Brock - Trying to help

I have been waiting for my little four-legged fur child Brock to allow anyone other than me to pet him. He will be two on the 30th and has lived with me and my husband now for almost a year. He is the most loving baby, but only with me...he loves to cuddle and be brushed and lay his sweet little head on my lap and watch movies.

So now I am seeking advise on how to get him to interact with...lets just start with my husband who tries so lovingly to offer him a treat or a soft pat on the head but Brock runs the other way. He does this with my best friend Sherry as well, so it is not a male thing. He loves the other two fur children that live here and when I walk in after not seeing him for a few hours he is so excited to see me he is dancing in place and around and around and excited beyond words.

So I think that he can change and allow others to love him, I just need to find out what I can do to help him experience this love so many more than just me want to give to him, as his mom I have to keep trying and searching for the answer.

Trying to help

Man driving down road, woman driving up same road.They pass each other. Woman yells out the window, PIG! Man yells out window, BITCH! Man rounds next curve. Man crashes into a HUGE PIG in middle of road and dies.

Thought For the Day:
If men would just listen...

This was just an example of how ignorant men can be at times (as much as we love them) and no actual pig was harmed in this fictional story.

A soldier's view of Michael Jackson 's death

Okay, I need to rant.

I was just watching the news, and I caught part of a report on Michael Jackson . As we all know, Jackson died the other day. He was an entertainer who performed for decades. He made millions, he spent millions, and he did a lot of things that make him a villain to many people. I understand that his death would affect a lot of people, and I respect those people who mourn his death, but that isn't the point of my rant.

Why is it that when ONE man dies, the whole of America loses their minds with grief. When a man dies whose only contribution to the country was to ENTERTAIN people, the American people find the need to flock to a memorial in Hollywood , and even Congress sees the need to hold a "moment of silence" for his passing?

Am I missing something here? ONE man dies, and all of a sudden he's a freaking martyr because he entertained us for a few decades? What about all those SOLDIERS who have died to give us freedom? All those Soldiers who, knowing that they would be asked to fight in a war, & still raised their hands and swore to defend the Constitution and the United States of America . Where is their moment of silence? Where are the people flocking to their graves or memorials and mourning over them because they made the ultimate sacrifice? Why is it when a Soldier dies, there are more people saying "good riddance," and "thank God for IEDs?" When did this country become so calloused to the sacrifice of GOOD MEN and WOMEN, that they can arbitrarily blow off their deaths, and instead, throw themselves into mourning for a "Pop Icon?"

I think that if they are going to hold a moment of silence IN CONGRESS for Michael Jackson , they need to hold a moment of silence for every service member killed in Iraq and Afghanistan . They need to PUBLICLY recognize every life that has been lost so that the American people can live their callous little lives in the luxury and freedom that WE, those that are living and those that have gone on, have provided for them. But, wait, that would take too much time, because there have been so many willing to make that sacrifice. After all, we will never make millions of dollars. We will never star in movies, or write hit songs that the world will listen too. We only shed our blood, sweat and tears so that people can enjoy what they have.

Sorry if I have offended, but I needed to say it.

Remember these five words the next time you think of someone who is serving in the military;

"So that others may live..."

Isaac
A young man serving his third tour of duty in Iraq.

My thought now...No matter your thoughts or feelings on the war itself, you have to own up to the facts and the feelings of our militery men and woman, and I do think Congress needs to somehow publicly show respect for all our fallen men and woman as they did for MJ. God bless the troups, their families, and America!

Jasper and the unbaked yeast rolls

Received this via email and thought I would pass along.


It has been awhile since I first told this story and thought that many may have missed it so here it is again. For those that have seen it in my first posting, if you are like me....you can't help but read and laugh and laugh and laugh all over again. :)Those of you who have/had animals will probably appreciate it more. Enjoy

We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you, who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10 year old child about whom you know nothing and committing to doing your best to be a good parent.

Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss on me.

Lest you think this is a bad case of 'no discipline,' I should tell you that Perry and I tried every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost over $200. But I digress.

Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended family, and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time.

I was assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend.

I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole darn house that worked, thus the assignment.

I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wed evening to reheat Thurs am. Since the kitchen was freshly painted, you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for a few hours. Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. The rolls were ready to go in the oven.

It was 8:30 PM. When I went to the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated.

I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK, however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night.

God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick. Suffice it to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night.

We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dog out to relieve himself. Well, the dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he was walking his front half was going one direction and the other half was either dragging the grass or headed 90 degrees in another direction.

He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence.

His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk.

He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.

Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day.

My sister lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and I, we took off.

Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it.

Now he was beginning to fart and they smelled like baked rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip to Karen's, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.

Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunken dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something. Of course, as the old adage goes, 'what goes in must come out' and Jasper was no exception.< BR>
Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karen's house. Having discovered his 'packages' on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor.

This was another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor and the poop on the floor with stood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure.

We finally tried to remove it with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the darn dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor that had to be brushed, too.


Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house.

I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume. I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door.

It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them but decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad idea. Now, I'm doing research on the computer as to: 'How to clean unbaked dough from the carpet.'

Makes my story of when my three dogs ate my homemade Italian Rum Wedding Cake the night before our wedding...they were ill but not as bad as poor Jasper. I on the other hand had to stay up all night baking a new cake and Jasper's mom didn't have to remake the 12 rolls that were missing.

Human Interest Story – brings a tear…

It was toward the end of Sunday service and our Minister asked, “How many of you have forgiven your enemies?” Eighty percent held up their hands. The Minister then repeated his question, all responded this time except one very elderly lady.

“Bea? Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?" and she replied with a sweet smile “I don't have any.”

"Well Bea, that is certainly very unusual and should be commended, how old are you?”

“Ninety-eight.” she replied. Amazed the Minister said “Would you please come down in front and tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years and not have an enemy in the world?”

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said,“It's simple really, I just outlived the bitches.”

It's all in the name

Well today I am a bit excited and very anxious. I have a face book account and yesterday I was searching for my birthmother’s maiden name and I came across a woman in NY with the same last name. I wrote to her with a little information of myself and asked if we could be related. She replied with her family background and I am certain we are related! She is generation ahead of me, which is awesome, as she will have much wanted family history to share with me. I recognized many of the names she supplied, but was unable to unscramble the information in my mind and place everyone in the proper place. I look forward to exploring this new adventure and most importantly, making a new friend with whom I share so much. Wish me luck!!!

A friend for life

In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee, inspected the elephant’s foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it.

As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments.

Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.

Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenage son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, and then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder.

The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

Just a little humor to start the week off; no elephant was harmed in this story.

Sending Dogs to Prison



I think this is AWESOME, everyone is a winner in this program and many dogs that were wasting away in shelters just waiting for their number to be picked in the lottery of death are now saved and become a beloved and respected service animal for a forever grateful loving friend. How much better could it get for a shelter dog, I am happy with tears for this program and will be sending a donation. If you place prison dogs in Google search you can see many more heartwarming stories, pictures and videos.

