Roxanne

This is Roxanne aliases are Roxie, Rock, Rock- a- Roni, Pooker, Doodles, Fat Butt and Rolls. She is one of the sweetest, most loyal, smartest and laziest dogs I have ever had.
After we had to have Big Dog put to sleep for medical reasons, we waited a few months before deciding whether to become a 2 dog family again. Our other dog at the time, Mouse made the decision for us. Mouse became very depressed after we lost Big and Hubby and I started to worry about her. She clearly wasn't happy being an only dog, so off to the pound we went.
We tried our local shelter first, but this being the city the only dogs available were either small yappy dogs, or pitbull mixes. Not that we have anything against either of those types of dogs, we just prefer laid back easy-going mutts. So we went out to the country shelter.
I hate going to shelters, it breaks my heart that I can't adopt every pup I see. But I knew we could save at least one life. We went into the puppy room and took a look at the available dogs.
Hubby pulled a light brown and white pup ( I think it was part beagle) out of it's cage and started holding it. Well, trying to hold it. She was squirming and licking and generally going puppy-nuts. I wasn't too keen on training a wild-child, but we brought Mouse into the shelter for her opinion. She took a polite sniff of the little girl, and the pup nipped her back. Mouse went over to the corner of the room and layed down. We headed back to the puppy room.
As we were putting wild thing back in her cage, I took a glance in the cage next to her. There curled up was a bundle of black fur with the most soulful golden eyes a dog could have. Those eyes were like my Big Dog's eyes and instantly I fell in love. We took her out and she hugged our necks. No jumping, wriggling or nipping from this girl- just a sweet kiss on the cheek and a contented sigh at being held. Hubby was hesitant, he thought she might be sick or something, so I asked Mouse again for her opinion. Mouse sniffed the pup, licked her face and the pup responded in kind. Then Mouse went to lay down in the corner and the pup followed her and curled up next to her.
We adopted her, but decided we would name her when we found a name that suited her personality.
Since we were out in the country anyway, we decided to stop at a creek we knew and catch some helgemites (sp?). They make fantastic fish bait, and this was one place where we always had luck. Hubby, Mouse, the new pup and I went to the park and headed for the creek. The pup was in hog heaven. She jumped into the creek and swam in circles over and over.(Mouse was just a wader type dog- only up to her belly thank you very much) While Hubby and I were turning over rocks looking for bait, the pup would start playing with the rocks we had just turned over.
We didn't get any helgemites that day, but we did get a new family member who quickly named herself. And the name she chose was Roxie.

Next....What happened to that laid back puppy we adopted????

Dowser cont'd

It's not that I dislike cats- I'm just more of a dog person. I grew up in a farm-like environment and the dogs were allowed in the house, my shetland pony was snuck in a couple of times by my brothers,but cats were relegated to the barn because of my dad's allergies. So cats to me were just 4-legged mice catchers. That all changed when Dowser crossed our threshold.

Our older dog, Mouse, took on the role of kitty mom. Cleaning and discipline were her duties. Roxie played the role of littermate and her job was to play with kitty. I was amazed at the patience displayed by my girls when Dowser would stick her claws into their muzzle and juast hang off of it as they tried to walk. Neither of the dogs ever gave the cat more than a corrective nip. This helped to shape Dowser into a mix of cat and dog personality.

When hubby got his kitty, he agreed she would stay in the garage, except when it was too hot or too cold, and I promised (with crossed fingers) not have her spayed. Both promises lasted less then 2 months. Dowser is a little cat and was an even littler kitten, there was no way I could throw her into the world with all of the big toms that roam the hood, so she is in inside cat. About 2 days into her first heat cycle, hubby was climbing the walls with all of the yeowling from her and the neighborhood cats, that he begged me to take her to the vet and have her fixed.

