Weekly Word Challenge

I recently joined Tink in the weekly word challenge. The words for this week were Orange and N.

My interpretations (drum roll please):

Orange speed demon.





Orange books. I do believe that Penguin Books need to vary their covers a bit.





The best orange of all. An orange haired niece.





From the leap frog fridge set. Where we spell naughty words because we're 12.

Off my pompous latin sign in the entryway.

I'm not sure if there are any rules I need to post or what the protocol might be, so if there's something else I need to do, hopefully someone will let me know.

Thus concludes my first weekly challenge. Ah'm just plum tuckered out.

Well, good grief

I've missed my own blogversary! It was a year on Feb 23. So have a glass of something on me.



I've been having a little R&R here:






A bit of soul searching, if you will. No place better for that than my feet in the sand. But alas, it's now back to the grind.

I will be asking for opinions on the decisions I've made and the changes I'm contemplating. If everyone could put on their best 'wise one' expressions and prepare to counsel me, that'd be just peachy.

Peachy keen, even.

Mmmm, mmmm

Ya'll see this lil ole hayseed plowboy? Ain't he just a big ole long drink o' hunk?

photos from cbs.com/survivor

A wounded heart

I may or may not have mentioned before that we had a little Jack Russell terrier show up on our porch about four months ago. We let him sleep in the garage while looking for his owner. He had a collar but no tags and he wasn't microchipped. (CHIP YOUR DOGS!!!) I put up posters and contacted all of the shelters within a three state radius with no luck. Soooo....guess who moved into the house with us? Just let me state that had I known I was going to keep him, I would've come up with a more original name than 'Jack'.


All went swimmingly with Jack, even though he regularly tormented poor Gus, who is too big and dumb to defend himself. (Actually, he's just a really sweet dog who didn't want to hurt the little one, but it's more fun to call him big and dumb). He even slept at the foot of the bed with Betty Boop. Until last night. Last night, completely unprovoked, he did this:

Silas was sitting on the floor putting his shoes on when Jack attacked him. We are so lucky that there wasn't more damage. The thought of those disproportionately long teeth that close to my baby's eyes makes me cringe. Silas did the right thing by covering his head and rolling over as soon as the attack started. It breaks my heart that my little boy, who loves everyone and everything, had to use inherent survival skills in his own home. That I knowingly exposed him to harm. How could I have known, you ask? I dreamed it the night before. And my dreams always come true in some form. So I knew he was going to bite him, but I thought I had time to place him in a rescue. I gambled and Silas lost.

Jack has been taken by animal control. He has to be quarantined for ten days and then he'll be euthanized. There is no other way, the law will not bend on this. I just wish he didn't have to die. Even though I could've killed with my hands if I hadn't been tending Silas. But since we have no history on him and don't know if he's had his rabies shots or not, he must go.

This is the wound this morning:

It's the wounds to his heart that worry me most. He feels so betrayed and hurt. This is the first time he's ever been hurt by something he loved. I wish it would be the last.

I took the picture before we left for the ER because I knew animal control would need it. NOT because I'm an awful mother exploiting her kids injury. but since I had it anyway.....

Funny.....

I don't remember a romantic liason with Javier Bardem about six years ago.

Or Buster Brown, for that matter.

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