Goodbye, sweet little Molly-dog. Thank you for all the laughter and happy memories.
Showing posts with label molly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label molly. Show all posts
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Sunday, January 17, 2010
New Video: Molly "Sneaks"
Molly the Spaniel-dog has the starring role in this epic masterpiece of the sneak! ;o)
(For the uninitiated:)
To "sneak" means to semi-crawl along the trail of a treat, maintaining a low profile so as not to spook said treat, usually across a space of at least three feet. This is an ancient treat-hunting technique used by Spaniel-dogs from time immemorial.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Something for Everyone
Well, there's something for everyone if everyone is interested in eyeglasses, dog grooming, nature trails, crochet scarves, "shoe benches", or any of the other fascinating subjects included in this entry.
Last night, Donald and I finally got around to ordering some new glasses.
It's about time. I knew it had been a while-- maybe even over a year-- since we'd had our eye exams and got the prescriptions, but I had no idea (until I pulled out the papers and read the date) that it had been nearly two years.
Seriously, though-- this is ridiculous! I know times flies and all that, but nearly two years?! (Minus a couple of months. The exams took place early December 2007.) That's just. . . scary.
Life keeps slipping away, one day at a time. . .
Well, moving right along. . . (g)
We're trying Zenni Optical, an online source with exceptionally low prices and (as far as we can tell) a pretty good reputation for quality, too. You can get a pair of glasses (no extra frills, but perfectly good glasses) for a mere eight dollars (+ a flat rate shipping charge of $4.95). If you're in the mood to splurge ;o) there are other options (glasses for $15, $19, and so on-- tinted lenses-- anti-glare coatings-- etc.). Honestly, though, some of the $8 models were my favorites from the bunch.
Our new glasses should arrive within a couple of weeks. I'm excited! It's been more years than I care to admit since I had new glasses-- mostly because I rarely thought about it. (And when I did, I dreaded the hassle of the exam and picking out new frames and ended up putting it off.) These old ones are showing their age and are ready for retirement.
I'll probably take photos of the new glasses once they arrive. (Thought I'd give you all something to look forward to. (g))
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Last night, Donald and I finally got around to ordering some new glasses.
It's about time. I knew it had been a while-- maybe even over a year-- since we'd had our eye exams and got the prescriptions, but I had no idea (until I pulled out the papers and read the date) that it had been nearly two years.
Seriously, though-- this is ridiculous! I know times flies and all that, but nearly two years?! (Minus a couple of months. The exams took place early December 2007.) That's just. . . scary.
Life keeps slipping away, one day at a time. . .
Well, moving right along. . . (g)
We're trying Zenni Optical, an online source with exceptionally low prices and (as far as we can tell) a pretty good reputation for quality, too. You can get a pair of glasses (no extra frills, but perfectly good glasses) for a mere eight dollars (+ a flat rate shipping charge of $4.95). If you're in the mood to splurge ;o) there are other options (glasses for $15, $19, and so on-- tinted lenses-- anti-glare coatings-- etc.). Honestly, though, some of the $8 models were my favorites from the bunch.
Our new glasses should arrive within a couple of weeks. I'm excited! It's been more years than I care to admit since I had new glasses-- mostly because I rarely thought about it. (And when I did, I dreaded the hassle of the exam and picking out new frames and ended up putting it off.) These old ones are showing their age and are ready for retirement.
I'll probably take photos of the new glasses once they arrive. (Thought I'd give you all something to look forward to. (g))
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I think the hummingbirds (or at least "our" hummingbirds) have moved on to their next stop. We haven't seen them in two or three days (and I had already heard that they generally leave this area around the middle of October). The patio seems emptier without them. . . Time to dig out and fill our other bird feeders, I guess!
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The hummingbirds may have left us, but my sister and brother-in-law, who have been living in the Montgomery area, are planning to move back to the coast soon! I know my family will be happy to have them close by again, so that we can see more of one another.
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Over the weekend, we gave Molly another haircut. It's not 100% done (Is it ever?), but it is much better than it was before. Part of the time, she was fairly well-behaved. ("I don't really want to do this right now... *whine whine* Why do we have to do this? I really don't like this very-- Oh! Is that peanut butter you have there? Well, I don't mind if I do!") Part of the time, she was not. ("Mess with my feet, will you? I'll show you! I'll somehow manage to lie on top of all four feet at the same time so you can't reach them! Nanny-nanny boo-boo!" . . .Or even "Ohmygosh ohmygosh OHMYGOSH!! They're making me lie on my side!! NOOOO! NOOOO! I shall surely perish a most excrutiating death if I am made to lie on my side!! NOOOOOOO!!")
As we struggled to cut her hair (and nothing but her hair)-- sometimes against her very vehement wishes-- I renewed my vow to never have another dog of such a grooming-intensive breed. It simply doesn't work out well.
If I could go back in time, maybe I could familiarize her with the grooming process when she was still an impressionable puppy. Maybe then it wouldn't be such an agonizing ordeal to brush and cut her hair on her legs, feet, and underside. Maybe she would never get in such a state that I feel terrible, guilty helplessness over her mats and tangles. Then again, maybe there's nothing we could've done to make it easier. Either way, from here on out, I don't see myself ever owning a spaniel (or similarly haired breed) again.
As we struggled to cut her hair (and nothing but her hair)-- sometimes against her very vehement wishes-- I renewed my vow to never have another dog of such a grooming-intensive breed. It simply doesn't work out well.
If I could go back in time, maybe I could familiarize her with the grooming process when she was still an impressionable puppy. Maybe then it wouldn't be such an agonizing ordeal to brush and cut her hair on her legs, feet, and underside. Maybe she would never get in such a state that I feel terrible, guilty helplessness over her mats and tangles. Then again, maybe there's nothing we could've done to make it easier. Either way, from here on out, I don't see myself ever owning a spaniel (or similarly haired breed) again.
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Also over the weekend, we took a quick trip to Meaher State Park (on the Baldwin County side of the Causeway). It was ok, but not as nice as the Hugh S. Branyon Backcountry Trail(s). There's simply not as much trail there, for one thing, but my opinion might also have been influenced by the hot, muggy weather. (We are still waiting for autumn to get here and stay for more than a couple days at a time.)
On the boardwalk, we saw lots of small crabs, some water fowl, and a raccoon. No turtles, snakes, or alligators, though. (I wouldn't have wanted to see them too close up, anyway.) I did a little filming there, so I'll try to edit and post that soon. In the meantime, here are a few photos that we took:
Donald added a couple of doors to the "shoe bench" by our kitchen door. (He built the bench years ago using leftovers from the bookshelf he built.)
After years of having it just as it was-- always right next to the door we use most, to house a few pairs of our most-frequently-used shoes-- it suddenly seemed odd to have a bunch of shoes in close proximity and open view of the table where our guests sit and eat. Isn't that the way these things usually work? You go a long time without noticing something, but once you see it, you realize that Something Must Be Done. So Donald found a piece of wood that would work-- the kitchen-sink-shaped cutout the builders made in our counter-top-- and with a little sawing, sanding, spackling, and painting, the shoe bench had two doors. We filled the middle compartment with a basket, and the result looks much more "finished" than it did a few weeks ago!
Here's a "before" photo:
And a couple of "after":
That'll do nicely!
On the boardwalk, we saw lots of small crabs, some water fowl, and a raccoon. No turtles, snakes, or alligators, though. (I wouldn't have wanted to see them too close up, anyway.) I did a little filming there, so I'll try to edit and post that soon. In the meantime, here are a few photos that we took:
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Donald added a couple of doors to the "shoe bench" by our kitchen door. (He built the bench years ago using leftovers from the bookshelf he built.)
After years of having it just as it was-- always right next to the door we use most, to house a few pairs of our most-frequently-used shoes-- it suddenly seemed odd to have a bunch of shoes in close proximity and open view of the table where our guests sit and eat. Isn't that the way these things usually work? You go a long time without noticing something, but once you see it, you realize that Something Must Be Done. So Donald found a piece of wood that would work-- the kitchen-sink-shaped cutout the builders made in our counter-top-- and with a little sawing, sanding, spackling, and painting, the shoe bench had two doors. We filled the middle compartment with a basket, and the result looks much more "finished" than it did a few weeks ago!
Here's a "before" photo:
And a couple of "after":
That'll do nicely!
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I think the last time I mentioned crochet on this blog was back when I had decided to try a scarf that was basically a bunch of Solomon's knots (love knots, lover's knots). I gave it a try, and after the first or second row didn't know what to do next. It was night, and I was tired, so that may have accounted for it. Whatever the reason, I couldn't see where/how I was supposed to attach the next row into the previous one. I'm going to give it another try-- and maybe seek advice if I still can't figure it out on my own-- but in the meantime, I happened upon a different scarf pattern.
The Luna Lovegood Scarf (pattern by Melissa Helton) is so called because it's based on an accessory worn by a character of that name in a Harry Potter movie. I liked the looks of the scarf, and none of the stitches seemed too difficult for a beginner. Overall, I'm happy with how it turned out. It is a little wider than I pictured it, but that's not really a problem with a scarf. I think my beginner status showed itself in a couple of spots, but I can definitely wear it without wrapping it up to my eyes to protect my identity. ;o)
The Luna Lovegood Scarf (pattern by Melissa Helton) is so called because it's based on an accessory worn by a character of that name in a Harry Potter movie. I liked the looks of the scarf, and none of the stitches seemed too difficult for a beginner. Overall, I'm happy with how it turned out. It is a little wider than I pictured it, but that's not really a problem with a scarf. I think my beginner status showed itself in a couple of spots, but I can definitely wear it without wrapping it up to my eyes to protect my identity. ;o)
(There are a few more photos on Flickr, if you'd like another look.)
Oh, and this was also my first attempt at blocking. I still don't know if I did it perfectly, but I do think it made a positive difference in the shaping and arrangement of the stiches, so that's good. At least I have a little blocking experience under my belt, now.
Scarf stats:
Yarn: Red Heart Sport, "Aran Fleck"
I used a little less than two 2.5 oz (70g) skeins.
Hook: G (I think...)
That's not what the pattern called for, but I knew it didn't really matter that much, seeing as it's a scarf, and I didn't have whatever hook the pattern did call for.