Her litterbox started out in hubby's room, but was soon put in the bathroom, where it became my responsibilty to keep clean. The dogs must have sensed Mom didn't like this chore and set out to change things. They would herd Dowser outside when they went out, and somehow they managed to housebreak that cat. Now, I purchase one box of litter a year and the only time kit uses it is when it is raining hard, or the snow is too deep. She much prefers to go outside like her buddies. Amen.
The down side to being raised by dogs, is little Dowser is absolutely fearless around other animals, no Tomcat is ever gonna whomp her azz. Same goes for the dogs in the hood. She willwhack my neighbor's Rottie on the nose through the fence, then run next to Roxie or Rosie's side and sit there all smug looking at him. My cat has a posse, ain't noone gonna whomp her.

my little dog/cat

Now that we have met my neighbors. I thought it was time to meet my family. I'll start with the smallest first.. This is Dowser our cat that thinks she's a dog most of the time. I remember very well the day we got her. It was on a rainy day in October of 2000. Hubby and I were bored so we loaded up Mouse and Roxie into the Dodge Shadow and headed to the flea market. I forget what we were actually looking for, if anything. I t was getting near closing time, and we were hurrying along the aisles while the dogs waited patiently in the car. Hubby spotted a lady with a litter of kittens and jokingly offered her a quarter for one. She accepted the price, but hubby gave her a five anyway and told her to keep the change. I was not in the least bit happy about acquiring a new pet, especially since I am the one who usually winds up feeding them, taking them to the vet and cleaning up after them. Hubby swore up and down that kitty wouldn't be a burden as she could live outside with access to the garage and he would see to it she got fed. I relented, but was admandant that she get spayed. Oh no, Hubby wanted kitty to be able to bring fresh blood to the neighborhood gene pool. Knowing that someday when he was camping, I would sneak miss Kitty off to get her uterus ripped out, I let him keep her. He perched the little kitten on his shoulder and we continued our stroll through the flea market.
As we were approaching the concession stand, someone opened a door and the kitten, sensing her one last chance at freedom, bolted out into the rain, with hubby in hot pursuit. As I watched her dash under a storage shed, while Hubby kneeled in the mud trying to coax her out, I thought maybe it was for the best if he didn't get her back. There were lots of cats living around the place and they were well fed and happy-this one could be too. But as my luck would have it, he wrested her from her hiding place, soaking wet and wild-eyed (the cat,not Hubby) and tucked into his shirt.
"So what's her name?" I inquired. He told me he wanted to name her after that monster in Ghostbusters- "Gozer?" said I- "No." he argued back "It's name was Dowser." Not wanting another cat-related spat, I just kept my mouth shut and let him think he was right.
The ride home was fun-not. We had 2 dogs in a little Dodge Shadow jumping around the back seat, it was starting to rain harder and we were a 45 minute trip on the highway from home. (The only thing I dislike more than driving on the highway, is driving on the highway in bad weather)Now add a loose kitten to the mix and you can see what an adventure it was. We all made it home safely- save my frayed nerves and welcomed Dowser into the household.

more on Dowser tomorrow.....

How many prayers?

Yesterday was a bad day for me.
After finally tracking down Alan and thinking he was doing alright, his mom called to say he was back in the hospital. I haven't found out why yet, but hope to today. I also found out a lady I used to work with for many years has pancreatic cancer that has spread to her liver. She is about 20 years older than me and I admired her not only for how she kept up with us young folk physically, but her upbeat nature in general.

The irony is not lost to me. This town has 6 hospitals in a 2 mile radius (we call it pill hill around here). In the same building, one of my friends is trying to purposely pickle his liver and kill himself, while another woman is fighting desperately to stay alive.
I started praying for them both, when I realized just how many things I ask God for. I am not a church going, amen hallelujah type- as a matter of fact I find all organized religions to be a bit self-serving. I believe Christ walked this Earth and was probably a very kind hearted and philosophical man. But -and I may get smoted for this- I am cynical when it comes to him being the Son of God in the flesh, the Messiah. Still, I believe there is a greater power than us. Things just intertwine too much on this planet for there not to be. Every thing on Earth has a purpose, be they good or bad. I have also prayed for mini miracles (mostly in the financial way) in the past and had unexpected things happen. So I believe in the power of prayer, however it works.
Some things science isn't meant to figure out. I started making a mental list of these prayers-none of which involve my needing money, but things I have found that are more important to me.........
I pray .....
-That my friend Alan finds somewhere in himself, a strong enough reason to live, that he quits trying to drink himself to death.
-That my former co-worker and a little boy down south, can beat the cancers that are ravaging their bodies. One through traditional medicine, the other through new age ways.
-That an internet buddy's heart is lifted after the death of his beloved pet.
-That another friend can finally be together with the man that loves her, and it all works out.
-That a kind-hearted woman can find someone to have fun with, that doesn't want a lifelong commitment. And also that her special project comes to fruition.
- That my husband can quit being so suspicious of people's ulterior motives, quit remembering all the wrongs that happened to him in the past and just be positive for a change.
- That my sis-in-law can find a new and better job before she loses the one she has.
I know God will listen to my prayers, I don't know how they will be answered, but I do know it will be in a way that is best in His eyes.