To start a program, there must be a sincere focus in helping the lives of the inmates... and to really make a difference to help rehabilitate the inmates. To warehouse inmates, punish them and then throw them back out into the community does not rebuild damage lives but rather it builds more anger and disrespect to authorities.

For more information on how you can help,please e-mail the Prison Dog Project. srpauline@pathwaystohope.org The Dog programs that have allowed a personal approach are the programs that will succeed.

I hope that prison dog programs will base their programs on mutual respect and dignity... where love is the focus... more than control and intimidation because if you want people to return to society, focused on being better persons, then the ingredient of love needs to be included, rules to be followed but not to the point that a program would fold because an officer gave a hamburger to an inmate after speaking at a community school to children about the prison dog program. The DOC punished the officer for showing compassion to a prisoner. The 25 year veteran of the Department of Correction with an unblemished record was so hurt in being treated like that, that he quit the Department of Corrections and the Liberty Dog Program folded because the volunteers who were very supportive of this officer refused to carry on with a program that would treat their staff and the inmates the way this department of corrections did.

Downeast Correctional... Bucks Harbor, Maine

This is a program where inmates in prisons are training dogs to assist the disabled. The dogs are then placed with someone who needs a specially trained dog to assist them.

Also in other prison programs they raise future assistance dogs and guide dogs for the blind for existing training schools, thus cutting back the time that a disabled person must wait for a dog to assist them.

The third prison dog project is where inmates are taking unwanted dogs from animal shelters, then groom and train them to be good citizens. They are then placed back into the community as "paroled pets". This gives the dogs a second chance in life, exactly what the prisoners are wishing for in their own life.

The prison dog programs help the inmates learn how to become "other" centered, thus giving something back to society. The inmates learn needed skills in order to help them get jobs when they are released. They also learn responsibility, patience, tolerance, as well as being good trainers with kindness and love.

The Prison Dog Programs are developing in many prisons around the United States and other countries. It helps to bring a sense of calm in the institutional setting. The dogs are also a bridge between the inmates and the guards as well as with a disabled person to people in the community. When a disabled person in a wheel chair or a prisoner has a friendly dog by their side, people want to go up and greet them. The friendly dog then helps to break the tension.

One of the dogs ready for graduation from the York Correctional Institution in Niantic, Connecticut The dog is wearing a "Gentle Leader", like a horse halter... a gentle way to train. His Picture is up above....how cute!

Money will buy a pretty good dog, but it won't buy the wag of his tail.
~ Josh Billings ~

These prison dog programs are mostly developed without the help of state funds. Many supplies are needed to help other prison dog programs develop, as well as to help them continue on. We need donations and supplies to make this unique rehabilitation program a continued success.

Sending Dogs to Prison

To start a program, there must be a sincere focus in helping the lives of the inmates... and to really make a difference to help rehabilitate the inmates. To warehouse inmates, punish them and then throw them back out into the community does not rebuild damage lives but rather it builds more anger and disrespect to authorities.

For more information on how you can help,please e-mail the Prison Dog Project. srpauline@pathwaystohope.org The Dog programs that have allowed a personal approach are the programs that will succeed.

I hope that prison dog programs will base their programs on mutual respect and dignity... where love is the focus... more than control and intimidation because if you want people to return to society, focused on being better persons, then the ingredient of love needs to be included, rules to be followed but not to the point that a program would fold because an officer gave a hamburger to an inmate after speaking at a community school to children about the prison dog program. The DOC punished the officer for showing compassion to a prisoner. The 25 year veteran of the Department of Correction with an unblemished record was so hurt in being treated like that, that he quit the Department of Corrections and the Liberty Dog Program folded because the volunteers who were very supportive of this officer refused to carry on with a program that would treat their staff and the inmates the way this department of corrections did.

Downeast Correctional... Bucks Harbor, Maine
This is a program where inmates in prisons are training dogs to assist the disabled. The dogs are then placed with someone who needs a specially trained dog to assist them.

Also in other prison programs they raise future assistance dogs and guide dogs for the blind for existing training schools, thus cutting back the time that a disabled person must wait for a dog to assist them.

The third prison dog project is where inmates are taking unwanted dogs from animal shelters, then groom and train them to be good citizens. They are then placed back into the community as "paroled pets". This gives the dogs a second chance in life, exactly what the prisoners are wishing for in their own life.

The prison dog programs help the inmates learn how to become "other" centered, thus giving something back to society. The inmates learn needed skills in order to help them get jobs when they are released. They also learn responsibility, patience, tolerance, as well as being good trainers with kindness and love.

The Prison Dog Programs are developing in many prisons around the United States and other countries. It helps to bring a sense of calm in the institutional setting. The dogs are also a bridge between the inmates and the guards as well as with a disabled person to people in the community. When a disabled person in a wheel chair or a prisoner has a friendly dog by their side, people want to go up and greet them. The friendly dog then helps to break the tension.

One of the dogs ready for graduation from the York Correctional Institution in Niantic, Connecticut (picture above) The dog is wearing a "Gentle Leader", like a horse halter... a gentle way to train.

ConFido Prison Dog Program in Rome, Italy at the Ribibbia prison for women.
They are training Assistance dogs for the handicapped and saving unwanted dogs at the humane society. President is Sirio Paccino who is in the wheel chair, in the back is Massimo Perla who is the secretary general, Doctor Camilla De Lorenzi is next to him on the right and there are two trainers in the back row.

Money will buy a pretty good dog, but it won't buy the wag of his tail.
~ Josh Billings ~

These prison dog programs are mostly developed without the help of state funds. Many supplies are needed to help other prison dog programs develop, as well as to help them continue on.

We need donations and supplies to make this unique rehabilitation program a continued success.

I think this is AWESOME, everyone is a winner in this program and many dogs that were wasting away in shelters just waiting for their number to be picked in the lottery of death are now saved and become a beloved and respected service animal for a forever grateful loving friend. How much better could it get for a shelter dog, I am happy with tears for this program and will be sending a donation. If you place prison dogs in Google search you can see many more heartwarming stories, pictures and videos. 

Happy Day

Do you ever wonder what the day will bring as you lay in bed in the early hours of the morning just before the sun comes up and the day must begin? I try to envision my day before it actually happens; I try to think of a day filled with necessary work, and then friends, both two and four legged, and smiles and joy…it doesn’t necessary always work out to be a good one, but I do think that if I am in a positive mood prior to getting out of bed I have a very good chance of having a day filled with laughter and joy. You should try it sometime and let me know if it did indeed alter your mood for the day.

Dog tired

So today I am trying very hard to get done what needs to get done. My best friend and I made homemade pizza for my hubby and some friends last night and it was out of this world. Our favorite from last night’s line up was Shrimp Scampi Pizza. We have been making homemade pizza for the last month now once a week, it is fun, delicious, and a great way to spend time together.

