Today my Dad would have been 80 years old. I was hopeful he would make it well into his 90's. Unfortuantely he passed away while waiting to have a very routine gallbladder surgery, on March 20th of this year. Today is very very hard for me. I was and still am a Daddy's Girl. My Dad was the most important person in my life. Everything I do in life, all my decisions, my morals and values, are driven by what he taught me. And there will never be another teacher as good as my Dad. He was generous, loving, funny, stubborn, gentle, silly. He didn't know squat about politics, but would argue for hours, and piss off everyone in sight. Than he would grin and say "Don't get your panties in a knot, I really don't know what the hell I'm talking about, so just don't pay any attention to me"! He loved to tell jokes and play jokes on everyone. Especially his family. We used to go to the Soup Plantation every Sunday for lunch/brunch. He loved the muffins and always wanted to take some home. Of course he did not want to pay for them. He went through the buffet line, took a half dozen, wrapped them in a napkin and stuck them in my purse. Of course he never told me he did this. Than when we were in the parking lot, he would sneak up behind me and take the muffins out. Well one day, I was walking out of the Soup Plantation and they stopped me at the door. My Dad hurried out to the parking lot and left me in the restaurant. They asked me if they could check my purse. I was stunned. Well lo and behold there were 6 muffins stuffed in my purse. I was so embarrased and was ready to kill my Dad. I apologized and paid for the muffins. When I got out to the parking lot, my Dad was standing there all innocent. When I confronted him, he just grinned and said "Don't you like muffins?" He called me Scooter because when I was little I scooted around on my butt instead of crawling. He took me with him everywhere when I was growing up. I even went into work with him. He was in the Air Force for 30 years and he took me to all his offices on the bases we were stationed at. That is where I leared to type and file. I was his unofficial secretary for years. After he retired he went to work for UC Irvine and I got a secretarial job there when I graduated from High School. We carpooled to work everyday for 2 years until I transferred to the University Medical Center. I cherish those moments we had together. We had long talks about life and laughed our heads off. My Dad never met a stranger. Everyone was his friend. I approach life the same way. You are so much happier when you are happy and smiling and people respond to that. At my Dad's funeral the church was overflowing. There was a lot of crying, but also so much joy and laughter. Because that was what my Dad was all about. He could be stubborn as heck, and gruff at times, but you never ever doubted that he loved and cared about you. He had employees move on to other jobs, but they always came back to visit my Dad. He left his legacy of joy and fun on everyone he met. He loved his family unconditionally. My mother and him would have been married 60 years, last Friday, November 5th. They got married when my Dad was 19 and my mother was 16. They always said they would probably have a 75th anniversary, because they married so young. I had a hard time sleeping last night and was teary this morning, but not anymore. I am going to spend the day joyfully remembering all the good times I had with my Dad. I had 52 years with him and have enough memories to last me until I take my last breath. I hope that I can have the same impression on my daughter, that my Dad had on me. Take care Daddy, I will see you in my dreams. Until we meet again.
Or I guess I should say I am not in Utah anymore. I just got back from my annual 2 week vacation to Utah. Hubs and I load up the chiwi's, and our boat and head out to Fish Lake, Utah every year for two-three weeks. We have been doing this together for the past 17 years, and hubs has been going since he was a little bitty red-headed boy, for about the past 40 years. He has no hair anymore, but he still goes every year. Why every year you ask??? Why not someplace else? Why drive 550 miles with 5 chiwi's? Here is why:
That is hubs with the chiwi's at our campsite at Fish Lake. The view is amazing, the lake is gorgeous. There is no traffic, no noise, the people are friendly. Need I say more?? Well worth the drive every year. Unfortunately, coming back to civilizatin was not as serene. It took me 2 hours to drive 37 miles today to work. And just when I thought I was going to pull my hair out, the drive got even more interesting. As I was sitting in traffic, I looked over and saw a man waiting at the bustop. Now that sounds innocent enough and pretty boring also. Except he was not wearing anything except his underwear. Well I am assuming they were his underwear, as there was nobody naked standing next to him. Dorothy we are definately not in Kansas anymore!!! I am counting the days until next years vacation:)
Hi! I am joining White Wednesday at Faded Charm.fadedcharmcottage.blogspot.com My favorite white things today are my most precious possesions. My animals. I have 6 dogs, all rescues. Four of them are white. First is Apple the inspiration behind Fat Dogs Mom. She is a "bit fluffy" at 17 pounds, and an Applehead Chihuahua. Apple grew up to be larger than her original owners wanted, so they decided to find her a new home. Sad but true. Luckily for me, they chose my home. Me and Fat Dog are very happy together. Second is Chester. He is a Chihuahua/Pug Mix and the sweetest of all my dogs. He is sweet and goofy all at once. Hubs and I joke that if he were a person, he would be Fred Mertz from I Love Lucy. I am positive that if he wore pants, they would be belted just beneath his armpits, just like Fred LOL. His first family lost their home and could not have Chester in an apartment. Third