A man's garage is his castle....

I wonder if I'm strange, because sometimes when I drive past houses with cars in the driveway and a multi-car garage, I often think "What do they have in their garage?" Our 2 car number stores a dead 1984 VW Rabbit Diesel pickup crammed full of fishing and camping gear that rests on dry rotted tires. Also a varied assortment of auction, yard sale,garbage raiding and inherited junk. Oh and the bike I bought myself for my birthday 5 years ago that has only been ridden 3 times, the old broken hot tub cover (I spent 200 bucks for a new cover and the the tub of course died soon after, but I still keep the new one on the dead thing) and our lawnmower.
I know for sure Hank's garage has a table saw, since I've seen him drag it out into the driveway every so often after he wakes me up with the damn thing. But what other mysteries lie within that space I haven't a clue. It must be crammed full, because a few years ago the Hills bought a lovely barn-looking shed. Which promptly got painted battleship gray with blue trim(but only one color of shingle) and a week later sported a tacky weathervane on top. Who puts a weather vane on top of a six foot tall shed in the city???? <----rhetorical question.

Rebel without a clue.....
Last summer, one of Hank's older girls must have turned 18. How do I know? Hank went out and bought himself a black Honda Shadow motorcycle. This means one of 2 things....either he makes a lot of overtime guarding roller rinks and bingoes off duty, or he got done with some child support. Since the boy is all I see over there anymore, I'm guessing the latter.
Now Hank didn't want his new baby to live outside, so something had to move out of the garage. (I opted for the table saw- but he had other ideas) Out went the lawnmower...

Hank and H.W. are positively anal about the seasonal cycles, the pool opens on Memorial Day and closes on Labor Day- doesn't matter if it's still 90 degrees in September, on goes the cover.
When grass-cutting time came to the hood, I started to worry about them. All the neighbors on the street had mowed their grass already.(Including that weird family with 2 dead cars in the driveway and a house with no gutters) Even I had mowed what passes for our lawn twice, but the Hill's grass was starting to look like a hayfield.
While going upstairs one evening, I looked out my window and saw that Hank's mower was left out in the rain. I called to hubby to come have a look-see, and we chuckled to each other. We knew that he would never get that mower running now. I half-jokingly said "Maybe he wants an excuse to buy a new mower." The very next day H.W. came out and supervised as Hank tried in mock desperation to start the thing. No luck. Off to Home Depot to get a new one!!! Sure enough a couple hours later Hank's out there cuttin the grass with the newest, top of the line mower he could find. But the most amusing (and sad) thing was what happened after....
Bobby- Hank's boy usually cuts the grass, but I guess with it being a new mower and all, Hank wanted to play with his new toy first. However when he was finished, he graciously allowed the boy to wash it off and then.....wax it. Patience, grasshopper one day you will get to walk behind this fine machine.
Hubby and I could always use a backup mower, and we're sure all his old one needs is a new spark plug, an air filter and a shot of starter fluid to get it running. We'll sneak over there on garbage night to get it (after 5:00 p.m. of course)

Epiloque
And so kind reader, I have taken you along on the journey of my neighbor's foibles up until last weekend. That is all I have to write for now. But do return, we have no plans to move soon and summer is just beginning..........

Sunshine, lollipops and ...well you know the song

Before I continue this story, I must regress to a very important detail I neglected to mention. Ole Hank (who, if we remember, knows the city code by heart) had a pool installed in his 50' x100' yard. Well, the week before the pool arrived ass called a tree service to come in and trim his other neighbor's lovely old black walnut trees so that no limb should have a chance to dare drop leaves or walnuts into his pool. Ever since then I had the impression the Hill's didn't appreciate nature. At the time, I was right. But then Hank's Wife retired.