Time: I don't know. I don't really time my crafty pursuits. It's supposed to be fun, and I don't like timing things. Makes me feel like I'm in a race. . . It probably took longer than it "should" have, but I'm still a beginner.
Dimensions:
Approximately 5.5 inches (14cm) wide and 78 inches (198cm) long.
Oh, and this was also my first attempt at blocking. I still don't know if I did it perfectly, but I do think it made a positive difference in the shaping and arrangement of the stiches, so that's good. At least I have a little blocking experience under my belt, now.
Scarf stats:
Yarn: Red Heart Sport, "Aran Fleck"
I used a little less than two 2.5 oz (70g) skeins.
Hook: G (I think...)
That's not what the pattern called for, but I knew it didn't really matter that much, seeing as it's a scarf, and I didn't have whatever hook the pattern did call for.
Time: I don't know. I don't really time my crafty pursuits. It's supposed to be fun, and I don't like timing things. Makes me feel like I'm in a race. . . It probably took longer than it "should" have, but I'm still a beginner.
Dimensions:
Approximately 5.5 inches (14cm) wide and 78 inches (198cm) long.
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Last week I received a jury summons. (I mentioned it on Twitter, so if you read those updates, you already know about this. But in that case, you already knew about some of the other things I've written about, too. Let this be a lesson to you. . . or something. . .)
The last time I got a jury summons was my first time to get a summons-- the first time I'd ever been notified that I might potentially be selected to sit on a jury. (When was that, exactly? I probably ought to try to figure it out in case they ask. Seems like they did ask something about previous jury experience, last time. . .) So, seeing as it was my first time seeing The Law up close and personal, I was interested, nervous, and kind of excited, even though I knew it was my civic duty to be completely bored and annoyed by the prospect of sitting on a jury. Everyone is (or so you'd think, based on what you usually hear and see people saying).
I happened to see a (2nd? 3rd?) cousin on my first day there, and she seemed bored and nonchalant. Unfortunately (?) I don't find it so easy to be bored and nonchalant. ("A bundle of nerves" might be closer to it, actually. This makes certain aspects of life more difficult, no doubt, and I'll never be really "cool", but at least it's probably also more dramatic and interesting this way.) In any case, being interested/excited made the first part of the experience. . . well, interesting and exciting. As time passed, some of that wore off. By the time it was over, I was ready for it to be over.
This time around, I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I'd rather not have to go, but since I don't really have a choice, I'm trying to feel interested in it. It is interesting, when you're actually sitting on a jury and not just sitting or standing around waiting to be selected. I honestly feel a little sorry for people who don't feel even the least bit interested in the prospect of a brief period of jury duty. It must take a lot to keep them occupied and interested* in life in general. . .
*Note to self: Practice using synonymns for "interested" and "interesting". ;o)
The last time I got a jury summons was my first time to get a summons-- the first time I'd ever been notified that I might potentially be selected to sit on a jury. (When was that, exactly? I probably ought to try to figure it out in case they ask. Seems like they did ask something about previous jury experience, last time. . .) So, seeing as it was my first time seeing The Law up close and personal, I was interested, nervous, and kind of excited, even though I knew it was my civic duty to be completely bored and annoyed by the prospect of sitting on a jury. Everyone is (or so you'd think, based on what you usually hear and see people saying).
I happened to see a (2nd? 3rd?) cousin on my first day there, and she seemed bored and nonchalant. Unfortunately (?) I don't find it so easy to be bored and nonchalant. ("A bundle of nerves" might be closer to it, actually. This makes certain aspects of life more difficult, no doubt, and I'll never be really "cool", but at least it's probably also more dramatic and interesting this way.) In any case, being interested/excited made the first part of the experience. . . well, interesting and exciting. As time passed, some of that wore off. By the time it was over, I was ready for it to be over.
This time around, I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I'd rather not have to go, but since I don't really have a choice, I'm trying to feel interested in it. It is interesting, when you're actually sitting on a jury and not just sitting or standing around waiting to be selected. I honestly feel a little sorry for people who don't feel even the least bit interested in the prospect of a brief period of jury duty. It must take a lot to keep them occupied and interested* in life in general. . .
*Note to self: Practice using synonymns for "interested" and "interesting". ;o)
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Well, that's more than enough blogging for one day! ;o)
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Happening Lately
What's been happening lately, in (informal, not at all "parallel"-- sorry Mrs. Boswell) list form:
- Quite a bit of rain, lightning, and thunder-- not constantly, but frequently enough.
- Such intense humidity that it's not very pleasant to be outside, despite temperatures lowered by the rain. (There. That's weather out of the way. I think...)
- Donald joined Facebook and discovered some type of Tetris game there, after which fact, Facebook = Tetris, for him.
- I've mostly abandoned Facebook. I'm still trying to decide how I feel about it. I like being able to keep up with people who don't (to my knowledge) blog, but there are other aspects of it I don't like at all.
- Watched Coraline and thought it was visually striking (in spots, at least) and pretty weird overall.
- Watched Being John Malkovich and thought it was really weird.
- I started watching Wives and Daughters again. (Always a good antidote for weird.) I think I like it even better on this viewing than before, maybe because of its stark contrast to the Malkovich atrocity. (Apologies to those who love it. There are funny, creative bits, but it just goes off the deep end. Insanity is not creative genius. It's merely insanity. Plus I didn't like any of the characters well enough to care about them. That's never a good sign, in my opinion.)
- Watched Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince at the theater (a weekend or two ago). The special effects were pretty special. I've forgotten most of the book, though, so I can't say how good it was as an adaptation. (It sounds like I've been doing a lot of movie-watching! More than usual, probably, since there's not much new on TV this time of year.)
- Gave Molly the first half of a haircut. She was fairly well-behaved for a while, but progress slowed drastically when we started trying to cut the places she's sensitive about (that is, practically everywhere but the back and sides-- but most especially her legs, feet, and "underneath"). After a while, we decided she'd had enough for one day. Round two awaits... Still, we've removed a lot of hair. She must be more comfortable this way-- and it's funny how much smaller she looks without all that extra padding!
- I noticed Donald's driver's license was about to expire, and he went to have it renewed. (Mine's good for another year. I need to write myself a note on the calendar, since they don't send reminders...)
- Someone spoke of "co-boys". I was mystified for a moment, then realized that "co-boy" = "cowboy". So if you ever hear a Swede say something about "co-boys" or "co-girls" at the "ro-day-oh"-- now you'll know what s/he means. Oh! And every Swede knows that "co-boys" love Mexican food, so if you ever have to feed them, I suggest "tack-ohs"-- not tacos, mind, but tack-ohs. Definitely not pasta, though. Co-boys loathe "past-ah". (Sorry, you-know-who. I only do it because you make so few mistakes these days, and I want to remember them for the time when you no longer make any.)
- Oops. I accidentally published this entry prematurely, and I don't see a way to undo it, short of deleting the whole thing... Well, that's ok. I'll just wrap it up quickly...
- Donald's been putting up beadboard wainscoting in the breakfast room. He's making fast progress. Fast by our standards, at least. I've posted a couple of photos (at Flickr) from the first bit he put up, but I need to take more. Maybe later today...
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Kingsnake
Yesterday, nearing noon, I heard Molly barking at something outside. Not long before, I'd gone to investigate her barking and found nothing to occasion much interest, so this time I went with a grumble. "What are you barking about now?"
This time, it was a snake, cornered in about the same spot as (I think) she'd once cornered a moccasin. (That happened while we were visiting Sweden. Granny L. and our neighbor down the road came to the rescue, but from what I've heard, it wasn't easy. Molly is a stubborn dog and didn't want to move out of the way enough for our neighbor to get a clear shot at the snake.)
I saw instantly that it wasn't the poisonous variety. I wasn't sure what it was, though, and in any case, I didn't want her to be bitten. Even a nonvenomous snake bite can become infected. After running out and calling to her, fruitlessly, I thought about Trixie. So far, she had stayed on the other side of the house (despite Molly's frantic and outraged barking), but I realized that if I kept calling Molly, she might come check things out and get involved, too. Just what I needed-- two dogs refusing to listen to me!
So-- I ran and got Trixie-- put her inside-- and ran back out to Molly. More calling with similar results. She just tuned me out. The snake was rattling its tail (imitating a rattlesnake) and "striking" at her, which only seemed to further infuriate her. When the snake tried to turn and flee through a narrow opening, crazy Molly grabbed it and pulled it back!
I was making myself hoarse with calling her, but it was as though she couldn't even hear me. I had a thought-- ran back inside to fetch two of her most-coveted squeaky toys-- ran back outside-- and let the squeakies do my talking. To my surprise and immense relief, it worked! Molly finally looked in my direction and followed one of the toys as I tossed it out into the yard. I squeaked the other in my most tempting manner ;o) and eventually led her into the house with it.
Whew!
I then went back out with the video camera and was able to identify the snake as a kingsnake. Fortunately, it seems that Molly was not bitten, and the last I saw of the snake, it appeared to be alright, too. I'm glad, because I'd hate to have killed a kingsnake. Not only are they themselves nonvenomous, but they also constrict and eat, among other things, other snakes-- including pit vipers like cottonmouths, rattlesnakes, and copperheads. They have an amazing immunity that renders bites from venomous snakes relatively harmless.
Sorry for the shaky camerawork! I didn't have time to set up the tripod, and I had to zoom in pretty far. We all know how well *that* works.
(Hm. Looks like I need to clean the area around our front door!)
This time, it was a snake, cornered in about the same spot as (I think) she'd once cornered a moccasin. (That happened while we were visiting Sweden. Granny L. and our neighbor down the road came to the rescue, but from what I've heard, it wasn't easy. Molly is a stubborn dog and didn't want to move out of the way enough for our neighbor to get a clear shot at the snake.)
I saw instantly that it wasn't the poisonous variety. I wasn't sure what it was, though, and in any case, I didn't want her to be bitten. Even a nonvenomous snake bite can become infected. After running out and calling to her, fruitlessly, I thought about Trixie. So far, she had stayed on the other side of the house (despite Molly's frantic and outraged barking), but I realized that if I kept calling Molly, she might come check things out and get involved, too. Just what I needed-- two dogs refusing to listen to me!