I got to bed about 11:00pm and to be honest I was tired but I am still suffering from insomnia so I was up again at 2:00am and was up all night until 6:00am when I again was able to sleep for an hour. So now I am very tired and it is extremely hot outside, so I think I will just get the few small chores completed and then see if I can get a nap in so that I am fresh for when hubby gets home.

Today the picture I wish to share is one of how my mood is…hope everyone has a great day!

OMG!!!!

Huh, I guess this says it all without any more words from me.

Brock the helpful one

Today I want to show you my boy Brock’s talent. My husband, to whom Brock will still not go to, loves this one thing about him the most…you see Brock makes cleaning up his “messes” in the backyard very simple for me. He does not make a mess on the lawn at all and they are very easy to locate without stepping in them. The sun dries them out very quickly and thus also reduces the smell. So I am curious if anyone else has a pet that does the same for them?

Week-Old Puppy Flushed Down the Toilet

OMG!!! I was horrified when I read this headline, but all is well.



Week-Old Puppy Recovering After Being Flushed Down the Toilet
by Kristen Seymour Jun 16th 2009 2:00PM



Dyno, the cocker spaniel puppy, is recovering from a trip down the loo. Photo: YouTube.com

Four-year-old Daniel Blair thought he was being a good boy when he decided to give a week-old cocker spaniel puppy a bath. Unfortunately, the child tried to bathe the puppy in the toilet, and, when he pulled the chain, the tiny pup was flushed right down!

Sky News reports that neighbors were asked not to flush for fear of sending the pup out to the sewer while the fire brigade and RSPCA tried -- but were unable -- to rescue the puppy, which was trapped in a pipe 20 yards from the home.

Drain experts Dyno-Rod were called in for the rescue. They used specialist camera gear to locate the pooch, after which they were able to nudge the animal to a manhole cover so the firemen could grab him.

The puppy, now aptly name Dyno, is recovering, and little Daniel is "so, so sorry." But hey, he learned a lesson -- puppies go in the tub and poopies go in the loo.

Today is my Birthday!

Too much to try and catch everyone up on so I will just start with what is happening now; we are moved into the new house, all changes were made successfully and beautifully and everyone is very happy!

Today I have to take Brock, the dog that I rescued almost a year ago to the vet, doesn’t sound like a difficult task unless you have read previous blogs of mine. Brock has lived with hubby and me since August 2008 and he does not allow anyone to touch, pet, or get with five feet of him except me. He is a very loving dog and will play and give kisses and snuggle on the sofa…again only with me. I had advised my vet about Brock and they said to just bring him in and see what happens. That scares me, I am not so worried about them, it is Brock I don’t want to traumatize. I will update how it went tomorrow.

Today, my birthday, will be spent, other than the vet visit this afternoon, relaxing with the dogs and tending to the vegetable garden until the 90 degree heat hits and then inside to watch a movie with the AC on high!

PS: It has been over 2 months now that I quit smoking!

Chanel: World's Oldest Dog Is 21

Chanel, the world's oldest dog, celebrated her 21st birthday on Wednesday May 9th with a certificate from the Guinness Book of Records and a visit to a dog hotel and spa.

The dachshund, a rescue dog from Port Jefferson in New York, wore an orange sweater and red goggles as her owner, Denice Shaughnessy, accepted the award marking her longevity.

"Chanel is the Guinness world record holder for the oldest living dog," said Jamie Panas, a spokeswoman for Guinness.

The record authority reviewed a veterinarian's certificate, statements from four witnesses and photographs to verify Chanel's age, Panas explained. Chanel became the world's oldest dog following the death of Butch, the 28-year-old former record holder, in 2003.

Though visibly nervous and shaking at times, Chanel posed for photographers as she sat on a red mini-sofa. Shaughnessy said Chanel tires quickly, wears goggles for cataracts when she is in the sun, and booties to cushion a benign tumor on her hind leg.

"I just take good care of her," said Shaughnessy, 51, who cares for Chanel with her husband, Karl. "I treat her like a person."

Shaughnessy got her pet from a shelter when the dog was six weeks old. Although Chanel could run miles in her younger days, now she suffers from joint problems and spends most of her days at home.

(Reporting by Aarthi Sivaraman; editing by Patricia Reaney)

Growing up Italian

A "family" member had me read this after he returned from a trip to Flordia where he spent seven weeks in a town with his mother and a bunch of other Italian heratige people everywhere. He siad it was like being "at home". I read this and smiled, cried, and was once again remided of where I came from and it brought back so many wonderful memories in my family.I plan to print it on special paper and hang it in my hallway entrance at the new home.

Growing up Italian - "No one covers the fig tree"

I was well into adulthood before I realized that I was an American. Of course, I had been born in America and had lived here all my life, but somehow it never occurred to me that just being a citizen of America meant that I was as American. Americans were people who ate peanut butter and jelly on mushy white bread that came out of plastic bags. Me? I was Italian.

For me, as I am sure for most second generation Italian-American cildren who grew up in the 40's and 50's, there was a definite distinction to draw between Us and Them. We were Italians. Everybody else, the English, the French, the Irish, Germans, Poles, they were the "inglesi". There was no animosity involved in that distinction, no prejudice, no hard feelings, just... well... we were sure that ours was a better way. For instance, we had a bread man, a fruit and vegetable man, a chicken man; we even had a man who sharpened knives and scissors right outside our homes. They were part of the many peddlers who plied the Italian neighborhoods. We would wait for their call, their yell, their individual distinctive sounds. We knew them all and they knew us. The Americans... they went to the A&P for most of their foods... what a waste.

Truly, I pitied their loss. They never knew the pleasure of waking up every morning to find a hot, crisp loaf of Italian bread waiting behind the screen door. And instead of being able to climb up on the back of the peddler's truck a couple of times a week just to hitch a ride, most of my "inglesi" friends had to be satisfied by walking with their Mamas to the store.

When it came to food, it always amazed me that my friends and classmates only ate turkey on Thanksgiving Day or Christmas. Or rather, that they only ate turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. Now, we Italians, we also had turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce, but only after we had finished the antipasto, soup, lasagna, meatballs, salad and whatever else Mama thought might be appropriate for that particular holiday.

The turkey was usually accompanied by a roast of some kind (this was just in case somebody walked in who didn't like turkey) and it was followed by an assortment of fruits, nuts, pastries, cakes, and, of course, the homemade cookies sprinkled with little colored things. No holiday was complete without some home baking; non of that store-bought stuff for us. This was where you learned to eat a seven course meal between noon and 4 P.M; how to handle hot chestnuts and put peach wedges in red wine. My friends ate cornmeal mush. We did too, but only after Mama covered it with sauce, sausages and meatballs... we called it polenta... now it's a gourmet food...
Mama must have known it all the time.

I truly believe Italians live a romance with food. Sunday was the big day of the week. That was the day you'd wake up to the smell of garlic and onions frying in olive oil, as it dropped into the pan. Sunday we always had sauce and macaroni. Sunday would not be Sunday without going to Mass. Of course, you couldn't eat before Mass because you had to fast before receiving communion. But, the good part was that we knew when we got home we'd find hot meatballs frying, and nothing tasted better that newly fried meatballs and crisp bread dipped into a pot of hot sauce.