I love nature.....It just needs some redecorating
Hank's Wife used to be a nagging pill when we first moved in, but when she retired, she mellowed a bit. One time I saw her in the grocery store, and though I did my best to avoid making eye contact, she actually came over and started a pleasant conversation with me. I forget what it was about, I only remembered that I was shocked that she had come to me, and that what came out of her mouth was genteel.
Now, I appreciate those who take pride in their house and yard (Lord knows, it looks like I could not care less about my own) but some people can take it too far.
I know a bit about gardening-it is my occupation, but not my hobby. Most folks I have found usually design their yards around plants they enjoy;perennials, butterfly plants, hardy tropical, that sort of thing. Hank Wife's love seems to be garden ornaments. First there was the motion sensor owl that hooted and spun it's head whenever a bird dared to land on the pool edge.
Hubby swears Hank had a spy camera in the thing that was watching our every move, but that's another chapter.
We used to have a dollar store at the end of the street(praise God it's out of business now) that sold tons of tacky trinkets for home and garden, and it seemed everyday, H.W. (Hank's Wife)
would bring another Chinese manufactured piece of crap to put in her flower bed. There are tinkly windchimes that blow in the slightest breeze, giving me the same relaxing sound that nails on a blackboard produce. Resin frogs, pigs and cows tucked among the dianthus. Porch flags that fly for every conceivable and inconceivable holiday. But by far the biggest laugh of a decoration has to be the rusted metal American flag with "Welcome" painted on it that stands by the front walk.....right behind the hand painted sign Hank made (at 7 a.m. one Saturday in his driveway with his table saw) that reads "KEEP OFF GRASS".
All the gazing globes and doodads in the world cannot satisfy one who's desire is to constantly redecorate, so in went a water garden, complete with little kiss blowing cement angel perched atop the rock waterfall.
Don't fence me in......
Okay if we've been paying attention, we know that Hank got himself a genuine Labrador retriever so he could have a swimmin dog like us. Guess what? LABS LIKE WATER!!! OF COURSE HE'S GONNA JUMP INTO THE POND YA MORONS!!!"
Poor Hank, H.W. chewed him (Hank, not Murphy) a new one and made him rebuild the waterfall. (aside to Hank, they make this stuff called ce-ment that will hold rocks together) The kiss blowing angel once again safely on her perch, got a new foot high fence for her water garden and she and the fishies are safe. The gazing globe in the back garden wasn't as lucky after being "played with"- ya idjut, labs play with balls too. So a new globe and fence was purchased for that garden as well. Just to be safe, fences were purchased for all of the flower beds, regardless of whether the Lab could get to them or not.

Closer to present.....A man's garage (and shed) are his castle or wax on wax off.

fraidy the felon

Thank God the three strikes rule of law didn't take effect until a few years ago, or I would be in jail for the following grievious errors. I can't remember exactly the timeline they occurred in, and it doesn't really matter, I am a lawbreaker! Previous to this the only offense on my record is a parking ticket some 25 years ago.

Now Hank bein a depooty surenuff and all, knew the laws and ordinances of this fine city. I don't know if the guy spent the time between walking perps to court reading the municipal code book or what- but he knows when he is legally allowed to start up power equipment (7 a.m.) as well as the finer points. And he must have shared these little gems with his wife because....

