Most fun for a dollar ever!

You can get these at Dollar Tree...but hurry they go fast.  There's also a bumble bee, a butterfly, and a few other type of flowers I believe.  Doesn't take much light for them to dance, today is pretty overcast &  they are going crazy.

Hats!!!

So, back in August, I was looking for some easy projects to do on vacation. I started with this baby hat. Then I needed something to do with the hat and found this project:

These hats went to Colorado for Keep a Kid Warm. You'll notice the original hat center front row of this picture. Then I got to thinking...It's cold in Colorado & the kids there probably really need hats, but it gets chilly here to & there are probably some kids who could use some hats. So...

Here is the first group of hats completed for local kids. I will probably donate these hats to CPS for distribution...they know where to find the kids who will need them. I'm making hats for infants up through teen.

Here's the second group of hats I've finished. I've actually got 17 & 1/4 finished, but only pictures of the first 14. When I get the next 6 finished & have 20 I'll take another picture. At 20 hats I'll get hold of CPS about delivering them & see if there would be a need for more. Some of these patterns make up really quick, some of the yarn has been bought for $1 a skein, the rest bought w/40-50% off coupons from JoAnns, so it's not been expensive to make them.

Anyone want to join me in making some hats for kids...it doesn't have to be around here in Coos County, there's likely a need anywhere you live.

Meet Joker!

Joker-a very good dog waiting for his home
Joker is a sweet boy who is currently at the Coos County Animal Shelter. He's been there since the end of April. People walk right by him all the time because he's a big, black, pitbull. But, he's so much more than that. He gets along well with most other dogs, will chase cats if they run from him, but otherwise is fine with them, loves people and most especially kids! He is neutered, about a year old, has pretty good leash manners, and knows most basic commands. I'm sharing a link to a video of him playing fetch w/my 11yr old daughter Riley. He really is this good, and this was right after we took him out of his kennel to the play yard...and trust me, I don't trust my kids around just anyone, but I'd trust Joker with them w/out hesitation:

http://youtu.be/lA9p6Vv9GME

Mascot of the Day!

So, on July 26th, I entere Clarice inthe Mascot of the Day contest at the Animal Rescue Site. Today, she is the Mascot of the Day!!!! You can check it out yourself & vote for the Coos County Animal Shelter in the Shelter Challenge by clicking on this link:

http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=3&ThirdPartyClicks=ERA_073111_ARS_Html

Hawaii

So, I've wanted to go to Hawaii for as long as I can remember. We were supposed to go for our 10th wedding anniversary, but I was 11 days away from giving birth to Riley, so we obviously didn't go. Now, I'm pretty sure that Gregg never intended that we go, or at least that he would go. We've been together for 26 years, he KNOWS how bad I want to go, he doesn't want to go.

I've threatened to go without him before and he's been fine with it, and I've come to the conclusion that he really isn't going to go with me, so I've started planning the trip without him. I've checked out airfares, hotel rates, food, souveniers...I've got a pretty good idea now how much money I need to save.

Now, comes the savings part. I'm going to open my own, separate savings account. Every payday $50 or so will go into the account, also all my overtime. Will probably take me a couple of years to save it up, some of the prices might go up, some might go down. I have a hunch they'll stay pretty close to the same and I'm saving the high end of the estimate just to be on the safe side.

Don't worry, I'll take lots of pictures when I get there.

Our Cats

Cookie, aka Cookie Monster, is the oldest now. He's about 9. My grandfather had a soft spot for cats and adopted his mother, who was pregnant at the time and gifted him with four kittens. When the kittens were about 4 wks old, Grandpa went in to have colon surgery. It was routine and when the kittens were about 5 wks old Grandpa came home. I had been visiting him while he was in the hospital, and came to visit him at home. All the great-grandkids were outside playing with the kittens and I could tell he wanted to see them. I brought in little Cookie-not named yet-and that little guy snuggled on Grandpa's lap for the next hour. It is the last memory I have of my Grandpa happy. He was back in the hospital that night and never came home. When I was asked if there was anything of my Grandpa's that I would like I asked for his pocket knife and his kitten...best inheritance I've ever gotten.

