Great things are happening.

I have taken matters into my own hands. Things have started to happen around here.. and it's only a matter of time before it results in change. I believe I am turning into a dog... because I am starting to bark orders..."Order me up some new windows Mr. Windowmanhusband"... Yes, those sorts of statements. Not that I know what to do with a window once it safely arrives home with Mr. Windowman husband... but none the less... it will be in my posession, so I will be able to bark an order about that.... "Put it in!" I am looking forward to that one.. I will practice it in my sleep.

My sister is getting in on the act of my renovation... because it seems like we are always at "Home Depot" for some reason or another.. and she is helping me to pick up flooring samples, that are all the same sample. I am going to duct tape the new sample to our 40 year old floor today, to begin my renovation process. Mr. Meticulas-reno-man should have quite the hissy fit over that. He may not notice the paint chip samples I will have stapled to the wall. I am so excited... let the reno's begin!!

Good for something:

I really wonder about these children of mine. They never seem to go to bed, and they never seem to wake up. I wonder what would happen if I just left them.. would they notice? I am their personal alarm clock attendant & the person that glues their lamps off at night. Occasionally I am successful at keeping their lights out.. although Mr. Husbandman is better ..... I am not certain of what his secret is... and he has no intentions of telling me... because I have asked.

There is a small motivation to go to bed only occasionally....just so Miss Pipster can get up in the morning and look at the scrapbook pages that I create (throw together) down at the Debbie's Scrapbooking Extravaganza house. Also, I have now left my magic purple box at one of the Debbie's... only because I need to find a way to port my equipment back and forth... so until that time... my purple box is hiding on a shelf. Which could be a major trauma if I decided to do a stat scrapbooking session.... which would be similar to winning a lottery... not likely.

Now, on second thoughts on this morning wake-up routine.... Mr. Husbandman took a great amount of time and patience to show the girl her homework on vowels and consonants.... which ended in a early departure to bed.. (I am beginning to find out some of his secrets..) ... and now she is back at it.... puzzling about with her little blondness, completing the worksheet.... now I am wishing she just stayed locked in her princess palace bedroom.... it was much safer then.

The one and only

I had the most wonderful experience of standing in a line-up today. This line up was a tiny bit long, and not by people, but long in lost experiences.

I stood, quietly and yet kind of quivering in excitement... with new velum stickers, a corner rounder and a new pack of paper. So perhaps I could have vibrating as well, but it was a silent vibration, I just know it.

Along came some people behind me.... the boy had a popsicle with two colours, and there was lots of chatter about that. LOTS. Then of course the slurping that went with the popsicle eating. Slurp- ha, chatter chatter, slurp- ha, chatter chatter.. and on and on it went... and then...something happened ... a very familiar sound came back to haunt me.... someone with chewing gum, stood right behind me.. and chewed and smacked and chattered... for a long long time.

These two people were there very own orchestra. Chew chatter slurp smack. Chew chatter slurp smack, chew chatter slurp smack. I have to say, I was quite proud of myself that I was able to maintain control of my disgust for the length of the line up.... and safe in the knowledge that I would probably never have to listen to that noise again... except if I went back in time to a place called Tae Kwon Do and on the bench there sat a woman, and for the whole hour that was the exact sound that we listened to. Although...that was more of a chew chew chew smack.... a feast for ones ears, and a test of ones patience...

So, upon leaving Micheals (the craft/scrapbooking experience)... I had the wonderful opportunity to feast my eyes on the worst dressed person in Port Coquitlam today..... black spiked shoes, black nylons, black spandex leggings, a large light pink sweater that slithered to the side of one shoulder.. and wait for it.... yes... I will say it... greenish coloured leg warmers. This poor unsuspecting soul was an award winner today without even knowing it.

Uh - oh... it's almost sunny

Yesterday ... enough was enough. I clearly realized that the blondie-Pipster does not understand seasons. She just doesn't get that you "are not" supposed to be able to play in the sprinkler while we are still under the heading of "winter-time". She has been asking for weeks... "weeks"... to go in the sprinkler....and every day I had to come up with a new excuse as to how come she wasn't allowed. It had nothing to do with the fact that wouldn't I look like the prize parent of all, letting the child run in her bathing suit in the winter time..... and then... I paused....

