The "C" Word

This is a very short post.  We all know that cancer is not good.  And chemo, if not worse, adds insult to injury.  Not only did I lose a breast (actually no biggie), but I lost all of my hair, all of my fingernails, and one toenail (don't ask.  I don't know why just one).  And in the last four-and-a-half years, my hair has grown back (my breast has not); my fingernails have more or less grown back (the toenail has not); and my eyelashes and eyebrows have never recovered.

So, in a fit of vanity, I decided to have my (nonexistent) eyebrows tattooed on.  I found a great place and a fabulous esthetician and had it done.  I was very nervous, but Lisa soothed my fears and told me that while my eyebrows would appear extremely dark for the first week or so, they would soon fade into a very natural look.  Through her wizardy, I think Lisa's captured the "real me" --- agreed?

Proof That Women are More Evolved than Men!

This is Alice.

She is a border collie and

she is very smart.

This is my husband.

He is a man.

He is very smart, too.

Alice loves to play outside in the water.
She gets very muddy.

Alice likes to play in water inside too.

She digs in her water dish

in the kitchen.

But one day, Alice found a fabulous source of

water in the bathroom!

And she dug and she dug and she dug!

  Water went everywhere.

This was not an Approved Alice Activity.

Later that night, the following conversation occurred:

"I found Alice digging in the toilet tonight," said husband.

"Mmm, yes, she did that earlier too."

"I told her to quit three or four times and she wouldn't.  I finally had to close the bathroom door."

"Really, Dear?"

as I turned the next page in my book.  

"I just put the lid down"

Report From a Parsienne Bathroom (Le Toilette)

Allo^ from Paris, where I sit in "le toilette" to type because it's the only place to charge my laptop.  It is a very nice bathroom, so all is good.

I joined the husband on Friday morning for a whirlwind trip after he finished some business here earlier in the week.  It was a long flight.  I was up at 4 a.m. to make it to our airport for a 6:20 flight.  Hooray  for Trish who volunteered to give me a ride.  Well, she didn't fuss and was quite cheery,  so that is practically volunteering in my book.   Besides it the most time we've had together to chat in a year or two...

Here I am in the Philadelphia Airport ready to board a 6 p.m. flight for Paris arriving 7:30 the next morning   -- this is my tired face.....

 

and here I am this morning....

I am feeling very French with my scarf and in front of the sign that tells me not to smoke in French.  Oui, oui!

We have hit as many of the museums as possible in our short time, and tomorrow we are taking the train to Normandy for some sort of tour that my hubs has heard is very good.  So today was the day to shop and experience Paris outside of the museums.... Here are some things I've learned...

·         Paris is very expensive.  I'd heard that...BUT Sephora has the same Clinique makeup for 32,90 EU that I can buy in San Diego for $21.95 (dislike)

·         They call a diet Coke "Coke Light" (like).  On the Champs de Elysses, it sells for 6,90 EU (about $8.50) (dislike)

·         Fabulous pizza.  No, really.  And crust to die for.... yummy...  (double like)

·         Fabulous breakfasts here at the hotel (food, duh, LIKE)

·         Lots of Parisians have dogs -- lots of terriers, too. Schnauzers, Jack Russells, even a Scottie!  (like)

·         internet charge of $20/day (dislike)

·         Free WiFi at the Starbucks (yes, Starbucks, Vicki) around the corner. (like)

And that's where I'm headed.  Au revoir... and signing out from the Trocadero neighborhood of Paris!

Most Happiest of Valentine's Day Wished Upon You

What do roses and dog poop have in common?  Not much...unless it's Valentine's day and you find

this in your yard. 

*sigh* someone loves me!

Ponies on Parole, Part 2

***On last week's episode, Denise and family had been notified that their three horses were loose and Animal Control had been called in to take care of them****

4:40 a.m.  We were now driving around the neighborhood following the sheriff's vague directions that the horses were just "up the street."  The husband was the only one dressed and in a semblance of order (but he's sort of like that).  I had jumped into sweatpants and my tall rubber muck boots and threw a jacket over my knee-length lime green night shirt emblazoned a cartoon weiner dog and the saying "I wanted to be around you."

