent there, sorry!! But it really made me mad and sad at the same time.

What do you think?

Thankful Tuesday

I was going to have Thankful Thursday because it sounds better, but I can't wait, so, here we have "Thankful Tuesday". I will share something/someone I am thankful for, and you can do the same.


This Tuesday, (and always), I am thankful for my husband. He took this picture on his camping trip. Yes, he loves bon fires, and is borderline pyro.

I was a couple or so years out from divorce, having had a 9 year, no so great marriage. I was in a karaoke bar with the girls. I was wearing sweatpants, sweatshirt, and flip-flops. This complete stranger came over and said he was looking for someone to shoot pool with him, since his friend had left with some girl. I was NOT wanting to do this, because after my attempts at dating over 30, I was over it, completely. Well, the girls had other ideas. So I shot pool with this good looking, possibly dangerous man, and by the end of the night, I was pretty deep into a bottle of my fav - Captain Morgan's. And barefoot. With sweats on. Sad, huh?

Well, it went to so good from there, that I knew it had to be "too good to be true", and I tried to break it off after a few weeks. He wouldn't let me. I had no excuse, and he knew it, and told me so. So, I decided to "give it a little more time and see what happened".

A year and a half later, on my birthday, he wanted to take me somewhere nice to eat, but I said no. I wanted to go look at furniture. So, not wanted to disappoint me, we went furniture-shopping. We saw a nice bed in Haynes, he said we needed to lay down on it to make sure we liked it. So we did. And I closed my eyes, being silly like I was going to sleep. He said, "Well, since you didn't want to go somewhere nice for your birthday, how about marrying me?" I opened my eyes, and there was a ring in front of my face!! Of course I said yes, well, after being in shock, and he had to prod me, "Well...?" I said, "Yes, you idiot, I will marry you!".

I actually called him an idiot in the same sentence telling him I'd marry him!! But he didn't care.

Now, I am very thankful that all came together like it did, because now I have been married for 2 years to a man who I love so very much, and who loves me. And he works, he isn't lazy, he doesn't have to go "play" with the boys all the time, he doesn't waste money, oh, I could just go on and on. And we don't fight. (Because I always get my way!!)

So, I am thankful for a wonderful husband and wonderful marriage.

Now What?...

Well, Angel is home on a trial basis. She has a little pallet beside the couch. We had to drag her on the pallet back to the bedroom last night. Now I am waiting for my husband to wake up so he can drag her back out here. I've never felt so helpless. She still won't really eat, so I have to shove food in the side of her mouth, and she eats some of it, and some of it just rolls back out. She will drink normally, though, so at least I don't have to syringe water into her mouth anymore. But I'm worried because she hasn't peed since she's been home. The vet said he'd call this morning to check on her, so I'll ask him about that. It's so hard to see her like this, and I'm torn because I feel like I'm letting her suffer. But this is something that dogs normally recover from, so it's not like she has cancer, or had a stroke, and I'm just keeping her here for selfish reasons. But it feels like that to me. It's been a week, and she still can't get up, she has to have physical therapy (which is just massaging her muscles, and exercising her legs) twice a day so her muscles don't atrophy. I just want her to get up and walk into the kitchen and lay behind me so I can trip over her, or lay in front of the refrigerator while I'm making lunches, so that I can't get into the fridge. I just want her back.

And I need a new camera so I can take more pictures, especially of her.

Homecoming!!

We are bringing Angel home today. I don't know how this will go. She still can't even stand up, let alone walk. She is some better, but just a little. But we figured since we would be home for the long weekend, we would bring her home and see if maybe when she gets back in her "comfort zone" she will try harder to get up. She still has a hard time eating and drinking, mostly she has been given her water through a syringe.

If I could bake, I would definitely bake those girls at the vets office something good. Of course, they would have to share with doc. I don't know what me or my Angel would ever do without all of them. They have put up with me calling to check on her during the day, coming and sitting in the floor with her, even after they had officially closed for the day, telling me to take my time. They have put up with me sniffeling and crying all over the place. I just couldn't ask for a better vet and staff!! My vet even calls me during the day to let me know how she is! And here's the kicker - her one night in the emergency vet cost over $300. She has been at her regular vet 5 days, and her bill is just over $300!!!!