Case #1 It's 4:30 p.m. - do you know where your trash is?
Monday night is garbage night in our hood, except when us civil servants have a holiday on Monday, then it's delayed to Tuesday. Well, with my schedule I work every other holiday, so sometimes I forget. So I get off work at 4, come home and start lugging the cans to the curb. About this time, Hank's wife is going to her car to get something and oh so not politely shouts " Trash night is tomorrow, and besides the cans aren't supposed to go out until after 5." I muttered back "Okay thanks" and walked into the house. As I turned to go in I noticed quite a few of my neighbors had forgotten the holiday rule, so I left the cans out. I never quite understood why I couldn't put my trash out until 5, especially since I usually only have one or two cans and I never block the sidewalk. Do the rats and raccons around here wear watches? I wonder if it's like that Warner Brother's cartoon with the sheepdog (I think his name was Ralph) punches the time clock then sits down to watch the flock. I imagine some giant rat kissing his bucktoothed rat-wife goodbye and grabbing his empty lunch bucket to go off raiding the garbage cans. "Bye Alice, I'm off to work now" To which rat-wife would reply "George I think the house at 8453 had a cookout this week, see if you can find something nice, I kinda feel like steak bones tonight. Oh and don't foget we're out of formula so stop by the cans at the house where they just had that baby."
Incident #2- Breaking down the door
One afternoon, my hubby and I decided to meet up at a bar I used to work at. (yeah the same place I got my parking ticket, by coincidence)After a few, I walked to my car, and he finished his drink and went to his car. I arrived home safe and sound, and after an hour when he didn't show, I started to wonder what the hell happened to him. I went upstairs to use the bathroom, when he started pounding on the front door for me to let him in and I heard a piece of glass break. Well being that my pants were around my ankles at the time, I couldn't exactly rush to the door, so he shouted again to let him. I ran downstairs opened the door , and asked what the hell happened. He had been carjacked aand robbed at knifepoint on the way to his truck and was forced to drive the punk to the worst part of town. When he dropped the guy off, he was surrounded by 6 of this guy's buddies and he thought he was going to be killed, so he revved his truck up onto the sidewalk, almost running them over, and made his escape. When he got home, he was shaking so bad, he couldn't get his key in the lock and instead hit a pane of glass with the tip of the key, breaking it. Being upset and not realizing I was on the pot, he shouted for me to open the door. After we both calmed down a bit, the 2 biggest of our city's finest knocked on our door. Seems the Hills were damn certain we were going at it, and hubby was gonna kill me or something. I appreciate the concern guys, but if my old man gets that mad where I fell my mortality is threatened, you will see my ass running out the door, then you can call the police. One officer stayed in the house to watch my non-wife beating hubby, while the other took me out on the porch to talk about what happened. When I told him, I was kind of upset because he didn't seem at all concerned about my husband almost being killed, and just said well, the neighbors called because they heard shouting over here, have a nice day. Yeah right, my husband gets carjacked, then the police come to our house, what a nice pleasant evening.

The final strike......
In 2001, I bought a Blazer, but kept my old Dodge Shadow as a backup car. It had a rear tire that always leaked air, the CV joints were going out, and it was a rust bucket, but it was paid for and was there if I needed to put the Blazer in the shop. To make life easier and not have to play musical cars, I usually kept it parked in front of my house on the street. Every few days I would start it up and drive around the block, just in case the cops had marked the tires. (I don't know all the laws like Hank, but I do know it's illegal to keep your car parked in one place too long)
One morning, I was going to get something out of the Dodge when I noticed the driver's side door had been bent open at the top. Someone was trying to steal it. The other 2 vehicles were in the driveway, so the hubby pulled the Shadow into our front yard while we drove them out on the street so we could put the Shadow in the back of the driveway. I swear it wasn't ther but five minutes when the police showed up and told us we had to move it right then, because it's illegal to put your car in the front yard. Seems old Hank called the cops yet again. I explained to the police officer why the car was in the front yard, but they didn't care, it had to move. Well, the hubby's truck wouldn't start, and we put the battery charger on it for the night. The Dodge went back out into the street for the night. That was the last I saw of ole Betsy, she was gone the next morning when I got up. Someone had stolen her, flat tire, bad CV joints near empty gas tank and all.

NEXT.... sunhine,lollipops and rainbows

Hank and the Amazing Technicolor Deck

Well, the Hills now have the right pool , the right kinda swimmin dog and a deck. Are they satisfied yet? OOOOOH noooo the Hills can never let anything stay the same for more than a week. They have a plain wood deck, sealed with waterproofing applied by Hank's handy-dandy new power painter (which he likes to use at 7 a.m., the earliest our city ordinance says you can use power equipment) but what that backyard needed was color! --I guess the three different colors of shingles on their garage wasn't enough. So, first they go out and buy a lovely shade of paint to match the house trim. I call it mental institute green- you know, that nice calming pastel minty baby poop green. Out comes the powerpainter and the deck is now green. EGAD!!!! That is uglier then we imagined says Hank's wife; and is soon as it was dry, another trip to the paint store for a nice neutral battleship gray. I'm guessing Cotton must have picked that color, since it reminded him of his glory days on the ships in the marines. Well, now that was too bland. The next sunny day I looked out my kitchen window (I keep the curtains closed most of the time, but sometimes I peek out just to watch the madness) and damn if that deck wasn't being painted blue. Three paint jobs and one sealing later, they finally stuck with it. Only trouble house , the Hills had a white house with mental institute green trim. The next weekend, ole Hank once again had his trusty power painter out at 7 in the morning painting the entire house battleship gray with blue trim.
But the side of his garage that faces our yard is still white and green with 3 different color shingles.