is Sugar. She is a Chihuahua/Poodle cross and is fondly referred to as the Demon Seed. She is 4 lbs of he@@ on wheels. Her family moved out of state and could not take the little demon with them. Last, but certainly not least is Popeye. He was severely abused in his first home. His second home rescued him, but also lost their home, so he came to live with us. Popeye is a big boy at three pounds wringing wet. He has no idea he is a little guy and would take on the world if we let him. His first owners broke his back leg (more than once), and just left it. It is now fused and cannot be fixed. He gets along great with three legs and is as fast as the other chiwi's. Everyone one of these "white wonders" has captured mine and my families hearts. We are thankful for everyday they have been with us, and look forward to many many more. Please take a moment to considering rescuing a wonderful loving animal. You will never regret the love and joy they will bring into your heart and home. Giving an animal a second chance is the best chance of all. Hope you enjoyed the pics of my precious dogs and please hug an animal today:)
Well I decided that today on my lunch break I needed to head out to the Goodwill store. I want to let you all know that I am a nice person, really I am. Unless you try to take something that I really really really want. That would be a ceramic blueberry vintage pie keeper. I walked into Goodwill, got a shopping cart and smiled at the clerk. See I'm nice. The aisles at this particular Goodwill are arranged by color. I proceeded down the green and red isles. Nothing. The trouble started at the blue aisle. I turned the corner and on the endcap of the blue isle, was heaven. Heaven would be the ceramic blueberry pie keeper. It glistened, and I think that maybe I heard angels singing. Or that could have been the homeless man in the corner of the store. This Goodwill is not in the best neighborhood. I immediately ran towards the pie keeper. Unfortunately so did someone else coming from the yellow isle. I am a big girl, but I can move butt when necessary. Of course the fact that I shoved my cart in front of hers might have had something to do with getting the pie keeper first!!! Sorry but anythings fair in love and junk shopping. That's the way it is. May I say she was not a happy camper. May I also say that she was not as "nice" as me. As a matter of fact, after she threatened to beat my butt, she also brought my heritage and my Mama into it. Ok now them is fighting words. I questioned her ancestry also. Fast forward to me running like hell to the checkstand. Just as I was about to be taken off this planet, a lady turned the corner from the white isle, smacked into Miss Ancestry.com and took her down. I took the oppurtunity to run by the cashier, hurl my $5 at her, run to my car and head out of dodge. It was all worth it:)
Sami, otherwise known as Diarrhea Dog, came for a visit this past week. You can read about Sami on this post http://fatdogsmom.blogspot.com/2010/05/match-made-in-heaven.html. Margaret, Sami's new mom, went to stay with my mom for a week. Sami came to stay with me and my pack of crazy dogs. Sami is adorable and very very sweet. But and this is a big but, she is not a normal dog. She was very very very very sheltered in her previous home. She was handfed and also hand watered. She will not eat or drink on her own. She wants to drink out of a glass that you hold for her, and she wants to be spoonfed. She does not know how to be a dog. She wants to be held all day, does not know how to play with the other dogs. When she first went to live with Margaret she did not eat for over a week. Because she did not eat, she also did not poop!!! Margaret called me in a panic. I suggested trying scrambled egg sprinkled over her kibble. Well she ate the egg, but not the kibble. So Margaret started feeding her eggs only and hotdogs. Not Good!!! Her stomach got upset and that is where the diarrhea comes in. YUK YUK YUK. So Margaret quit the eggs and Sami stopped eating again. For a week and a half!!! Margaret took her to the vet, who promptly charged her $400 and told her the dog was fine, she was just spoiled and when she was hungry she would eat. Fast forward to day after vet visit. Margaret goes to stay with my Mom and Sami comes here. With her finicky picky food habits and her diarrhea. OMG. I really really do not have time with 6 dogs of my own to find out what the damn dog wants to eat and to clean up her poos. Don't get me wrong, I adore this little dog, but I have normal dogs. They eat whatever I put in front of them, make normal dog poops, and do not expect me to handfeed them. Poor Sami, it was definately a culture shock for her. 6 dogs all trying to sniff her butt at once, and eat her food that she just stared at. I finally discovered that she will eat Purina wet food if you smash it up with a fork, and offer it to her with a spoon. Not the big spoon, that scares her, but the little teaspoon. Once she gets going, she will sometimes, eat the rest on her own. The water is a big iffy also. If you put the water in a glass and hold it for her, she will drink. You have to make sure that you don't move the glass or make any sudden movements. Now imagine me trying to explain this to my hubs. He is home with the dogs until 1pm, as he works swing shift. His eyes glazed over before I even got to the water part. His response. There's the bowl of water and food. If she eats and drinks. ok. If not, that is her problem. I know he is right, but all I could think of all day long was, did Sami eat, did she drink, was she still going to be alive when I get home. It is not good to have a live dog delivered to you and than send back a dead dog!!! I called hubs everyday before he left for work to see if she was upright. Well she was upright, but she had diarrhea. All over. The yard, the house, etc etc. Luckily I have wood floors. Did