Friday, July 24, 2009
Cup or cone?
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
My little corn dog
At first he was only interested in licking the salt and butter off of the cob. Then, he grasped the concept and went to town, pulling the kernels off of the cob like the civilized mutt that he is.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Yes those were angels singing
And that light? Yep. Direct from Heaven. I'm happy to report the occurrence of some "eurekas" within the past few days.
- New porch lights were purchased since ours are broken. Even though new porch lights don't fall into any of our favorite categories; fun, travel, alcohol or bullshit, we managed to take care of it without getting snippy with one another. We were grownups, the lights broke (ok last year sometime) and we got new ones. End of story.
- Sunday morning was spent organizing and putting things away, rather than throwing them into the office, closing the door and pretending that they don't exist. This all occurred before we went out and did fun things. We also quit while we were ahead, meaning no meltdowns, complaining, bitching or stuffing things into drawers (NICK!).
- Dinner last night was accomplished without the use of a telephone or a computer. We ate what we had and it wasn't half bad. Go us.
- This morning, Nick reiterated that he finally understood the concept of eat less, lose more. Woohooo. Glad to have you on board, this will help tremendously.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Therapy
Our long weekend in Vegas was many things. It was a new car, a new patio, furniture, paint, landscaping, a big screen TV, video games, etc. The most important thing though was that it was time for Nick and I to get away from chores and responsibilities and to let loose for an extra long weekend. This picture just about sums up the weekend. This is a self portrait on the Deuce on our way back to our hotel from Freemont street after an unplanned evening of fun. We didn't even remember taking this picture because it was on one of the disposable cameras.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
NIMBY
I've mentioned in a previous post that Chino runs a tight ship in his backyard, monitoring all surrounding backyards through the fence. Last night, we had a bunny incident (security breach) that really got his juices flowing. Let me back up for a second though. Chino's evening hadn't started out all that well. First of all, its warm. Chino hates being warm and is usually rather dramatic about expressing his annoyance, wandering around panting or flopping down in a huff on the kitchen floor. Adding to the existing drama was Nick, who decided to (had the nerve to) mow the lawn. If you know Chino, you know he has issues and irrational fears of random objects, which defintiely extend to most lawn care equipment, especially lawnmowers. I personally feel that he thinks that a lawnmower is some sort of variation of a vacuum cleaner, so the hatred is inevitable. I'm still trying to figure out why he's scared of the wheelbarrow. I swear, I never even tried to put him in there. Anyway, during lawnmowing time, he tries to casually hide under the guise of hanging out with me. I think if you asked him he'd tell you that he was trying to keep me safe from the evil machine, I won't argue with that. His ego needs a little boosting. So then, as if his evening could GET any worse, the weed wacker comes out in full force. So now there is a panting, worried dog, wandering around the house aimlessly, trying to escape the evil forces of lawn care equipment.
After the yard work was complete, it was time for some frisbee in the backyard. Not only had the sun gone down, but the lawnmower and weedwacker were safely tucked away in the garage. We got out the orange frisbee on a mission to run the mutt, but he wasn't having any part of it. This was odd, because the orange frisbee is usually a sure thing for at least a few back and forths. Enough to take the edge off anyway. Instead of humoring us in our game of fetch, Chino was intently sniffing the ground in one small spot. I went to investigate to make sure that there wasn't anything gross. To my dismay, I saw a tuft of fur, that definitely hadn't fallen off of Chino. I called Nick over for a second opinion. His opinion: "looks like something" and then he hit it with a shot from the hose so it would disappear.
Neither Chino nor I were satisified with this sub-par response. Chino kept sniffing that same spot, even flopping onto his back to roll around in it. When I saw that happening, I KNEW that something was there, or at least had been there. He was wallowing in some sort of smell, happy as a pig in shit, or whatever it is they say. Once he had coated himself in the scent - perhaps as some sort of camoflauge, he went on a reconnaisance mission, starting with the perimeter of the fence.
He didn't have to walk very far before we realized that the nose was onto something. I thought I spied more fur which should have definitely been attached to some sort of animal, so I asked Nick to check it out. After all, isn't that why we're married? Critters, bugs, shoveling, and toilet plunging are just a few reasons that I can think of off the top of my head. Tufts of fur in the backyard definitely fall under the critter category, especially when its obvious that they should be attached to something. Once Nick got closer, he told me to stay put and hold onto Chino's collar to keep him away. Turns out that there was a dead baby bunny in the backyard. Nick had stepped on the little guy while he was mowing the lawn. We didn't have to look far before we found his VERY MUCH ALIVE sibling. Before we attended to the live one, Nick put the deceased baby bunny into a cardboard box - to keep it out of the mouth of Chino, who was now making odd noises and pulling furiously at his collar.
