Little Dog Ollie is stepping into Rocco's very big foot prints. Heaven forbid if you walk into our yard and don't tell Ollie who you are. He'll stand at the kitchen door giving whomever hell. How does he know anyone is out there. Periodically he walks to the kitchen door, sticks his nose in the crack and inhales. REALLY INHALES, I couldn't be surprised to find small critters flat up against the door from the incredible Shi Tsu vacuum nose. He goes and sniffs and if all is well he comes back to the couch only to repeat it all in about half an hour. Rocco used to keep vigil on a desk under the front window where he could watch the world and let Ollie know what was going on. So Ollie has found his own way.
Ollie loves squeaky toys. Rocco used to destroy them by pulling out the squeaky so Ollie began hiding them. He'd take his squeaky outside, to return squeakyless and with a filthy face.
Since Michael has been mowing the lawn, he's been finding Ollie's hidden treasures and brings them to the house and gives them to Ollie. Ollie give him a look and then with a huge little dog sigh, picks up the squeaky and goes outside to bury it again. Only to have Michale find them and return them again. What's a little dog to do? There are six squeakies in Josh's bed, one in my purse and a little thing that has no squeak that I got as a gift from one of my china ebay things and gave to Ollie who is thrilled with it, in my shoe. Yes the one squeaky is still in my purse but the chinese thing had to come out of my shoe. I may wear mismatched socks at time but draw the line of something else inhabiting my shoe with my foot.
Ollie didn't have the language that Rocco had but he has language of his own. Bentiful came out with a veggie like treat for dogs. I bought a pack on a whim and Ollie DOES NOT LIKE THEM! BUt he does have a use for them. If he wants a treat and we are being dense, he drops the pea colored and shaped treat at our feet and looks up at us as if to say, "What, you want written instructions?". I realise now that maybe Ollie has been the smart one all along and just got Rocco to do his dirty work while they would both benefit.
Lunch calls. More later.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Playing catchup
What the heck have I been doing that has kept me from posting to my blog. Hmmm let me think. (cue jeopardy theme song) Ending world hunger? Peace in our time. Nope. Can't come up with a good enough excuse.
Foreclosure is a fear for me. A hot gut chewing, head splitting fear. I can almost see myself living in a cardboard box under a bridge someplace. I wonder if I need two boxes. One for me, one for my craft supplies.
I've tried to get my craft room into shape. When that happens I'll give you a heads up so you can all prepare for the end of the world. I have managed to clean out a few drawers of my Iris carts so that they are really and truly empty. But what to do with the stuff I culled... Right now its going in a tote, each category in its own separate bag. Why not toss it out? Who knows when I'll need a spoon shaped wooden stick, or the plastic lizards or the plastic cocktail animals. We all know that the minute I throw them out, will be the minute before I realise I need them for something.
During the cleaning I did uncover a basket full of art dolls that I did who knows when. When I find things like this, I am often surprised by how well I did or how much I like them, but the minute I complete another one, I think it's crap and stuff it away in a drawer. I have gotten brave and offered a trio of my polymer clay angels as a prize for an on line raffle for one of our needy list members. Ah, but bravery does not last long and now i'm fretting that the winner will think them crap and be disappointed in their prize. But I really have little else to offer other than the aforementioned plastic cocktail animals etc. still I will bake the angels and gloss them and hope whoever gets them isn't disappointed.
Over the years I have joined swaps and things on this same list and more time than not, I get stiffed. It happened with my first one, where we sent a box of goodies to one person and received a box from another. Except my sender dropped off the face of the earth and I never did get anything. Another time I won something in a raffle that the prize giver then couldn't find and so I waited and waited till I finally gave up, bought myself what the prize was only to have the prize suddenly mailed to me. I'll join this raffle simply because the person could use every cent she can get but won't get my hopes up for a prize for myself.
I'm starting to get good with not getting my hopes up. I don't look forward to anything. This way I won't be disappointed. I hate having my hopes dashed, crushed pulverized. IF I don't hope I don't hurt.
For instance. The husband is old enough to qualify for a reverse mortgage. After 4 months of back and forth with our mortgage co they say they will accept a short sale figure. Now we have to fart around with the second mortgage company who are becoming real buttholes so we STILL don't know if its a go. IF we do manage to get this, it'll mean that we no longer have a mortgage to pay and I can get rid of the cardboard boxes If we don't get it... I don't know what we'll do. I'm sure that the people on the list are tired of my pity poor mes when so many others are facing real crises so I try to keep this to myself.
11:11 is popping up again. I don't want to know. What good is knowing that something is going to happen if you don't know what the something is and can't change it, even if you did know?
I still miss Rocco the Wonder Dog so desperately that, even now, I'm fighting tears. Tears, hell, big gut wrenching sobs and a nose running like a faucet. The husband has no patience with that and thinks I should be over it by now. I will never be over it. It's not so much the loss but the fact that I have never known ANYONE, human or not who just loved life so much. Everything was an adventure for Rocco, a thrill, a treat and he should be around to still enjoy sunshine and chicken chips and sitting on the desk looking out the front window. And I should be there enjoying all of that with him. Except sitting on the desk. KNowing me it would be more falling off the desk than anything.
I've had no desire to craft and so my stuff sits there looking pitiful when I settle myself at my work desk but, still no inspiration comes.