Tatiana, better known as Tottie, was from the feral cat colony that lives on my parent's street. She was caught by my mother when she was about 3-4 months old, because my mom knew that I wanted her. For the first week she lived at our house, she wouldn't leave the kennel she was transported in. She was totally feral and it was the first time she'd ever been in a house. Now, she runs the joint. She has the calico attitude, but with me, she's my snuggle kitty. Her favorite place to sleep is mine & Gregg's bed, and she's trained us that she needs a can of cat food first thing in the morning. She loves the Dachsunds, tolerates Cookie & Simon, and is adjusting to Clarice. Now if I could just convince her to stay out of Gregg's shop & off his cars...

Simon showed up at our house sometime after Halloween. At first, he was just the white streak running off the porch. Eventually, we figured out he had orange ears & tail. My son, Doug, set out to catch him. It took a couple of months, but Simon would come stand next to Doug & as long as Doug didn't try to pick him up, would stay there. Finally, the kids cornered him in the shop, and caught him. Doug believed he was a girl, and so he was named Sophia. Once caught, this little kitty became our most affectionate kitty ever! One day, while loving on me while I was sitting in my chair, he turned around & stuck his butt in my face, like cats will do. "Hmmm, testicles, that's awkward" was my comment at the time & Sophia became Simon. Simon these days will go outside, but once he realizes he's out there wants right back in, right now. He also loves everyone, but Doug is still his absolute & obvious favorite...he takes full advantage of Tottie's earlier training of us about the can of cat food first thing in the morning.

Clarice Olivia started out as a foster kitten along with her brothers & sister, but she stayed. When I brought the litter home to foster, they were about 4 weeks old and we were going to keep them until they weighed 2 lbs & could be spayed/neutered. When I got them I was told that Clarice was a boy...she started out as Clarence Oliver. It became obvious fairly quickly that she would be staying. Simon liked all the kittens, but Clarice was his obvious favorite...she was also my favorite from day one. A week before the kittens were going in for their surgeries I let the animal shelter know that we'd be keeping "Clarence", but I still maintain that she adopted us, she started posting her name on Facebook as Clarence Oliver Kirby. I dropped them off at the vet on the assigned day & an hour later got the call that Clarence was a girl, and she became Clarice Olivia Kirby...after I was told she was a boy I never double checked & she's a fuzz butt, so it never became apparent until she was shaved. Most days Clarice & Simon spend the morning running amok around the house-after canned catfood breakfast-and the afternoons sleeping in the sun spot on my chair, sometimes with Gracie Lou...and occassionally I'm invited to join them. She's also been called the "cutest kitten ever", mostly by me, but it has been said by others. She's also usually a crucial subject of my Daily Pile of Cute pictures that are posted semi-regularly on Facebook.

Untitled By Anonymous

Spreading chaos & destruction
wherever she goes.
Thoughtless, careless, selfish,
are her hallmarks.
Others don't matter,
unless they benefit her,
it's all about her.
Never her fault,
always the victim.
Addiction fed by addiction
fed by enabling.
Lies fall from her mouth.
Manipulation her friend.
Sociopath, psychopath, bi-polar, personality disorder, bitch.
All labels she's born.
I'm done, I exit here.
Good luck with your mess.

Cassie Kirby March 1998-March 2011 Beloved Kitty

Cassie was 13 yrs old, she was born in the basement of our little house to the last of the feral cats we inherited when we bought our house. Doug came running in to tell me about her when she was born & told me that he was keeping her. Wh...en she was first born she was black, but had silver guard hairs over the top of the black. That's baby Doug holding baby Cassie. We ended up weaning her & her sister & brothers when their mom disappeared for 24hrs when they were 4 wks old. We bottle fed them for a week first. When they were old enough we found homes for the other kittens, but Doug got to keep his kitten

I love this picture of her. It's actually framed & hanging in our dining room. Cassie was very independant & did things her own way. She could come in the house anytime she wanted to, but wouldn't. When is snowed a few months ago, I tried to bring her in, it lasted all of five minutes. She loved her family, but really didn't let anyone else close to her. She was an excellent ratter & mouser.