There was another difference between us and them. We had gardens, not just flower gardens, but huge gardens where we grew tomatoes, tomatoes, and more tomatoes. We ate them, cooked them, and jarred them. Of course, we also grew peppers, basil, lettuce and squash. Everybody had a grapevine and a fig tree, and in the fall everybody made homemade wine. Then, when the kegs were opened everyone argued over whose wine tasted the best. Those gardens thrived because we also had something that our Canadian friends didn't seem to have... we had grandparents. Of course, it's not that they didn't have grandparents; it's just that they didn't live in the same house or on the same block. Their presence wasn't that noticeable. We ate with our
grandparents, and God forbid if we didn't visit them at least 5 times a week. I can still remember my grandfather telling us about how he came to America as a young man, on the "boat". How the family lived in a tenement and took in boarders in order to make ends meet. How he decided that he didn't want his children, five sons and two daughters, to grow up in that environment. All of this, of course, in his own version of Italian/English which I learned to understand quite well.

So, when they saved enough money, and I never still can figure out how, they bought a house. That house served as the family headquarters for the next 40 years. I remember how they hated to leave the house for any reason. They would rather sit on the back porch and watch their garden grow. When they did leave for some special occasion, they had to return as quickly as possible... after all, "nobody is watching the house".

I also remember, the holidays when all the relatives would gather at my grandparents' house and there would be tables full of food and homemade wine. The women in the kitchen, the men in the living room, and the kids... kids everywhere. I must have a thousand cousins, first cousins and second and some friends who just became cousins, but it didn't matter. Then my grandfather, sitting in the middle of it all, his pipe in his mouth, his fine mustache trimmed, would smile and his dark eyes would twinkle as he surveyed his domain, proud of his family and how well his children had done. One was a cop, one was a fireman, the others had their trades, and of course there was always the rogue about whom nothing was said. The girls? They had all married well and had fine husbands, although my grandfather secretly seemed to suspect the one son-in-law who wasn't Italian. But out of all of this one thing that we all had for each other was respect.

He had achieved his goal in coming to America and to Brooklyn and now his children and their children were achieving the same goals that were available to them in this great country, because they were Americans.

This is incredable

I thought this was amazing, shows me how much I could do if I spent the time with training. The youngs ones are not yet two so there is still time and I hope to try. I may never get my dog to be a star in public, but it would be great bonding time.

The moving saga

Well it has been some since I have been able to post but I have made an effort to keep up with everyone’s blogs whenever possible.

We sold our “old” home and are set to move into the new one in two weeks! I am very excited and yet sad to be leaving a home that has been full of love and nurture for six years.

I have spent these last few, four maybe, picking out counter tops, paint colors, curio bathroom unit, kitchen cabinets, kitchen faucets, lighting fixtures (still have not found that foyer chandelier), new toilet seats, new towels for the now three bathrooms we have, and buying items such as a Shark floor cleaner and a Dyson vacuum to keep the new house clean.

The dogs have not had much of my time I must confess, the new fence at the new house does not go up until next week therefore they have had to stay at home during the day while I work, and then for a few extra hours in the evenings when I go to the new house and most of the day on the weekends. I miss spending down time and play time with them as much as they miss being with me. But in two weeks we will be all done with the renovations on our only eight year old home (LOL I had to change it to make it mine) and we will all be living and spending more time together.

One goal is to walk each night with the dogs, I most certainly need the exercise and they just love to walk with me and enjoy the new scents and surroundings of the outside. The other goal is to be sure as I finish, who am I kidding, to be sure when I pack I give much to Goodwill! Heaven knows I have not looked, nor missed, many items that are still in boxes from when we moved down here from RI in 2000.

Well, I must run to the new house and I promise to be back “full-time” in just a few shorts weeks.

As a side note, the picture on top is how I feel about all the packing I still have left to do!

Dear Dogs and Cats:

The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Racing me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort, however. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other, stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out on the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom! If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge in an attempt to open the door. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years - canine/feline attendance is not required.

The proper order for kissing is: Kiss me first, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough.

Finally, in fairness, dear pets, I have posted the following message on the front door:
TO ALL NON-PET OWNERS WHO VISIT AND LIKE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR PETS:


(1) They live here. You don't.

(2) If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That's why they call it 'fur'-niture.

(3) I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.

(4) To you, they are animals. To me, they are adopted sons/daughters who are short, hairy, walk on all fours and don't speak clearly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remember, dogs and cats are better than kids because they

(1) eat less,

(2) don't ask for money all the time,

(3) are easier to train,

(4) normally come when called,

(5) never ask to drive the car,

(6) don't hang out with drug-using people;

(7) don't smoke or drink,

(8) don't want to wear your clothes,

(9) don't have to buy the latest fashions,

(10) don't need a gazillion dollars for college and

(11) if they get pregnant, you can sell their children ..

This is too funny!

WOW! I wonder what school she went to and how in the world she made it past the second grade!!

10 Reasons Why It's Great to be a Dog

1.) If it itches, you can reach it. And no matter where it itches, no one will be offended if you scratch it in public.

2.) No one notices if you have hair growing in weird places as you get older.

3.) Personal hygiene is a blast: No one expects you to take a bath every day, and you don't even have to comb your own hair.

4.) Having a wet nose is considered a sign of good health.

5.) No one thinks less of you for passing gas. Some people might actually think you're cute.

6.) Who needs a big home entertainment system? A bone or an old shoe can entertain you for hours.

7.) You can spend hours just smelling stuff.

8.) No one ever expects you to pay for lunch or dinner. You never have to worry about table manners, and if you gain weight, it's someone else's fault.

9.) It doesn't take much to make you happy. You're always excited to see the same old people. All they have to do is leave the room for five minutes and come back.

10.) Every garbage can looks like a cold buffet to you.

A letter from my dog today...

How to wash a toilet...

This was simply too much of a time saver not to share it with you.






1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl.

2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.

3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close the lid.You may need
to stand on the lid.

4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises that come
from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.

5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a 'power-wash' and rinse'.

6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people
between the bathroom and the front door.

7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can and quickly lift the lid.

8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom,and run
outside where he will dry himself off.

9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.

Sincerely,

The Dog

Okay I Would NEVER do this to my 20 year old cat or any other cat..don't know what got into that dog???

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I always wondered how this “holiday” began, so I did some research, and to be honest now that I know how it all started I don’t think I will be celebrating this holiday any longer.