I mention that the dog is a long-haired chihuahua? Which means that I had to clean her doggy butt everytime she had diarrhea. Ok, call to my vet to see if I need to bring in diarrhea dog to be checked out. No, she is fine, it is the change in food. Just keep an eye on her. If the diarrhea does not go away in a couple more days than bring her in. So for the past week our family has been on diarrhea watch. Sounds like fun doesn't it. My vet was right, the diarrhea went away. She is getting nutrition because I feed her when I get home. With the small spoon, not the big spoon. She is also used to my dogs and actually acted like a normal dog last night and sniffed one of my dogs butts. It must have been a positive experience, because she tried to play with them afterwards. She is also becoming more independent. And she has become very bonded to me. Why I don't know. All I ever say to her is "eat your food, drink your water, please please please" and the ultimate "quit crapping, please please please". Diarrhea dog is going home tomorow. Believe it or not, I will miss her:)
This Fathers Day, will be three months to the day that my father passed away. My life turned upside down on March 20th, 2010 at 12:30pm. That is when my father left this earth and went to be with my brother, his parents and brothers and sisters that passed before him. This past week I have been overcome with a multitude of memories. I find myself tearful, joyful and breathless all at once. Tearful for my loss, joyful for the years we had, and breathless as I contemplate my life without my father. I have so many memories. My father was a happy, joyful man who absolutely loved life. He was over the top, spoke his mind always and often, honest, hardworking, quick to anger, but quicker to forgive, opinionated, generous, clumsy, and sweet. His nickname for me was Scooter. Everyone who has been special to me, I call Scooter. Always have, always will. When I was little he would take me with him to the Military Base we were stationed at. I would help him in the office, filing etc. He used to paint my nails and toes and make cakes with me. He even set my hair with pink foam rollers. My mom always teased him that he was really the mother. He would just smile. He went with me to pick out my first prom dress for my 8th grade dance. It was baby blue with a big white portrait collar. He told me I was beautiful. When I moved out to my first apartment, he came over almost everyday to check on me and wash my dishes LOL. He supported me through heartbreak (divorce, death of twin boys), and celebrated in joyous times (birth of my beautiful daughter). He was honest with me and told me when he was dissapointed, but was never harsh or judgemental. He made me laugh every single day. He had some crazy sayings that I find myself using all the time. My favorites are "call me anything you want, just don't call me late to dinner", and "if you sit on a rock you will get piles". Not sure what the heck the second one means, but it makes me giggle and gets some really strange looks when I use it. He loved his family above anything and would defend them to anyone and anything. He never ever met a stranger. I mean he talked to everyone. He knew absolutely nothing about politics, but acted like he knew everything. Hubs says I am the exact same way. He could be brutally honest, but was devastated if he hurt your feelings. He taught me to work hard, keep your nose clean, love your family and friends, be kind to all, and laugh every single day. He is a hard act to follow. Happy Father's Day Daddy. I love and miss you more than you can imagine. I will cry on Sunday, but I promise to laugh also. Because that's what you would have done.
I have joined the Prior Lives Party for this month http://priorlives.blogspot.com/2010/06/prior-lives-party-4.html. What fun!!! One of my favorite repurposed items is the old iron gate that I turned into a pot rack. I just love the old green paint on it. It is plenty big enough to hold my pots and pans, colanders, baskets, etc. The funny thing is that I HATE to cook. I really truly do. But I love my kitchen. It is my favorite room in my house. It has a wonderful 1950 Wedgewood stove, is filled with great vintage treasures and is my favorite color. Red. I have also included a pic of an old trunk I turned into a coffee table. I had hubs put wheels on the bottom, so I could move it around easily. See the funny little magazine rack on the side of it. I made that with my own two little hands. I walked right out to our huge firewood pile in the backyard and pulled out those pieces of wood. Than I nailed them together and screwed them onto the trunk. Every couple of months, I have to renail the bottom back together, because the weight of my magazines. I am not a very good carpenter. Than there is my carousel horse that had a prior life as a "Wonder Horse". Remember those??? Well now instead of a little kid bouncing on it, it lives in between my kitchen and diningroom. It always makes me smile:) Finally I finish with the vintage pinball machine. Or at least part of one. Found this at a swapmeet for $10. It called to me. That might be because it was red and yellow, my two favorite colors. Or that it had a bull on it. I love farm animals. It is now funky wall art in my diningroom. :)
Several times a year I get together with my train buddies (we all take metrolink to work) and have a wild party. I had forgotten about this party, until my friend emailed me the link to it today. The video brought it all back to me. EEK!!! We had a blast. Hubs and I brought along our 10 CD collection of 70's music. Can you say Disco till you drop!! LOL Well this is what happens when you have a bit too much Sangria, turn on 70's music and get a bunch of 50+ year olds together in one room. I am the chubby one with the black and orange top, short hair and glasses. I also do not know how to do the YMCA arms. Hubs gave me a lesson after the fact. Oh well, I had fun anyway:)