Yes, it's winter time technically... but it has also been up to 19*C some days... so why wouldn't a blond 7 year old not want to go in the sprinkler? I had to think like a 7 year old for a moment, or ten.... "Yes Fuss... off you go girl, you play in that sprinkler till your hearts content" ... "I'll have your hot chocolate ready when you are done playing..."

That girl was ever so cold yesterday after her sprinkler episode... and it actually wasn't that cold outside.. I am hoping that she might have just learned what winter kind of is. Well, it is sunny out again this afternoon.. you never know!!

I am...

I am temporarily missing. Well, my photo is, not me, as in personally missing. I have talked to the people (a lady in a far off place!) that take care of this kind of stuff, and I have been assured that things will resume some form of normalcy after a visit to the parents. I am OK with that.... I can be missing for a while.. I don't even think I will even really notice. Of course if I was personally missing... I am hoping that someone would have something to say about that.

Speaking of missing... where did all my magic buttons go from this blogger thing... what happens if I want to talk boldly.. or in a large fontly manner.. I am missing those options at the moment...and how do you locate that kind of stuff in space... ? It may just be easier to remain missing.

It's always...

Something. That is the answer that I use for most things, that it is "something". It's good for the regular questions.. "what is that?" , "why are we going there?", "what is this?". It's a good replacement word... when you can't find the exact word for clear concise descriptions.. it can be a "something". And what about showing off... it's a great showing off word, and it can be a she or a he. It can be pretty much anything you want it to be.... isn't that "something?" Something helps you to think... "wouldn't it be something....", see it's that magical "replacement word" factor again. It's a helpful little something something...! But then, of course... it's a great word for an excuse. "Something" happened, that's how come I am late... it is always something that holds me up, but nothing in particular that I would like to speak of... so it's the perfect excuse. Managing the excitement about something takes a lot of restraint.. so when I had to give my friend details about this blogging... it was certainly something to talk about.. And what about eating... it gives free reign for pretty much anything in the diet... "how about a little something?"... which translates to: please go and get a double fudge brownie with no calories... It lends itself to the imagination... think of "something"... and while I am thinking of something... I have something to say..... which isn't something new...

I will use this exact word... "something" has kept me from writing for the past four days, which has been nothing in particular, but it has kept me from the keyboard. There was always something that diverted my attention, or zapped my imagination which left me doing other things. Then of course there were the afterwork obligations which gave "something" else to do rather than write here... so once again.. something was always happening. Of course, at one point something else caught my attention and I spent time doing something else... which I am very good at!

Needless to say, everytime I came to this exact spot.. something came up... I am hoping that the next couple of days will be free of somethings and full of somethings... but mostly I am hoping for something to appear before me... about something, or another... but that's a whole other subject.

A couple of things...

I have something going right... I have hair colour on the shelf in the bathroom, unused and the right colour. Hopefully I will find my way to slather it on my head.

In other things going right: I found the reason as to why my stuff on top of the dryer was all dusty-ish. The vent had popped off. That was troubling.. especially when I went to vacuum up the 3 years and 5 new dogs later amount of dryer dust... and the I looked at our vacuum hose... and it is in great need of going to the vacuumcleaner hose heaven. ... so... things going right.... I had just enough duct tape in the homestead to wrap around the vacuum hose and clean up the fine mess of dryer dust. I, yes I, I managed to put the vent back together. I did it. I had to... because nobody else was going to come to my rescue.... the Mr. Backtowork broken back man was not going to be able to crawl over the dryer scrunch behind the washer and squish to get the hose put back on... I had to do it. Luckily I had conveniently put the wooden box of my Bocce Balls right next to the dryer... because after I got the dryer put back into proper positioning with hoses intact... I was stuck behind the washer. Great.. but all things going right... I was able to heave ho over the laundering equipment, step on the Bocce ball box and continue on with the laundering process... which created a huge amount of thankability that came later in the day..... when "jeans" needed to be cleaned before the AM arrived.