Turns out, the little ones had been tucked away under our grass in a bunny-fuzz lined nest. This was all made possible because stupid Tru-Green told him to cut the grass HIGH, providing the perfect nesting opportunity for furry critters. We tried to prod the live one to get the F out of our yard, but he wasn't budging. I was hoping that he'd stay and that we could keep him, despite Nick telling me NO about 50 times. Since leaving him back there was not an option due to you know who, Nick grabbed some gloves and picked him up. Well, I had no idea that bunnies could scream, but this one started shrieking like crazy. At this point, Chino is going absolute ape shit and had to be escorted back into the house, where he proceeded to raise hell and demand to be let back in on the action.
After hearing the screaming, we saw Mama Bunny come running over to investigate the comotion. She wouldn't come close - smart - so we put the baby on the other side of the fence and proceded to take Seargent NIMBY for a walk to give her some time to collect herself and the baby. We had to force Chino to walk becaues he wanted to check in on the situation in Sector 1 of the back corner of our yard. Thankfully, we seemed to have kept him away long enough for the bunny crisis to be averted....
Fast forward to this morning. Chino is out in the backard, in the same corner. I see his nose burrowing in the grass and immediately call Nick to make sure that there hasn't been any bunny inflitration (see above policy regarding critters). Chino continues sniffing and Nick confirms the presence of additional Bunny Fuzz, indicating that Mama has returned. Now really, we tried our best to get the live one to safety, but at this point, it seems that this rabbit is operating with a few Easter Eggs short of a full basket. Why in this things right mind would you return to the SAME SPOT where one baby was tragically and accidentally crushed and the other was almost a squeaky toy? I feel that we've done all we can for them at this point and are hoping that she's hopped on over to someone elses yard.
After the yard work was complete, it was time for some frisbee in the backyard. Not only had the sun gone down, but the lawnmower and weedwacker were safely tucked away in the garage. We got out the orange frisbee on a mission to run the mutt, but he wasn't having any part of it. This was odd, because the orange frisbee is usually a sure thing for at least a few back and forths. Enough to take the edge off anyway. Instead of humoring us in our game of fetch, Chino was intently sniffing the ground in one small spot. I went to investigate to make sure that there wasn't anything gross. To my dismay, I saw a tuft of fur, that definitely hadn't fallen off of Chino. I called Nick over for a second opinion. His opinion: "looks like something" and then he hit it with a shot from the hose so it would disappear.
Neither Chino nor I were satisified with this sub-par response. Chino kept sniffing that same spot, even flopping onto his back to roll around in it. When I saw that happening, I KNEW that something was there, or at least had been there. He was wallowing in some sort of smell, happy as a pig in shit, or whatever it is they say. Once he had coated himself in the scent - perhaps as some sort of camoflauge, he went on a reconnaisance mission, starting with the perimeter of the fence.
He didn't have to walk very far before we realized that the nose was onto something. I thought I spied more fur which should have definitely been attached to some sort of animal, so I asked Nick to check it out. After all, isn't that why we're married? Critters, bugs, shoveling, and toilet plunging are just a few reasons that I can think of off the top of my head. Tufts of fur in the backyard definitely fall under the critter category, especially when its obvious that they should be attached to something. Once Nick got closer, he told me to stay put and hold onto Chino's collar to keep him away. Turns out that there was a dead baby bunny in the backyard. Nick had stepped on the little guy while he was mowing the lawn. We didn't have to look far before we found his VERY MUCH ALIVE sibling. Before we attended to the live one, Nick put the deceased baby bunny into a cardboard box - to keep it out of the mouth of Chino, who was now making odd noises and pulling furiously at his collar.
Turns out, the little ones had been tucked away under our grass in a bunny-fuzz lined nest. This was all made possible because stupid Tru-Green told him to cut the grass HIGH, providing the perfect nesting opportunity for furry critters. We tried to prod the live one to get the F out of our yard, but he wasn't budging. I was hoping that he'd stay and that we could keep him, despite Nick telling me NO about 50 times. Since leaving him back there was not an option due to you know who, Nick grabbed some gloves and picked him up. Well, I had no idea that bunnies could scream, but this one started shrieking like crazy. At this point, Chino is going absolute ape shit and had to be escorted back into the house, where he proceeded to raise hell and demand to be let back in on the action.
After hearing the screaming, we saw Mama Bunny come running over to investigate the comotion. She wouldn't come close - smart - so we put the baby on the other side of the fence and proceded to take Seargent NIMBY for a walk to give her some time to collect herself and the baby. We had to force Chino to walk becaues he wanted to check in on the situation in Sector 1 of the back corner of our yard. Thankfully, we seemed to have kept him away long enough for the bunny crisis to be averted....