So-- I ran and got Trixie-- put her inside-- and ran back out to Molly. More calling with similar results. She just tuned me out. The snake was rattling its tail (imitating a rattlesnake) and "striking" at her, which only seemed to further infuriate her. When the snake tried to turn and flee through a narrow opening, crazy Molly grabbed it and pulled it back!
I was making myself hoarse with calling her, but it was as though she couldn't even hear me. I had a thought-- ran back inside to fetch two of her most-coveted squeaky toys-- ran back outside-- and let the squeakies do my talking. To my surprise and immense relief, it worked! Molly finally looked in my direction and followed one of the toys as I tossed it out into the yard. I squeaked the other in my most tempting manner ;o) and eventually led her into the house with it.
Whew!
I then went back out with the video camera and was able to identify the snake as a kingsnake. Fortunately, it seems that Molly was not bitten, and the last I saw of the snake, it appeared to be alright, too. I'm glad, because I'd hate to have killed a kingsnake. Not only are they themselves nonvenomous, but they also constrict and eat, among other things, other snakes-- including pit vipers like cottonmouths, rattlesnakes, and copperheads. They have an amazing immunity that renders bites from venomous snakes relatively harmless.
Eastern Kingsnake from Michael Johansson on Vimeo.
Sorry for the shaky camerawork! I didn't have time to set up the tripod, and I had to zoom in pretty far. We all know how well *that* works.
(Hm. Looks like I need to clean the area around our front door!)
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
*Another* Doggone Video.
Clearly I'm not worried about running off my poor handful of readers. ;o)
Barking Across Time and Space from Michael Johansson on Vimeo.
Barking Across Time and Space from Michael Johansson on Vimeo.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Molly gets in on the fun. ;o)
Another video! Both dogs are in this one that Donald shot during the weekend. It's a very short one-- under one minute long.
(I still know just the bare minimum to get the videos online-- lots to learn, yet-- but I guess that's technically all I really have to know, at this point.)
Molly and Trixie from Michael Johansson on Vimeo.
Also: I suppose I shouldn't complain too much about a site that hosts my videos (500MB a week, at least) for free (Thanks, btw!), but I don't like the way that Vimeo fibs about how long it's going to be before my video is converted. Someone doesn't understand how time works. . . Of course, I haven't tried any of the other video hosting sites out there. They may be just as bad (or worse) about that. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now. :o)
(I still know just the bare minimum to get the videos online-- lots to learn, yet-- but I guess that's technically all I really have to know, at this point.)
Molly and Trixie from Michael Johansson on Vimeo.
Also: I suppose I shouldn't complain too much about a site that hosts my videos (500MB a week, at least) for free (Thanks, btw!), but I don't like the way that Vimeo fibs about how long it's going to be before my video is converted. Someone doesn't understand how time works. . . Of course, I haven't tried any of the other video hosting sites out there. They may be just as bad (or worse) about that. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now. :o)
Monday, December 1, 2008
Why the Christmas Tree Still Isn't Up
Yesterday, we started out thinking we'd put up our Christmas tree, but (it seemed to me that) one thing hinged upon another so much that we needed to get a few other things done first. So, though our tree is still languishing in its box (yes, it's artificial), the dining room is back to rights, now. Sure, it still needs a little tweaking from a decorator's point of view (table cloth, etc.) and a little sanding and touch-up paint where Trixie chewed things she wasn't supposed to chew-- but the cyborg/sideboard is out of the living room, and our foyer feels huge after being cramped for months with table and chairs.
We also reorganized the laundry/utility room so that it's roomy enough for Molly to sleep in there at night (instead of the dining room). The plan is for her to become a mostly-outside dog who comes in to sleep at night (maybe eventually only on cold nights) and possibly on miserably rainy days. We'll see. . . Part of me just isn't up to the challenge of house-training two dogs simultaneously, but I still feel guilty for thinking about training Trixie for more indoor living than Molly-- especially when, for the moment, Molly's actually more reliable than Trixie. . . I don't know what we'll end up doing.
As Donald pointed out yesterday, I'm looking at this from a human perspective-- indoors = good and outdoors = bad. So long as the weather's decent, I imaging most dogs would rather be outside than cooped up in the house. The problem is that when they're outside all day and are we are inside most of the day, they don't get enough time with us. (And that, I think, contributes to my awful nightmares of finding neglected, malnourished or dead infants that I was supposed to be caring for.) Of course, one solution for that problem would be for me to spend more time outside. Goodness knows the yard needs some attention! I could also be better about scheduling time for just playing with the dogs-- running around with them, playing fetch, taking them on walks down the easement.
If only I were as good at executing plans as I am at making them!
So, that's why the tree isn't up, yet. We were sidetracked. (Or I got us sidetracked.) Maybe this evening will be the Right Time.
We also reorganized the laundry/utility room so that it's roomy enough for Molly to sleep in there at night (instead of the dining room). The plan is for her to become a mostly-outside dog who comes in to sleep at night (maybe eventually only on cold nights) and possibly on miserably rainy days. We'll see. . . Part of me just isn't up to the challenge of house-training two dogs simultaneously, but I still feel guilty for thinking about training Trixie for more indoor living than Molly-- especially when, for the moment, Molly's actually more reliable than Trixie. . . I don't know what we'll end up doing.
As Donald pointed out yesterday, I'm looking at this from a human perspective-- indoors = good and outdoors = bad. So long as the weather's decent, I imaging most dogs would rather be outside than cooped up in the house. The problem is that when they're outside all day and are we are inside most of the day, they don't get enough time with us. (And that, I think, contributes to my awful nightmares of finding neglected, malnourished or dead infants that I was supposed to be caring for.) Of course, one solution for that problem would be for me to spend more time outside. Goodness knows the yard needs some attention! I could also be better about scheduling time for just playing with the dogs-- running around with them, playing fetch, taking them on walks down the easement.
If only I were as good at executing plans as I am at making them!
So, that's why the tree isn't up, yet. We were sidetracked. (Or I got us sidetracked.) Maybe this evening will be the Right Time.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Bits & Pieces
Just like the title says. :o)
Some of the bits may be tastier than others. Skip at will! ;o)
When I was a kid, we had a book about a white dog with black spots (Harry) who hated baths and got so dirty that he ended up looking like a black dog with white spots:
If we let Trixie dig in the red soil as much as she'd like to, we'd soon end up with an all-red dog. (Red until her hair shed the soil, which happens surprisingly quickly with these self-cleaning Eskies.)
Here she is after a glorious hour or two of digging:
Donald recently cleared out the dog pen so that we could leave Trixie out on her own, sometimes. Technically speaking, we could leave her out on her own in the whole yard, but the pen is a more controlled environment. No overgrown areas. Less potential for snakes. Not as many things she can get and eat without our knowing about it.
Today, she was in the pen, and we'd let Molly out for a while so she could roam the whole yard without a puppy shadowing her every move. We'd done this before with nothing worse than a few dissatisfied barks from Trixie. But this time, when I went to bring them back inside, I found that Trixie had gotten her head stuck in the gap between the gate and the gate post. Molly was right there in her face, making things worse by barking.
Trixie must have found a way to get her head out (in an effort to get to Molly, no doubt), but then couldn't get it back in again. Fortunately, it wasn't hard to free her, once I opened the gate, but then Molly began acting crazy and scared Trixie into her submissive "belly-up" pose.
Eventually, everything was sorted out. Trixie was sweet (not nibbling) for a while, like she usually is after she's been (severely) scolded, scared, or just woken-up-- but (also like usual) she soon recovered and was back to her jaunty self.
For just a minute, though-- when I saw Molly barking frantically and Trixie just lying there at the gate, not responding when I called her name-- I felt sick with worry that something awful had happened. That puppy's going to have to be a little more careful with her well-being, for both our sakes!
Minnesotans, you aren't really going to elect Al Franken into a serious political office, are you? (What is it about Minnesota and kooky political figures?) I can't believe it's so close that there has to be a recount. The whole thing seems like a really bad joke. You know, the kind you see on Saturday Night Live.
Incidentally, I honestly don't understand how that show has survived so long. Maybe it was funny once upon a time. Maybe it can be funny, now, on very rare occasions, but every time we've watched it in the past however-many years, we've been sorely disappointed. Is it just us? Do you have to be drunk to appreciate their way of taking a mediocre joke and repeating it over and over again until it's actually painful (for the sober and mentally competent) to watch? Yeah, that must be it. It's certainly not that we don't have a sense of humor. If you like silly late-night stuff, try MadTV for a change, sometime. It can be stupid, too, but I think it's generally better than SNL.
But I digress. Back to the subject at hand.
Al Franken? Seriously? (shudder)
I try not to make (too many) comments on people's physical appearances, because sometimes we just can't help the way we look-- and I'm not under the illusion that I'm everyone's ideal of beauty, myself. That said, the man gives me a major case of the gross-outs. I think it's his mouth. . . and his weird "Jokeresque" eyebrows. (shudder again) If so much else about the man weren't also repugnant, maybe I wouldn't dislike the very look of him, but as it is-- yuck. Also, if he weren't such a (fill in the blank), I wouldn't feel comfortable insulting him publicly, even if I still privately thought him hideous. (shrug)
The pa-tay-o (as I like to call it) still looks kind of like this, from a distance:
But one of these days it's gonna be great. ;o)
Some of the bits may be tastier than others. Skip at will! ;o)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
When I was a kid, we had a book about a white dog with black spots (Harry) who hated baths and got so dirty that he ended up looking like a black dog with white spots:
If we let Trixie dig in the red soil as much as she'd like to, we'd soon end up with an all-red dog. (Red until her hair shed the soil, which happens surprisingly quickly with these self-cleaning Eskies.)
Here she is after a glorious hour or two of digging:
This is what she's s'posed to look like, in case you've forgotten. ;o)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Donald recently cleared out the dog pen so that we could leave Trixie out on her own, sometimes. Technically speaking, we could leave her out on her own in the whole yard, but the pen is a more controlled environment. No overgrown areas. Less potential for snakes. Not as many things she can get and eat without our knowing about it.