Also... a job of jobs to be done, and never to be noticed or thanked... I managed to clean out one of the shelves (in the soon to be renovated as ORDERED by the wife), in the laundryroom.. and that's a whole bag of shoes to be given to the school, which is doing a fund raiser by collecting peoples old clothes and such.

And yet another thing going right... inbetween dryer repairs and being trapped by laundryroom items, I managed to throw together a document for the PAC (parent advisory committee).. in a very single afternoon... and had it back to the school before 3 PM.

Another thing going right is the 15 year old suv has stopped making that expensive sounding sputtering noise... Mr. Smartman figured that out.. so now it purrs like a kitten, which not only makes me happy, but the cat-loving-queen-of-a-daughter that lives here enjoys that very sound.

On more things going right... the weather is sandle weather.. so the girl can manage her very own shoes... and no knives have to be waved around the kitchen, other than just for cutting bread... now that's something going right.

I bought a plant today that is rather shade loving.. and got it at 30 % off... which is good, because I was going to buy it the other day... and it was not on such a good sale! Now, hopefully, with lovely Cicely bossing around all the dogs, and lowlife creatures that may cross her path in dog heaven.. the spot where I planted this plant will have a chance to grow.

I read in the local paper that the bears are waking up.... so, we will have to be wary of scruffy black objects once again...

And last but not least.. on a whim tonight I went down to the Debbie's minus one Debbie to throw pictures, papers and stickers together.. and call it scrapbooking.. all in all I managed to do 4 pages. Not bad for a whimful moment.

I must go ... and do some special prayer... in an effort to repeat the motions from today.... if only I could find some kind of special prayer book.... other than the stand by that I happen to use very often... "Oh, please God....for Christ sake.. can something please go right"... that's a favourite of mine....

The absolute worst...

I was at the dentist earlier today.. it was nothing more than to have my teeth scraped, just for my every three month maintenance interruption of the day program. There was no actual dentist involved in this visit, which is fine by me. Although, the next time he sees me he will have a bulk of work on his hands.. there is a broken wisdom tooth sitting there.... just daring him to yank it out. Which he will do, because he has done those kinds of things before. This kind of work excites him and kills him at the same time. He has told me time and time again that he personally hates that tooth, but he can't take it out, because the two wisdom teeth are my only contact points on the left side. Hmmm... I have had braces... twice before... something has gone amuck. I have straight teeth with no bitability.... which I seem to be losing out on.. because now this lovely wisdom tooth is in the process of doing it's very own extraction. But that's not what I am here to write about, this is.....

As I sat in the "hygiene" chair, (except when I see her, I say Hi Theresa, alright... that's a painful pun, but worthy of a mention...)... anyways.. I can hear all kinds of talking.. from the patient.. with a mouth of of instruments, and flushers, and washers, and drool catchers, and rubber dams filling that space... but this person was still able to talk.. ( I think they forgot the cotton roll things).... So that started me thinking... SHUT UP!!! ... you're at the freaking dentist.. there's nothing to talk about, at all. Unless of course they whap you with something hot.. which is what happened to me...and I have the scar on my lipstick filled lip to proove it. ( I wasn't very happy that day.. now I have instances where my lipstick misses, and floops, and then I have a bit of an "Ooops with the lipstick thing" sort of happening some days if I am not careful) .... so unless those types of things are going on.. wave your hand for freaks sake. And close that open mouth of noise. There is nothing more annoying to listen to than this: waaaayy aaaaaa IIII wwwaaaSS ssaaaaayyiiinggggg IIII ddddooonnnn'ttttt lllliiiikkkkkeeeeee ffffrreeennnnn aaannnniillllaaaa hhooffffeeee. See, it's bloody painful to even try and read, let alone have to listen to. That's the absolute worse. Wait.. on that thought...there is the possibility of course they twang you in a space where no toothbrush has seen the surface/crevice since the last visit to lady hygiene.. who goes by Lady Theresa. That might be the absolute worst.

Scared..but only kind of.

So... I'm all on my lonesome, for only a short while. I have to be at my group in just over an hour, and I do not believe that I will create some form of disaster in my home in that time. It will all happen after the three oclock hour.. once the chicklets get home. See, I really am a good parent.. passing blame onto their children.. tsk.