I am an avid collector of anything and everything. If it is old, junky, chippy or can be repurposed, than that is even better. I have been known to stop in the middle of the street and once even on a major highway to pick up a treasure. My daughter loves to tell the story of when we held her upside down by her ankles so she could grab this cute little white pitcher out of a dumpster. She says she should have turned us into Child Protective Services!!! Hey she made it this far so I must have done something right. Anyway I decided to take some pics of my crazy home and its many treasures and put them into a slideshow. Laugh, giggle, roll your eyes, and have some fun:)
Well I am participating in my first Rednesday at It's a Very Cherry World. Hope I did that right. I am new to this. Red is my favorite color, so I figured this would be right up my alley. Red makes me smile. At times I have even been red. There was the time I walked into the men's room at Marshall's by mistake. Or the time that one of my chiwi's would not come inside after an early morning wee wee break. What made me decide that I should go after him with nothing but a towel wrapped around me? Well I had just gotten out of the shower, so I guess that is why I only had on a towel. The red part comes in when while chasing the damn dog, I tripped, fell down and subsequently lost my towel. Would not have been so bad, except that our paper gets delivered right about that time. And he uses his headlights to see into our yard to throw it over the fence!! Personally I think that qualified me for at least the senior discount on my subscription. Well here goes, hope you enjoyed some of my red treasures:)
My mom's best friend was widowed almost 2 years ago. She has been very lonely. She has always had dogs, but recently lost her sweet little poodle to old age. I have been involved in animal rescue for years, so she asked me to help her find a new companion. I located a sweet little chihuahua named Samantha. Her mom went to live in a care home and was not able to take Samantha with her. Samantha was lonely and looking for companionship. A perfect match for my mom's friend, Margaret. Samantha is a beautiful 8 year old long-hair chihuahua. I went to meet her and she was absolutely darling. A little chubby (aren't we all), very quiet and low energy. And very very affectionate. Took Miss Sammie home with me on Friday evening. She was a bit overwhelmed by my pack (who wouldn't be), but settled in nicely. Mr. Popeye attempted to be a bit romantic with Miss Sammie, so I had to have a talking with him. Who would have thought that a three-legged, 3 lb chi could get his groove on??? Miss Sammie survived my crazy house and we took her over to Margaret on Sunday morning. It was truly a match made in heaven. Margaret was waiting for us and ran outside when we drove up. She just scooped Sammie up, held her close and gave her a sweet kiss on her head. Sammie loved her right back. I think Margaret is not going to be lonely any more.
This past weekend my Mom and Sister came over for a visit. We decided we needed to hit the local antique/junk stores. My friend Debra has a great thrift store called Thrifty Treasures. My sister found some great linens that she is going to use in her quilt making. I found my passion - shoes. Now everyone who knows me wonders why I have a shoe passion. Because I have ugly feet. I mean really really really ugly feet. And they are hard to fit feet also. I cannot wear open toe pretty shoes. I cannot wear high shoes. Basically I get ugly closed flat shoes. Although I do have one pair of three inch closed toe mules that I am wearing today. Not sure why, because after 10 minutes they kill me. But they make me feel pretty and they actually fit my very very very ugly feet. I used to go for pedicures and try to make my feet pretty. But the pedicurist brought over all the other pedicurist to look at my feet, and they giggled and pointed. I can only take so much abuse. Even my family does not like my feet. The dogs like my feet, but I am not sure that is saying much because they also like horse poop, their own poop, and basically anything disgusting. Well enough about the feet. What I found at the thrift store was the most adorable baby shoes and ballet shoes. I saw them across the room and the heavens opened. I ran full speed. I might have even knocked someone over to get to them. The sweetest tiniest pair of little white patent leather Mary Janes. A pair of well worn tiny ballet slippers. I held them and wondered what the sweet little ballerina looked like that wore these treasures. My mom came over and told me that I had almost the exact same little Mary Janes when I was a baby. Oh my gosh, you mean at one time my feet were tiny and sweet??? Really, are you sure?
She wore red velvet. Or at least her loveseat did. I have been looking for the perfect extra seating for quite a while. I have the perfect spot right across from my new china cabinet. Found a fantastic leather chair and ottoman, but it was too big for the space. Put a wonderful old bench that I found on the horsetrail there, and piled it high with my quilts, but it was not quite right. So off I go a hunting. Went to all my favorite thrift and antique stores. Nothing. Off to my favorite spot in cyberspace. Craigslist. There it was. Just the right size, and oh so pretty. With delicate turned legs and the most perfect faded red. Hubs and I jumped in the pickup and headed out to pick her up. She was even more pefect in person. So soft and sweet. Her original owner had passed the year before and her daughter was finally settling her estate. I told the daughter that I would love her and she was going to a good home. She smiled and said her mom would be happy. I promise I will take very good care of her. I have named her Vintage Rose.