Today, she was in the pen, and we'd let Molly out for a while so she could roam the whole yard without a puppy shadowing her every move. We'd done this before with nothing worse than a few dissatisfied barks from Trixie. But this time, when I went to bring them back inside, I found that Trixie had gotten her head stuck in the gap between the gate and the gate post. Molly was right there in her face, making things worse by barking.
Trixie must have found a way to get her head out (in an effort to get to Molly, no doubt), but then couldn't get it back in again. Fortunately, it wasn't hard to free her, once I opened the gate, but then Molly began acting crazy and scared Trixie into her submissive "belly-up" pose.
Eventually, everything was sorted out. Trixie was sweet (not nibbling) for a while, like she usually is after she's been (severely) scolded, scared, or just woken-up-- but (also like usual) she soon recovered and was back to her jaunty self.
For just a minute, though-- when I saw Molly barking frantically and Trixie just lying there at the gate, not responding when I called her name-- I felt sick with worry that something awful had happened. That puppy's going to have to be a little more careful with her well-being, for both our sakes!
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Minnesotans, you aren't really going to elect Al Franken into a serious political office, are you? (What is it about Minnesota and kooky political figures?) I can't believe it's so close that there has to be a recount. The whole thing seems like a really bad joke. You know, the kind you see on Saturday Night Live.
Incidentally, I honestly don't understand how that show has survived so long. Maybe it was funny once upon a time. Maybe it can be funny, now, on very rare occasions, but every time we've watched it in the past however-many years, we've been sorely disappointed. Is it just us? Do you have to be drunk to appreciate their way of taking a mediocre joke and repeating it over and over again until it's actually painful (for the sober and mentally competent) to watch? Yeah, that must be it. It's certainly not that we don't have a sense of humor. If you like silly late-night stuff, try MadTV for a change, sometime. It can be stupid, too, but I think it's generally better than SNL.
But I digress. Back to the subject at hand.
Al Franken? Seriously? (shudder)
I try not to make (too many) comments on people's physical appearances, because sometimes we just can't help the way we look-- and I'm not under the illusion that I'm everyone's ideal of beauty, myself. That said, the man gives me a major case of the gross-outs. I think it's his mouth. . . and his weird "Jokeresque" eyebrows. (shudder again) If so much else about the man weren't also repugnant, maybe I wouldn't dislike the very look of him, but as it is-- yuck. Also, if he weren't such a (fill in the blank), I wouldn't feel comfortable insulting him publicly, even if I still privately thought him hideous. (shrug)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The pa-tay-o (as I like to call it) still looks kind of like this, from a distance:
But one of these days it's gonna be great. ;o)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Monday, September 8, 2008
News of the Trixibou
Note: This is yet another puppy-only entry. Feel free to skip if you aren't interested in the minutiae of the doggy element of my life. ;o)
Poor Old Cyborg!--
Weeks ago, Trixie did some light chewing on a couple corners of the dining room cyborg, but late last week she moved on to gnawing on various knobs. The time had come to evacuate the cyborg to the main room, where it will be safe from chewing teeth. Of course, it looks a bit odd to have a cyborg standing just a few steps from the TV and sofa, but it can't be helped.
P.S. We call the dining room sideboard a cyborg because, well, we just do. (g) I think it started when Donald misheard me.
Shopping Spree, Puppy Style--
After watching a "You and Your New Puppy"-type orientation DVD, we decided to give the whole crate training approach a try, so we went shopping for a few puppy supplies:
So far, she seems to like the crate pretty well. She'll go in there and stay for a while, even with the door open, and today she was in with the door shut for ten or fifteen minutes without crying or trying to get out. (A freshly filled Kong was enough to keep her interested for a while.)
(Note: In these photos, you'll see that I haven't yet portioned off part of the crate to make it the right size for a puppy. I'll be doing that today.)
One thing I've noticed is that she sometimes chews on the wire "bars" of the crate. I'm not sure what to do about that. . . I try telling her not to do it, but she usually ignores me or stops for only a moment. Distracting her with toys and treats is only a temporary deterrent. Maybe she'll just get tired of it and eventually stop on her own. Seems like she'd rather chew on her toys than the crate! As long as the doesn't hurt herself or ruin the crate, I guess it's not doing any harm.
Puppy Plans--
Short Term:
I want to get Trixie on the road to being truly house trained. The crate should help with that. It's just a matter of time, practice, and patience. Also, I want to teach her to stop biting, nipping, and chewing inappropriately. (That's a biggie. It's hard to enjoy your time with a puppy when you're constantly having to scold her. I don't want to be the bad guy all of the time!)
Long Term:
I'd really like to eventually have both dogs trained so well that they can be all-house dogs, if we so choose. I can't tell you how sick I am of cardboard barriers around the house-- and yet I don't want to put up baby/puppy gates everywhere, either-- certainly not as a permanent solution!
Right now, I just don't trust Molly enough to let her run freely through the house. She usually behaves well in the confines of the kitchen (and occasionally the breakfast room), but when she and Daisy "escaped" the kitchen in the past, they managed to do some bad things before they were discovered. Also, since she knows she's not usually supposed to be in the rest of the house, she's more likely to submissively urinate when she's out of the kitchen area. (TMI? ;o) Sorry.) Add to that the fact that she's been somewhat less manageable since we brought home Trixie. It's only to be expected, I guess. She's more stubborn about not following commands to go outside, and she's just plain jealous. She's jealous mainly of the toys that Trixie has but that Molly is too big to play with, but probably also of the attention that Trixie gets. (On the positive side, she's getting along better with Trixie, now. They're still not fast friends [despite Trixie's best efforts], but I guess I can't blame Molly for being annoyed when Trixie touches Molly's feet, for example. She doesn't like for anyone to do that. [sigh])
Meanwhile, Trixie's of course too young (and untrained) to be trusted on her own, either. I can only handle so much at one time, and I want to take advantage of Trixie's increased impressionability (as a puppy), so she's first. Once she's better under control, then we'll see if Molly can handle more freedom, too. . .
Poor Old Cyborg!--
Weeks ago, Trixie did some light chewing on a couple corners of the dining room cyborg, but late last week she moved on to gnawing on various knobs. The time had come to evacuate the cyborg to the main room, where it will be safe from chewing teeth. Of course, it looks a bit odd to have a cyborg standing just a few steps from the TV and sofa, but it can't be helped.
P.S. We call the dining room sideboard a cyborg because, well, we just do. (g) I think it started when Donald misheard me.
Shopping Spree, Puppy Style--
After watching a "You and Your New Puppy"-type orientation DVD, we decided to give the whole crate training approach a try, so we went shopping for a few puppy supplies:
- Soft treats in small pieces, so that we can easily reward her for good behaviors. She likes her Milk Bones, but they're just not quite as tempting-- or as easy to dole out a bit at a time.
- A crate. We got one large enough (we hope) to accommodate a full-grown Trixie, and in the meantime, we can block off part of it to make it small enough for Puppy Trixie.
- A Kong toy. We hope this will help her pass the time she spends in her crate-- and maybe distract her from non-chewables scattered throughout the house, when she's not in the crate. (Cyborgs, for instance. And window sills.)
So far, she seems to like the crate pretty well. She'll go in there and stay for a while, even with the door open, and today she was in with the door shut for ten or fifteen minutes without crying or trying to get out. (A freshly filled Kong was enough to keep her interested for a while.)
(Note: In these photos, you'll see that I haven't yet portioned off part of the crate to make it the right size for a puppy. I'll be doing that today.)
One thing I've noticed is that she sometimes chews on the wire "bars" of the crate. I'm not sure what to do about that. . . I try telling her not to do it, but she usually ignores me or stops for only a moment. Distracting her with toys and treats is only a temporary deterrent. Maybe she'll just get tired of it and eventually stop on her own. Seems like she'd rather chew on her toys than the crate! As long as the doesn't hurt herself or ruin the crate, I guess it's not doing any harm.
Puppy Plans--
Short Term:
I want to get Trixie on the road to being truly house trained. The crate should help with that. It's just a matter of time, practice, and patience. Also, I want to teach her to stop biting, nipping, and chewing inappropriately. (That's a biggie. It's hard to enjoy your time with a puppy when you're constantly having to scold her. I don't want to be the bad guy all of the time!)
Long Term:
I'd really like to eventually have both dogs trained so well that they can be all-house dogs, if we so choose. I can't tell you how sick I am of cardboard barriers around the house-- and yet I don't want to put up baby/puppy gates everywhere, either-- certainly not as a permanent solution!
Right now, I just don't trust Molly enough to let her run freely through the house. She usually behaves well in the confines of the kitchen (and occasionally the breakfast room), but when she and Daisy "escaped" the kitchen in the past, they managed to do some bad things before they were discovered. Also, since she knows she's not usually supposed to be in the rest of the house, she's more likely to submissively urinate when she's out of the kitchen area. (TMI? ;o) Sorry.) Add to that the fact that she's been somewhat less manageable since we brought home Trixie. It's only to be expected, I guess. She's more stubborn about not following commands to go outside, and she's just plain jealous. She's jealous mainly of the toys that Trixie has but that Molly is too big to play with, but probably also of the attention that Trixie gets. (On the positive side, she's getting along better with Trixie, now. They're still not fast friends [despite Trixie's best efforts], but I guess I can't blame Molly for being annoyed when Trixie touches Molly's feet, for example. She doesn't like for anyone to do that. [sigh])
Meanwhile, Trixie's of course too young (and untrained) to be trusted on her own, either. I can only handle so much at one time, and I want to take advantage of Trixie's increased impressionability (as a puppy), so she's first. Once she's better under control, then we'll see if Molly can handle more freedom, too. . .
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Car Tags, Bratty Puppy, and Gustav
I decided to try renewing our car tags in my hometown, this time around. This was the first time they've had that option available. There were quite a few cars in the parking lot, but everyone else must've been in different parts of the complex. Maybe I was just exceptionally lucky, but I walked in (around 9:30 this morning) and didn't even have a chance to think about taking a number and sitting down in the waiting area. Instead, I was greeted by so many "open" windows that I wasn't sure which one to go to! I know where I'll be going, from now on. (g)
(On the other hand. . . What a waste of our taxes to keep that many people there-- six? seven? or was it eight?-- if it's usually that slow!)
(On the other hand. . . What a waste of our taxes to keep that many people there-- six? seven? or was it eight?-- if it's usually that slow!)