So, I will just have to get them a sappy card, and BUY them some goodies. Goodness knows if I try to bake them some, they may not be so nice next time I see them!!

Flashback Friday

Today I am going to "Flashback" to approximately 1983. That year I was 9. Now I could be off by a couple years, but that's OK, it doesn't change the story at all.

I am the youngest and the only girl. When I say the youngest, I mean when I was born, my 4 brothers were 17, 19, 21, and 23. Needless to say, I grew up with my nephews. I also have 4 of those. One is 2 years older, one 1 year older, one the same age and one 1 year younger. They were always finding new ways to terrorize me. That was their job, and their goal in life. They were good at it, too.

Back then, we lived in Ware Neck on a small farm. On that farm we had cows, sometimes horses, pigs, chickens, ducks, rabbits, and pheasants. There were several small barns, and one little house-like building. It was about 10 feet by 10 feet. (It may have been smaller, you know how things get smaller the older you get. ) Well that little building had been home to the chickens for a while, and the rabbits for a while (we had alot of rabbits, but that's a different blog). But now it was kinda a little playhouse for me and my niece (she is 3 years younger). The only problem was that I didn't like playing in there, because there were spiders the size of Texas, spiderwebs, and tons of other assorted bugs. All of them Texas-size or bigger. I was terrified of spiders and bugs, of any size (still am).

So my ever-so-loving nephews one day decided they needed to send me in there to get something, I can't remember what, so I dutifully (and stupidly) went on in to get what I had been sent for. I walked in, and the door closed behind me. My nephews had locked me in!! I screamed bloody murder for what seemed like days on end, although I'm sure it was only a few hours, OK, a few minutes....

Finally one of my big brothers heard me and came to rescue me. Not a moment too soon! I know the big spiders were eyeing me up, thinking dinner had just been served! Of all my childhood memories, this was one of the most terrifying one that I have.

Yes, that was a mile long, wasn't it? Everyone still awake? Good, share a "Flashback" with me!

Horizons

Please pretend the horizon is actually straight on this picture - then it will look better...

Speaking of horizons, I am going to be expanding mine a little bit.

Starting tomorrow, we will have "Flashback Fridays", where I will tell a story (knowing me, it will be a mile long, sorry in advance), from way back when. Then I invite you to do the same. I like being nostalgic every once in a while.

Then, starting Tuesday (I was going to start this past Tuesday, but Angel had her problems), I am going to start "Thankful Tuesday", which, just like it sounds, will be me telling about someone/something I am thankful for. Then I invite you to do the same.

Is this starting to sound like instructions, or is it just me?

Well, I came up with "Thankful Tuesday", because I realized that too often, we go through life taking things and people for granted. I know I have. I didn't realize it until we were trying to get pregnant and had three miscarriages back to back, then it took a year after the last one just to get pregnant again. I had never been through something more painful and frustrating. And one day I realized how I had taken for granted my ability to get pregnant and have my first son with no problems.

Sooo...... Let me know what you think.

Update

This will be a short one today. I am exhausted with all this going on...

In all, I have spent 5 hours sitting my pregnant behind on cold hard floors with my Angel. She is completely worth it.

I went to see her yesterday after work, and she ate a little bit for me. That's a very good thing!! Her eyes weren't moving quite as fast as they were, and she wasn't so floppy. She could almost focus on me when she tried to look at me! She looks so much better! She still can't get up, or walk yet, though. Maybe tomorrow...

I hate leaving her there and coming home without her.

My Angel

My Angel - my light of my life. I am very scared for her right now. Even though I know she will be OK.



Sunday night I was washing dishes when I heard her trying to get up. She has a hard time on the wood floors, so you can hear her scramble from a mile away. But this time it sounded different. I went around the corner to see if I could help her. She was turning her head from side to side like she didn't know where she was. And she couldn't get up. I tried to help her, but she just couldn't do it. Then I noticed her eyes. She had nystagmus. If you have ever been drunk and had "the spins" when you tried to lay down, or if you have ever had vertigo. Nystagmus is when your eyes can't focus, and they are kinda twitching. Moving rapidly side to side. Not the lids, the eyes themselves. They are moving and you have no control over it, and can't make it stop. The room is spinning. Angel's eyes were doing that. I told my husband, if she were human, I'd swear she had vertigo. I told him to go to Ask.com and see what could cause nystagmus in dogs. He came up with Vestibular disease.