Lately I have been finding treasures everywhere. Some have been sent to me in the mail and some have been found at my favorite place in the entire world. Craigslist. I adore craigslist. If I could, I would marry Craigslist and have lots of little baby craigs, or would they be baby lists???? My hubs on the other hand, does not love Craigslist. Mainly because everytime I find a new treasure he has to go and pick it up. The last two treasures have changed his life. The first one was so heavy that he can now sing in the Vienna Boys Choir, and the second treasure has him crawling rather than walking upright. It was even heavier! I told him to get over it. Ancient Man took thousands of years to walk upright, he should be there in about a week and 20 or so muscle relaxers. The treasure I got in the mail, was an envelope stuffed chock full of vintage doilies. My absolute favorite. I collect vintage linens, and this wonderful "secret" friend knew that and sent me this wonderful treasure. My second treasure is an absolutely gorgeous distressed white dresser which is now being used to house our HUGE big screen tv. I live in Southern CA and we have earthquakes. When the last one hit, the first thing that hubs did was run to the HUGE big screen tv. He done good. That thing cost a bundle. Tried to find a big screen on craigslist, but no luck. The third treasure is a handpainted China Hutch. That is the treasure that finally sent hubs over the edge. When he managed to peel himself off the floor, he said some very not nice, or politically correct, things to me. I have forgiven him. Not sure if he has forgiven me, but he can't run after me, since well he can barely walk, so it really doesn't matter. Anyway, without further ado, here are my treasures:)
I know that title makes no sense. Unless you have just hit AARP age, but are still not old enough to get the senior discount. I actually started getting stuff in the mail from AARP two years ago when I turned 50. Today I am 52. Not only does it suck to have your birthday on Tax Day, but I still am not old enough to get the senior discount. Sometimes it is offered to me, and even though it irritates me, I want the discount people! Today my friend wanted to take me out to breakfast for my birthday. We had enough time, so I figured what the heck. I am not going to turn down a free breakfast. We hopped in her car and headed out to Denny's, where America eats breakfast. It is right next door to Walmart, where America shops. I was all happy and glowy and ordered that yummy Grand Slam, with extra sausage. Heck with the calories, it is my B-Day. Calories do not count on B-Day's. It's true, just like drinking diet soda with a meal cancels out all the other calories. I am positive this is a fact, although my hips and thighs are not on board with this. Well I am always up for a discount, so I told my friend that I was going to ask for the senior discount. Mind you, my friend knows my age and she made "the face". This must be a universal face because my mother makes that face when I have done something I am not supposed to. Even though I am 52, she still makes that face. I saw "the face", but I ignored it. I looked the other way and when the waitress came over I bravely said "we would like the senior discount please". Well the little waitress who could not have been more than 12, asked me for my ID. WHAT?????? Matters go worse when she told my friend she was ok. OMG I am definately up a creek without a paddle now. Not only have I been caught, but my friend is now really really pissed off at me. "The look" has now changed over to "I am never ever taking you out again" look. Well needless to say, I did not get the seniour discount. Apparently you have to be 55 to get the senior discount. If that was not enough of a slap to me, after my friend dumped me at my car, I decided I needed another cup of coffee to drink on the way to work. Apparently I was dropped on my head more times than even my mother has admitted to, because I asked for the senior discount again. They gave it to me, but I think it was because they felt sorry for me, or were scared of me. 6 of one, half dozen of another. Little did I realize that I could have gone across the street to Starbucks and gotten free coffee because it is Tax Day. On top of all this, I have not filed my taxes yet. Do you think the IRS will give me a senior discount???
I have been away from blogging for a few weeks. My father and best friend passed away on March 20th. He was 79 years old. He was scheduled for a very routine gall bladder surgery, but never made it to the surgery. He had a massive heart attack, was revived and on a ventilator for three very long days. This was a very heartbreaking time for my family. I was with him at the hospital waiting for him to be taken to surgery. He was laughing and joking. He told me to go on home and just come back when he was in recovery. We had been at the hospital all morning, and it was going to be another two hours before they took him. This was at 3pm. I went on home and when the phone rang at 5pm, I thought it would be my Mom and Aunt telling me he was just going into surgery. Instead it was my mother crying and saying that Daddy was not breathing. Than my Aunt came on the line and said he was gone. I don't remember much after that. My dear husband said I screamed and passed out. When I came to I started throwing up. The phone rang again and it was my Aunt saying they had revived him and to come to the hospital immediately. This was the longest ride of my life. When I got there and saw him, I knew in my heart it was not good. For three days I sat with him, talked to him, held his hand, and kissed him. Unfortunately it was his time to go, and at noon on Saturday, March 20th we said our final goodbyes and Daddy went over the bridge. Just a few weeks before this, my husband and I were saying that we should be prepared, as our parents were nearing or in their 80's. I had no idea this would become a reality. It has hit me like a ton of bricks, but I have to be strong for my Mom and daughter. My parents would have been married 60 years in November, just 4 days before my Dad's 80th birthday. My dad was a wonderful man. He was raised on a farm, one of 12 kids. He was old-fashioned and he never ever met a stranger. He always had a smile and a joke for everyone. I never ever heard a harsh word from him my entire life. I have many many stories to tell about my Dad, but I am not ready yet. Hopefully I will be soon and can share them with everyone. Until than, go in peace Daddy and someday I will be with you again.