** ** ** ** **
Trixie has lately seemed an odd mixture of sweet little puppy and mean little brat. She knows how to make you feel welcome-- especially when she hasn't seen you for a while-- with a bouncy run, a wagging tail, and every other sign of joyful eagerness. As for the bratty part, it's mostly biting (even when you're trying to clean up after her-- something I find particularly insulting) and then yapping and posturing ("Oh yeah? We'll just see about that! You can't tell me what to do!"-- only in dog language (g)) when she's told to stop.
I guess they're all this way, when they're little. At least I hope so. . . I really, really hope she behaves better than this when she's older!
Warning: I'm about to muse (boringly) on dog behavior. Feel free to skip down to the next row of stars. (g)
** ** ** ** **
Trixie has lately seemed an odd mixture of sweet little puppy and mean little brat. She knows how to make you feel welcome-- especially when she hasn't seen you for a while-- with a bouncy run, a wagging tail, and every other sign of joyful eagerness. As for the bratty part, it's mostly biting (even when you're trying to clean up after her-- something I find particularly insulting) and then yapping and posturing ("Oh yeah? We'll just see about that! You can't tell me what to do!"-- only in dog language (g)) when she's told to stop.
I guess they're all this way, when they're little. At least I hope so. . . I really, really hope she behaves better than this when she's older!
Warning: I'm about to muse (boringly) on dog behavior. Feel free to skip down to the next row of stars. (g)
Thinking about puppy behavior has made me wonder how much an owner determines his/her dog's (or cat's) behavior. (I guess it's just a twist on the old nature vs. nurture debate. Nothing new.) Do we gravitate toward animals with certain personalities, or do we somehow influence them and mold their behaviors (unintentionally, I mean-- not talking about obedience training here)?
I don't think we chose any of our dogs based on their behavior. We chose Molly because she was the only one in the litter with the color and gender we wanted. And with both Daisy and Trixie, I don't think we could really tell what kind of personality they'd have when we chose them. I know that some experts advise that you look for certain behaviors or tendencies when choosing a pet, but I'm skeptical. It seems to be mostly the luck of the draw, even if you're making a careful choice.
. . . Was the laid back Skipper ever a biter, like Trixie? I don't remember Daisy ever biting this much, but maybe I've just forgotten. Am I somehow influencing Trixie to bite? Maybe by playing relatively rough games with her, like keep-away and tug-of-war? Molly definitely was a biter as a puppy. She grew out of it. However, I still don't trust Molly as much as I trusted Daisy to not ever bite me "by accident" (or instinctive response to something unpleasant, like accidentally pulling hair during grooming). . . How much of a dog's behavior boils down to breed-- how much to breeding-- and how much to individual personality?
I don't think we chose any of our dogs based on their behavior. We chose Molly because she was the only one in the litter with the color and gender we wanted. And with both Daisy and Trixie, I don't think we could really tell what kind of personality they'd have when we chose them. I know that some experts advise that you look for certain behaviors or tendencies when choosing a pet, but I'm skeptical. It seems to be mostly the luck of the draw, even if you're making a careful choice.
. . . Was the laid back Skipper ever a biter, like Trixie? I don't remember Daisy ever biting this much, but maybe I've just forgotten. Am I somehow influencing Trixie to bite? Maybe by playing relatively rough games with her, like keep-away and tug-of-war? Molly definitely was a biter as a puppy. She grew out of it. However, I still don't trust Molly as much as I trusted Daisy to not ever bite me "by accident" (or instinctive response to something unpleasant, like accidentally pulling hair during grooming). . . How much of a dog's behavior boils down to breed-- how much to breeding-- and how much to individual personality?
** ** ** ** **
The grocery store seemed a bit busier than usual. Maybe it was just my imagination. People weren't quite pulling everything off the shelves or fighting over the last pack of batteries. (g)* But-- some sizes of batteries had been sold out, and I'm pretty sure it had something to do with Tropical Storm Gustav.
It's still too early to tell where it's likely to go, but I can't help but notice that the latest GFDL model takes it right over us. (And I do mean right over us.)
It's still too early to tell where it's likely to go, but I can't help but notice that the latest GFDL model takes it right over us. (And I do mean right over us.)
Of course, the other models steer it further west, and the official forecast is also centered further from us. Still, something to keep an eye on for the next day or two. . .
*(I haven't ever seen anyone actually fighting over something in a shop, but I have been to the store before a storm only to find that certain aisles-- canned goods, for instance-- are almost bare. Can't remember if that was before Ivan or one of the other storms. . .)
ETA: Since I wrote the above, they've posted an updated set of models, and the GFDL is tending more westwardly, too. I don't wish a storm on anyone else, but I still hope it doesn't come here. That little edge in the atmosphere at the store brought back some unpleasant memories of sitting on the bathroom floor, half expecting the front door to blow in or the roof to lift off the house. I'm not eager to repeat that experience.
*(I haven't ever seen anyone actually fighting over something in a shop, but I have been to the store before a storm only to find that certain aisles-- canned goods, for instance-- are almost bare. Can't remember if that was before Ivan or one of the other storms. . .)
ETA: Since I wrote the above, they've posted an updated set of models, and the GFDL is tending more westwardly, too. I don't wish a storm on anyone else, but I still hope it doesn't come here. That little edge in the atmosphere at the store brought back some unpleasant memories of sitting on the bathroom floor, half expecting the front door to blow in or the roof to lift off the house. I'm not eager to repeat that experience.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Just Stuff
Nothing big to write about-- just tidbits of "stuff". . .
Late last night, when we let Molly back in from her last walk, she brought a very dead little bird with her. I didn't see it until this morning. (Yuck.) Thank goodness she's still a "kitchen dog". At least it's possible to give our kitchen floor a thorough cleaning. As unpleasant as it was to find that anywhere in our house, finding it on our carpet, couch, or bed would've been so much worse!
Donald had today off (yes, lots of days off, lately), so we went over the information we'd accumulated about "lawn tractors" (or whatever they call riding mowers, these days) and various and sundry other things, made a final list, and went back to Daphne to place our order. We were prepared to have to wait a bit to have it delivered, but they told us they should have it to us sometime tomorrow. (Maybe not until evening, but that's still tomorrow. (g))
Meanwhile, much of the lawn is embarrassingly unkempt. It really needs mowing! (Oh yeah, I guess I never mentioned that Donald tinkered around with the walk-behind mower some more, and we gave it some more tries, but so far we haven't been able to get it started.)
Yesterday, I got a bunch of photos that I ordered online for cheap with a coupon code. (Thanks for the info, Mom!) Now I need to clear off a table, sit down, and do some scrapbooking! I haven't done that in a long while, so that should be fun. :o)
Donald and I stopped for a treat on our way home from shopping, today. I had a chocolate malted milk shake-- the first in years and years. Malted milkshakes sure are tasty!
Sadly, I ought to cut down on the treats. While getting ready to leave, I caught a displeasing angle of myself in the mirror. Not the first time that's happened (g), but still. . . Must find some form of exercise that I don't hate so much that I quit after a few days. . .
One of my dreams last night involved a smell (an old powdery smell), which made me realize that I don't often dream of scents-- or at least I don't often remember scents from dreams.
I was curious about how common it is to "smell" things in dreams, so I looked around a little online. It's funny how people seem to take special pride in their ability to remember dreams and in the "quality" of their dreams.
"I always dream in very vivid color."
"Oh yeah? Well, when I dream, it's so real that I can't tell whether I'm dreaming or not."
"I smelled something in my dream last night."
"Yeah, I do that all the time. Actually, I have everything in my dreams-- smell, sound, touch, sight, taste. . . I read somewhere that the more senses you have in your dreams, the higher your level of intelligence. (You know, just fyi.)"
(Those aren't direct quotes, but they're close enough. (g))
== == == == ==
Late last night, when we let Molly back in from her last walk, she brought a very dead little bird with her. I didn't see it until this morning. (Yuck.) Thank goodness she's still a "kitchen dog". At least it's possible to give our kitchen floor a thorough cleaning. As unpleasant as it was to find that anywhere in our house, finding it on our carpet, couch, or bed would've been so much worse!
== == == == ==
Donald had today off (yes, lots of days off, lately), so we went over the information we'd accumulated about "lawn tractors" (or whatever they call riding mowers, these days) and various and sundry other things, made a final list, and went back to Daphne to place our order. We were prepared to have to wait a bit to have it delivered, but they told us they should have it to us sometime tomorrow. (Maybe not until evening, but that's still tomorrow. (g))
Meanwhile, much of the lawn is embarrassingly unkempt. It really needs mowing! (Oh yeah, I guess I never mentioned that Donald tinkered around with the walk-behind mower some more, and we gave it some more tries, but so far we haven't been able to get it started.)
== == == == ==
Yesterday, I got a bunch of photos that I ordered online for cheap with a coupon code. (Thanks for the info, Mom!) Now I need to clear off a table, sit down, and do some scrapbooking! I haven't done that in a long while, so that should be fun. :o)
== == == == ==
Donald and I stopped for a treat on our way home from shopping, today. I had a chocolate malted milk shake-- the first in years and years. Malted milkshakes sure are tasty!
Sadly, I ought to cut down on the treats. While getting ready to leave, I caught a displeasing angle of myself in the mirror. Not the first time that's happened (g), but still. . . Must find some form of exercise that I don't hate so much that I quit after a few days. . .
== == == == ==
One of my dreams last night involved a smell (an old powdery smell), which made me realize that I don't often dream of scents-- or at least I don't often remember scents from dreams.
I was curious about how common it is to "smell" things in dreams, so I looked around a little online. It's funny how people seem to take special pride in their ability to remember dreams and in the "quality" of their dreams.
"I always dream in very vivid color."
"Oh yeah? Well, when I dream, it's so real that I can't tell whether I'm dreaming or not."
"I smelled something in my dream last night."
"Yeah, I do that all the time. Actually, I have everything in my dreams-- smell, sound, touch, sight, taste. . . I read somewhere that the more senses you have in your dreams, the higher your level of intelligence. (You know, just fyi.)"
