Well, Just Lookie Here!

I’m movin’ all uptown and everything!

Well, this is uptown for ME. My dear, sweet, good friend, Debbie, over at Jadehollow, made me the little button you now see to your right under the “Grab My Button” banner. You can copy my HTML code underneath it and add this onto your blog if you love me with your whole, devoted, undying heart like me and want others to be able to find me easily. For that I will pay you vast sums of money in foreign currency thank you sincerely and try to be less annoying.

Now this is the sad part: Debbie made this over a month ago. She spelled out EXACTLY how to apply it so that the truly computer deficient among us (she was looking at my picture) would be able to follow her VERY-easy-and-beautifully-simple instructions. Did I find that helpful? Well, I would have if I were just merely deficient. However, I hold the World Cup title in this category.

I kept meaning to contact my IT department for support but she kept graduating, and going to parties, and being a general teenager, so let’s just say she’s been backed up. But this historic night I actually invoked my rare thought processes and remembered to go back to Debbie’s email, get IT in here, and utilize all this good information. And look what “we” accomplished!!

NOW HEAR THIS – IT BENEFITS YOU!

Because Debbie got sick of listening to me whine and groan and complain she wanted to help me troubleshoot all these Blogger problems, she sent me to a place called Southern Hospitality for information on a program called “Windows Live Writer.” Debbie said it was absolutely the best thing since raccoons rode on hogs’ backs (you’ll have to see her post yesterday to know what the heck I mean. Those folks got some STRANGE stuff goin’ on in Georgia….!) She guaranteed me I would love it and stop using salty language (doesn’t that make me sound like I’m 90? I’ve got a 5th grade boy and a 90 year old woman – geez – it’s gettin’ BUSY in here). All I can say is, I DO love it! I can feel myself cuttin’ down on salt now, dangit (oops!). And then I found out Debbie herself wrote a post about this on Sunday (which I somehow missed) and it is even MORE informative and it's called Windows Live Writer - Oh, How I Love Thee. She will teach you how to do extremely creative things with your photos.

So if YOU hate struggle with Blogger and moving photos around, or would like to work in a much more professional, user-friendly program, then head on over and get the down-low and the download.

And Debbie? I’m sorry I’m so late to the party but you KNOW how I like to make an entrance!

W.A.S.P.P.P.

No, not the "White Anglo Saxon Protestant" type. Minky recently redefined it into "Whirring Angry Stinging Pestilence from the Pit of Perdition."

On Monday, Minky went one round with these little beasts of barbary and lost badly with a TKO (technical knock out for you non-pugilistic types). And I think it was our fault. She loves to snap at flies and we have encouraged her every time they find their way into the house. It has become part of her job description. We forget she isn't very discriminating when it comes to small, buzzy, and wing-ed. I think that tripped her up early Monday morning when she was outside.

Grizzly called my name while I was still in bed and he was downstairs making coffee. He is up early for work and sometimes finds me already at my desk. But if not, he does his thing (after turning off the snooze button at least eight times and no I am NOT even CLOSE to exaggerating), and takes off for work.

There are only a few exceptions to this routine. They all involve horror. The very second my name is called or he appears at my bedside, something has gone desperately or freakishly wrong. It stops my heart every time. My only response to hearing my name under these circumstances (or when he uses that tone) is and will forever be, "WHAT'S WRONG?!!!"

A sample list of his responses:

"They've attacked the World Trade Center." (Clearly the worst one ever.)

"Somebody bashed out the window of your car."

"There's something dead down here (cat hunting by-products)."

"I think Bess is home." (A beloved cat who had been missing for months - it wasn't her. It was a demon in white fur who summarily tried to rip my head off. He doesn't always check his facts before mustering me in my groggy state.)

I have never been summoned to breakfast, say, with the table all set and waiting for me. No exquisite sunrise has been announced. No bouquet of roses ever beckons. No, my name in the morning equals calamity. I really think he better balance this out one of these days or I may suffer a major coronary before hitting the floor running.

Monday morning, I heard my name. "It's nothing," he intoned. "I just want you to see something." Uh-huh. I bet it's not breakfast. "Minky's face looks swollen. I gotta take off and I just wanted you to keep an eye on her. I think she got bitten by a black widow and it could be crawling around the house somewhere." Okay then, honey. Thanks. I'll go back to bed now. Why would I worry? Have a good day. I'll try to remember to fend off poisonous attacking arachnids as I watch our dog go into anaphylactic shock. Bye-bye, now.

