I’m Still Here, and Ready for My Re-Do

I’ve been gone so long from WordPress that I forgot my password. It’s actually just a hair off of my normal everyday password.  My brain just couldn’t get there. Thankfully, I try to keep important things like passwords in logical locations, and in the event I ever find them, I consider myself lucky as hell. As you can see, I’m lucky as hell.

I don’t know where to begin. We moved last Spring, and let me tell you, moving was a terrible and thrilling experience. Leaving the home we’ve known for 13 years, I thought it would kill me. Moving to a new neighborhood so far away, ahem, about 3 miles away, but damn far enough that we had to change our phone number, was scary. We had a fun, easy peasy phone number once upon a time, and now even after 5 months I can barely remember the new one. That was the rotten surprise of moving, along with the work. I’ve never been so tired in my life as I was the day the truck came!

I had so many memories in the old house, which was a drag on my conscience, but you know what? I brought the memories with me, so it’s ok. The new house feels like home, too, and the memories from the past didn’t vanish. That’s the thrilling part, along with the newness of living in a different place. I can still remember my children’s little carefree selves, picture them in the old house the way it was when we lived there.

Except now the new owners of my old dark red brick house have tried to tarnish my memories by painting all of the trim white. You know when you move 3 miles away, you occasionally have to drive by the old place and check it out, and when I say white, I do mean whiiiiiiiiiiiite. As white a white as you can imagine. A lack of color kind of white. They painted my old house a shiny bright lack of color. Not sure why I care, but I kinda do. I don’t want to know what colors are inside now either, nope, I don’t care, yet I kinda do…

Also during this time, my good friend, Carrie, decided to pick up her stakes and head for her dream state. Her dream state is South Carolina, or is it North Carolina? At any rate, it should not be confused with my dream state, which is, well, an ordinary dream state. More like a stupor, really. Yep, One o’ the Carolinas is the place she thought to be, so she packed up the truck and she moved her famileeeee… beach, that is…  fair temps… golden sand.  It’s not the same here without her. Your friends miss you dearly, Carrie, but we know how happy you are frolicking barefoot in the sand, and trying to make nice with the hurricanes.

Me, I feel like I’m just trying to keep in step with all the change. Kids grow up, dogs grow old, and we do, too, and it happens so damn fast. Wish it would just slow down and let me enjoy it at a leisurely pace, let me have some of that time back, a re-do, if you will. I feel like the hare, but I think I want to be the tortoise. Does the tortoise see more because he’s slow, or does he miss more for the same reason, can’t get there in time… and the hare, does the hare miss more because he’s always looking ahead, or does he see more because he gets there first? Interesting question, sort of. I think I want to be a turtle.

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Fritzy’s a Cool Cat, sort of

It is waaaay past Sandwich Week, and where have I been?  I couldn’t say except we’re in constant motion, like hamsters in a wheel.   It’s a fun and scenic wheel, squeaky, and with lots of people and things to see and experience, but still a wheel.  I am NOT complaining.  I’m supremely thankful for my wheel, but I’d be ok if it slowed down just a tad once in a while!

Speaking of dogs … ok, I was speaking of hamsters, but stay with me.  My little dog Fritz suffered a few seizures lately, three that I’m aware of.  Vet says he has probably developed epilepsy but it’s not time to medicate just yet.  Over the course of the same last few months Fritzy also began doing something else a little odd, as if seizures aren’t odd enough.  When Johnny travels and the kids are in school, when I’m at work and only the dogs are home, Fritz will spend the day in my oldest son’s room.  Or at least part of the day.  This is not a  room he normally sleeps in when we’re all home, and frankly, he doesn’t spend too much time upstairs.  But when ALL of us are gone, he goes upstairs to Alex’s room.  He must miss Alex the most.

The oddest part is he goes into Alex’s room and then closes the door behind him.  Always.  Alex has senior out, and so is always the first one home.  He calls me at work to say that Fritz has locked himself up again.  What Fritz does in there is anybody’s guess, probably just sleeps, but he is always so happy to see Alex after school!  Alex swears he doesn’t have candy anywhere, and Fritz doesn’t destroy anything.  He just hangs out in his big boy’s room.  Maybe he imagines he’s one of the guys, just part of the band, salivating at the guitars, but never on them.  Strutting around listening to music, doing pull-ups, checking out the trash can, sniffing t-shirts and socks, all the things teenage boys like to do.  Why does he close the door?  Well, silly … privacy, of course!