Well, all I knew was my baby had to be OK. I sat in the floor with her until it stopped, about 15-20 minutes, then tried to see if she could walk. I got her to follow me down the hallway, and back up again, thought everything was OK, it was all over. But when we got back out to the kitchen, she fell, and it started all over. Then she started throwing up. So off the emergency vet we went, I was a nervous wreck. They had to bring a gurney out to the truck to bring her in, and that really did me in! I lost it! They had to keep her overnight, said that it probably was Old Age Vestibular Disease. I picked her up Monday morning and took her to her regular vet, Dr. Wolfe, (he is her life-saver, literally). He said the same thing, and kept her Monday. I stayed home from work, cried all day, went back to see her Monday afternoon, no change yet. He said it could be 72 hours to a week, but he thought she would come out of it.



So scary! But I trust Dr. Wolfe, her life has been in his hands before, and he got her through just fine. He is very gentle with her.



She can't control any of her movements, her tongue just hangs out, because she can't control it, either. She can eat a little, but drops the food very easily, so just a couple bites of wet food is all she can do.



The house is very lonely without her. I miss her.

Withdrawal Stinks.

Ok, obviously here is something I have not yet figured out!!

This, of course, is one of my favorite pictures taken at my favorite place in the world, and I can't figure out how to flip it!!! So just tilt your head to the left and enjoy...

I am anxiously awaiting cooler weather. Or at the very least, some not-too-humid weather. I LOVE the beach and haven't been since July because I'm pregnant and can hardly breathe in the humidity. And when I go to the beach, I want to walk a 1/2 mile down the beach before making camp, because too many people are up at the beginning of the beach. That is not very easy in my condition!

Therefore I am suffering from beach withdrawal. This is very painful. I may have to check in to rehab. Do they have rehab for beach addiction? If they do, they probably charge $15,000 a week. Rehab is out of the question.

SO.... as soon as the humidity goes back down and I can breathe again, the very first thing I'm doing is hitting the beach again!! I miss it SO MUCH!!

Gloucester-Mathews Gazette-Journal

I finally figured out how to do this:

Gloucester-Mathews Gazette-Journal

Yep, It's a Bear

Ok, so I did actually find the proof.



I had looked in the wrong paper, at first. But then I thought about the local paper, Gloucester-Mathews Gazette Journal. And there it was! This picture was actually taken in the back yard of the house across from my parents' house. Wow. That's all I can say. And I was all ready to send my son and parents up the river for fibbing. Shame on me. Shame, shame, shame.

I don't even know what to say.

There are bears in Gloucester!! Wow.

I am such a terrible mom! But at least I didn't tell my son that I thought the bear story was a tall tale, right? I still don't buy him hearing this thing growl at him...

Lions, Tigers, and Bears, Oh My

Yep, that's snow on the beach. Nope, it has nothing to do with this blog. Fortunately, I have not seen the "star" of this blog, therefore, I have no pictures.

I have lived in Gloucester my entire life. We have all kinds of wildlife around here. We have racoons, squirrels, opposums, snakes, turkeys, deer, foxes, farm animals (gotta love the moo cows). But what we DON'T have are - lions, tigers, and bears.

My son informed me the other day that there was a bear residing in my parents' neighborhood. Yes, a bear. In Gloucester. Now, I haven't bought a paper, but this bear was supposedly in the paper yesterday. The story as my son tells it, is that this black bear has been spotted by my parents' neighbor 3 doors down, and another a couple roads down. They have a neighbor behind them, there is a pond, a field, then the neighbor's house. Well, apparently this bear was in that field, and apparently the hunters (who have apparently been asked to help by the local game wardens) came and shot at the bear, missed the bear, then got charged by the bear, and they all jumped in their trucks and left. Of course, this is all here-say. My son also proceeded to tell me that he heard this bear growl, then heard footsteps - while he was in my parent's back yard. So he went in the house. I'm not so sure I buy THAT one...

The bear is apparently 7 foot tall, and is still at large.