Well hubs is going away for a long weekend to visit his parents in Nevada. What does that mean??? Girls Weekend!!!! I am planning a girls brunch. We will sit ouside on the patio, talk for hours on end, eat great food and drink way too many Mojito's. Last time we did this we ended up hemming my kitchen curtains (they are just a bit crooked), and dancing on my stripper pole in my backyard. Well it is not really a stripper pole, it is a pole in a metal umbrella stand. My hubs made it for me, after I convinced him that it would be good exercise. And I think he thought it might be just a little bit sexy also. Please remind me that a 50 something chubby woman should never, I repeat NEVER, try to swing her big booty upside down on a stripper pole that is not permanently mounted. It did help that I had just consumed a fair amount of Mojito's. The first thing my girl friends said when I called to invite them was "you're not going to hurt yourself on the pole again are you?" Some people are just party poopers. I have been practicing my moves:)
Saturday hubs and daughter and I drove out to Banning to visit my parents and my aunt. My parents are in their 80’s and just a bit quirky. My dad calls everyone Little Girl and my mom is constantly trying to feed everyone. We were taking them out to lunch in honor of my mothers birthday, which was earlier this month. My parents are professional eaters. Really, they are. They live to eat, rather than eat to live. I am basically the same way. What can I say, they raised me. I plan meals days and even weeks in advance. My husband still has not gotten used to this. His family barely remembers to eat. He is always telling me, chill it is not your last meal. How do you know it is not my last meal? And if it is, I want to make sure I am eating something I really really like. Wow, now you know why I am Fat Mom and why I have Fat Dog. Genes are very strong in my family. The other thing that my parents do very very well is saying hideously embarrassing things. Very loudly. My family, especially my mother is obsessed with underwear. This is very creepy. When someone passes away in our family, they give away their clothes. Not to goodwill, but to each other. In particular underwear. I know, that is very wrong. But they are from the era, that nothing should be wasted and underwear costs money, dang it!!! I am the proud recipient of my grandmothers and great aunts underwear. When my mother gave them to me, I told her I had plenty of underwear. I had just been to Wallyworld to stock up. She kept insisting. Finally I told her that I did not wear underwear anymore, that I was going camo. She flipped out and talked about it to everyone for days, months, even years. I figured she had finally forgotten about it. NO she did not. As we arrived at the Chinese Buffet, my Aunt started telling my mom that their cousin was not doing well and that she might not be long for this world. She asked my mom who was next in line to receive underwear. My mom immediately gave me a dirty look and said, well don’t give her underwear to Beverly because she doesn’t wear underwear anymore. Mind you, this was while we were standing in a very long line waiting to be seated. Now everyone knows our weird family secret and that I don’t wear underwear. But I do, I swear I do. They were pink granny pants and they had the cutest polka dots on them. At least the chinese food was good:)
I have to make a confession. I break the law. Yes I do. I talk on my phone while driving. In CA that is a no no. I do not do it often, but I just can't seem to ignore a ringing phone. It might be an emergency, or George Clooney calling to tell me he has come to his senses and I am the woman of his dreams:) I have been petrified I am going to get pulled over and get an expensive ticket, so I was thrilled when I recently heard about a "legal" way to talk on your phone without a bluetooth. That is where the boob phone comes in. You can put your phone on speaker and put it down the middle of your bra and your boobs will hold it in place. Sounds pretty clever doesn't it. Problem is I do not have the largest boobs, so it keeps sliding sideways and than the person on the other end gets an echo or cannot hear me. But it is legal, so you have to take the bad with the good. One tip if you decide to try this. If you have a slide phone, be very careful when you hang up!!! When hubs saw the blood blister on my boob, I was hoping he would be jealous and ask me who I was having an affair with. Instead he just looked at me and said "you really need to stop using the boob phone".
