Early Morning Adoration

It never fails. I get up to tend to the dogs, and as soon as the coffee is done, I feel like I am sitting on a pedestal.

And they called it Puppy Love...

I was never a dog owner, or even had a preference for them. Growing up, I was only allowed to have pets that could fit in small cages. The hamsters were fun because they learned to crawl out of it at night, and find their way back to their “home” in the morning. The iguana…. well, that didn’t last long, after my mom found it. And now that I’m a dog owner, I can’t imagine being without one.

Thanks to reader Aewl for the inspiration 🙂

Paradoxes

It has come to my attention that in life, there are some paradoxes that can’t be explained. Right now, one of them is bugging me no end:

Why is it that my Home Owners Association demands that we water our lawns and keep them green, but the city demands that we only water once a week, and for only an hour??

That’s not my lawn, but close enough. Thankfully, we had a nice day of rain yesterday. No deluge, but at least it was steady, and between that and watering my lawn on the sly, perhaps the backyard will be nice and pretty for Eldest’s party come Saturday. Oh, I do have a sprinkler system, but my water bill was astronomical, so now I have the wavy sprinkler and do hand watering when I remember to do it.

Sigh….

 

The Stuff of Nightmares

I don’t have nightmares very often. Once or twice I have woken up in tears, and those were bad. I can even remember them vividly. But usually the so-called “nightmares” I have don’t involve death, dismemberment, blood, guts, gore (Al Gore, yes, but that’s a subject for another post), or maiming.

I know…I’m doing it wrong.

No, what I classify as a “nightmare” usually leaves me feeling anxious and overwhelmed, like I’m drowning and can’t get to the surface. This time was no different. I had a bad dream where I was travelling with my family to another country, and was at the airport going through screening, and the TSA agent asks for our ID, which were our Social Security cards, and my son forgot his at home, so Hubby had to go to the Justice of the Peace (I don’t get that either), and get a facsimile for the agent, while the line got longer and longer, and when he returned, the agent used it for HIM, not for son, and I told her she made a mistake, and she yelled, “WE NEVER MAKE MISTAKES!!!”, and a guard came over and took me to a holding cell, and Hubby said he would take the kids on the vacation, and would pick me up afterwards, and the agents then proceeded to tell me why they don’t make mistakes, and all the time they were cutting Eldest’s birthday cake and eating it!!!!

Like this, only with TSA gloves.

I woke up anxious and scared, and the first thing to go through my mind was, “I better not have to go through TSA screening when I go pick up the cake.”

Which on the surface is ridiculous, but scaringly possible. About the TSA checking other places, not about them eating the cake.

Yet.

Unanswered Questions

What a way to start off my Monday. As is my habit, I check Facebook in the morning for snippets of news and to see what everyone else is doing for the day. I’m curious, I admit it. Anyway, I look over to see that I have been “poked” by several friends. And that got me to thinking…

What is the purpose of the Facebook “poke”?

Seriously??

Really, what is the point of it? It has no purpose, other than to let someone else know that you thought highly enough of them to virtually stick your finger out and plunge it against their virtual chest. If someone were to actually do that to me in reality, I would be forced to take their finger and break it.

Which leads to another question: why isn’t there a “break finger” option to “poking” on Facebook?? 😉

Sunday Sithy

Sometimes the Sith World can be rather funny:

I hope y’all enjoy your Sunday 🙂

Dangerous Liasons

My friend The Nomstress is here for a quick visit, planning to take Son for a week. And when she is in town, bad things happen to my checkbook:

These are Trollbeads, and they are addictive. Hubby will attest I have….a few. And yesterday eldest got her very own bracelet for her birthday, composed of the Chakhra beads, which I had been collecting for over eight months. Anyway, Nomstress tells me she needs to go to the Trollbeads store to exchange a leather bracelet.

Best laid plans, and all that rot.

They had just received a huge lot of “universal uniques”, which will fit other brands of bracelets, as well. And they were sooo pretty!!! So I caved. And it didn’t help matters having Eldest and Nomstress cheering me on, either.

Sigh….. 😉

 

Bittersweetness

Today is the day.

She is sixteen years old. She is taller than I am. She is beautiful, inside and out. And as I sit here and write about her, and think about how wonderful she is, I reflect on that day sixteen years ago when she came into the world and my heart breaks, knowing that she will never be my baby again.

Happy birthday to my oldest bundle of joy 🙂

300th Comment!!

And the honor goes to….

MITCHELL!!

And thankfully, he didn’t put a link to a shopping site when he commented. Though he did mention Shang Tea, which, coincidentally, is where my friend Nicole got the wonderful white tea that Hubby prefers, and by “prefer” I mean “will kill for.”

I guess I’m going Yorling again….sigh…..

One Last Letter

Dear Tide:

I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I’ve used it all of my married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best. Now that I am in my forties I find it even better!

In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to belittle me about how clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck. One thing led to another and somehow I ended up with his blood on my new white blouse!

Diorama *not* made by me...

I grabbed my bottle of Tide with bleach alternative, and to my surprise and satisfaction, all of the stains came out! In fact, the stains came out so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me that the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and said that I was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my husband.

What a relief! Going through menopause is bad enough without being a murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for having a great product.

Well, gotta go. Have to write to the Hefty bag people next!

Sincerely,

A grateful Aggie 😉

Java the Hutt

I used to be a big tea drinker. I mean BIG. It was my beverage of choice every morning. I loved to watch it steep, the liquid turn into an amber nectar that would lift my spirits and recharge and soothe me at the same time.

And then I got pregnant with Eldest. And tea tasted like warm strychnine laced with rat poison. This is NOT an exaggeration. True, I have never tasted either, but from the descriptions I have read in murder mysteries, it came close. I was bereft. I could no longer partake of any kind of tea, not even southern sweet tea. No matter how much sugar I added, and believe me, I added a LOT of sugar, the taste was still acrid. Nothing helped. This went on for about a year and a half, until we returned to the mainland from being stationed in Hawaii. And then I went to my inlaws one Saturday morning, and my MIL fixed me a cup of coffee out of habit. Not wanting to be rude, I decided to drink it, after adding the requisite amounts of half and half and sugar.

ZOMG!!! I could drink it! And I have been a convert ever since.

I can NOT function without a cup in the morning, and usually make sure to drink at least two cups, just to be on the safe side. And though I can now drink the southern sweet iced tea and can drink some other hot teas, I still prefer coffee. I am not a coffee snob by any stretch, but do have my favorites. And no, Starbucks isn’t one of them. I’m sure some of you will be shocked about that. But hey, it’s my blog and I brew what I want to 😉