About 10 days ago I noticed that she was bloated in her abdomen. I thought she had worms so I wormed her. A couple of days later she was still bloated, I still thought it was worms, but a more serious case, so I took her to the vet. It wasn't worms, her abdominal cavity was filled with fluid. They drained off the fluid & sent some off to be tested. None of the results would've been good, it was all pretty much a death sentence. They sent me home with some antibiotics for her & pressure bandage around her tummy. I kept her inside as long as she would stay, but short of keeping her in a kennel, it wasn't going to happen. She hated the antibiotics and after a couple of days on those she disappeared. The neighbors were seeing her, but she wasn't coming to anyone including the kids.

This morning I went about my regular routine, got home from Zumba about 10:45am. At 1:30pm I went outside to get the mail. Sometime in that almost 3 hours, Cassie had come home, crawled into her bed and passed away. She buried not far from where she was sitting in the second picture...she loved to sit up there and watch. I'll miss you so much Cassie, who will be waiting for me on the front porch when I come home from work? Who will sit on the front porch with me and keep me company on summer evenings? We love you, safe journey.

Why I Love the Animal Shelter...caution use of F-bomb

I love my job, I really do. However, when I'm at my job there are people who think it's perfectly acceptable to call 911 just tell me I'm a "worthless fucking bitch".

When I go to the animal shelter, I've got dogs who are VERY happy to see me. Today, Vince, jumped straight up in the air just to give me a kiss on the cheek. BTW, Vince, is a pitbull and an absolute sweetie, so no bad talking the pitbulls.

I HATE being sick

Seems like about all I've done in 2011 is be sick. It started end of January and lasted three weeks. Then Friday afternoon it started up again. By Saturday morning I was so miserable, I was awake at 4am, my head felt 4 times it's normal size, and I was seriously trying to cough up a lung. My lovely husband ran to the store and got me some DayQuil...and it knocked me out. I took it at 7am & was asleep about 7:30am...slept until 3pm. Gregg gave me another dose at 4pm & I was out like a light again! I thought this stuff wasn't supposed to make you sleepy!

But I hardly ever take anything stronger than aspirin or ibuprofen, so I have a very low tolerance to medication. I've been known to be knocked out by regular Sudafed...before they screwed it up because of the freaking meth cooks.

So, I'm just under a week with round two. It better not 3 weeks again. I'm really not good at being sick. I'm cranky, mean, short tempered, and will snap at everyone-and that's a good sick day. Poor Gregg & the kids, I really feel bad. I don't mean to be this way, but it's like all my filters are turned off & everything irritates the liver out of me, engage mouth & instant cranky.
Last night was not a good sick night & I was whiney & cry babyish...I really hate when I'm like that. I don't know how hypochondriacs do it, I can't imagine wanting to be sick on purpose.

Ready or Not, Here Comes 44!

Thursday is my birthday. I'll be 44 years old. My age doesn't bother me...it's just a number. I'm pretty healthy, except for that little thyroid problem & this cold I've been fighting for 3 weeks, I've got a good job, I've got a great husband & kids, nice home, nice cars, interesting hobbies and interests...my life is actually pretty good for the most part.

I find I'm not really interested in presents this year...I've got more than enough stuff & the means to buy more stuff if I really want it or need it. I'll be happy with cards, phone calls, Facebook posts...but there's stuff that I really want to do on my birthday.

I want to go to Zumba. I haven't been able to work out since I got this cold 3 weeks ago...that's a long time for me to go without a workout. So this week, regardless of the hacking cough, I'm going back to Curves & Zumba. Thursday morning I'm going to start out my day with a Zumba class.

Then I want to go to the yarn shop and fondle the yarns. I love to go to this place and just feel the different yarns. I may indulge a little & buy some specialty yarns that I wouldn't normally splurge for, but mostly I just like to walk around this little shop and FEEL the different yarns. I guess I'm a pretty tactile person, I love the different textures.