I took one look at Minky and either something bit her or she had taken up the habit of chewing tobacco and had perfected the art of stuffing her gums. The left (your right) side of her face was swelling. I grabbed the not-so-great camera (because I still can't remember we have a better one) and snapped this:

She looks a little concerned.

I hauled the kids out of bed and said, "Hold her while I shave her." I was, of course, looking for the telltale sign of two puncture points indicating spider fangs. Looking through hair is impossible so I needed access. Shaving is my immediate answer. If you ever develop head lice, don't come and see me. There'll be no nit-picking. I will shave you bald. Here's how poor Minky appears this morning:

Doesn't she look depressed? Well wouldn't you if I'd only shaved HALF your face? I promise, if I see you, I'll shave your whole face, eyebrows included. Oh, and the vet commented I removed her whiskers, too. Critics. I was trying to save her life. From a black widow. Who was stomping through the house heat-tracking us.

In the next few hours after Mr. Shock-and-Awe left for work, Minky's face swelled to three times this size and her eyes became red and puffy. I had dosed her with Benadryl but it didn't do much. So, it was off to the vet for a MONGO shot of Benadryl and then a steroid injection. And by then we could see little pin-pricks rising under her chin and on her snout where it became obvious the black widow was non-existent and a wasp, or wasps, had been the culprit(s).

Minky will be a wiser dog now, I hope, though she won't be ready for any close-ups on the silver screen with her unfabulous hair-don't. And the house has been temporarily restored to a bastion of safety against marauding black widows, and that is a comfort.

However, Grizzly remains a serious threat to my health.

(Legal disclaimer: Grizzly insists he also mentioned wasps as a possibility. My hearing was temporarily disconnected after I heard "black widow." The End.)

Copyright 2009

Mea Culpa...Mea Crazy Woman of Many Cousins

Do you see these people? These people are all cousins of one sort or another from my biological father's side but connected to me through a PRECIOUS aunt (they are her children and grandchildren). The Aunt and I haven't seen the biological father for over 22 years for good and compelling reasons which don't belong in this post.

I haven't seen these cousins for about seven years for no good reason at all except life busyness and proximity. Last week we reconnected and did we every have a BALL. Unless you're around family all the time (and we're not) you forget that family wackiness and humor runs exTREMEly deep and is like finding an oasis in the Sahara. Right after our visit they left for Arizona to see more family on his wife's side. They'll be back tonight. What does this have to do with anything? Well, I'll tell you at some point, I'm sure, after you sit through some boring details. You're free to go now.

The guy standing to my right and hiding behind me is my cousin, Joey. (His lovely wife, Laurie, is on the far left and the rest of these beauties are their daughters. Except for me, Bo, and The Wild Man. We are not their daughters.) His brother, Rick, (another cousin) lives in Florida. His wife, Tricia, just arrived in town a few days ago and so we have another cousin we want to see. She is coming over for breakfast tomorrow. We haven't seen her in about four years.

Two days ago, my mother informed me that a niece from her side (my cousin) is in California on business. She lives in Illinois. She wants to get together. I haven't seen her in ten years. She also wants to pick up another cousin who actually lives in California. I have never met this cousin and had no idea she was in my same state. I lived part of my life in close proximity with her dad back in Illinois. Apparently, he and I don't talk very often. In fact, the last time we exchanged words was 32 years ago. We're not mad at each other and have never had a falling out. Our family just doesn't do "close" all that well. We only knew each other as kids for a short time and, well, life goes on. And one side or the other would have had to make family a priority. That didn't happen either. We have a serious legacy of non-bonding issues. Everybody can live without everybody else. (MAJOR EXCEPTION: My family - the one YOU know - is making deliberate changes to this rule and maybe cousins are beginning to feel the same.) So, these Illinois/California cousins are coming to town on Saturday and it would be good to see them.

But what are the odds that nine cousins from four different states, and different sides of the family, all converge, unbeknownst to each individual group, after many, many years apart, and all within a week of each other?

Do you realize the true, earth-shattering, underlying meaning of this? I HAVE TO CLEAN MY HOUSE!