Up next...It's 4:30 p.m.-do you know where your garbage is.

just like us

After the Hills realized we were'nt moving the tree, they decided to be civil and say "hi" after a month had passed.
We had two dogs at the time Mouse-a keeshound shepherd mix, and Big - a great Dane shepherd mix who was about 4foot at the shoulder on all fours and weighed around 95 pounds.
We have a deck that surrounded our pool and a six foot privacy fence. As it worked out the top step was only about 2 foot from the top of the fence, so Big could stand on it and look right over the fence. Hank wisely decided to make friends with Big.
At the time the Hills had one dog, a real cute terrier/basset looking thing named Fred. He's a cool little dog and is still around. Well, Hank decided he just had to get a big dog to, so they adopted a golden retriever (who has since gone to doggie heaven) and named him Blue. Well ole Hank was so goofy, he kept calling poor Blue, Big! So the moron had to go out and buy his dog a blue collar so he could remember the poor confused creature's name.
As just mentioned, we had a pool and after Big dog passed away, we adopted Roxie. I would get into the pool after work and Roxie would come running across the deck and cannonball in after me. Well, seeing how much fun we were having, the Hills just HAD to get a pool too. So up went the deck and the pool. Only problem was, ole Fred didn't like to swim. I would here them trying to coax Fred into the water with them and the little guy just refused. By this time Blue was gone, and they adopted some yappy little pain in the ass mutt named Nessa (what kinda dog name is that for gawd's sake?) who also wouldn't swim.
By this time ol Hank must have done some research to find out what kinda dog swims, because they adopted a black lab next. Miracles of miracles, he swims!At last, they had a dog that could swim like ours. Poor Hills- we gace away the pool 2 years ago because it was a pain in the butt to keep clean and the only one using it anymore was Roxie.
Now I'll let you in on a secret......Hank's real last name is Murphy. Guess what the lab's name is....yup Murphy.

Next installment.....it's green, no it's gray, no it's blue.

attention readers

The story of the the Hills will continue in the evening edition. The author stayed out singing too late once again and had too many beers, once again. and is late for work, once again. :s

Hills continued

Now 10 years ago, I had to find a new home quick. For political reasons, the Department was getting rid of all the caretaker's for the Parks. It sucked because besides being cheap rent, no commute and going home everyday for lunch, we had 50 acres to watch over. While I had great neighbors, they didn't live close enough to the house that I could watch their tv or smell what was cooking for dinner.
Anyhow, I wanted to live close to work so we went looking around the nicest neighborhood we could afford. We checked out a few houses, but most either smelled like catbox or needed to much repair just to move in. We found this one. I didn't "fall in love" with it, but it had the necessities (a hot tub-which has since died, and a bar within walking distance.) so we bought it.
We were surprised when my hubby's best friend's mom pulled up to the house next door. Seems like his friend's neice lived next door to our future home. That was cool. But on the other side.......
THE WELCOMELESS WAGON
A few weeks after moving in, my husband brought a juniper tree down from his grandma's house to plant in our side yard that borders the Hill's. We placed it in the spot we were going to plant it and went out to dinner. It was a rainy night, and when we got home we saw a plastic baggie tied to the little tree with a note inside that read....
"Before you plant this, do you know where the property line is?"
What a hoot, considering these assholes had their fence under our freakin eaves, and considered whatever land was on the other side of our fence part of their yard. (The previous owner had put our fence sitting 3 feet off of the property line of our house so he could paint or whatever)
We just took the note off the tree and threw it away.
We never did officialy plant that tree. Instead we broke the bottom of it's plastic pot, built a wall of stone around it and left it right where it was. That tree is now 25 feet tall, very healthy and blocks the view of their front porch from us when we are sitting on our front porch......