I apologize for the overuse of the word "apparently" in this blog, but I have no proof of any of this, except my mom swears up and down it's true... and I can't think of another word that means the same thing, because I'm having a "baby is sucking my brain and I can't think straight" moment.

Did anyone see this bear in the Daily Press yesterday?

I don't know what to make of all this. I have never heard of any bears anywhere near Gloucester County. My son has been known to stretch to truth, take a small comment and run with it, daydream, etc etc. My parents have been known to "humor" him. But it sure is a good story, true or not.

Angel, Part II

Here's my Angel reading up on babies - she's never had to deal with this before, so she better study up while she can.

So to continue my Angel's story...

We got her home that night, and the poor baby would not leave my side for anything. We had no idea what she had been through, what her personality was, but boy, we soon found out. She's afraid of so many things. Ex was getting ready for bed, pulled off his belt, and Angel hid behind me with her tail between her legs. We soon found out she was afraid of guns (just the sight of a gun - Ex was a hunter, so there were plenty of them in house.) She was also afraid of the fly-swatter, newspaper, and thunder. And fireworks!! Oh, my goodness. She had a standing prescription for doggy Valium for July 4th, New Years, and any other time there were going to be little fireworks going off. I haven't been out for July 4th or New Years in 9 years. That's OK with me, because Angel needs me. Even with the drugs, I had to make sure I had pottied, got anything I would need to eat or drink for the night, then I had to give her the meds then "get in position". This meant sitting on the floor with blanket in hand. Angel would get in my lap (all 85 pounds of her), and then I would have to put the blanket over her and hold her with my arms around her, and talk to her while she trembled and shook all over. I felt so bad for her!! If I were to try to get up for any reason while she was drugged, she would try to follow me immediately, which meant she would wobble and fall, sometimes in painful looking positions! So I gave up ever trying to get up until the fireworks were over and the meds wore off. Those days are actually gone now, because she can't hear anything anymore.

Going back, the very first vet appointment she went to, I got bad news. Angel had heartworms, and it was already affecting her liver. She had to go on special meds to get her kidneys "in shape" just so she could tolerate the treatment. The treatment was explained to me as injections of arsenic. She would have to stay at the vets for two separate treatments, for two nights and three days each time. It was also explained to me that the treatment could also kill her. Needless to say- I went on Xanax. I work in Internal Medicine, and am very close to the docs I work with, so they recognized the "lack of me" in my eyes. I had no clue where I was half the time. I felt like I was watching myself from outside my body. I was on my way to a nervous breakdown, I was so scared for my Angel. I bet her previous owner dropped her off because they found out she had heartworms. That broke my heart. I visited the vet every morning and every afternoon, called at lunch time, the vet and his staff were awesome for putting up with me! But she made it through.

Now she is approximately 13. We don't know for sure, since she was a stray, 13 is the vets best guess. Bless her bones (and her heart), she can't squat anymore to potty, she sits all the way down instead, she can't even get in the bed with me anymore, hasn't been able to for about 4 years, when she has been used to sleeping with me for years. (That may have been why Ex is now the Ex, hehe, that girl is always looking out for me in mysterious ways!) Yep, me and my baby are going through alot of changes with her advanced age. She still follows me everywhere, I still can't do laundry or sweep without tripping over her, she still follows me into the closet and then can't back up (she never was able to back up - don't know why...) so I have to climb over her and go out ahead of her so she has enough room to turn around. But sometimes, if she is asleep, she won't hear me get up and go somewhere else in the house. Then she wakes up and realizes I am not where she thought I was, and boy she panics! Those are the only times she moves quickly anymore - when she is trying to find me.

I tell you one thing - she can still hear my teardrops from a mile away, and I will be in Eastern State when she goes to Heaven. She is my very best friend.

Now I have to stop because I am definitely boo-hooing.

Angel, Part I

Isn't she the most pretty girl in the world? She is in my world.

This story is going to have to be two parts, mostly because I am a minor-detail (usually having nothing to do with the story) freak. Sorry...