I wish I had a dog that would eat crumbs, rather than look at me like I am passing off another piece of poison at her. So I do have some crumbs that I have to clean up... some little biscuit and cheese package that Mr. Shoppingman bought for the queenly child for a treat in her lunch. Nice treat.. he knows what he is doing... he knew those packages would drive me to haul out the largest knife in the drawer and try to rip them apart that way that makes packages explode. Then I backed up from the counter to look at my fine floor creation.. just to step on a smallish pile of biscuits hiding behind my foot. I have crumbs... and no one to eat them.

Speaking of knives.. it's not safe to have a hissy fit about putting runners on the feet of an almost 8 year old girl... who insists that she can not possibly put the runners on her feet. So, as I stand having a wrapper attack, then I turn and am holding a huge knife... (even better parenting skills here)... so I turn to her and yell... "great, now I am yelling at you with a knife in my hand!" Luckily the package exploded, so I was able to put the knife down... I am my own comedy of errors.

And from other scarey tales before nine oclock.. the dentist calls. They were confirming my appt for tomorrow, and the chicklets. Of course then I tell her in a real hurry because we are now quickly departing for school after the runner incident... and apologize but have to cancel the kids appt for three in the afternoon. Silence. "You need to give 48 hours notice", she says. Yes, I thought of that Friday night.. but you were closed. "Yes, we would have taken that into account" she replies. "When did you open?" I asked her. "At 8:30", she answers. "Oh, so you would have just found out the information about the cancellation 15 minutes ago, that I would have left on Friday night over 48 hours ago?, I ask her. "Yes", she says confidently. "Well, I am now 15 minutes late from cancelling from Friday night... what else would you like me to do?....I ask. She was silent. I have had my fill of little receptionists invading my ear space and pissing me off, this poor girl didn't have a chance. I will not apologize.

So, back to the original story of the day..... it's all about leftovers, and my thoughts about them. See, when you have left overs.. it is exactly as it is stated. Left overs. Does that mean the left overs get eaten into right unders? I am not for certain... but I am having some trouble digesting that. I also know that there is always someone left out with left overs. If someone went without dinner on the "actual dinner date", then that person goes without once again because of the left overs. So, if that person thought you were cruel once to create the "dinner that has leftovers", then that person will really begin to start taking it personally when it arrives for a second time, even to be despised even more. I am not sure what action should be taken on this. If the person is truely "down and out" over being left out of the family dinner adventure, is it fare to start creating something that will spark their digestive interests. Because really, leftovers were invented to ease the burden of the "disorganized" and "un-talented" in the kitchen. If there wasn't a spark in the beginning... there still wont be one now. Is it at this point that I pull out the pot, boil up the water, and dump the spaghetti in?.... of course I have reservations about that one... because I know there isn't enought ketchup to go around for sauce.... and even with the left overs happily waiting in the fridge, this boring pot of spaghetti will become the attention grabber of the day... and truely the left overs will be leftover leftovers. And that's embarassing.
All of this and more... has me scared.

Nobody knows..

It's all tragedy here.. all the time. This is the next one I have to live through. Mr. Brokenback is going back to work tomorrow. I will miss him, and all his clean ways. He is very tidy... which impresses me greatly. There is never that lived in look at our house when he is around. you know the kind of messes that follow you... tea bag on the tea bag dish, spoon in the sink, papers on the counter from the mail, bags from grabbing a couple of groceries, the pillows on the couch out of place by the stuffed cats (or rather the stuffed cats owner.. the Pipster), the boys big size 8 runners, and his backpack with his coat draped over top of it. Yes, that kind of lived in stuff.

I am going to have to go it alone this week. I am frightened. The dishes and papers are going to start hanging around... and it will all scare me. I am going to have to confer as to what the meal of the day will be.... because I am going to have to start preparing them again. I am so out of touch... a week of him being at home has ruined me... or wait a minute.. I think I was like this to start. Silly me!

Starting tomorrow... reality begins once again for myself and the chicklets, and the horror show continues for Mr. Brokenback.