tuesday (now there's a creative title)

Not much been going on lately, just work, housework and yardwork. The idiot neighbor does his best to keep us in stitches, and we never even speak to them. Let me tell you about them....
We call them the Hills as in King of the Hill. I'll give you the cast rundown
1) Hank -is a depooty shuruff (actually he's a bailiff, who wishes he could chase bad guys) he was n't able to get into the marines for some reason (we guess a narrow urethra). He makes up for it by riding a big ole Honda Shadow and flying a Marine flag in his front yard because his dad was in the Marines....which brings us to ....
2) Cotton - Hank's dad, former Marine. Short, nasty. Never heard him do anything but bark orders to Hank's kid who visits every other weekend, or.....
3)Hank's Wife- who is a retired something or other. fills the yard with whirligigs, windchimes and makes Hank shovel gravel or sand or soil what seems like every other week. (which consequently runs into our yard making it look like a gravel pit) also oversees the mowing now being done by.....
4) Bobby- Hank's kid from his first marriage. The only one of the three still young enough to have to be forced to visit his pop every other Thursday and every other weekend. The boy when he is here, is only seen working, or on rare occassion, playing by himself in the yard.

Now that we have the cast down, I will tell you more about them in the future.

I sure ain't no artist

....but I try. This is Scrat from the Ice Age movies. I don't know why (maybe it's his buggy eyes) but I really like this little fella.

41406

Off work today, so why was I up at 3:30? Maybe falling asleep on the couch at 8 last night had something to do with it. Storms rolling through right now at 5 a.m., hope it dries out enought to mow later today. My poor yard is a disaster; I would love to fix it up, but it's not on my critical list of things to pay for. My dream is to get rid of the dead hot tub, demolish the deck and build a stone patio. I would also love to strip the stuff passing for a lawn, get about 12 loads of topsoil and regrade the yard. The sand pit where the pool used to be really needs to be dealt with, and I picture a lovely covered arbor, butterfly garden and veggie plot. (Sigh) that's what imaginations are for. Maybe this summer I'll finally paint the garage- I was going to do it when we moved in 10 years ago, but now that we have the new siding on the house, the garage looks worse than ever. I need to track down some new hinges for my garage doors. The house was built in the late 20's so hopefully I can find some original-looking hinges.
The reality.........we only get about a week around here when it's not too hot or too cold or raining. When I get home from work, I'm tired, and on my days off during the summer I'm either catching up on housework, or helping Holly at festivals. I don't have enough saved yet to hire someone to do it, and since the hubby fell off the roof and broke his heel a couple of years ago, he can't stand on a ladder for any length of time. Oh well, enough rambling for now, time to mop the kitchen......

I never knew

Today I got a letter at work from the Park Office. Inside was a little green sticker that I was instructed to put on my city ID. It states that in case of a state of emergency being declared by the mayor or police, I am allowed to be on the streets to travel. I am an "essential employee", meaning that my job is critical to the ongoing well-being of the citizens of my fair city. OMG what a hoot!! Since when is making sure the Parks and Conservatory have flowers a critical, essential function? Hell no, if there's a civil riot in this town, or an earthquake or whatever, I sure the blazes ain't risking my life and limb so some little ole plants can have water, no matter how essential those crazy folks in City Hall might think it is. Oh and it is also suggested to place a copy of this letter in my personal vehicle. I just never knew how critical my position was.....maybe this could work to my benefit next time contract negotiations come up.

I love Rock and Ro

ROSIE ROXIE

Happy Monday All!