Then, I'm going out to the shelter to walk dogs...yes, on my birthday. I really can't tell you how much I love going to the shelter and walking the dogs. It's very therapeutic for me. I like being around the animals, who just want to be around me. They really don't ask anything from me except my presence. The last three weeks while I've been sick, I haven't been able to walk the dogs like I normally do. Also, the shelter has been very full. Mostly they've been getting either play time, or just potty break walks. They don't care, they're still happy to see me. I love that about them.

Last, but not least, I want to go to Charleston to Fisherman's Grotto, for my birthday dinner and eat fish & chips. This will be the perfect end to my day.

This might all seem pretty mundane, and I admit it's probably not the most exciting way to spend a day, but you know what, I'm usually going 100mph all day on my days off and the days I work. A day just to do the things that I want to do, things that I find relaxing & stimulating at the same time, sounds like just the thing for my 44th birthday.

Signs of Spring

Just some small signs of spring that have been sprouting around my yards and planters...now if I could just get over this darn cold.

Parts

You hear a lot of stuff about parts of people that they'd like to change...heck, plastic surgeons make the majority of their money off people who want to change their parts. Me, personally, I don't think I'd go in for plastic surgery short of something cautastrophic happening & being disfigured.

My worst looking parts are my feet. I have really ugly feet. I have an extra high instep, and short, fat, sausage looking toes. Plus, I like to run around barefoot, so I have callouses on the bottoms, my little toes have huge callouses on the sides, so they look totally misshapen, and my big toes get ingrown toenails all the time-I have a genetic pre-disposition to them-thanks Dad.

It's easy to hide my feet, just wear shoes & socks, and for most of the year that works. But there is some time during the summer when sandals are more comfortable. My trade off here is to wear moccasins.

I really don't spend a lot of time fretting about my feet. They are what they are. I am glad that my kids seem to have gotten their dad's feet though.

By far my best feature is my hands. I have nice, long fingers. When I grow my nails out they look really elegant. Pictured is my hands after their first, and so far only, manicure from last July. I would like to get another one done, but lately money's been a little tight, so I can wait until I'm a little ahead for the next one.

My hands are on the large size-again thank you Dad, but they're not out of proportion for the rest of me...I'm not dainty, I come from good, sturdy, peasant stock. I wish my hands had the ability to play a musical instrument, but so far that's eluded me. I might try again with the violin, but this time I'm going to buy a good one.

My hands are good at creating. I do several crafts, but mostly crochet. I get a lot of pleasure from this, and I've been doing some good with the skill also. They're also strong, which is good for gardening, another favorite hobby. They've also had the pleasure of holding my babies when they were born, and my husband through some good times & some not so good times. They've comforted little children, animals, and even my parents. They've also played several sports, some better than others, and never anywhere near a professional level, but always for fun. They've typed thousands, possibly millions of words, and probably written just about the same amount.

They are not without their flaws. I have a scar on the side of left index finger middle knuckle from a mishap w/a pocket knife. Middle finger on my left hand used to have a crescent shaped birthmark on the pad, but it's faded as I've gotten older. I've got a scar on palm of my right hand from tripping over a glass soda bottle and then landing on it when I was a kid, and a couple of freckles on the back of it almost dead center. I've got some mild calluses on both hands, but I wear gloves more faithfully now, so they not as pronounced as they once were. But you know, my hands are just about 44 years old now, overall they are holding up well.

Of course, my hands couldn't get anywhere w/out my feet...

Introducing Sophia Kirby...the stray that stayed

Around Thanksgiving a little white kitten showed up at our food dishes. Very skittish, wouldn't let us anywhere close. My son, Doug, spent hours outside trying to convince kitten to come to him. She would come close, but not close enough & wouldn't let him touch. Then on Dec 30th, 2010, she somehow got into my husband's shop. The kids cornered her & Riley, my daughter, caught her. She's got some Siamese somewhere in the background-her ears & tail are orange, and I would guess between 4-5 months old. And she's a girl.