 

Don’t worry Fritzy. You’ll always be a part of our gang!

Bear, Bear

Want to see a cute puppy?  Well, you’re in luck.  Here is the newest addition to the clan, our new little grandpuppy.  I wanted to post a few pictures of him before he turns into a monster grandpuppy.  His name is Bear, no explanation necessary.  Here he is at 6 weeks:

Misc 011 (Small)

 

With his mommy:

Misc 021 (Small)

 

Now, here he is at 12 weeks looking so much more mature:

Misc 073 (Small)

… but looks don’t tell the story!

Again, with his mommy:

Misc 076 (Small)

 

I’ll do an update next time I see him, which should be around Thanksgiving. 

Sara and Bear spent a weekend with us recently.  It was a workout for Sara (puppy training, you know), and a workout for Zoe & Fritz, too.  They were not sure what to think of this little guy and, of course, tried to show him just who was in charge.  Well, they’d better enjoy that large and in charge feeling while they can, as he will outweigh both of them (combined) in a matter of months.  He’s a pretty tough little guy! 

Isn’t he a sweetie?

Monday, Monday

… and so the week begins.  The alarm will go off at 5:30, and Hubby will hit the snooze.  So, I will, for nine more minutes.  Hubby will smack the snooze again (much to his chagrin), the dogs will stir, then stand up and shake.  This sound is sometimes as alarming as the alarm itself, their tags clanging together in unison at 5:39 a.m.

I will get up and let the dogs out to pee, and then lay back down and close my eyes for a few more minutes, only as long as it takes the dogs to find that perfect spot.  It can take a couple of minutes (and the longer the better, in my opinion, on a Monday morning), which must be the hardest part about being a dog, I think.  Having to find just the right blade of grass to whizz on, especially first thing in the morning!

The dogs will gently scratch the door, usually gently.  Sometimes Fritz will “bodyslam” it, which is another fun sound at 5:42 a.m.  Either way, these noises mean that I must finally get up.  If it is a hair-washing day, I must get directly in the shower.  If it’s the alternate bath day, I can go knock around the kitchen for a bit, make my pretend coffee (not to be confused with the real thing), and bring it back with me to the bath … the hot, steaming, never want it to end bath.  This is almost worth getting up for.  Ok, yes.  It is worth getting up for.

Tomorrow is a hair-washing day.  Damn!

A Fella’s Gotta Do What a Fella’s Gotta Do

Another fatality in my backyard last night.  I called my little darlings in for the night.  Zoe bounds in.  Fritz doesn’t.  For some reason, I didn’t wonder why, I just kept calling.  “Come, Fritz, come on! … FRITZ, oh no, Fritz, NOOOO!!!”  And, here comes Fritz, running toward the door, tiny legs dangling from his mouth.  Ewwwwww!!!

I thought it was a frog.  I love frogs, and we occasionally have big frogs in and out of our pool.  Fritz messes with them, too, and I saved one from his jaws of death one day.  Not this time, this time it was a rat, a limp little guy.   What, do you think I’m going to save a rat from the jaws of death?  Ummm … nope. 

It occurred to me briefly that I needed to document this rat in the mouth thing, the blog, you know, and so I thought about the camera.  It was an eensy little thought I had while sizing up the situation.  It would have required Fritz to hang on to the rat while I fetched the camera.  Not a problem for Fritz, but as this is a dog that likes to give us kisses from time to time (ok, not lip kisses), I decided the best course of action was to remove the rat ASAP.  So, I bang on the door and alert the Alpha Male (and chief Western watcher), to get the hell out of his freakin’ chair and HELP ME!!! 

He did.  He saved the day, thank God!  He talked Fritz out of his latest trophy, scooped it up, and triple bagged it for a proper rat burial. 

Here’s the Alpha Male, with the infamous rat terminator at his side, settling in for a little television.  This picture was taken before the crime, and before the new do (Fritz’s new do, Alpha still has the same ol’ do).

 

I just noticed the Frog shirt Johnny is wearing.  Pure coincidence here, not to be confused with the jumpy creatures out in the yard that Fritz likes to torture.

Shortly after the latest in the string of rat killings, I snapped this picture:

Note the new do, and his bandana in fall colors.  Mostly, check out that tail!  He can swat flies with that thing!  By the way, they are waiting for the peanut fairy to lay one on them. 

Fritz in a calmer moment:

Probably contemplating his next kill …