The birth of Valentine's Day began with the very ancient, Roman pastoral festival; Lupercalia, observed February 13 through February 15 to ward off evil spirits and cleanse the city, releasing health and fertility. Okay so far not bad, sounds okay and I’m still with it. The festival sported many of the noble youths of the magistrates running naked through the city for sport and laughter while girls and young woman purposely lined their route in hopes of getting lashed by whips or “thongs” made of the sacrificed goat and soaked in it’s blood as they believed it would ensure fertility and ease the pains of childbirth. Okay, gross. In order for these young men to obtain the thongs, the festival begins by sacrificing two male goats and a dog, no gender specified. A piece of the goats skin in cut from the carcass and the blood from the knife is wiped upon it and then soaked in milk before the running of city partakes. This went on until the fifth century, when the public performance of pagan rites was outlawed. Hurray for someone finally coming to their sense! Later a priest named Valentine came along. Valentine was a romantic at heart who for his belief in love disobeyed the mighty Emperor Claudius II. You see the Emperor wanted all his soldiers to remain bachelors so they would not be distracted by love (heaven forbid) and concentrate on fighting.Valentine,had other thoughts and he secretly performed marriage ceremonies for the soldiers. As a result of his defiance of the Emperor in his fight for love he was put to death on February 14th. And there you have it folks, how it all began. Oh there are a few more Roman stories in between and at the end the magical “Cupid” comes in to play, but for me the story ends here. It is hard to enjoy a day which started way way way back in 44 BC when many animals were sacrificed so we could get a box of chocolates and a few roses; I guess I will reflect on the story of Valentine, for he sacrificed his life for love…

A PET'S TEN COMMANDMENTS...

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.

3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.

7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.

8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative,ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.

9. Please take care of me when I grow old. You too,will grow old.

10. On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so. ALWAYS!

~Take a moment today to thank God for your pets.Enjoy and take good care of them. Life would be a much duller,less joyful experience without God's critters~

Dog in Need

A story like this makes me cringe, but at the same time warms my heart. Enjoy the story of Yugo found in yesterday's paper.

Pit bull mix found severely burned in E. Providence 1-27-09: Tatiana Pina


EAST PROVIDENCE -- In the end it was Yugo's wagging tail that saved him.

A woman found the American Bulldog-pit bull mix sitting on the side of the Henderson Expressway Tuesday near the on-ramp to Providence.

The brown and white dog's front legs were burned so severely he could barely stand. He had another burn on his right ear. The woman used her handkerchief to place under the 80-pound dog so she could lift him into her car because he couldn't move much. She brought him to East Providence Animal Control Center. Workers took him to to the East Bay Animal Hospital in Seekonk so veterinarians could treat him.
William Muggle, animal control supervisor at the East Providence Animal Control Center, said the burns were about two weeks old and so severe that veterinarians considered whether they should put the dog to sleep. But Yugo had a great disposition and wagged his tail a lot.

"The dog had a great disposition even with the severity of his wounds. I was picking him up to walk him up the stairs of the ER and he wagged his tail and he didn't growl. Had he been an iffy dog, there would have been a question about the amount of money that is needed" to heal him and then try to get him adopted, he said.
Workers at the animal control center named him Yugo, after the Yugo automobile built in Yugoslavia in the 1980's for his compact size.

Muggle said Yugo's care will cost in the hundreds. He said workers at the animal control center raised more than $100 for his care and so did some of the other animal advocacy agencies. The animal control center is looking for donations for Yugo's care.

The agency is also looking for any information about the possible owner of the dog. The owner did nothing about Yugo's wounds, Muggle said. He was also malnourished. When he came out of the anesthesia after the veterinarians treated his wounds, he ate two cans of dog food. He is about five years old.
Muggle said the veterinarian could not determine whether the burns came from a chemical or hot water, but it did not appear that the dog had stepped in the liquid because his paws were not burned.

Anyone who had information regarding the dog or wishes to make a donation should call the animal control center at 435-7675.
(Photo courtesy of East Providence Animal Control Center)

Lying

You know right now I am so upset with something that happened today that I could just scream, and yes it involves someone telling a lie about me to a supervisor! Today I was asked why I had changed something, and I said I didn’t, and for real, I did not change what they were asking me about. Long story short, she said then why is more than one person telling me you did? Hello, first off I would not ask for the change you are implying I made as it would make my job all the more harder, but yet she said, “I am not trying to pick on you, but….” Ugh!!!!

So why is it that people tell lies just to save their own butt? I am not above a white lie, you know the kind you tell when you are asked something from a friend like, “don’t you just love this new recipe I tried?” I may have hated it but they worked hard, so I would say, well I would not consider it my favorite meal, but it is not bad. I am not going to come right out and say it sucks!

But that kind of “white” lie is so different than what happened to me today, and I am not a liar, never have been and never will be. I own up to my mistakes, and admit when I am wrong, and don’t fabricate stories. But there are some that spend their whole lives, telling lies, living lies, and forever wrapped up in the lies they tell over and over again.

The good thing is I will get this lie removed from my name by tomorrow when the supplier comes back in an email stating why the change was made, and it was not by me! So if you are one that lies to save your own butt, you are wrong, and you hurt a lot of people and their reputation, so get over yourself, get the story right, and own up to your own mistakes and don’t drag honest people down with you.

That is all I have to say tonight, except time to unwind with a glass of wine, make dinner, and forget this work day so I can spend a nice quiet evening with my hubby.

If dogs were teachers...

...you would learn stuff like.....

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

When it's in your best interest, practice obedience.
Let others know when they've invaded your territory.

Take naps. Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout... run right back and make friends.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle gently.

And finally, never trust anyone until you sniff his butt.

Okay, this last one is a bit hard for me to follow, so I think I will alter it by looking into the person's eyes to see if there is kindness or something I don't like or trust.

Amazing Dog!

A co-worker told me of this story and of course I was like, no way, you’re making that up…so I searched on the internet and sure enough it is a true story! This dog is amazing.

WASHINGTON (Reuters) -- In an amazing story of canine survival California-style, a dog named Dosha has shown she has nearly as many lives as the average cat.

Dosha was hit by a car near her owner's Clearwater, California, home on April 15. Next, a police officer shot her in the head to put her out of her misery. Then, presumed dead, she was put in a freezer at an animal control center.
Two hours later, when a veterinarian opened the door to the freezer, she was shocked to find Dosha, a 10-month-old of mixed-breeding, standing upright in a plastic orange bag -- the equivalent of a human body bag.

Appearing on national television Wednesday, Dosha seemed in fine spirits apart from a gunshot wound to her head and other injuries sustained from being hit by the car.
"When she first came in we called her miracle girl because we couldn't believe what she had gone through and was still with us," said veterinarian Deborah Sally on NBC's "Today" show.

"She's doing amazingly well," added Sally, who said the dog had suffered from hypothermia after being put in the fridge.
This was the only information I could find other than the dog made a full recovery! Hurray for Dosha.

Recall on Peatnut Butter...oh no!

With the recent recall on peanut butter I began to think about the dog treats I give my three dogs and thought that after the massive food recall last year, in which a few harmless sweet babies lost their lives, I was going to begin making only home made dog biscuits from now on. These three “babies” of mine are so much a part of my life, and they want their treats, so they will now get lovin' biscuits from my oven.

