Weekly Word Challenge

It's the weekly word challenge! I'm glad I joined this, at least I'll post once a week. Believe me, with everything going on, I'm doing good to get that. The weird thing is, I blog all day in my head. Do you guys do that? Just me? Loony bird, you say? Well, that's not nice. I'm taking my toys and going home.

After I show you my interpretation of the words for this week, which were spring and opening.

Nothing says spring like a bunny. This is Cabeza de Leon, aka beza. His name translates from spanish to head of a lion. Because (wait for it...) he's a lion headed rabbit. The cleverness, it astounds you.




Spring is also epitomized by baseball. Or in this case, tball. Or as it was known for most of the game, tackle tball.

(yes, I am aware I need to get him some baseball socks and cleats. Opening day kind of snuck up on me, OK?) OH WAIT! It was opening day! I can use these for both words. That's good, because for opening? I got nuttin.

Have I mentioned that my back hurts? Yes? fine. carry on...

Because my sciatica hurts, that's why!

Oh, poppets...the pain, the AGONY. I've never had this before, and I don't like it, not one bit. We had a lovely, warm springlike day and I went a little crazy with the yardwork. Normally, this would result in my wayward disc poking out a little, an application of the heating pad, and we'd all be fine.

But this! This is different. and it won't go away. From my middle back to the knee of my right leg is suffused with cold fire. I can't walk or sit or lay comfortably. Someone call the waaahmbulance.

Instead of doing the old lady shuffle, I'm doing the peg leg lurch. Frightening small children and animals as I heave myself around in a bizarre ballet of stiff legged lunging, grimace of pain plastered to my face.

If anyone has any experience with this beast called sciatica, please advise me. What works on this? What have you tried?

And for those of you who aren't all broken up and falling apart? You can just kiss my sciatica.

(normally, I'm not so mean...but the PAIN...the pain makes me snarky...I'm glad you're not all broke up, really I am)

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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