Well Fat Dog and her mom have decided we need to go on a diet. When I took Fat Dog to be squeezed, they delicately told me that Fat Dog is, well fat!!! She weighed in at 16lbs 4oz. I forgot to ask if that was before or after she was squeezed. Over the years I have managed to get a bit "fluffy" myself. What can I say? I eat when sad, stressed, mad, happy, and for all major holidays. Heck I eat for every and any reason. When I was in my 20's and even part of my 30's, that was not an issue. I could eat 2 Big Mac's and a large fry and not gain an ounce. I cannot even say Big Mac now without gaining at least 5 pounds. On the other hand, my wonderful hubs can eat anything and not gain an ounce. Of course he is almost bald, so I have one up on him in that department. Anyway, back to the diet. Fat Dog and I started it this weekend, yesterday to be exact. I have her starting weight and I have mine. I would tell you mine, but than I would have to kill you, so I will keep it to myself. Besides, I do not think I would look good in a prison jumpsuit. We started Fat Dogs diet by putting the dog food up and only feeding once a day instead of dry feeding. We started my diet by only having three pieces of chocolate before bedtime, instead of 6. It was tough, but sacrifices have to be made. I also will be using my elliptical machine that I recently bought at a garage sale for $40. The lady I bought it from was "fluffy" also, so hopefully I will have better results than she did before she sold it to me. Fat Dog will watch me do the elliptical tonight. The big difference will be that she will not get a snack for watching me. I will keep you all updated with the progress of our Fat Dog Diet:)
Well hubs and I have decided that the bathroom needs to be remodeled. Not a full blown remodel, just paint, redecorate and replace the toilet. Bathroom is now a icky green (what can I say the paint was only $5 on sale), and sort of a cowboy theme. After all, I do live in Horsetown USA. We are going with a very pretty pale yellow, almost cream, and a bit darker creme for the ceiling and one wall. Will be putting up wainscoting in white, with a wide baseboard and decorative crown molding. This will be white also. This part should be easy. Famous last words!! Where it gets tricky is replacing the toilet. We only have 1 bathroom. Repeat, 1 bathroom. Whenever we do anything that involves the toilet it takes great planning. By planning, I mean that we get out a bucket for emergencies and hope that we do not have to use it. I know icky, but what you gonna do??? Nearest gas station is over a mile away. Last time hubs changed out the toilet, it did not go as planned and it took quite a bit longer than normal. Here is where the what not to do comes in. When using a bucket, do not put your full weight on it. It sort of sunctions you in. I had to be rescued. Luckily only by hubs and not the fire department. That would have been way too humiliating:)
This weekend I received some very sad news. My friends husband passed away. Suzanne and I met on the Metrolink. We took the train together everyday. She worked in Irvine and I work in Cypress. About a year ago, her company moved locations and she no longer had to take the train. Suzanne is a lovely woman and we all loved to hear her talk about her husband, Dave. They had been married for almost 40 years, but to hear her talk about him, you would think they were newlyweds. I had not spoken with Suzanne in quite a while, and now I am sad that we will be brought together again under these circumstances. Suzanne is so young to be widowed and my heart is breaking for her. I hope that in time her heart ache will be eased with the wonderful memories her and Dave made together. Please hold Suzanne in your thoughts today. Take a moment to let your loved ones and friends know how much they mean to you. Life is short.
In honor of Valentines Day, I am going to tell you about the Red Haired Chicken Man. Sounds weird doesn't it. Well 15 years ago I thought so also. I was set up on a blnd date with the Chicken Man!!! I was friends with someone who was dating his colleague. I was newly divorced with a 4 year old daughter. Apparently the Chicken Man had a daughter the same age. My friends boyfriend thought we would be perfect for each other. He was not immediately identified as the Chicken Man. I asked about him and was told he has red hair, lots of chickens and lives in Norco. Wow, how could you go wrong. Howdy Doody goes country. He left a message on my answering machine. No twitter, or texting way back than. I did not return the message. I did not delete it either, as he had a very nice voice. And I kept playing it back to see if I could hear chickens in the background. What can I say? I was curious. He called again. I gave him points for perseverance, so returned his call. We talked for almost three hours. I did not even realize until we hung up that we did not bring up chickens even once. That was a Wednesday and we made a date for Saturday evening. Doorbell rang at 6pm. OH MY GOD, my heart jumped. That is one good looking red haired chicken man. As the evening wore on, I was more and more smitten. I called my friend Jeannette after our date and woke her up. I told her I was going to marry this man. After that night we were never apart. We dated for a few months and than decided it was time to introduce our daughters, and for me to see the "farm". I fell in love with both. I am a true city girl, so it was an adjustment. He had pigs, goats, chickens, geese, peacocks, and two wonderful dogs. My daughter was overwhelmed, but fell in love with the animals and the chicken man very very quickly. Guess what? We did get married. I now call him Bret. Our life has been just what I always wanted. Full of love and life. Over the years we continued with the farm animals,and at one time even had a petting zoo for the local gradeschool. Bret is a wonderful man and husband. Kids and all animals love him. What more can you ask for? We are both headstrong, so when we butt heads it is pretty spectacular. We have had our ups and downs, but that is what life is all about. He made my heart skip when I first opened my door on our first date and my heart still skips to this day. He makes me happy, sometimes he makes me scream, but the most important. He makes me whole. Here's to a lifetime of love and happiness with my Red Haired Chicken Man. By the way Fat Dog loves him too:)