walk a mile in my rubber boots

Well,yesterday it stopped raining in the morning long enough to get the yard cleaned up and mowed, and then it got to 80 degrees.
being the sweetheart that I am I called the girl who was working for me (she usually works at the Conservatory) to tell her I was bringing Rock an Ro up for a run. She said don't be upset because everything hasn't been watered yet. Now I need to ramble a bit here.....
The Conservatory has always been called the "Crown Jewel" of the Parks by our director, and while working there does have it's major drawback (mainly dealing with the public, which I am not fond of) it is really one of the easiest places to work as a florist. From 8-10 in the morning, you set up a soaker hose to water the rainforest stuff, use a high pressure nozzle to knock down the dead leaves the roll up the hoses and sweep up. They open at 10, so everything has to be done by then. The rest of the day should be spent (not always) doing fine pruning (a tree company comes in for the big stuff) or planning future shows.....which obviuosly ain't happening because I have no order lists for fall, winter or any of 2007, and they're supposed to be to me a year in advance. Every six weeks is a three week show change, which used to be 10 days until they whined they couldn't work that fast.
They have 3 florists (instead of 2 like us) 4 part-time laborers (we have none at the moment) as well as volunteers (we have 2, one 70 year old-bless his heart-who comes in for 6 hours on Wednesday...and one guy who comes in for an hour 4 days a week everday to deal strictly with orhids).
So what I am saying is these folks are a bit diva-ish and not used to running around like chickens with no heads, like Jo and myself.
Yesterday was hot and sunny, and not all of the nursery greenhouses have been shaded, so I know it was a bear for my replacement. Anyhoo, I got to work and the poor girl is so stressed, I just had to help her out (either that or we would have had a crapload of withered plants today). I facetiously asked if the Conservatory had called for replacement plants this morning and she said "yes, and I had to get those packed and ready by myself. I don't see how you and Jo do all this when there's only one person here twice a week." I just replied, that now you know why we don't run for the phone everytime it rings, and why we get ticked when people call right back instead of leaving a message (of which she is guilty). She promised from now on she will leave a message and be more patient. She also complained her feet were sweating and hurt from wearing rubber boots all day. I looked down, and she had my boots on....I had to state the obvious "How does it feel to walk in my boots?"
So today (Saturday) I know Jo and I are appreciated a heck of alot more than we were Thursday, and that's all right by me.

yup-it's Friday's blog

Well- that nap I took lasted all night, so consequently I did nothing on my birthday. I finally wound up going to Kroger and buying some steaks (which were delish of course). The night's long rest did me good, and this morning I am my usual peppy self-even if it is raining. Dang rain, I had the best intentions of cleaning up the yard today too. Guess I'll have to stay inside and play on the computer, shucks.

This blog has no title

Well, it was 45 years ago that my mom went through all of an hour of labor to give birth to an 11 pound baby girl. (I was the fifth one and the last. She once told me that Dad dropped her at maternity, went downstairs to get a cup of coffee and by the time he came back, I was here)

Having celebrated last night, on a rather empty night at the bar for karaoke, I have not done much today but recover. Had a great time making people who normally sing hard death rock perform such hits as "Puff the Magic Dragon" and the theme from Green Acres. As designated "birthday Princess" I was allowed to request whoever I wanted to sing what I wanted. All the other singers were good sports about it. Afterall I've had to sing some songs I'd prefer not to when it was their birthdays.

So here I sit, knowing I have to find something for dinner, but not feeling like going out or cooking. The thought of pizza delivered does not appeal to me. I wish Outback delivered, I want a steak, but the nearest place is 40 minutes away and it's raining. I don't know if I'll go out again tonight or not. I think I need a nap before deciding.

title?we don't need no steenkin title

Wow, time change already, man are the years flyin by. It always takes me a week to get adjusted to the morning light being different. I'm a morning person (which makes for a weird marriage since the old man is an up-all-night type) and I like my sun bright when I get up.
But I don't mind having another hour of light in the evening so I can get yard work done.....I don't really like yard work, 8 hours of plant -related work a day is plenty.
My yard looks like crap, but my neighbor's looks like Disneyland, complete with "keep off the grass" sign in the front yard. They have windchimes and whirlygigs and not one but two freakin gazebos, one on the deck and one in the yard (and we have small yards). My yard has weeds, dog crap and old dog toys all over it, but hey, who has more fun on their day off?
Hope Jan is having a great time in D.C. (I'm sure she is). I admire her and Bob, don't think I could carry on a long distance relationship nearly as well.
On a downer note, my much loved sis-in-law found out Friday that after 23 freakin years, the hospital she works at is "letting her go" in September. That just plain sucks. Only 7 years until she could retire and they do that to her. I don't know how she'll find another job doing what she does anywhere near here, not too many openings for immunohistologists in SW Ohio. I don't pray for much too often, but I'm praying for her. She has done so very much for the hubby and me, and she is my true best friend in the world.
The coffee machine beeps...........time to go