We named her Sophia, and from the start Doug is clearly her favorite. And I do mean clearly, she literally lights up when Doug is in the room & ignores everyone else. She treats him like a jungle gym and plays on him, and then will cuddle up to sleep. Last night Riley & I went to the store, when we got home Doug was sleeping sitting up on the couch w/Sophie on his lap w/his hand over her back...she was wide awake, but not leaving her boy.

It's really very cute. My son is not dainty, but Sophie is, and she has absolutely no fear of him whatsoever. In fact she demands that he pay attention to her and will cuddle with him as long as he'll let her.

She likes the rest of us too, just not as much as she loves Doug. Here's Riley with her the night we caught her.

And this was right after she was caught...she stepped in some motor oil, that was cleaned off right away.

She's getting used to the dogs and Tottie. Cookie already has adopted her and Cassie wants nothing to do with her. Cookie, Tottie, and Cassie are our other cats. She's pretty much lost all fear of us, we haven't tried to introduce her to other people quite yet, but soon.

Ready or not it's 2011

So far my New Year has consisited of work broken up by a brief bout of sleep. I worked a 14 hour shift New Year's Eve, and then back for my normal 12 hour shift New Year's Day. Needs to settle down quickly or I'm moving straight to 2012.

New Year's resolution:last year my resolution was to make one Mother Bear Project bear a month. I accomplished this goal. Not bad for the first New Year's resolution I'd done in years. This year I'm going to again do the one Mother Bear Project bear a month, but I'm adding learning how to make cold process soap. Towards this end I've bought a bunch of books that I'm working my way through. I'm hoping by next month to maybe start experimenting.

There's nothing warm & fuzzy about this what the heck was Obama thinking

Today I've read several news articles about President Obama calling the owner of the Phillidelphia Eagles and congratulating him on hiring Michael Vick, for giving someone getting out of prison a second chance...truly offensive is that one of these articles is accompanied by a picture of President Obama playing with his dog while carrying a football.

Michael Vick was convicted and sent to prison for running a dog fighting ring. There's nothing warm & fuzzy about dog fighting. He was raising dogs with the sole purpose of fighting other dogs, probably to the death. In the course of doing this he was torturing other dogs, the bait dogs. The bait dogs are used to train the fighting dogs, and are generally torn apart by the fighting dogs, only to be soon replaced with new bait dogs. Some of the tortures that all the dogs endure include:electrocution, having their teeth pulled out, being beaten, being hung, you get the idea.

Okay, the man served his time and is now out of prison. Apparently, he is a good athlete, so that excuses all his other actions? I don't hardly think so. People who torture animals are sociopaths, they have no regard for others. A couple of weeks ago, Michael Vick, said in an interview that he'd like to get another dog...ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME????? He continued on to say that he thought he'd be a good dog owner and his kids really want a dog. Really, doesn't anyone else see the problems with this? He's still on parole and not allowed to own a dog as a term of his release. Did I mention he RAN a dog fighting ring? And he thinks he'd make a good dog owner??? This hardly sounds like a rehabilitated man to me.

So, the impression I'm left with, is that if the sociopath is an exceptional athlete, then all can be forgiven. My co-worker's opinion is that President Obama is looking for a second chance with people himself. Personally, the whole thing leaves a sour taste in my mouth & I've got nothing for either of them. I would consider second chances for people who are truly repentant, but I'm not seeing that from either of them.

Merry Christmas!

Hope everyone is having a wonderful Christmas. Ours was good, and then I went to work. Above is our foster kitty, Pooky, who had a nice Christmas in our home, rather than at the shelter. He's a very sweet kitty, who gets along w/other cats, dogs, and people. All the dogs who could go to a foster home, went to a foster home for the holiday weekend, and I believe all the cats got out for the holiday also!