Jess was lying on her stomach, with her head between the two front seats (we'd not taken the time to fold up the seats in the Expedition) barking orders.  It appeared as though we were taking orders from a disembodied head.

4:55 a.m.  Still trying to determine just exactly where "up the street" is.  Denise is becoming more hysterical.  Allan calls the sheriff dispatch for better directions.

5:05 a.m.   We spot a pile of horse poop and just beyond that an animal control officer holding a big, brown horse.  Dutchie!  As I leap out of the truck, the woman says, “Thank goodness you are here.  We couldn’t get this one to load in the trailer.  The other two are already gone.” 

What?!  

“When they come back, maybe you can help us load him.” 

Do you not see the lime green tee shirt and the bed head?  Do I look like an animal control officer?  This is my horse!

5:10 a.m.  We clear up the confusion and Dutchie is released into our custody.  I’ve got instructions to pick up the other two at the Animal Shelter and lead my one remaining horse home with a dog’s leash around his neck.

(fast forward)

2:00 p.m.  My good friend, Teri, and I are heading down to the shelter with the horse trailer to spring the jailbirds.  When we arrive, the lobby is packed.  We sign in and go looking for the horses.  Suddenly, Teri spots this:

We grab an employee walking by and tell him they are MY horses!  They're going to adopt them out in two days?  Where are they?  He says they are in the back, BUT I have to be able to ID them.  Okay, but how?  Veterinarian reports, pictures, bill of sale.  He then takes us through all the offices and into the back lot where the two miscreants are dozing in a pipe corral. 

As soon as I see them, I shout, “Oreo!  What happened?  Who opened the gate?”  Both ponies snap to attention and come to the rail.  Oreo whinnies and flips her head, then curls her lip up in the flehmen response.  The employee starts laughing and says, “Well, that’s a positive ID if I’ve ever seen one!”

Back to the lobby.  We wait.  We wait some more.  And then a little longer…until ---

4:30 p.m.

We’re the only ones left.  Teri, above, is calling home to tell them we are still here… then my name is called!  We run to the counter and after writing a rather unpleasant check to bail them out, we head for home.

Remember this picture?  Really?  No one could figure out who might have owned these horses?

Ponies on Parole

Let me ask you: Look at this photo. Does this motley group look like a common group of criminals to you?

Look again.



Does this look like a wild horse who won't be caught?
A horse who gallops wildly about the neighborhood
inciting mayhem amongst his fellow equines?

And how about this one?

Is this really the face of a common scofflaw?

A pony who deserves to be incarcerated?

And finally, the alleged juvenile delinquent.

Is this young equine truly guilty of breaking and exiting (the pasture)?

Did he really poop in the middle of the road late one night?

Well, let me tell you a story...
a story of equines gone wild.

First, take a look at my house. I live in a neighborhood. Granted, we all have at least an acre and a half, but it's still a neighborhood.
Standing in the road, if you look down the street to the left
this is what you see:

Now if you look to the south, this is what you see:

And if you look directly at the front of the house,

this is what you see:

One night not that long ago, we were awakened by a knock at the door around 4:30 in the morning. There was a deputy at the door who asked, "Do you have horses?" (in case you have a short memory, take a look at the above photos again.) He then announced that they'd been out since 1 a.m. and Animal Control had had been trying to catch them and find their owner!

(refer to above photos again if necessary)

So the husband, the daughter, and I leapt up, threw on some clothes, and took off in pursuit of Animal Control and my horses.

(to be continued...)

Ruthie and the Luckless Sisters

,

No, really, this is not a new music trio.  This is the "rest of the ladies" who've some to live with us. Joining Pointless, Aimless, Feckless, and Graceless are

Ruthless and Luckless (times 2)

Meet
Ruthless aka
"Ruthie"
She leads the flock with an iron claw...

And the

Luckless Sisters

Luckless 1 and Luckless 2

In the short time they have lived with me,

ONE was bitten by SamDammit and became quite lame,

ONE fell into the trashcan containing the chicken feed

and spent the day trapped when the lid fell down upon her 

and

ONE apparently flew over the fence and had all her tail feathers pulled out by the neighbor's dogs.

AND THERE IS ONLY  TWO OF THEM.

*SIGH*