Complaint Department

I will need to pause this blog for a temporary adventure to the great outdoors. I seem to have had a complaint come through. From not who you might think... but from someone who is stuck working all day today... because she is crazy... not to mention the people that she has to work with... (he he he he) I think I will yellow tag all of the locations of trouble spots in my backyard... for Mr. Brokenback, once his back feels better and he can things again. (there are many... it may look like a constant rising sun by the time I am through)... I am not sure how big of a target that I can put on the broken willow tree outside. I believe that Mr. "Icandoeverything" is very well aware of the tree that needs to be felled before he can build the shed out back. Of course none of that will be happening while he is busy having a disc-related "broken back" injury. In the meantime... I will just go yellow tag everything.. in an effort to accomplish something of real value today... because afterall it is between the 2 - 5 period.. where I am supposedly normalish.

The big picture window

We have a big front window.. and it faces down the street.. all the way to the end. I see things from both sides of the street... as I am inside the curve corner crescent dweller, which gives me the great view.

I used to see what our friends were watching on television, but our neighbours tree has finally just obstructed that view, they never watched anything good anyways. And, on the flip side, one night for fun I set a candle on the table and turned out the lights... they eventually called and wanted to know why we were being all gross and romantic. I came clean and told them it was a ploy.... just to see how long it would take for them to call over. I can see when my girl goes and visits down at her friends house The Pickaspat's.. and Mrs. Pickaspat waves to me.. just to make sure she got there. (On that very name-tale.. I have to say they aren't very Pickaspat worthy of their name at the moment... I will have to see if I can bump up the spatability factor in their relationship...endless hours shopping at scrapbooking store, and some night's out at "The Debbie of all scrapbooking places".. to see if that works!!!) Oh, and I can see the trail... where it takes us to another street that keeps us on our path of adventures to school...I can even see all the way down the street at the couple that got married on the same day we did, even the same year, we even live in similar homes.. so it's a big window, that captures many details to life.

Speaking of capturing... we have a friend who is a "newish" kind of cop... he spends 4 nights of his life protecting the mean streets of "The City"... and when he returns from his shift and makes his way home.. you would think his detail for capturing criminals might be done. Not so... as I witnessed from "The Big Window"... he comes home to find two misfits shlepping off with some poor persons BBQ.... the misfits trade their freedom for the BBQ and take off running.. so now Mr. Copman has a new old BBQ waiting to find it's way home.

And in other big window picture items of detail: Mr. Pickaspat was out walking his lovely dog while Mr. Copman was busy capturing stolen BBQ's... and I got a birds-eye-view of how well the almost big dog but still pup behaves nicely on the leash for him.... good job Mr. Pickaspat.... and see.. this all happens in front of The Big Picture Window.

A simple wish from last week.

A list of things I wish for:

A new kitchen
A new digital camera
A tidy house
A house keeper
A cabinet in the den
A new livingroom carpet
With new furniture to match
And while I am at it…
Some pictures to fill the walls
A remodeled “little” bathroom
A shed outback
An extra room off the remodeled kitchen
A trampoline
A new laundry room, with shelves to put all my plants on
I wish for a stained glass window to go above my antique china cabinet
I wish for some of my neighbour’s to disappear
I wish for a fully stocked craft room
I can wish for many things.. but when it comes right down to it, sometimes you only want a wish for peace of mind… and that’s even hard to find… somedays.
And that was all last week.

Should I or shouldn't I?

I have contemplated that many times over. I over-rationalize, and then under-rationalize, put things back into perspective and start the process over again. The final answer usually comes to me with the inability to manage the mane upon my head. That is how I determine whether or not I should go to work.. where there is a whole pile of sick people. Sick as in sick because of body systems breaking down.. and people nursing them back to health. Me, I'm not one of those, but all the same I am around places where sick people go. So today, I decided not to go to work.. because I have this obnoxious little cold that is living inside of me. Besides all that... I looked at myself in the mirror... and clearly, had I gone to work, the hair would have been unworkable. It would have been a scene unknown to those in the working "white" building. I would have been asked to go home please... your kind is not welcome here.