Well by the title this could be a follow-up to the juicing, or possibly an early valentines post. It is neither. It is about Fat Dogs butt!!! Fat Dog has been limping a bit and also scooting around on her Fat Bottom. Well gave the vet a call and he stated "Well it is one of two things, her butt itches or her anal gland needs to be expressed". Hence the Squeeze Me. Remember when you got a dog and all you really had to do was love it, feed it, throw a ball every once in a while, and maybe let it sleep with you and keep you warm? Well apparently that is not enough anymore. I told the vet, but she is a big girl, she goes poop on her own. Even the neighbors are aware of that, as I yell it everynight at 9pm when I let all the chiwi's outside before bedtime. Not quite sure why I yell, I could easily tell them quietly one by one, but I think the yelling motivates them. Well I am wrong, going poop on her own is not enough. So what is this "expressing" going to cost me???? $30!!! Okaay, maybe I could do this myself. Never ever watch a video of a dog getting expressed before or even after you have eaten. Actually do not watch it ever!!! So Fat Dog has an appointment on Monday at 9am to "get expressed". She is going to wear a pretty pink dress with hearts on it, in honor of Valentines Day, and one of her pretty pink pearl dog collars that my friend made her. Just because she has to have a "stinky" procedure, does not mean she cannot dress like a lady:)
Today Fat Dog and I would like to share something that is very close to our hearts. Rescue vs. breeding, and the responsibility of bringing an animal into your home. As you can see, by my pics that we have 6 dogs in our family. All of them, including Fat Dog are rescues, and all of them are spayed and neutered. I take metrolink to work everyday and often I overhear other riders talking about buying a dog, cat or bird. Of course since I am not shy, I jump right in. I cannot emphasize enough about the over abundance of animals in our shelters, especially in light of the current economic crisis. I also have several parrots that have found there way to my house. All of them had prior homes and for one reason or another, those homes could no longer care for them. There are literally thousands of animals that needs homes. Please do not "buy" an animal, please please please rescue. There is nothing more wonderful than opening up your home and heart to an animal in need. I cannot begin to tell you how great it is to be greeted every day by my animals. They ask for nothing in return except to be loved, but give so much more back. If you are unable to open your home to a rescued animal, please think about supporting your local rescue or shelter. Anything helps from monetary support to food, blankets, litter, etc. And please spay and neuter your animals, so that the number of animals does not keep growing out of proportion to the number of homes available to care for them. Fat Dog and I thank you:)
Ok, so I have described myself as a reluctant domestic diva. That is an understatement. But I do try. My hubs loves to garden, I do not. But I love my hubs, therefore I try. We have a ton of fresh veggies right now and I am good at steaming, so we are at least eating healthy and it is edible. Also Fat Dog loves to play in the garden along with the other dogs. She nibbles the carrot tops, and eats most of the compost pile on a daily basis. Therefore, she is FAT. Well we also have a ton of oranges, tangelos, tangerines, lemons and grapfruit. I am not quite sure why my hubs planted so much. Maybe he was planning on me putting up a fruit stand. Anyway, what do I do with pounds and pounds of citrus. Well the answer came to me late one night (or early morning), as Fat Dog and I were having a snack and watching cable TV. JUICE!!! I was inspired by the bushy eyebrows of the Juice Man. The answer to my prayers. How hard can juicing be??? Even I can juice. Live food, live body. So off to Walmart and buy the cheapest juice extractor they sell. Hey, times are tough, have to save some money here. Well after three hours and about a tenth of a cup of juice, I burned out the motor. Off to Walmart again to up the anty. Bought the $60 juicer. Now we're cooking with gas!! Alrighty three hours later and only 1/2 cup of juice. It's time for the big guns folks. QVC here I come. $350 later I have the powerhouse of juicers. This puppy can juice, clean the house and walk Fat Dog. Yeah baby, I'm gonna juice. Hubs comes in as I plug it in and tells me "Don't screw this one up". Wow, remind me why I married this wonderful supportive other half of my soul. Quickly found out why I burned up the other two juicers. You have to peel the citrus before you juice it. HUH???? If I have to peel, I might as well just eat it that way. Oh well, I am committed. I am going to juice. I told the Juice Man this at 2am. Fat Dog said she would be with me all the way. 4 hours later, covered in orange juice, seeds and pulp, with sore hands from peeling oranges, I have two whole glasses of juice. QVC, the juicer is on it's way back. Reason for return: Not user friendly:) I am not giving up. One more trip to Wallyworld for a very simple, any idiot can operate, citrus juicer. You just cut the orange in half, gently press onto the juicing cone (I am a professional by now, I know all the lingo), and presto you have fresh juice. Hubs is holding his breath, Fat Dog is trying to eat the oranges, the other chi's are jumping up and down, barking their support. I press the orange down on the cone, I hold my breath, AND there is juice. Oh my god, it is beautiful, it smells amazing, is a gorgeous orange/yellow, angels are singing in the background. I CAN JUICE!!!!!! I might just be a junior Martha Stewart. Tomorrow I am going to try baking!!!! The pitcher attached to the juicer is filling up, hubs actually tells me he loves me. Fat Dog licks my face (to get the OJ that has squirted onto my chin). I am down to the last golden orange. I pick it up, the sun bursts through the clouds, angels begin singing again, I press it down onto the cone. NOTHING!!! Hubs shakes his head and walks away, Fat Dog farts (too much citrus), the chi's go outside to eat poop , and the angels throw down their harps in disgust. Now for the answer to the million dollar question. Why is it all my mothers fault?? Because apparently she dropped me on my head several times when I was a baby.
I am a 50 something reluctant domestic diva who lives with Fat Dog, the worlds largest chihuahua, 4 other chi's, a chow-chow, several parrots, 70 pigeons, one husband and one daughter. Lover of all animals, pasta, reality tv shows and a wanna-be actress.