Here are a couple recipies I have tried and the dogs just love them!

Everyday Biscuits

2 teaspoons dry yeast
1/2 cup lukewarm water
2 tablespoons dry parsley
2 tablespoons minced garlic 1 1/2 cups chicken broth
3 tablespoons honey
1 egg
5-6 cups whole wheat flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, dissolve yeast into warm water. Stir in the parsley, garlic, broth, honey, and egg. Gradually blend in flour, adding enough to form stiff dough.

Transfer to a floured surface and knead until smooth (about 3-5 minutes). Shape the dough into a ball, and roll to 1/4-inch thick. Using small bone-shaped cookie cutters, make biscuits! Transfer to un-greased baking sheets, spacing them about 1/4 inch apart. Gather up the scraps, roll out again, and cut additional biscuits.

Bake for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and turn over. Bake for an additional 15 minutes, or until lightly browned on both sides. Let cool overnight.

Buddy Boy Dog Biscuits

1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 cup nonfat dry milk powder
1/2 cup oats, rolled (raw) – quick cooking
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
1 teaspoon sugar
Cut in 1/3 cup shortening until mix is coarse crumbs. Stir in 1 egg. Dissolve 1 tablespoon instant chicken or beef bouillon granules in 1/2 cup water. Stir liquid into flour mix with a fork. Form dough into a ball and knead on floured board for 5 minutes. Divide ball in half and roll each portion until ½ inch thick
Use a cookie cutter or shape biscuits. Put 6 on a plate and microwave at medium for 5 to 10 minutes or until firm and dry to touch. Turn biscuits over after ½ cooking time.

Snickerpoodles

1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup honey
2 eggs
3 ¾ cups white flour
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ cup cornmeal
2 teaspoons cinnamon

Mix vegetable oil, shortening, and honey with eggs. Beat well. Add flour, soda and cream of tartar to honey mixture. Knead dough until mixed well. Shape dough by rounded teaspoons into balls. Mix the cornmeal and cinnamon together in a bowl and roll balls in mixture. Place 2 inches apart on a greased cookie sheet. Press the balls down with a fork and bake for 8-10 minutes at 400 degrees. Cool on a rack and then store in an airtight container.

TIP: After finishing baking all batches of biscuits, turn off the oven, then spread all the biscuits out on one baking sheet and set them in the oven to cool overnight. The extra time in the oven as it cools off helps make the treats crispier and crunchier.

(All recipes compiled from Bullwrinkle.com)

My Otis

I have been watching my oldest dog Otis over the last few weeks more closely, and he has become more of a mama’s boy then ever. I think it is the fact that after Sandy died a year ago October, whom was here before him, he had his time to grieve as I did, and then time alone with mommy and then Marley came. It was about 6 months after Marley arrived that Marley’s brother arrived, all shy and looking so pitiful and lonely. So yes, Marley was a new pup that I held on my chest every night and snuggled with, Brock took some time to come around to me but if I had not spent some time alone with him he may still be shy, so poor Otis whom I love to death is feeling a bit left out.

He is so gentle and funny and the most devoted dog I have been adopted by. When we are outside he is either doing his business or right at my side. At times he will go and get his ball to play and we stay out for sometime just throwing the ball and I watching as he runs the yard playing keep away.

When it is time to go in I will call them all and say, “Inside.” The other two will run like the wind or as if there is a big juicy steak inside waiting for them, but Otis, no way, he stands beside me until I take my first step towards the door and then he will begin his decent inside. If I stop, even just get two steps behind him, he stops as well and looks back to see what happened to me.

What a comfort to know that when life gets me down and I have a bad day, my Otis is right there to lick my face, give me a shake, and kiss my cheek as if to say, “it’s okay mommy, you are home now with me and I love you, so please smile for me.” How could I not when he is staring at me with his big brown eyes and goofy grin.

The weekend

Wow what a week, seem like it took double the time for Saturday to get around again. It is strange and sad really that when we get older how much we wish our life away longing for the days to fly by so the weekend is back. Although I partied quite a bit in my younger years I never remember dreading the work week and wishing it was the weekend; do you think it is because when we are younger we are more happy and free; that we made the most of everyday and the weekend was just a bonus? I also think I has to do with having less stress and commitments back then, it was a time when work was not just an essential (still had to pay the rent and eat) but it was more fun. I choose positions that I liked more than I needed and most everyone was my friend, someone I hung out with on the weekends so it was no big deal to be working during the week as I was still with my “buddies”.

Also those first jobs were not as, dare I say, final. They were positions I was working in to work my way up the corporate ladder, so most were fun and exciting because they were new and offered challenges. Now that I am in the position I worked so hard all my life to get, it feels like there is nothing to look forward to and the excitement has run out. It has lost the appeal of a new beginning, a way to feel important, a challenge to make it to the top; it suddenly becomes a job. I place I must go everyday, knowing it will provide a paycheck to cover the commitments such as food, shelter, and transportation. The thrill has gone and in this current economy crisis I should be grateful just to have a good job, so I work harder, stress more, and pray the downsizing doesn’t effect my position. But somewhere in the back of my mind I long for the old days, when if you were young and new to the position you got plenty of praises from management, possibly a raise every six months, you were full of energy and the “let’s go get um” attitude that was your fuel to the top.

So here I sit as close to the top as I want to be, and although I don’t feel the thrill anymore, or have the energy as I once did, I am competent and content, get very few compliments or praises from my superior, but do my work as best I can every day…and oh yea, I am always patiently waiting for the weekend to arrive.

Age verses Youth - Enjoy the story

One day the old German Shepherd starts chasing rabbits and before long, discovers that he's lost. Wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the intention of having lunch.


The old German Shepherd thinks, 'Oh, oh! I'm in deep doo-doo now!' Noticing some bones on the ground close by, he immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old German Shepherd exclaims loudly, 'Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder, if there are any more around here?'


Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. 'Whew!' says the leopard, 'That was close! That old German Shepherd nearly had me!'


Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So, off he goes, but the old German Shepherd sees him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up.


The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.


The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, 'Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!


Now, the old German Shepherd sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, 'What am I going to do now?', but instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old German Shepherd says...
'Where's that monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!


Moral of this story...

Don't mess with the old dogs... age and skill will always overcome youth and treachery! BS and brilliance only come with age and experience.

Get Packing!

Hello everyone, I know I have been gone for about a week but I have been busy buying a new home! Yes, we made the plunge and our offer was accepted on Wednesday and we signed paperwork yesterday. Now the huge black cloud over our heads is getting our current home sold. I just needed to be close to family and I did not want to risk losing the new house, so we bought before we sold. Things here are not as bad as some parts of the country, so I think we will be okay.

1st. order of business at the new home (we close 2-12) will be to put up a fence for the three dogs. They have had run of our current home in the back yard and with Brock still so shy it is critical this is done immediately.