It all began June 13, 1985...a Thursday

Yeah, that's me at 18...about 6 weeks before I met Gregg. At the time I was so not looking for a relationship. I met Gregg four days after I graduated from high school. I was actually ambushed into the first date, the only blind date I've ever had. One of my best friends was dating his roommate and had been trying to convince me to meet him. I kept putting her off. She called at noon the day after we graduated & had our all night party. I'd just gotten up & I don't wake up quick, so she caught me off guard. Basically, she just confirmed that I wasn't seeing anyone seriously, and asked if I had plans Thursday night. I should have seen it coming, what with the lead up question & all, but I wasn't quite awake yet & was thinking "Cool, girls night out", so told her I had no plans. That was when she announced "Good, his name is Gregg & you two can double with Rick & me."

I tried to get out of it, but she wasn't having it & I didn't leave myself an out. So super nervous about what I was getting into, I got into the car with her in the early afternoon & went out to her house. Since I was so nervous she convinced me that we should have a glass of wine to settle my nerves. I'm not a drinker & this was basically the last time I drank anything alcoholic. Alcohol usually upsets my stomach & I end up throwing up after a swallow or two. I kept this down & basically we got the giggles. All my friend would tell me was that he looked like a football player, she thought he had lightish hair & possibly blue eyes.

When I heard the car pull up, I ran into her bedroom to see if I could get a sneak peek, while she went out to greet them. I saw her boyfriend get out of the car first & kind of panicked...he was cute, but soooo not my type. Then I saw her hug him & was so relieved that I just walked back out to the living room & sat down.

I still remember the first time I saw Gregg. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt and Levis. The first thing I noticed was his chest-it was pretty impressive. Then his eyes, they are REALLY blue. Then I realized he was gorgeous. I went back into ultra nervousness.

Rick's car was a 1978 (I think) Trans Am...Gregg & I were in the tiny backseat. Rick & Alecia were in the front seat having an argument. The whole thing was awkward to say the least. We got into town & went to a store. Gregg & I stayed in the car and made chit chat about how awkward we felt about "the argument". Then we all decided to see the movie "Fletch". Gregg had already seen it, but was willing to see it again. I told him then that I would ask him what was going to happen next, that I would really bug him about it, but don't tell me because I hate that. At the theater I proceeded to do exactly that...it's a small character flaw, I also usually read the last page of a book after completing the first chapter. I need to know how it ends in case something comes up & I can't finish the book...or just to make sure it has a happy ending before I get too invested in it.

After the movie we went out the beach...and Rick & Alecia promptly disappeared. Gregg & I found a driftwood log to sit on & talked for hours. I got his life story & he got mine. He didn't try to make a move, and I didn't know what to think of that. He was/is a good guy who was just figuring out, at 21, that he didn't want his life to turn out like his parents' or his siblings'. He'd been sober for 8 months and had done it with out any real family support. I had just graduated from high school, had plans to go to college in the fall & study Criminal Justice so that I could be a cop. At this point in the conversation most guys felt the need to talk me out of that, Gregg didn't. He was amazed that I knew what I wanted to do & had a plan to do it already in place. He fell asleep in my lap on the way home & asked permission to hold my hand while he walked me to the door. We made plans to see each other that weekend.

I told another friend the next day that I'd met the man I was going to marry. This was a revelation to everyone. I was the one who'd always said I'd never get married, that in my 30's I'd adopt a kid-probably an 8 year old one. My dad had taught me basic car repair, basic home repairs. My mom made sure that I knew how to do laundry & cleaning...no one could convince me to learn how to cook. All preparations because I was never going to get married. I was pretty sure I'd never find a male of the species who would accept me the way I was. EVERY time I started dating a guy they'd try to change me...I was too independent, I was too smart, I was too self reliant...all things that I believe had attracted them in the first place, but then I stayed that way.

Gregg took me to the races on Sunday, and then we went out to Laverne Park & just hung out. Again, he'd hold my hand, but that was it. That night we were at my house watching movies. I was leaning against him on the couch & not a move to be made by him. I finally took matters into my own hands & kissed him. Apparently, that was all I needed to do. He was a slow starter, but once he got going...