My friend called me this morning and wanted to know if she woke me up.. that was at 0930. No, I always sound this fresh and lively at this time of day... "it's a good thing that you didn't go to work" she ways.... "the croak of your voice would have had people fearing for their lives". So, for two reasons now I have not made it into work, ugly hair and a bad voice. But, I should say, I do have a good time of day... between 2 - 5 pm... when the tiredness of the morning leaves me, and the tiredness of the afternoon has not set in... in the meantime... I am at home, doing homely things with a husband that does Saturdayish things like make pancakes and sausages for the children... I should be sick on Saturdays more often, I think. No, I couldn't live with that many badhair days.

It's all blood and guts.

Have you seen them coming your way? All the blood and guts.. that's what I am asking about. They must have made it past you....because with all the noise and commotion that went on... with one simple question... you would have thought that someone was ripping out someones' guts out. It's all true. So is the question as to whether my girl would like to join the swim team this year. I took that response as a casual, but not yet confirmed "no." Clearly belonging to a swim team equates to a horror show... of the cheapest quality. "Please don't slice miss 7 year old Pipster....perhaps I'll ask you on a sugary high kind of moment.. maybe I will get a yes". The only reason that I would like the girl to glide through water is for the simple reason.. . although you may have never seen her walk on this earth.. I have. I was hoping for some form of coordination enhancement with a routine of laps in a pool. I was hoping. But for now it's all blood and guts, so she will have to remain a long legged blond Pipster, that looks good in all colours of the rainbow... with beautiful blue eyes.....but for now.. she's stuck wearing red.

Too late for Tylenol

Some days you make choices that you are going to dread.. or kind of dread, or just wish for better times ahead.. yes that's it. I wish for better times ahead with my head. I decided to have Smirnoff Ice.. because for number one they are delicious, and number two.. because I felt like having one. Well, I felt like having one just as I had to make a thoughfelt observation/choice as to whether or not I really had a headache. And I really do. Right now. With an empty Smirnoff Ice bottle. So I guess on those terms it wouldn't be a wise choice to suck back one of my favourite 650 mg of Tylenol Extended Release tabs... that wouldn't be wise.. but then.. I don't believe I am as much as a wise ass as I am a smart ass. All the same... it's too late for Tylenol. I wonder what a second dose of Smirnoff Ice would do... other than put me into a deep dark coma... and then I would have to miss Survivor.. and I can't miss Survivor... that's how I survive until each and every Thursday.. is knowing that Survivor will be coming on. Christ .. my head hurts even thinking about that....

Being big.. all the time.

I have a certain way I do things around here. Everything has a way of going down, and it's my own methodical approach that keeps me waste deep into the many details of life. Like the way I make my bread, in my breadmaker, which was given to... me. Of course Mr. Showoffhusband bread making king believes that he makes a better loaf than me... at all times. Which I say... BMOC to you. "Big Man On Campus.. all the time all the time". (and that's no typo)..... and that's the way it is around here... nothing forgotten, and nothing forgiven. So, tonight... after he had taken the dog for a walk, and taken the girl to her most hated activity of the century... soccer practice, and then made dinner and cleaned up.. and then gave me a nice plate of dinner.... I took the bread out of the bread maker.... his response..... " I see that you had to open the lid to get my loaf out.., not like the loaf you made the other day.. where the lid did it's own self lifting thing.. but that was a nifty trick. Oh, and I see that mine didn't dip in the middle like yours did after it cooled down because yours had that huge top it had on it". Yes, that's right people.. he's big, he's big and bastardly... I am not sure if I got written permission from him to even use my breadmaker... this has to stop. His bigness is beginning to really bother me, big time.

Pray for rain.... pray hard...