Thanksgiving 2000. I was still married to Ex at the time. My son was 4. On the way to Ex's Aunt's house for Thanksgiving Dinner. For whatever reason, son rode with Grandparents, therefore, Ex and I were able to talk about Christmas presents. I knew exactly what I wanted Santa to bring our son. A puppy. Not just any puppy, I explained to Ex, it HAD to be a golden retriever. This being because everything I read said that is the best breed for children. And it HAD to be a puppy because you never know what an adult dog has been through, and how they are with children, etc, etc. So we had this all planned out. We were going to get the puppy (from who knows where) and take it to my brother's house for him to puppy-sit, then pick up the puppy Christmas Eve late. That was the perfect plan.

We arrived at Aunt's house, very excited about our plans, and also excited about Aunt's cooking...

We had not been there too long when one cousin asked Aunt "Mom, is that dog still hanging around?". My ears perked up. Aunt replied "yes, poor thing sleeps out there next to Duke every night". Duke was Aunt's golden retriever who resided outside in a pen. I asked Cousin "what dog?". Cousin replied, "some stray". The dog had been there at Aunt's house for 3 days!

I immediately went outside to the front porch where all the guys were out talking. I sat on a chair, and as soon as I did, I saw her. Then she saw me. She came right up on the porch, passed by all the men trying to pet her, came and sat directly in front of me, scooted up as close as she could get, and put her head in my lap! The stray was a golden retriever. I looked down at her, we just looked into each other's eyes, and I fell flat on my face in love with her. I looked at Ex, and I informed him that she was coming home with us. Period. End of story.

He was hesitant, asked Aunt if she knew where this dog had come from, which she had no clue. They lived in a neighborhood where everyone knows everyone, and also everyone else's dogs. She must have been dropped of. Poor baby.

I reluctantly went in and ate Thanksgiving dinner, hoping she wouldn't run away. When we left, she was right there at the door waiting for me. We went to the car, opened the door, she looked up at me, and I nodded at her, and in she went. Right up on the seat beside my son, just like she belonged there! I cried! I'm crying now!!

So, we told our son that God sent her to us for Christmas early, which I firmly believe. So I named her Angel. And my son gave her the middle name "Bear". His favorite cartoon at that time was Little Bear. So Angel Bear it was, and still is.

She is my baby.

Now that you are staring at the back of your eyelids, I will give you a break, you can wake up and go read something interesting, and come back tomorrow for the "rest of the story".

I Know, I'll Blame the Hormones!

Kinda out of focus, I know. But I have to say the wind was blowing a gale. These are flood waters at Aaron's Beach, sometime last year during some storm. Couldn't even get down to the beach, the road was flooded.

There will be only the pictures I have saved for a while, no new ones.

Need to have a funeral.

Camera's dead.

Hubby killed it. (Not on purpose, and can't figure out how.)

Oh well.

Yesterday was Monday, and that's how the whole day went.

Does anyone know why we humans say pregnancy is "9 months"? I'm confused. I am 26 weeks. That is 6 1/2 months, so I should have only 2 1/2 months to go, right? Yeah. Until you figure pregnancy is 40 weeks. That, as far as I can figure is 10 months. I think I can still add/subtract. So that means I have 14 more weeks. That means 3 1/2 more months. uhggg. 3 1/2 more months of giving myself shots twice a day, having braxton hicks contractions, hurting pelvis, swelling feet and ankles. When all I want to do is meet this little guy! I can't wait! But it is all worth it, I keep telling myself that.

I'm getting a bit serious lately, for that I apologize. I think it's all the pregnancy hormones. As soon as I can think of one, I will have a funny story. Maybe I will tell my animal stories one by one. I hope I have pictures of all of them somewhere I can find them.

My hubby didn't have any funny stories about his camping trip. It rained almost the whole time! But they still had fun, and that's what matters. And the pyros did manage to have a bon fire the size of Texas. As soon as I can figure out how to get the pictures off the broken camera, I will share a pic of the Texas-size bon fire.

Sands of Time

OK, this is one of those wacky pictures that I am probably alone in thinking that it's anything but weird. If you can't tell, it is the beach, and sea (or bay) foam. And it has nothing to do with this post, as is getting to be a habit. Unless you call the picture "Sands of Time".

I am asking you ladies for advise. You all seem very capable of giving good, sound advise.