So Now with my back pain reemerging daily and getting worse by the week, I have to keep this current house impeccable for showings and pack and entire three bedroom home. Hubby will of course be helping, but we all know it is the woman of the house that packs and unpacks the man moves it all.

So off I go to do some cleaning and please wish us luck in selling our current home quickly!

New Home?

You will have to read yesterday’s post to know completely what I am talking about; I was talking to hubby on his way home from work last night and I told him I had been cleaning house all day and he said, “why are you moving?” and I jokingly said “yes.” Then he took me by surprise and he started talking about the new house and what we need to do to get out of the old one and into the new one. OMG decision has been made in less than 24 hours! Ralph is coming over tomorrow and we will draw up the contract for the offer on the new home with a contingency that we sell our current home.

I am so excited! I will be cleaning out closets and cupboards for the next couple days but it will be worth all my time and effort; we are hopeful to be moving across the street from family in the very near future. Now that is a real Happy New Year for all of us.

Home

Hubby and I moved from the Northeast back in 2000 to SC; we had the home we are living in now built four years ago, since then we have added a sunroom and many other extras including landscaping, lots of landscaping. The yard has a privacy fence for the three “kids” and we have three bedrooms on one floor for just the kids and us and we always get compliments on how lovely our home is, and it is lovely...so why then am I looking at other homes for sale?

Well, hubby and I are both from divorces and what little family we have left are up North and one lives here near by, but we don’t see her much anymore, we love her, but she has become a lady of her home. Okay so in 2001 hubby met this great Italian family and ever since we have been included in all family matters, birthdays, holidays, picnics, weddings, you name it and we are there…their children even call us Uncle Snoopy and Aunt C. having them has changed our lives in many ways, in some ways it depresses hubby since his daughters hardly speak to him since the divorce (parent alienation) and yet when the middle one here (from our adopted family) called him from her new cell phone a week ago hubby was grinning from ear to ear and left the conversation with I love you. About brought tears to my eyes, he is a wonderful man, husband, and father, and yet we had two miscarriages so we are together childless.

There is a home for sale across the street from part of this amazing family and I truly love the home and as they say location, location, location. How much better could it be, family across the street! Three loving children, my two best friends (one being the mom of these great kids and the other their “true” aunt who lives in an apartment downstairs in their home), and the man of the house is great as well and he and Lennie get along so well. Okay so the housing market is not so good right now, so selling our home might be a challenge, but as it turns out the man of the house where I am considering moving is in real estate.

Hubby has done so much with our current home, and it does have features we like a lot, hubby’s garage is a shrine to our two corvettes, the sunroom is great when it is raining outside as the dogs come in the sunroom get cleaned up and then come in the house, so why can’t we have this at the new home and have the family as well? The new home not only would we be close to family it is even closer to both our jobs! I come home each day at lunch to let the "kids" out, but I would have someone that could do this for me a couple days a week and save me running back and forth which in turns saves on gas as well.

I guess that is the question of the day...move or stay? Can we move? Will our home sell for what we need it to sell at in time to purchase the other home? So much to think about and yet little time to think...as someone might grab that house in the meantime. I guess we will see what happens and if hubby is still talking about it this weekend. I LOVE the idea of being so close to family and I am sure that although I was happy in my current home when I went out to “family’s” home for New Year’s dinner and then walked across the street and saw the beautiful home for sale...now I have desires to move and yet I am afraid if it sells I will may fall back into depression. Crazy way to start the New Year, but I being Italian miss dearly the days when I was a child at my grandparents house in the Catskills and twenty people sat down to Sunday dinner each week....to have that again is like a miracle and a dream come true.

Today is New Year’s Eve

Today is New Year’s Eve, the eve of new beginnings and the day we make our resolutions for the glorious New Year about to unfold. We are supposed to pack away all the ugly and forgettable experiences of the past year and make promises to ourselves of greater things to be; a new wiped clean slate in which we commence the incoming year with promise and hope.

The gym memberships rise this time of year as does I am sure the sales of natural vitamins and many are stocking their refrigerators with healthy and organic foods as they prepare for the new “you”. Lists are composed detailing the outline of their changed behavior, quit smoking, lose weight, eat healthy, finish projects already began months ago or maybe even start a new one. Clean the closet in your bedroom, de-clutter the curio cabinet, train the dog to do tricks, we all have something on our lists that is either telling us to stop something or to start something.

I have not made such a list this year, I am okay with my life; oh sure I do need to lose a few pounds (okay more like a few in the 10 pound range), I should quit smoking, and I do need to clean my closet, but why do I need to say it has to happen tomorrow morning? Isn’t that just setting myself up for failure? Telling the whole world I have finally, once and for all, made the decision to do what I have been unable to do now for years. As if something magical happens at midnight and just like that my mind is overflowing with only high expectations and goal orientated good, I can tell you right now, it won’t happen.

Oh I know I will eventually clean out the closet, lose a few pounds, and hopefully quit smoking without gaining another twenty pounds, but I will do this on my time, not the world clock and I will not be at the gym tomorrow morning in my spandex on a treadmill fooling myself into believing that because the date has changed I have also changed.

I am forever evolving and changing, we all are to some degree, but for tonight I will share some time with friends, kiss hubby at midnight, and go to sleep knowing I am a good human with kindness in my heart and hopeful dreams that someday I will ultimately reach all my goals, but not in one day with the world watching.

Happy New Year everyone, and please, go easy on yourselves and be safe.

Great News!

Great News today! We are keeping our baby Brock! We had adopted his brother Marley a year ago this month and then I found out that his brother Brock, one of nine in a littler that was found in a storm drain was still at the shelter in July and he had just turned one year old. I felt so bad for the little guy and I was out on medical leave at the time so I told the woman that runs the home non-profit no-kill shelter to bring him over to our home and I would foster him and work with him so he too could find a forever home.

After being here for four months now, I of course fell in love with this little angel, he is the sweetest dog, (okay if you read my blog yesterday you know he was on of the culprits that scratched my new leather sofa) when I say sweet, I mean he does not have a mean bone in his body, he is adorable through and through.

He still however will not let anyone else near him, and that goes for hubby as well. Four months later and I am the only one that can touch and pet him, bath and brush him, and dry his feet when he comes in from the rain, and he rewards me with kisses and a smile. Well I was told he was shy when he was brought here in August...but never expected him to still be this way four months later.

Well, as it happened, I received an email yesterday that Lori had an inquiry of Brock and she wanted to see if we were keeping him or if she should call the family and set up an appointment. This brought tears to my eyes to be quite honest; I never thought about having to give him up, I was his mommy. Hubby said, “Well you did say you were just fostering him, and you do have two other dogs.” He was right of course. So I wrote back to Lori stating that he was still shy and only would come to me, explained how much I loved him and so on but I was just the foster mom so she could call the other family and set up an appointment for them to visit Brock.