This Sunday is the last game of the season for the lady Pipster and all her fine soccer talents. All going well with this little blast of rain clouds that we are having, it may last until the weekend... and these cities have very nasty habits of cancelling games, to "protect the field from over use". I love the cities for their care and compassion about these vast green fields that the kids play on, of course they don't give a crap about (or have any knowledge of) the parking lots that the parents and grandparents walk through and practically break an ankle due to the fine balancing act through the deep and plentiful pot holes. Of course the mere words of cancellation sounds so sad. It would be sad, if you loved playing soccer.. which our Pip clearly doesn't, she doesn't at all, in fact.. with our help as parents we have turned her into a life long soccer despising advocate. I can just see her now... at the soccer sign up... "Just say NO to soccer"... Next year we will not be putting our Pip into soccer... or the year after, or the year after that. I am not certain about why she doesn't like soccer it may be the running, or the confusion as to what to do with the ball, or a whole bunch of girls shuffling in your direction...but, I did manage to see her run the other day.. which has been forefront in my mind..... I mean after you watch a child walk across the soccer field while playing a game.. it's troubling to think that she clearly can't run... so when I quizzed her about her running abilities...she says to me.."Oh, I like to run, especially when I am happy, but that soccer doesn't make me want to run at all".... like I said ... pray for rain.

Coffee if you please.

My husband... who can do many things, has folded up his coffee pot ways. The other day he managed to make himself the meanest cup of coffee that it left him buzzing for two days. I kid you not. ... it all starts off.....
He decides to make a pot of coffee, after a around the clock diet of Advil and Tylenol Extra Strength tablets and a television set.. (because of a bulging-disking back issue that leaves you horizontal for three days straight, and after only a momentary trip verticle puts you almost 6 1/2 feet under)... but he was able to stand long enough to build coffee. I think it was this exact moment when he felt well to feeling unwell once again. Yes, it's confusing for me too.

So, the not thinking fine Mr. Husband proceeds to add probably 10 heaping tablespoons of coffee to 5 cups of water, drinks it all and then complains. "I don't feel well... my heart is just pounding.. and I am all jittery"...Now, me being the kind and lovely wife that I am, immediately starts putting together a jigsaw puzzle of factors in my head.... something similar to this..... (for christs-sake.. you can build homes, take apart clutches in driveways, and put together turkey dinners.. and you can't friggin make a pot of coffee... freaking moron).... and because I am kind of OCDish.. I continue on inside my head.....(look buddy, if you are now looking for sympathy.. you get none, it was all used up last week when you came home with the broken back issue, and once again, when I took the boy over to my mom's house while I was at work all day Saturday, then when I brought you home Sushi for dinner, and then once again, when I was worried about how you would manage on the Sunday with just you and the girl while I was at work.. then of course.. if you were going to be able to make it to the doctor... and now that you are complaining of being jittery after a pot of coffee... but you are still pink, and you can talk, and you are not short of breath, and you are not feeling any other symptoms of a heart attack, or any other heart related issue.. then you my "Mr. Good-at-everything"... are on your own... get over it, drink a big glass of milk, eat a hunk a cheese.. go neutralize your caffeine ravaged system...I HAVE NO MORE SYMPATHY TO HAND OUT TODAY!!).

He is much better now. Although there has been a name change in the family ... he is now known as Mr. Decaf.

A graduate...

Our little Miss Ellpee dog has graduated. The incident that left her caged for 3 weeks the first weeks of November, then inside bound following that time has now past.... she has spent the last number of months leashed the very second that her nose hits the great outdoors. Until now. Miss Ellpee now goes out of the house by herself. My little Pipster had something to say about that, of course that was after she went into heart failure... and then brought herself around from it. "You are going to kill her" she shreaked.... "how can you kill our last dog??... get her back here... I can't talk to you... how can I be in the same home with you... you dog killing mommy!!!" That was my Pips reaction to Miss Ellpee going outside... I quickly had to do damage control... apparantley there was lots ot be done. Pip did realize that Ellpee wasn't going to fall over that very second and croak.... a rather oops on my part...

Anyways.. now that Miss Ellpee is free to roam our wild praries on her very lonesome... it is comical to watch her antics while she spends the whole 47 seconds out there. Half that time is spent standing on the deck wagging her tail every so slowly back and forth, followed by a slight intermission of dog details... then a scoot back to the sliding glass door... where her eyes practically bulge out of her head in terror that we have already forgotten her. I open up the door... and it is with great relief as she enters and wags her tail like she has spent hours wandering along our great lands and has finally come home to rest. She runs to her cage and sits on her pillow to rest. My little German Shepherd is a graduate.