We'd been dating a couple of weeks when he told me he loved me. Shocked the hell out of me. But that's always been the thing about Gregg, he tells me what he thinks & he tells me the truth, and he doesn't hold back. I really love this about him, I tend to be blunt to the point of rude myself, but this took me off guard. I knew how I felt about him, but wasn't anywhere near the point of being ready to tell him, it was still my closely guarded secret, and now I needed to say something. It was a deep breath, put on your big girl panties and tell the truth type of moment. I told him I loved him too, it was the truth, and it was real, but it scared the hell out of me-now he could hurt me & I don't do vulnerable well.

Of course, obviously things worked out. We got married just over 4 years after we met. I insisted on finishing college & living together for at least 6 months first...over my parents' objections and Gregg's too. We lived together for about 18 months of this just over 4 years.
During this 4 years Gregg worked his way through a couple of jobs, learning his craft-he used to do body work & paint cars, until he got chemical asthma & had go to work as a service advisor at the dealership he worked for. I graduated from college, decided that I wanted to stay in dispatch rather than go out on patrol. While Gregg was going to AA meetings, I went with him. I figured if this was something he was going to live with, then I needed to know too. The people at the meetings were very supportive of my coming to meetings with him, for which I will always be grateful.

I took this picture of Gregg after we'd been dating a few months...was I right about that chest or what? And this was the car he was driving when I met him. Sweet right. He still has it & someday it will be back on the road.

And this is our wedding picture. From the left:Tami-my youngest sister, Kathy-my younger sister, me, Gregg, Ed-Gregg's best friend, Vern-Gregg's other best friend. We got married August 5th, 1989. I was 22, Gregg was 25...dude we were young. We'd always pretty much known we'd end up married. We broke up once...that lasted for four days. It was all Gregg's fault and he had to track me down-I was avoiding him for all I was worth-and he had to admit it was dumb to break up with me...he had to fix my heart. It was only fair, he was the one who'd broke it.

Our original plan was to live together for six months, after I'd lived on my own for a little bit (just to make sure I could do it-I lived on my own for about 6 weeks before Gregg moved in with me), and then go to Reno or Vegas and get married by an Elvis impersonator. I loved this plan, but our families had other plans. After Gregg moved in we started ring hunting. This proved to be problematic and ended up taking a year...during this year we also both lost our jobs, got new jobs and had to move-twice. Our argument over the ring was this:Gregg wanted to get a "traditional" wedding set. This meant one of those Love Story sets that were all the rage in the 80's. I hated them, they were cookie cutter rings. I wanted a simple gold band and a solitary ruby engagement ring. Gregg hated this idea, he wanted traditional, to him that meant a diamond. I tried to explain that traditional was really a colored stone, that the diamond industry had made diamonds "traditional", but they really weren't. He didn't buy it. So we'd hit the jewelry stores. I'd pick out what I liked, he'd pick out what he liked & never the two did meet. Then one night we weren't looking, just walking by the store & I saw the perfect set in the window. I grabbed Gregg, showed him & he liked it too! We went into the store and it was far too expensive for us to afford. We were devastated, the first set we both could agree on in a year and we couldn't get it. Then the clouds parted and the salesman told us that the rings in that window went on sale for half price tomorrow and if we opened an account with the store it would be another 10% off...we could afford it! I was there when the store opened the next day getting my rings.

We were so excited & called everyone. This was in February. We told everyone we'd get married in the summer and invited them all to come with us to Reno or Vegas. Then something unprecedented happened. Our two families got together and decided that they really wanted us to have a church wedding, figured out what date was best for everyone on both sides, reserved the church and then told us when & where we were getting married. I was ready to revolt, but Gregg wanted to go along & make everyone happy & talked me into it. Suddenly I had to plan this wedding that I'd never planned on having & I didn't have a clue what to do. I got it done, but it wasn't pretty. Then the disasters happened. The priest who was going to marry us was in a fairly serious car accident two weeks before the wedding...right after that the flower girl broke her little leg. The priest was determined to marry us, and the flower girl demanded to still be included...so the flower girl came down the aisle wearing her pink cast (after telling the hilarious story of how she broke it, complete with a spin & throwing herself to the ground in the lobby of the church just before the ceremony), and the priest married us while a little stoned on pain killers. This included him initially trying to marry Gregg off to my sister Kathy, until his wee error was pointed out to him. Then of course the ring bearer, after bringing the ring to his dad perfectly, decided to sprint around the alter with his mom in full pursuit. It was actually a pretty entertaining wedding.