My I begin by saying my parents have a computer that they turn on every 3-6 months, and don't even know what a blog is. So there is no way they will stumble across this.

How do you handle aging parents? My mother is a young 73, very capable woman. I would say she lives in a 55ish body and mind. My father is another story. He is 79 and is living in a 79-year-old body and mind. He has been diagnosed with early Alzheimers, and has dementia. He is "with-it" and normal most of the time. But there are times when he goes off his rocker. It's not pretty. He is getting a bit unruly. He has been told by his docs not to drive anymore. He does anyway. He actually went somewhere to pick walnuts, and didn't even wear his shoes and didn't realize it until someone else brought it to his attention. (We did get a good laugh at that one!) But he is just not safe to drive. He will try to get off exits that don't exist, and run red lights and say that it would not have been safe to try and stop. He runs into things, scratches the car, gets lost, etc, etc.

The problems are:

1. My mom has always been very laid back, never says no to my dad, and lets him do whatever he wants. To avoid getting him too upset.

2. They keep my son.

My dad has no problem putting my son in the car and driving wherever with him. Including interstate, 2-3 hours away for doc appts. My mom is OK with this. I'm not. Been there, fought about that. Last week, my dad accused my son of doing something that he did not do. My son said that dad was in his face, waving his arms around, screaming at him, and had him cornered. My son was afraid. I asked my mom about this, and it was apparently just as bad as my son had said it was. I need to come up with another plan for him. He can probably start staying home by himself some now (Oh, that is making me cringe). But, he is 13 1/2. Gotta start cutting the cord sometime. Start.

I have to tell my mother, who is completely able to keep the new baby when he arrives, that I have to make other arrangements. Because of dad. I don't know how to tell her. That is going to be a big slap to her. But I don't feel safe leaving my big son there, so I really don't feel safe leaving a helpless baby there!

Again, I ask for HELP!! Please don't worry, I don't plan on asking ya'll for help for everything in my life. Really, I don't. But yesterday and today, I am. So, I'm needy sometimes....

Guiding Light

This picture does somewhat have something to do with this post. Kinda. It involves the remote. The remote turns on the TV. The remote helps me tell the TV what shows to record on the DVR.

One of my very favorite shows, (OK, a soap opera), is going off air later in the summer. I can't believe it! I have been watching Guiding Light since I was 3! I remember when I was very young, my mom used to put me down for a nap midday. My room was at one end of the hallway. At the other end was the TV. If I sat outside my bedroom door, I could see directly down the hall to the TV. Mom always had Guiding Light on during my nap. I used to sit there and watch and she never knew! I have been watching it ever since. Except for a period of time where there was no such thing as DVR, and I didn't know how to tape anything on the VCR. That was only a couple of years that I missed. 2 years out of oh, 32 years or so, I think I can safely say I have been watching my whole life!

I don't know what I will do without that show! What will I do when I get home from work? That is the first thing I do. After I am done, then comes the laundry, the sweeping, the dusting, the dishes. No, I didn't mention cooking. I do not cook. I know, I know, shame on me!! But I really CANT cook. Unless it came in a box. I can, however, fry pork chops and make homemade mash potatoes. But, that's the extent of my cooking!!

Sorry, I got off track, where was I....

Oh yeah. I'm gonna really miss Reva, Josh, Billy, Buzz, you know, the whole gang. It's bad enough Philip is going to die again. Maybe. I keep thinking maybe the last episode Alan will actually die. For real this time. Even get buried. But even if that does happen, you know it's not really him, it's a double. Cuz Alan can't die. Ever. He's "unkillable". I just made up that word.

Yeah, I'm addicted to Guiding Light. So what other soap comes highly recommended? (I also watch ATWT). I am open to suggestions.

HELP!!

By the way, Gypsy is the cat in the picture. She is my girl cat. She is mean to the boys.

Stormy Weather

My husband is going camping with his buddy this weekend, so I will be on my own. Ahhh, house to myself. Almost. My son will be home, but he is a 13-year-old, so he will be cooped up in his room doing what 13-year-olds do. Whatever that is.

The fun part is, there is a hurricane a-comin'!!!!!