Well she wrote back today that since we love him and he is in a great home she would love for us to keep him and she is even waving the adoption charge!! She wants Brock to stay because it would be horrible for him with his shyness and his obvious love for me to make him switch to a strange home and new people, (my thoughts exactly). So I just printed out the contract and just have to sign and return to her and Brock is my new forever dog! Talk about the greatest Christmas present, last year Marley, this year his brother. I can see a great and Happy New Year approaching.

The Scratching Post

Well good morning to all, it is not however a good morning for me, but I proceed onward. Hubby and I went out for a few hours yesterday and when we came home the house looked just fine, a bit cluttered and dusty but that is my job to fix, nothing the dogs did. Anyhow as my foot is still in terrible pain, still only when I lay down but needless to say makes me quite tired, hubby was doing the vacuuming for me. When he got to the den I thought that he was looking at a couch in fifty pieces by his scream and the next ten sentences that came out of his mouth that I will not repeat here. It appears as if the two young ones, or maybe just Marley, used the new leather sofa as a scratching post. The seats are not ripped, but seriously scratched, one area worse than all the rest, it looks horrible to say the least.

Hubby finally clamed down and I used leather cleaner wipes to try and “fix” the hundreds of scratches on the seats, it helped only a little. Now, when we purchased the leather set the sales lady said if we bought the “insurance” it would cover anything and everything including cigarette burns, stains, tears…so this must be covered right? After reading on line some of the reviews of this insurance company, I am not sure anymore. One particular mans review said because it does cover burns, and he being extremely upset with them at the moment as they denied his claim, he was going to take the piece he has up to their office and set it on fire!

They are closed until Monday so I must sit and ponder what to do if it is not covered. Hubby explained again to me why the dogs need to be in crates when we are out and why some dogs live outside. My dogs will never live outside, they are my “children” and right now they are very bad children. One problem is the crate that Brock came with from the shelter is too small for him and quite small for Marley as well. The one I got for Marley is a very nice one that either dog can use, but not both at the same time. This is where it gets tricky again; hubby hates to spend money on “expensive” things for the dogs, especially after what they did to his new couch, but somehow I have to find a way to get his “blessing” to spend over a hundred on a new crate for Brock, there really is no other option if they are both to go back to crates while we are out.

Okay off that for now…my foot is still the same as yesterday, I am in so much pain right now as I just got up that typing is difficult, but what else can I do to take my mind off it while I await the pain medication to begin its magic? I called both doctors offices and they are closed until Monday and it just happens I already have an appointment with my rheumatologist on Monday anyhow. Yesterday the lower back/hip area was giving me some pain as well, but nothing compared to the burning torture I feel in my foot. I just have to keep sane from the pain until Monday…how often does anyone wish for Monday to hurry up and get here, well this lady is screaming for Monday!

Well, time to go outside and let the dogs run and drink a hot cup of caffeine as hubby sleeps peacefully in bed…and then I will come in and look at crates on line for the local pet store in town and see what is available for in store pickup today. Have a wonderful Saturday everyone…

Night Pain

I hope everyone had a very happy and wonderful Christmas, I had a great day. I have no biological family here in SC but hubby and I made friends with a large Italian family from New Jersey about 8 years ago when we first moved here and they immediately “adopted” us. We celebrate every holiday, the children’s birthdays, and just “family” backyard get-togethers with them; I even have 6 beautiful nieces as they call me Aunt CC. It is a comfort to know, and important to “feel”, that I do have “family” here and makes not just the holidays, but everyday, more pleasant.

For almost a week now each time I lay down in the recliner while watching TV or to go to bed, I begin to get this severe unbearable pain in the left side of my right foot and my heel. I thought for sure it was just some crazy thing and it would go away, but it has been since Sunday night. I did nothing to cause this pain I am in, meaning I have had no recent injury. The strange part is as soon as I get out of bed, although limping and dragging this foot behind me as I walk outside with the dogs for their morning pee, after about an hour and a half my foot is perfectly fine. No pain, even while I have high heels or any other shoe on.

After not sleeping for five nights I found a left over Oxycodine from when I was having my bad back pain and was out of work for five months, do you know I STILL felt the pain and was up until after 2:00 this morning and it is not yet 6:00am here now. I am going to try and get in to see my family doctor today, although I hold out little hope she will be able to detect what is the cause, I just need to get something that will combat what is the most severe pain I have ever felt! I am sure without pain medication until they can get it fixed, another week in such pain and lack of sleep I will go mad. I am scared what I might do if I am dog tired and have this pain in the middle of the night and just want to once and for all end the pain. I know I would not harm myself on purpose, but I am in such excruciating pain at night and I am just so very tired I am not thinking clearly. I will write update if I get in to see doctor later today.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Once there was an elf named Frez that would get so nervous during Christmas time that he would eat two lunches at the elf cafeteria. He tried to be just too perfect in toymaking and never thought they were good enough for the children. The dolls’ eyes never sparkled enough, thought Frez, and the wagons were not as shinny as last year. Nothing seemed to be going right and the time for delivery of the presents was getting closer.

It was beyond anybody’s understanding why Frez was getting so particular and asking for an elf suit larger than his size. Then, one day Santa found out what the problem was and decided to solve it. It seemed that Frez was not a young elf, but elves never looked their age by the virtue of being ever cheerful and happy. Frez needed to feel he was special, so Santa assigned him his own project called “special toys.” These were the toys that were broken and needed to be repaired with love. Frez was so glad to be in charge of such a project that he had only one lunch that day because he had to hurry back to his tasks.

There is a lesson to be learnt from what Santa did for the elf. Sometimes we have off days when we just don’t feel positive. Someone’s smile or invitation to join some friends can make our whole day worthwhile.

Frez is now content with assembling the broken toys and transform them into something new, and he has stopped being a voracious eater that he once used to be because he is happy. He even wears his old suit now, and his new suit is taken in for his smaller waist.

It’s wise for us to try and do something worthwhile everyday so that a “Frez Attack” will never get us. We all have special talents and potentials and we can definitely help someone out if he is feeling a bit low. It takes only a few seconds to be able to know why someone is not feeling happy. Take out that time from your usual day and listen. Most importantly, we are here to help each other and all of us have that hidden talent to do it. Start to make use of that talent today...especially today.

A very Merry Christmas to all!

Santa and the Angel

One Christmas, a long time ago, Santa Claus was getting ready for his annual trip; but there were problems …… everywhere.

Four of his elves were away sick and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones. So, Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.

Then, Mrs. Claus popped in to tell Santa that her mother was coming to stay for Christmas; which stressed him even more.

After a while, he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and run away, heaven knows where to.

Then, when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards broke and several large toy-bags fell to the ground, scattering their contents all over the place. Needless to say, Santa was not in the best of moods.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and he went to the door expecting another problem. But when he opened it, there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree that she had brought especially to cheer him up.

The angel greeted him very cheerfully, “Merry Christmas Santa Claus. Isn’t it just a wonderful day? I have a beautiful tree for you. See, isn’t it just the loveliest Christmas tree you’ve ever seen? Where would you like me to put it?”

Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree!


Credit:richardpettinger.com