(Those aren't direct quotes, but they're close enough. (g))
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Plodding Along
ETA: Ha! I just lost the first half of my post!! Exceedingly annoying. Blogger, I will have vengeance! ;o) Now I have to re-write some of it. . .
Here are a few things that have been happening around here lately:
1. Monday night, we noticed that our A/C wasn't cooling properly. Instead of going down, the temperature was going up-- and no, we hadn't accidentally set it to "heat". ;o) We shut it off, opened some windows, and went to bed thinking we'd have to call a repair man the next day.
The next morning, after clearing some "overnight giant" weeds from the slope (where the A/C is located), we decided to give it one last try. It seemed to be working, and it hasn't given us any problems since then! I don't know how long it'll last, but I'll happily postpone calling a repair man as long as possible. ;o)
2. At about the same time, our walk-behind mower started giving us trouble.
First off, it wasn't going as fast as it should. Donald decided it was because some cord/line had gone a bit limp, and without the proper tension the motor didn't "know" it was supposed to be going full speed. (I think. . . )
After he spent some time looking at it (trying to see if he could tighten the cord), it didn't want to start at all. He thought it might be flooded or something from having been on its side, so he gave it a rest, but the next time we tried to get it started, the pull-start cord came loose entirely! Donald was able to reattach it, but I don't think she'll ever be the same again. ;o) Or he. . . It's a Toro, after all.
Anyway, we may be able to get it going again, but we think this might be a sign that it's time to go ahead and get a new lawn mower. We've been intending to buy a riding mower sooner or later, anyway. With a lawn as big as ours, it would make the chore of keeping it "groomed" so much easier.
So-- now begins the task of comparison shopping! Yee-haw! ;o)
3. Molly's back took a turn for the worse a few days ago, when she lost a small patch of hair around the sore spots. Now it looks like it might be improving. I hesitate to type it, for fear that she'll suddenly go totally bald ;o), but the sort spots don't look as irritated, at the moment. . . For now, I'm just keeping an eye on it and planning to try out some shampoo I'm borrowing from Mom tomorrow. Do you hear that, Molly? You're getting a bath soon! (g)
Here are a few things that have been happening around here lately:
1. Monday night, we noticed that our A/C wasn't cooling properly. Instead of going down, the temperature was going up-- and no, we hadn't accidentally set it to "heat". ;o) We shut it off, opened some windows, and went to bed thinking we'd have to call a repair man the next day.
The next morning, after clearing some "overnight giant" weeds from the slope (where the A/C is located), we decided to give it one last try. It seemed to be working, and it hasn't given us any problems since then! I don't know how long it'll last, but I'll happily postpone calling a repair man as long as possible. ;o)
2. At about the same time, our walk-behind mower started giving us trouble.
First off, it wasn't going as fast as it should. Donald decided it was because some cord/line had gone a bit limp, and without the proper tension the motor didn't "know" it was supposed to be going full speed. (I think. . . )
After he spent some time looking at it (trying to see if he could tighten the cord), it didn't want to start at all. He thought it might be flooded or something from having been on its side, so he gave it a rest, but the next time we tried to get it started, the pull-start cord came loose entirely! Donald was able to reattach it, but I don't think she'll ever be the same again. ;o) Or he. . . It's a Toro, after all.
Anyway, we may be able to get it going again, but we think this might be a sign that it's time to go ahead and get a new lawn mower. We've been intending to buy a riding mower sooner or later, anyway. With a lawn as big as ours, it would make the chore of keeping it "groomed" so much easier.
So-- now begins the task of comparison shopping! Yee-haw! ;o)
3. Molly's back took a turn for the worse a few days ago, when she lost a small patch of hair around the sore spots. Now it looks like it might be improving. I hesitate to type it, for fear that she'll suddenly go totally bald ;o), but the sort spots don't look as irritated, at the moment. . . For now, I'm just keeping an eye on it and planning to try out some shampoo I'm borrowing from Mom tomorrow. Do you hear that, Molly? You're getting a bath soon! (g)
Monday, July 7, 2008
Happiness (this evening) is. . .
Happiness (this evening) is. . .
- A Molly-dog jumping two or three feet into the air to pop soap bubbles.
- Red beans and rice simmering on the stove, wafting a pleasantly spicy aroma my direction.
- The soft glow of a summer evening lighting up the house from every window. (No electricity necessary.)
- A/C and ceiling fans keeping the house at a comfortable 81 degrees.
- Freshly-washed dishes dripping dry by the kitchen sink.
- The familiar whistled melody of The Andy Griffith Show on the television.
- Leisurely adding to my grocery list (with visions of yummy Santa Fe Stew dancing through my head).
- Looking forward to supper with a companionable companion.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Chit-Chat
Donald's taking tomorrow off, so this is another "Friday" for us. :o) (He's taking a day here and there, this summer, to use up a reserve of off-time that would otherwise expire soon.)
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Tuesday evening, right before going to bed, I measured a hot dog pendant (sounds weird, I know (g)) so I could send all the information to the person who ordered it. Yesterday, when I woke in the morning, pretty much my first thought was, "I made a mistake when I measured that hot dog!" I checked, and I was right; just as I "knew" when I woke, I'd been off by a quarter of an inch.
I've always heard that when you sleep-- or just leave something for a while and return to it later-- you allow your brain time to work things out. Things like this have happened to me before, of course-- suddenly understanding how to do a math problem, for instance-- or waking up and realizing that I'd used the wrong spelling or even the wrong word in something I'd been writing-- but it's always a strange sensation.
These brains of ours are mysterious things!
I've always heard that when you sleep-- or just leave something for a while and return to it later-- you allow your brain time to work things out. Things like this have happened to me before, of course-- suddenly understanding how to do a math problem, for instance-- or waking up and realizing that I'd used the wrong spelling or even the wrong word in something I'd been writing-- but it's always a strange sensation.
These brains of ours are mysterious things!
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Still need to do something about those ground wasps. . . Maybe over the weekend.
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Molly has some weird little scabby things on her back. I'm not sure what they are. You don't see them so much as feel them when you pet her in that one spot. It's hard to get a good look at them, because she doesn't want to sit still when you start focusing on the area you really need to see. They're also difficult to see because they're kind of "under" her hair-- or her hair's growing through them. Since her hair is all still there, I don't think they're regular scabs. Maybe some type of skin problem-- excessive dandruff or even psoriasis. . .
(sigh) Even researching doggy maladies online depresses and worries me! I know better than to use the Internet to research my own aches, pains, and other physical complaints. Now I know I shouldn't research Molly's issues, either! (g) I'll just keep an eye on it for the time being. She is a cocker spaniel, after all, and I think they tend to have skin problems.
(sigh) Even researching doggy maladies online depresses and worries me! I know better than to use the Internet to research my own aches, pains, and other physical complaints. Now I know I shouldn't research Molly's issues, either! (g) I'll just keep an eye on it for the time being. She is a cocker spaniel, after all, and I think they tend to have skin problems.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Heat, Twitter, Spaniel-Dog & Punctuation
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It is sooo hot and humid, lately. Summer's here, with a vengeance. It'll probably be a few months before I spend any truly enjoyable time outside. ;o) I may exaggerate a bit. . .
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I guess Twitter is another of those places where people try to build up some sort of reputation for themselves. That's the only thing that would explain why random strangers (seemingly with little or nothing in common with me) suddenly decide to "follow" my twitterings-- or why, when I look at their profiles, I see that they're following thousands of other people. (One person is following over a hundred thousand twitterers!)
I don't necessarily mind if they "follow" me; I simply don't understand why they do it. They can't actually be reading all those twitters. I can barely keep up with the few people I'm following! ;o)
I don't necessarily mind if they "follow" me; I simply don't understand why they do it. They can't actually be reading all those twitters. I can barely keep up with the few people I'm following! ;o)
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My lovely psycho spaniel-dog decided this morning to go into the jungle behind the shed-- and stay there for a while. (She does try my patience, sometimes.)
I'd just come home from a quick errand. Even though it wasn't yet 10 a.m., it was already hot and steamy, and I figured Molly would want to come inside with me. I called her and soon heard her barking from behind the shed, but she refused to come.
My first thought was, "Oh great. She's found a snake!" That would be bad news at any time, but for her to find one now would be particularly bad timing, as it would be hard for me to get someone to come help quickly, today. (We really need to get a gun appropriate for shooting snakes. . . If I could even manage to get my crazy dog far enough away from the snake for me to try shooting it!)
Anyway, she soon stopped barking-- which made a snake seem unlikely. (She barks herself hoarse at snakes.) So then my pessimistic brain presented me with images of her lying in a stupor after being bitten-- or (even weirder) being constricted by someone's former pet python. (I think the heat was getting to me at that point.)
Peeking through the dense growth, I finally glimpsed her. She seemed fine, from what I could see, so I decided that she was either being obstinate (she has an admirable single-mindedness that is sometimes mistaken for pure stubbornness) or had become tangled in briars and was unwilling to pull herself loose.
After much fruitless finagling (with a squeaky toy and treats), I decided that I'd have to clear a path to reach her. Fortunately, her dominance proven ;o), she came out on her own before I had to get very deep into the jungle. I didn't see the big moment, as I was focused on cutting a path with a machete (or maybe something not quite that extreme), but she wasn't trailing briars, so I'm inclined to think she may have just been stubborn!
That settles it! The jungle behind the shed must be cleared. It hasn't been "pretty" for quite some time, but I honestly didn't realize it was that bad, as I tend to avoid that part of the yard. Things can spring up so fast, this time of year! And with a dog lacking the sense to stay out of jungles, something has to be done. . .
I'd just come home from a quick errand. Even though it wasn't yet 10 a.m., it was already hot and steamy, and I figured Molly would want to come inside with me. I called her and soon heard her barking from behind the shed, but she refused to come.
My first thought was, "Oh great. She's found a snake!" That would be bad news at any time, but for her to find one now would be particularly bad timing, as it would be hard for me to get someone to come help quickly, today. (We really need to get a gun appropriate for shooting snakes. . . If I could even manage to get my crazy dog far enough away from the snake for me to try shooting it!)
Anyway, she soon stopped barking-- which made a snake seem unlikely. (She barks herself hoarse at snakes.) So then my pessimistic brain presented me with images of her lying in a stupor after being bitten-- or (even weirder) being constricted by someone's former pet python. (I think the heat was getting to me at that point.)