I really hope it's not a-comin' here, but just close enough to make for some really windy, stormy weather. If it does, I will be dragging my son to the beach with me (because I am a chicken and can't go by myself when the water is like the above picture). I have a phobia of water. I don't know what is in it (or maybe I do, and I am afraid of what I know is in it) and I can't see where my feet are, and I may step in a big hole that will suck me down. That would be certain death. I can't swim. And when it's rough out, it is beautiful, but it could very well come and get me and I will be lost forever. You never know how far up those waves are coming! But I will brave it, along with my son who will be rolling his eyes and asking "Why exactly are we going to the beach when it is raining and the wind is blowing a gale?" It will be worth it, because I just might get some more shots like the one above. Except maybe they will actually be in focus. Maybe.

If there is no blog on Monday, please come rescue us, although by then it may be too late.

Unrelated:

My mother gets back in town tomorrow, so next week, I won't have to wash my one pair of work pants EVERY DAY, because she can salvage the pair I have almost destroyed single-handedly, and also hem the others right the first time!! (My poor mom).

Kinda scary, huh? I tried to sew.

I thought I was being smart ordering maternity nursing scrubs online, since they are $10 cheaper. Well, apparently, it wasn't that smart. I am no Suzie Homemaker. My husband had to tell me how to start, you know, the simple part. Turn them inside out and fold them up, etc. So I did that, and started happily sewing a "perfect stitch". When I was done, and very proud of myself, I proceeded to turn them right side out and try them on.

Oh boy!

They were just as long as they were to begin with, except they had this pucker in them. The pucker was actually my seam! And the stitches were so big I could see them from a mile away!

So, here I am, 35 years old, can't sew. My mother is out of town until tomorrow. I have a sewing emergency! Tomorrow IS Friday, right? I hope so!

How sad is that?? I have to laugh and poke fun at myself, if I didn't, I would cry. And that would be very ugly!!

So, laugh away!!!!!!!!

The Squirrel Part II

Sorry to keep you hanging, but moving on the rest of the story...

Poor thing was covered in fleas, head to tail. We couldn't bring him in the house like that, I have a zoo in here to begin with, I don't want all of them to get fleas, too. So we decided that he was so feeble, he may not live anyway, so we may as well try to give him a little bath. So we did. We used puppy shampoo and luke warm water, careful not to get his little eyes wet. He loved it. He acted almost relieved. We didn't know what to feed him, where to put him, etc. So we had the smaller aquarium that we had used for the lizard when he was smaller, and it had a screen top. So we put him in that with some towels. We didn't even know if he'd make it through the night. Well, we got our answer the next morning. When we got up and went into the "bar room" which is were we put his little aquarium, he had wriggled out of his towels, and was screaming. And all 3 of our cats were up on the bar, looking at this little rat-looking thing, no doubt wondering how to get in there to eat him, and also how so much noise came from such a little guy. He had made it!

Now, at this point we didn't have a computer, much less internet. So we were clueless as to how to take care of a baby squirrel. So, off to the pet store went my husband. He came back with puppy formula and a syringe. He was told that we had to feed him this 4 times a day. Well, I was only a couple months pregnant at the time, and everything smelled bad to me, everything made me feel like hurling. Including the puppy formula. Nasty. But who ended up feeding the little guy most of the time? Me. Fighting my gag reflex the whole time. Well, this little guy was so sweet when he was little! After he got done eating, he wanted to root around under my arms, around the back of my head, etc. Anywhere he could get to. And he loved pockets. Therefore, I named him Root. Or Rooter-Pooter. It fit, and it stuck.

Well, I thought we would nurse him back to health, and eventually put him back out into the wild. My husband had other ideas. As he grew and grew, and got off the formula and on to other things, my husband built him a cage. It is about 6 feet tall, 3 feet deep, and has a little house and trees in it. Complete with leaves at the bottom. This cage is in the "bar room".

Problem.

Baby coming. Need the "bar room" to be changed to a nursery.

That's a story for another time.

But, Root does still live here with us, he is crazy as a bed-bug, the cats don't try to eat him anymore. He is still sweet when he wants to be. But he can be a devil! We let him run around his room sometimes, and in the living room, too. He doesn't break too much.

So that's how you have a pet squirrel in your house.

Yep, that's my life and I love every minute of it!