Fast forward to this morning. Chino is out in the backard, in the same corner. I see his nose burrowing in the grass and immediately call Nick to make sure that there hasn't been any bunny inflitration (see above policy regarding critters). Chino continues sniffing and Nick confirms the presence of additional Bunny Fuzz, indicating that Mama has returned. Now really, we tried our best to get the live one to safety, but at this point, it seems that this rabbit is operating with a few Easter Eggs short of a full basket. Why in this things right mind would you return to the SAME SPOT where one baby was tragically and accidentally crushed and the other was almost a squeaky toy? I feel that we've done all we can for them at this point and are hoping that she's hopped on over to someone elses yard.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Flying funny farm
It is apparently news to everyone that Southwest has an open seating policy. Well, unless you're the people that boarded behind us, in which case - it is "first come first served" seating policy. Seriously, the whole way down the jet way, they kept asking each other where they were sitting. One of them thought he was in B-60. Right. You go ahead and find that seat and let me know how that works out for you. Now, lets think a bit...why would you line up by number if you had an assigned seat? Just asking. So this group of about 8 people boards the plane (in boarding group C, mind you) and just keeps saying over and over how "ridiculous" this is and how "stupid" it is that the seating arrangements are how they are. Thankfully someone offered to trade seats with the most spastic one so that she could sit with her husband and shut up.
Across the aisle from me, the mother of the group starts to make friends with the people she's sitting with. We hear all about the ridiciulousness of the seating policy, how many kids she has, what they've been doing on their vacation, etc. The kicker was that she also proudly proclaimed that she hadn't changed her "clock" from "Pittsburgh time" at all during her vacation. I hear this and look over, expecting a clock - nope, she meant watch, so I was disappointed. I half expected one of those big ass clocks that rappers wore around their necks. Anyway, she did mention that the math got a little confusing sometimes, but she wasn't changing her "clock" just to change it back when she got home. Pretty stupid I think, because I happen to know that she was out there for 10 days (they started in Phoenix, went to the Grand Canyon, Hoover Dam and then finally Vegas) looking at the wrong time. We were only out there for 5 days and I had no trouble whatsoever resetting MY clock. Hell, Verizon even set my phone FOR ME. Gotta love them satellites.
The flight progressed at a snails pace...screaming and crying babies as well as the typical parade of people who have to get up and go to the bathroom. All the while, the crazy lady is providing her life story as well as showing her vacation pictures to perfect strangers.
As we approached Pittsburgh, we also found out that she has a 4 acre property, with a pool, about 5 miles outside of the airport. Her vacation - which sounded pretty darn fun - wouldn't be complete unless she got a picture of her house from the airplane. Poised and ready, she took the camera out of her fanny pack and pressed herself up to the window, repeating over and over that she just wanted to see her house, but they always miss it when they fly (always is a loose term as she also told everyone she's only flown 3 times). Despite finding the farm, power plant and mall that were all near her house - her vacation ended without the perfect aerial view of her property. Our vacation ended nicely with Nick and I surviving the flight--without getting to sit each other, due to the above "ridiculous" seating policy, getting our luggage, reuniting with our mutt and heading home.
Across the aisle from me, the mother of the group starts to make friends with the people she's sitting with. We hear all about the ridiciulousness of the seating policy, how many kids she has, what they've been doing on their vacation, etc. The kicker was that she also proudly proclaimed that she hadn't changed her "clock" from "Pittsburgh time" at all during her vacation. I hear this and look over, expecting a clock - nope, she meant watch, so I was disappointed. I half expected one of those big ass clocks that rappers wore around their necks. Anyway, she did mention that the math got a little confusing sometimes, but she wasn't changing her "clock" just to change it back when she got home. Pretty stupid I think, because I happen to know that she was out there for 10 days (they started in Phoenix, went to the Grand Canyon, Hoover Dam and then finally Vegas) looking at the wrong time. We were only out there for 5 days and I had no trouble whatsoever resetting MY clock. Hell, Verizon even set my phone FOR ME. Gotta love them satellites.
The flight progressed at a snails pace...screaming and crying babies as well as the typical parade of people who have to get up and go to the bathroom. All the while, the crazy lady is providing her life story as well as showing her vacation pictures to perfect strangers.
As we approached Pittsburgh, we also found out that she has a 4 acre property, with a pool, about 5 miles outside of the airport. Her vacation - which sounded pretty darn fun - wouldn't be complete unless she got a picture of her house from the airplane. Poised and ready, she took the camera out of her fanny pack and pressed herself up to the window, repeating over and over that she just wanted to see her house, but they always miss it when they fly (always is a loose term as she also told everyone she's only flown 3 times). Despite finding the farm, power plant and mall that were all near her house - her vacation ended without the perfect aerial view of her property. Our vacation ended nicely with Nick and I surviving the flight--without getting to sit each other, due to the above "ridiculous" seating policy, getting our luggage, reuniting with our mutt and heading home.
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