So here we are 25 years later. Gregg is still gorgeous. I now have long hair. We've grown up together. We're raising two pretty good kids. We're not wealthy, but we're comfortable. We've had our problems, we stuck them out, we stayed together. I think probably no one else would have either of us, but that's okay, I can't think of anyone else I'd want. Not too bad for someone who never thought she'd get married.

And when you live on the coast you gotta have a dog named Rusty

Okay, the last month has been busy, but not really much new...until this week. Pictured above is Rusty, a 3 yr old male Pomeranian, that is "orange sable". He was very nervous at the shelter so we took him home overnight to see how he would do in a home. That was Wednesday. Thursday, we helped out in the morning just doing some cleaning & letting the dogs in & out to play. We brought Rusty & all the little dogs ran amok inside. We took Rusty home Thursday night too (shelter was closed). Brought him back out Friday & took him home Friday night. I'm working this weekend, so Doug & Riley were going to bring him back to the shelter on Saturday at noon. This dog is wonderful...great manners, not neutered and yet hasn't marked anything inside the house, very sweet, very cuddly, and VERY cute. No one out there has looked twice at him. His owner surrendered him after only having him a couple of months because she works 10 hour days and was upset that he'd had accidents after being cooped up inside for 10 hours straight. He apparently has been passed around quite a bit prior to the last owner. I don't get it, I really don't, he's wonderful! Friday night Gregg told me that Riley wanted to keep him and asked how I felt about it. It should be pointed out here that I'm his obvious favorite in the family & it's really quite flattering. He gets beyond excited when I come home, he fawns all over me. He likes everyone else as well & gets along really well with the other dogs. But, do we really need four dogs? Saturday morning before I left for work I told Gregg that if we're not taking the dog out to the shelter to let me know so I could call and let them know. At 9:30am I got the call to see if we could keep him for a couple more days just to make sure. Nicole was more than fine with that, and had apparently been expecting it ;-)

Last night we were watching a movie, Riley & I sitting on the couch, Rusty between us stretched out so that he's touching both of us-I got his head, he he he. Today Riley and her friends and their dogs were all out walking in the mist & playing having a grand old time. I think Rusty has found his forever home.

Days That Break Your Heart

So, yesterday, Riley & I got to spend basically the whole day at the shelter, since Riley was out of school. We hung out with the dogs and everybody got good long walks and we had a blast. Good news is that my buddy Bear is going to a foster home & getting some "rehab" training to help deal with his fear of men. When he is done w/rehab, he will be re-homed. Great news for Bear! Two really great dogs were reclaimed by their owners...both surprisingly enough were Rotties. The rest of the good news is that all but two dogs are going to go to OHS on Tuesday morning...meaning that I would've only had two dogs to walk Tuesday if no more dogs were taken in. About that time a little red car pulled up. A woman got out who was obviously nervous & shaken. While she was a gas station in town a LARGE black dog got into her car & wouldn't get out. Poor guy is huge, but also obviously starving. Nicole had to remove him from the car w/a catch pole. She got him into a kennel & he inhaled a whole bowl of food, ate all the dog biscuits we were handing him, and then devoured the 2nd (half) bowl that Riley brought him. He probably would've eaten more, but we didn't want to make him sick. Poor guy has sore paws too. I've seen other dogs come in this way. They've been walking on concrete for several days usually & they've rubbed the pads of their feet raw. Right now he probably weighs between 60-70 lbs...he should probably weigh closer to 1oo-125 lbs. He's got a big Mastiff head, but he's so skinny it's hard to tell what else he might be, possibly lab. I'm hoping that when I go back on Tuesday he's got a new lease on life. Right now he's not sure if he should trust us or not & was scared & confused. I'm hoping he realizes now that he's safe, and I'm hoping that his owners don't come looking for him. Right now he's WAY better off at the shelter & we'll find him a great new home with people who will take care of him.