Peeking through the dense growth, I finally glimpsed her. She seemed fine, from what I could see, so I decided that she was either being obstinate (she has an admirable single-mindedness that is sometimes mistaken for pure stubbornness) or had become tangled in briars and was unwilling to pull herself loose.
After much fruitless finagling (with a squeaky toy and treats), I decided that I'd have to clear a path to reach her. Fortunately, her dominance proven ;o), she came out on her own before I had to get very deep into the jungle. I didn't see the big moment, as I was focused on cutting a path with a machete (or maybe something not quite that extreme), but she wasn't trailing briars, so I'm inclined to think she may have just been stubborn!
That settles it! The jungle behind the shed must be cleared. It hasn't been "pretty" for quite some time, but I honestly didn't realize it was that bad, as I tend to avoid that part of the yard. Things can spring up so fast, this time of year! And with a dog lacking the sense to stay out of jungles, something has to be done. . .
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I used to have a serious addiction to dashes (--), but now that seems to be overshadowed by my newer over-dependence on parenthetical statements (like this one).
. . . I mention this merely in passing, as I have no serious intentions of cutting back. Hyphens-- and now parentheses (what an odd word!)-- are some of the cheapest luxuries in my life, so I refuse to skimp. ;o) (Emoticons fall into this category, too, as you may have noticed. Only I do feel a bit ashamed of my addition to the smiley, the wink, and the "(g)". . . I fear I'm too far gone to be helped, though.)
. . . I mention this merely in passing, as I have no serious intentions of cutting back. Hyphens-- and now parentheses (what an odd word!)-- are some of the cheapest luxuries in my life, so I refuse to skimp. ;o) (Emoticons fall into this category, too, as you may have noticed. Only I do feel a bit ashamed of my addition to the smiley, the wink, and the "(g)". . . I fear I'm too far gone to be helped, though.)
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Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Finches, Car Stuff, and a Molly-Dog
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The house finches on our porch grew and grew until they looked to be about the same size as their parents. There scarcely seemed to be enough room for them all in the nest!
Yesterday, I noticed that one of the four had hopped out of the nest and was sitting off to the side on the ledge:
Later in the day, I looked again and saw only three.
By this morning, there was just one lone bird sitting on the nest. I missed the big moment ;o), but Donald saw the last one hop-hop-hopping and finally hopping right out of the nest and flying away. :o)
I might add that they left their nasty nest behind. I guess they expect me to clean up after them!
So-- no birds left in that nest-- but while looking at that last, sad bird, I noticed that there's another nest being built on the opposite end of the porch. I don't know if it's the same bird, but I think it might be. Good grief, they're prolific!!
Ha! I was just looking up the species to see if the same bird could lay eggs again so quickly*, when I found this little tidbit, described on the site as a "cool fact":
(Those with weak stomachs may want to skip this part. (g))
When nestling House Finches defecate, the feces are contained in a membranous sac, as in most birds. The parents eat the fecal sacs of the nestlings for about the first five days. In most songbird species, when the parents stop eating the sacs, they carry the sacs away and dispose of them. But House Finch parents do not remove them, and the sacs accumulate around the rim of the nest.Yes, that's so very "cool". Gross! Well, that explains the mess, I guess. I didn't think all nests were so nasty. . .
*It turns out they can lay up to six times in one breeding season, but usually no more than three of those "clutches" of eggs survive to hatch.
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We had a little car trouble, Monday. Donald found out that one of the engine mounts on the PT Cruiser had broken. It was one of those things that probably needed to be taken care of, so we went ahead and took it to the mechanic. That's never fun, but at least it wasn't a huge repair, and they had it ready for us to pick up this morning.
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Since I had to drive to town anyway, this morning (to take Donald to pick up the PT Cruiser), I decided to drive a little further and get some grocery shopping done.
So, I go to the nearest store. It's not the one I usually go to, and I'm slightly uncomfortable. (I don't know what it is about this store, exactly, but I don't like it as much.) It's early, but there are still quite a few people coming and going. I pull the lever to open the car door-- then pause at the sound of an alarm. It takes me a second or two to realize that it is my car alarm that is sounding. Loudly. (Well, when is a car alarm ever not loud?) I fumble around-- unzip my purse and find the keys-- and finally locate a button that shuts off the noise.
. . .The comparative silence is deafening. . .
How embarrassing!
I decide that I must've accidentally pressed the alarm button against the steering wheel while getting up. I notice that someone who had just parked nearby has pulled through to go to another part of the parking lot. Probably to get away from the crazy lady (i.e. me). ;o) However, there are no security guards coming up to call me "Ma'am" and ask if I need help, so I go to open the door again. (I guess I closed it when I was startled by the alarm.)
Again there is an irritating blaring of the car horn. At least this time I know which button to hit to shut the thing off, but not soon enough to keep everyone in the world (or just the parking lot, maybe) from hearing it. And worse yet, I'm now trapped in my own car. (Sort of.) If I open the door again, I risk setting off the alarm. I am not willing to do that. Not again-- not here. Yet with the price of gas, it is unthinkable to drive around in search of a private spot to get in touch with my inner Hyundai and figure out whether or not the Elantra's possessed by an evil spirit. ;o)
I pull out the owner's manual and eventually figure out that I must have accidentally "armed" the car's alarm system by pressing the lock button (on my key chain) while still in the car. (Or something.) All I have to do is press the unlock button, and I am no longer held hostage by the threat of humiliation. Mystery solved! I get out of the car and walk along just as though I'd never heard of such a thing as a car alarm. (g)
The moral of the story: Any time you break your regular routine, you run the risk of something going wrong. Locking your keys in the car, for instance, or setting off your own car alarm twice in the space of a few minutes. Or maybe that's just true for me. . .
So, I go to the nearest store. It's not the one I usually go to, and I'm slightly uncomfortable. (I don't know what it is about this store, exactly, but I don't like it as much.) It's early, but there are still quite a few people coming and going. I pull the lever to open the car door-- then pause at the sound of an alarm. It takes me a second or two to realize that it is my car alarm that is sounding. Loudly. (Well, when is a car alarm ever not loud?) I fumble around-- unzip my purse and find the keys-- and finally locate a button that shuts off the noise.
. . .The comparative silence is deafening. . .
How embarrassing!
The older I get, the more convinced I am that I might be just a tad bit ditsy. In fact, I think it's becoming worse. This makes me somewhat sad, but I'm coming to terms with it. So what if I'm slowly morphing into Lucy Ricardo? At least I know things will work out by the end of the half-hour. ;o)
I decide that I must've accidentally pressed the alarm button against the steering wheel while getting up. I notice that someone who had just parked nearby has pulled through to go to another part of the parking lot. Probably to get away from the crazy lady (i.e. me). ;o) However, there are no security guards coming up to call me "Ma'am" and ask if I need help, so I go to open the door again. (I guess I closed it when I was startled by the alarm.)
Again there is an irritating blaring of the car horn. At least this time I know which button to hit to shut the thing off, but not soon enough to keep everyone in the world (or just the parking lot, maybe) from hearing it. And worse yet, I'm now trapped in my own car. (Sort of.) If I open the door again, I risk setting off the alarm. I am not willing to do that. Not again-- not here. Yet with the price of gas, it is unthinkable to drive around in search of a private spot to get in touch with my inner Hyundai and figure out whether or not the Elantra's possessed by an evil spirit. ;o)
I pull out the owner's manual and eventually figure out that I must have accidentally "armed" the car's alarm system by pressing the lock button (on my key chain) while still in the car. (Or something.) All I have to do is press the unlock button, and I am no longer held hostage by the threat of humiliation. Mystery solved! I get out of the car and walk along just as though I'd never heard of such a thing as a car alarm. (g)
The moral of the story: Any time you break your regular routine, you run the risk of something going wrong. Locking your keys in the car, for instance, or setting off your own car alarm twice in the space of a few minutes. Or maybe that's just true for me. . .
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I got some of my favorite chicken burritos on the infamous shopping trip (see above), and I decided to have one for lunch when I got home.
They changed the recipe!!
(Shocking, isn't it?)
And they don't even warn you on the wrapper! No mention of "NEW!" or "IMPROVED!" The wrapper looks exactly the same, except that the small-print heating instructions have changed. Now they're very particular about how you heat them-- even insisting that you check the temperature with a thermometer in several places after microwaving it!
I have to admit that the new instructions make me look at the once-beloved food as more biohazard than burrito. Worse yet, the new recipe is slightly "jucky", as we say around here. ("J" and "Y" mix-ups are classic Swedish-to-English bloopers, but I don't remember exactly how this one got started. I suspect it was my invention. . .)
I think I may have eaten my last chicken burrito.
;o)
(Well, I have a few of the "good ones" left, but after they're gone, I doubt I'll buy more.)
They changed the recipe!!
(Shocking, isn't it?)
And they don't even warn you on the wrapper! No mention of "NEW!" or "IMPROVED!" The wrapper looks exactly the same, except that the small-print heating instructions have changed. Now they're very particular about how you heat them-- even insisting that you check the temperature with a thermometer in several places after microwaving it!
I have to admit that the new instructions make me look at the once-beloved food as more biohazard than burrito. Worse yet, the new recipe is slightly "jucky", as we say around here. ("J" and "Y" mix-ups are classic Swedish-to-English bloopers, but I don't remember exactly how this one got started. I suspect it was my invention. . .)
I think I may have eaten my last chicken burrito.
(Well, I have a few of the "good ones" left, but after they're gone, I doubt I'll buy more.)
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Ever since we began clearing out a flower bed to make way for the patio, Molly's been making it one of her favorite places to snooze. The soil there is very sandy, and I guess it's soft. I have a feeling she'd rather sleep on sand than the pavers we're eventually going to put there. Maybe the shade will make up for it. That and a doggie blanket/bed.
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Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Snippets
The baby house finches have been "out" for several days, now. :o)
These photos are very blurry (especially the first one), but they're the best I could get without going to great effort-- and we all know I'm too lazy for that. ;o) Anyway, once I took a closer look at the nest, I realized that it's gotten fairly gross, and I don't know if you'd particularly want to see a very clear, crisp macro of it. (Eww. . .)