I have bathtub caulking that is good enough for my kids' tub but not good enough for a cousin to look at if they sit down on the toilet and happen to see around the shower curtain. I have carpeting in the study that makes the dogs happy when they smell themselves on it, but which probably wouldn't recommend itself to visiting familia. I have kitchen grout that is light gray in design and dark gray in reality. Time for the Clorox and a toothbrush. I have a mountain of laundry - yes AGAIN. Who has time for laundry when you're graduating people, for Pete's sake?! I'm gonna try out that "move a mountain" Bible verse today and see if I can get my Mt. Everest over to my neighbor's house. Maybe they'll do it all before they realize it's not theirs.

So once again, I beg your kind and caring indulgence as I remain A.W.O.L. in Blogsville preparing for family and three weekends worth of graduation parties still to attend (including Bo's!). I am not visiting you. And I'm a worse person for it. I am missing out! But I sure coulda used you in the bathroom last night as I chiseled out the caulking with a hammer and screwdriver. I hit the tile with my knuckles so many times my hand looks like I'm a prizefighter. I could make up a great story to go with these bruised knuckles. Maybe I'll just abandon this whole cleaning and functionality idea and lay a bunch of empty booze bottles around while sprawling on the couch. I'll display my fighting hand and describe my most recent barroom brawl. I'll wave them toward my messy kitchen and empty fridge.

Yeah, that outta put off the next visit for another 20 years or so. I should SERIOUSLY write a book on entertaining. It's obvious I have a gift.

Copyright 2009

Whatcha Been Chewin'?

Minky and JoJo would like to bring you today's update. It's a good thing, too. I'm still just a little spittin' mad at Blogger. It's better this morning but not fully fixed yet. (The dogs had to create this photo post backwards because nothing can be rearranged.) So I'm leaving now to assume my position on the fainting couch and sending this post to the dogs.



Hello!! MInky here, with news from my beautiful self. Look how the sun highlights my eyes in this remarkable photo. And do you see how I have my two front socks pulled up just perfectly so they match? I amaze myself. I am 8-months-old now and looking for ways to "go greeen" by composting the trash, recycling, and down-sizing. If I find it, I chew it.

Here's a small sampling of some recent work:

That red thing in the middle is actually supposed to be for dogs to chew on. Every time I chewed it, it got smaller and smaller. It’s kinda freakin’ me out. Pieces of it are showing up when I go outside to do my business. That’s not right. It seems to be following me.

(Oh my good grief. Could I BE any more bored? JoJo here. If you’ve been puttin’ off a root canal, now’s your moment. It might be more entertaining. Minky's probably gonna drag on and on about this piddlin’ life of hers and makin’ a big deal outta nuthin’. She’s never faced a bear or caught a cat by the tail. You know, the stuff REAL dogs do. I’ll just keep sittin’ here prayin' an anvil falls on my head.)

Anyway, look at these! These gloves are made out of Kevlar. My dad got some for work and they worked out great so, he got some for me, too. He thought we could wrestle and they would save him from my shark-like teeth. He was wrong. I found where he left the gloves and finished ‘em off.

Underneath that red thing below is my chipmunk. You might wanna look away if you’re squeamish. I pulled all of his guts out and I think those plastic things on either side might be his bowels. Yeah, I think I disemboweled him. When I bit down on him they made squeaky noises. I have that problem once in awhile with my digestive system. So does JoJo. Hers are loud which I think is AWESOME. It happens when she flops down on the floor.

Here’s me in mid-flight catchin’ the chimpmunk carcass. If you look right in the middle of that gray SUV behind me, you’ll see if heading right for my open jaws.

(You did NOT TELL THEM about my personal issues…..what a rat fink. You must work for the Enquirer. I have no dignity left.)

Well, I could be a professional journalist, I'm sure. And every good reporter needs a few pencils, some gum to work off the energy of waiting for that breaking story, and a comb to maintain a good appearance. That's why I hunted these up:

So then, in the spirit of journalism, let me ask you Madam JoJo, what have you been up to?

Well, finally a subject of interest to your readers. I haven’t been chewin’ stuff up all over the house like someone whose initials are Minky. I bark when I need to, like when people we know come over. And I generally maintain my happy-go-lucky attitude when you’re not buggin’ me, which leaves me precious little time for happy attitudes, I can tell you. But here's a shot of me in one of those rare moments:

Okay, well that’s enough about you. Now let’s get back to me.

Here’s another GREAT action shot of me on the fly. Check out that hang time and the air I got!

I look kind of chubby, but I'm not. I'm really just fluffy. My mom says she looks kind of fluffy, but she's not. She's just chubby.

So that's the latest from the home front right now. Happy tails to you from me and Happy Jo!!

Copyright 2009