We were supposed to go away for a four day weekend but with business wayyyyy down, that's impossible. Even if we get the go ahead on the reverse mortgage, we still have to give them $4,000. Then there;s $1,700 for a business license we didn't know we needed and still aren't sure that we actually DO need it.
But there are bright spots. Little cat Isabella has now made herself my protector. If I should give into tears that are always too near the surface even WITH prozac, she comes running to me, talking to herself the whole time till she reaches me then does something so silly I have to laugh. She also comes running when I laugh or sing and she perches on the edge of the bed, like Rocco used to, ever vigilant.
Younger son has gotten a new job that will be paying him almost twice what he was making before. It puts his house buying dreams on hold for a while but that means he'll still be home with us for a bit. The new job has lightened him so that h's almost a new person. It's great to see him so happy.
It's getting to be grilling season which the older son loves. So much so, he bought us $45 worth of steaks just so he has something to grill.
Younger son brough two dozen crabs home when he returned from his weekend at the ocean.... When I lived it new Jersey we went to The Shore, here we go Downey Ocean. (Down the Ocean)
So I think that catches stuff up. I'm sure I'll remember more as soon as I end this.
Foreclosure is a fear for me. A hot gut chewing, head splitting fear. I can almost see myself living in a cardboard box under a bridge someplace. I wonder if I need two boxes. One for me, one for my craft supplies.
I've tried to get my craft room into shape. When that happens I'll give you a heads up so you can all prepare for the end of the world. I have managed to clean out a few drawers of my Iris carts so that they are really and truly empty. But what to do with the stuff I culled... Right now its going in a tote, each category in its own separate bag. Why not toss it out? Who knows when I'll need a spoon shaped wooden stick, or the plastic lizards or the plastic cocktail animals. We all know that the minute I throw them out, will be the minute before I realise I need them for something.
During the cleaning I did uncover a basket full of art dolls that I did who knows when. When I find things like this, I am often surprised by how well I did or how much I like them, but the minute I complete another one, I think it's crap and stuff it away in a drawer. I have gotten brave and offered a trio of my polymer clay angels as a prize for an on line raffle for one of our needy list members. Ah, but bravery does not last long and now i'm fretting that the winner will think them crap and be disappointed in their prize. But I really have little else to offer other than the aforementioned plastic cocktail animals etc. still I will bake the angels and gloss them and hope whoever gets them isn't disappointed.
Over the years I have joined swaps and things on this same list and more time than not, I get stiffed. It happened with my first one, where we sent a box of goodies to one person and received a box from another. Except my sender dropped off the face of the earth and I never did get anything. Another time I won something in a raffle that the prize giver then couldn't find and so I waited and waited till I finally gave up, bought myself what the prize was only to have the prize suddenly mailed to me. I'll join this raffle simply because the person could use every cent she can get but won't get my hopes up for a prize for myself.
I'm starting to get good with not getting my hopes up. I don't look forward to anything. This way I won't be disappointed. I hate having my hopes dashed, crushed pulverized. IF I don't hope I don't hurt.
For instance. The husband is old enough to qualify for a reverse mortgage. After 4 months of back and forth with our mortgage co they say they will accept a short sale figure. Now we have to fart around with the second mortgage company who are becoming real buttholes so we STILL don't know if its a go. IF we do manage to get this, it'll mean that we no longer have a mortgage to pay and I can get rid of the cardboard boxes If we don't get it... I don't know what we'll do. I'm sure that the people on the list are tired of my pity poor mes when so many others are facing real crises so I try to keep this to myself.
11:11 is popping up again. I don't want to know. What good is knowing that something is going to happen if you don't know what the something is and can't change it, even if you did know?
I still miss Rocco the Wonder Dog so desperately that, even now, I'm fighting tears. Tears, hell, big gut wrenching sobs and a nose running like a faucet. The husband has no patience with that and thinks I should be over it by now. I will never be over it. It's not so much the loss but the fact that I have never known ANYONE, human or not who just loved life so much. Everything was an adventure for Rocco, a thrill, a treat and he should be around to still enjoy sunshine and chicken chips and sitting on the desk looking out the front window. And I should be there enjoying all of that with him. Except sitting on the desk. KNowing me it would be more falling off the desk than anything.
I've had no desire to craft and so my stuff sits there looking pitiful when I settle myself at my work desk but, still no inspiration comes.
We were supposed to go away for a four day weekend but with business wayyyyy down, that's impossible. Even if we get the go ahead on the reverse mortgage, we still have to give them $4,000. Then there;s $1,700 for a business license we didn't know we needed and still aren't sure that we actually DO need it.
But there are bright spots. Little cat Isabella has now made herself my protector. If I should give into tears that are always too near the surface even WITH prozac, she comes running to me, talking to herself the whole time till she reaches me then does something so silly I have to laugh. She also comes running when I laugh or sing and she perches on the edge of the bed, like Rocco used to, ever vigilant.
Younger son has gotten a new job that will be paying him almost twice what he was making before. It puts his house buying dreams on hold for a while but that means he'll still be home with us for a bit. The new job has lightened him so that h's almost a new person. It's great to see him so happy.
It's getting to be grilling season which the older son loves. So much so, he bought us $45 worth of steaks just so he has something to grill.
Younger son brough two dozen crabs home when he returned from his weekend at the ocean.... When I lived it new Jersey we went to The Shore, here we go Downey Ocean. (Down the Ocean)
So I think that catches stuff up. I'm sure I'll remember more as soon as I end this.
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