These photos are very blurry (especially the first one), but they're the best I could get without going to great effort-- and we all know I'm too lazy for that. ;o) Anyway, once I took a closer look at the nest, I realized that it's gotten fairly gross, and I don't know if you'd particularly want to see a very clear, crisp macro of it. (Eww. . .)
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We gave Molly another round of haircutting, Sunday afternoon. We cleared most of the mats from her stomach and got a lot off her back legs. There's still some work to be done on those hind legs, but most of it's concentrated on the front legs and her chest.
If the crazy girl would just lie still and have a nap for an hour or so, we could have the job done in one session, instead of doing a little at a time.
She's looking a little ratty, right now, but she has to be more comfortable than she was before.
If the crazy girl would just lie still and have a nap for an hour or so, we could have the job done in one session, instead of doing a little at a time.
She's looking a little ratty, right now, but she has to be more comfortable than she was before.
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Cleared a few more plants from the (future) patio area late Sunday afternoon/early evening. I need to transplant a few more while the weather's nice. The biggest thing we have to move is the banana shrub. I'm having a hard time deciding where to put it. . .
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After an uncomfortably warm and muggy Saturday, Sunday night and last night were blessedly cool and breezy. We opened the windows in our room, and I was actually chilly when I woke yesterday morning! This is noteworthy because I probably won't be chilly again until sometime in October. ;o)
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Something happened to one of our tomato plants. It was broken off at the base. Whether Molly ran too roughly over it or something purposely cut it, I'm not sure. We still have plenty, assuming that they'll make it. Donald thinks we need to add something to the soil to balance out the acidity. Maybe that'll help, along with the fertilizer we're adding. They're living, but they don't seem to be growing very much.
Nothing else demands to be reported. Things are going along pretty much the same as usual, around here. We're peaceful, especially in contrast with the cyclone, tornadoes, earthquakes, and fires that have been filling the news, lately. I'm thankful that a broken tomato plant and the annoyance of increasing prices and heat are the worst we have to complain of. . .
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Nothing else demands to be reported. Things are going along pretty much the same as usual, around here. We're peaceful, especially in contrast with the cyclone, tornadoes, earthquakes, and fires that have been filling the news, lately. I'm thankful that a broken tomato plant and the annoyance of increasing prices and heat are the worst we have to complain of. . .
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Various bits of news.
The blackberries are ripening, so now when Molly happens upon a bramble, she's feasting on berries. (g) For some reason, I find it amusing to see her do that. Daisy used to do it, too. I'm not sure why it's funny. . . Maybe I'm just not used to seeing pets "foraging" for food.
Clark Howard says electricity prices will spike this summer-- especially in warmer climates. Great! Just in time for the most miserable time of year, too. I appreciate the fact that he tries to put a positive spin on it (in the article linked above) by suggesting ways we can lower the bill, but I'm finding it difficult to be optimistic. I already obsess about how often the A/C kicks on, and this is going to make it even worse.
I've been considering closing off the A/C vent in a couple of rarely-used rooms. (And then, of course, keeping the door closed and using a draft-blocker-thing-a-ma-jig.) I've done it before-- and it's still shut off in the utility room. However, I've always been a little unsure of whether or not it's such a great idea. I know I've read somewhere that the A/C works more efficiently if all the doors in the house are open (in situations where all the vents are open). Could it be bad for the A/C or actually cost more, somehow, to shut off vents and rooms? I need to research it. . .
(sigh) When will all these increasing expenses level off? (I'm not holding my breath in expectation of a decrease, but at least they could hold steady for a while!) I'm feeling pretty discouraged. . .
We still haven't ordered eyeglasses! We need to do that. . . All we have to do is measure one another's pupils (or something-- it's a measurement required to make sure the lens are aligned correctly for our individual faces), make the ultimate choice, and send the order winging off through cyberspace. So we should manage to get it done by Christmas or so. ;o)
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Clark Howard says electricity prices will spike this summer-- especially in warmer climates. Great! Just in time for the most miserable time of year, too. I appreciate the fact that he tries to put a positive spin on it (in the article linked above) by suggesting ways we can lower the bill, but I'm finding it difficult to be optimistic. I already obsess about how often the A/C kicks on, and this is going to make it even worse.
I've been considering closing off the A/C vent in a couple of rarely-used rooms. (And then, of course, keeping the door closed and using a draft-blocker-thing-a-ma-jig.) I've done it before-- and it's still shut off in the utility room. However, I've always been a little unsure of whether or not it's such a great idea. I know I've read somewhere that the A/C works more efficiently if all the doors in the house are open (in situations where all the vents are open). Could it be bad for the A/C or actually cost more, somehow, to shut off vents and rooms? I need to research it. . .
(sigh) When will all these increasing expenses level off? (I'm not holding my breath in expectation of a decrease, but at least they could hold steady for a while!) I'm feeling pretty discouraged. . .
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We still haven't ordered eyeglasses! We need to do that. . . All we have to do is measure one another's pupils (or something-- it's a measurement required to make sure the lens are aligned correctly for our individual faces), make the ultimate choice, and send the order winging off through cyberspace. So we should manage to get it done by Christmas or so. ;o)
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Random thoughts-- Lost, music, barking
To explain the inconsistent references to time in this entry-- I wrote this on Friday, but held off posting it. (I thought I had more to say.)
I felt a bit confused by some aspects of last night's episode of Lost. Well, that's not so strange, perhaps ;o) -- but I mean more confused than usual. Like I'd missed an episode. Which it turns out I had. But thanks to the online episodes, I'm all caught up now.
Um, if you follow the show (or plan to) and aren't up to date on it, beware of the next bit.
It will contain. . .
S
P
O
I
L
E
R
S
!
So Alexis died last week, and I didn't even know it! I guess "they" think that as long as they continue to introduce new characters into the story, we viewers won't mind if they kill them off right and left. Personally, I'm getting tired of it. They've already killed some of the characters I liked best. Yes, it's a powerful plot device to take someone out just when we least expect it, but I think they run the risk of overusing that little trick.
I got the impression that we were supposed to be really touched, or something, that Kate and Jack were finally together, living a happy, normal life. But I didn't particularly care. I don't know what it is about those two, but I'm not especially rooting for them to "get together". In fact, I wouldn't mind if they went their separate ways. I think I'm actually more interested in the "bad guy" (Ben) than I am in Jack.
And remember the sinister warnings about Aaron before he was born? There seemed to be an insinuation that he was somehow evil or was possibly destined for some evil fate. I wonder when that will come back into play. . . Looked it up. People say that the psychic insisted that Claire must raise the baby herself to prevent danger. So maybe now that Kate has Aaron, bad things will begin to happen. (Well, like they haven't been happening all along. (g))
On a similar note, Walt demonstrated some strange psychic (?) abilities, but it's been a long time since there was any mention of that-- possibly because he's been off the island for a while. (Though I guess his occasional ghostly "appearances" could count as more recent bizarre phenomena, come to think of it. (g)) And now there's the new guy from the boat who is obviously psychic. . . not to mention the whole Jacob thing and the appearance of "ghosts" to Flashforward Hurley and Flashforward Jack. . .
While listening briefly to "regular radio" (i.e. not talk radio, which is almost the only thing I listen to on the radio, these days), "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie (?) came on. I've heard bits of it before, but not until today have I heard enough to realize that it is the most annoying song in the universe (for today, at least). The stupid lyrics-- the whiny tones of her voice-- just every little thing about it is ir-ri-tat-ing!
Why must Molly bark and bark and bark? After putting in a long night's work of barking, you'd think she'd be all barked out-- but no. She's become really bad about barking at night.
(I finally gave in and let her come in one night, when we were expecting bad weather. Needless to say, we're now back in the habit of letting her in every evening. At least it keeps her quiet at night. . .)
I felt a bit confused by some aspects of last night's episode of Lost. Well, that's not so strange, perhaps ;o) -- but I mean more confused than usual. Like I'd missed an episode. Which it turns out I had. But thanks to the online episodes, I'm all caught up now.
Um, if you follow the show (or plan to) and aren't up to date on it, beware of the next bit.
It will contain. . .
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So Alexis died last week, and I didn't even know it! I guess "they" think that as long as they continue to introduce new characters into the story, we viewers won't mind if they kill them off right and left. Personally, I'm getting tired of it. They've already killed some of the characters I liked best. Yes, it's a powerful plot device to take someone out just when we least expect it, but I think they run the risk of overusing that little trick.
I got the impression that we were supposed to be really touched, or something, that Kate and Jack were finally together, living a happy, normal life. But I didn't particularly care. I don't know what it is about those two, but I'm not especially rooting for them to "get together". In fact, I wouldn't mind if they went their separate ways. I think I'm actually more interested in the "bad guy" (Ben) than I am in Jack.
And remember the sinister warnings about Aaron before he was born? There seemed to be an insinuation that he was somehow evil or was possibly destined for some evil fate. I wonder when that will come back into play. . . Looked it up. People say that the psychic insisted that Claire must raise the baby herself to prevent danger. So maybe now that Kate has Aaron, bad things will begin to happen. (Well, like they haven't been happening all along. (g))
On a similar note, Walt demonstrated some strange psychic (?) abilities, but it's been a long time since there was any mention of that-- possibly because he's been off the island for a while. (Though I guess his occasional ghostly "appearances" could count as more recent bizarre phenomena, come to think of it. (g)) And now there's the new guy from the boat who is obviously psychic. . . not to mention the whole Jacob thing and the appearance of "ghosts" to Flashforward Hurley and Flashforward Jack. . .
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While listening briefly to "regular radio" (i.e. not talk radio, which is almost the only thing I listen to on the radio, these days), "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie (?) came on. I've heard bits of it before, but not until today have I heard enough to realize that it is the most annoying song in the universe (for today, at least). The stupid lyrics-- the whiny tones of her voice-- just every little thing about it is ir-ri-tat-ing!
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Why must Molly bark and bark and bark? After putting in a long night's work of barking, you'd think she'd be all barked out-- but no. She's become really bad about barking at night.
(I finally gave in and let her come in one night, when we were expecting bad weather. Needless to say, we're now back in the habit of letting her in every evening. At least it keeps her quiet at night. . .)
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