Merry Christmas!

May you enjoy the company of good friends...

May large, pig like creatures NOT try to eat your hat...

May you have much peace.

This post is not password protected

I was wondering if you'd be willing to share some of your vast store of knowledge and wisdom with me? Please? I have encountered a situation here in bloggyland that I don't know how to handle. If someone password protects a post, how am I supposed to respond?

Do I email them and ask for the password? That seems a little presumptuous to me. If they wanted me to have the password, wouldn't they have sent it to me? Of course, that seems a bit egotistical as well. Assuming that everyone I read would think to send me the password. Hell, half the people I read don't even know I read them.

Do I assume that they're writing about me and that everyone in the world has the password except me and you're all talking about it? (j/k on that one. Even I'm not that narcissistic)

What if I email and ask for it (which I did once) and they don't respond (which she didn't). I took this to assume that she didn't want me to read the post. duh But an email saying "hey, it's personal, no offense, quit stalking me you freak" would have been appreciated.

So, what is the universally accepted, correct, courteous and proper way to handle password protected posts? Please do share before I embarrass myself further.

I may have crossed a line

But before I get to that, I must show you what horror I had to endure on Halloween. I'm pleased with myself that I've gotten the Halloween pictures up before Christmas (hold your applause).

Silas has wanted to be the Predator from the Alien vs. Predator movies for two years now. This year I finally got it together and found the mask and hands for him. Sidenote: Do NOT, ever, google 'child predator hands'. Google does not know you mean predator costume. Back to your regularly scheduled post. And we can all thank his father for letting him watch such a scary movie. You have no idea how many arguments have ensued in our household over this. His defense? "He doesn't know what he's watching". I beg to differ. Anyway, sorry, end of tangent.

So hold onto your hats, ladies and gents. This is the extremely scary and somewhat nauseating costume my six year old wanted:

He has the helmet with the dread locks on it, but chose not to wear it. I have no idea why. The poor thing was absolutely mortified when a little girl took one look at him, screamed, and ran to her mother. He pulled his mask off, fell to his knees, and told her "it's just me. I'm just a little boy. I won't hurt you".

Now on to the line I may have crossed.

I have put the dogs in pajamas.

I know. You don't have to say it. I'm just not sure if there's a way back from this.

I've painted the bully's toenails. I've put bows in the spaniel's ears. (are those apostrophe's right?) (Is that one?) Someone get me a punctuation teacher and have me a baby. That should solve both problems, don'tcha think?

At least they're cute pajamas, right?

My dogma ate my CAR-ma

Haha! See what I did there? Dogma/Karma?

I'm sorry. It's just that I'm light headed from all the numbers rolling around in my head. Big, huge, scary numbers that represent how much it's costing to get my car fixed. (If you're thinking 'well, that's what you get for driving a Jag', you're mean and you made me cry. Happy?)

It just overheated, no big deal right? Wrong. You couldn't possibly be wronger in the whole history of being wrong, ever. I put a thermostat in it ($200). It ran fine. Until it didn't. Overheated again. This time I didn't catch it quick enough and it cracked the overflow tank, which of course is custom molded to fit in the little niche and lined in gold and plated with unicorn farts so therefore stupid expensive ($500).

Problem solved, right? HAH! Non, mon amie, non.

A few days later: WONK WONK High engine temperature. Catastrophic failure eminent. Cease and desist immediately. (at least that's what I hear when I see the temperature hand climbing)

So I give up and take it to an actual mechanic who diagnosed it as needing a new cooling fan assembly and harness ($760). So, yeah. I really hope you didn't want anything for christmas. We can go for a ride in my car if you want. No promises we'll get back though.

Whatever car repair god I pissed off still has it out for me. I was driving my daughters' car while mine was in the shop. She took it out last night, calls me at 10:00 (why do these calls never come before I get in my jammies?) and wails "why does everything you touch explode???". This is not sounding good. I ask her what I've exploded now. Her car is overheated on the side of the road.

And the cycle continues. Good news is, she has an escort. It really was just the thermostat and it only cost $10 to fix it. Score! Perchance the auto gods have been appeased and my good car karma restored all around.

I have arrived

Finally, after over a year of blogging, I have been truly accepted by the community. I, my friend, have my very own troll. Yes, it's true. A lovely anonymous troll using the pseudonym 'snoop' (ironic, no?) left a message on my last post about my lovely little bulldog puppy. He suggested that she deserved to be abandoned because of her stench, and then should be 'finished off with a gun'. As far as trolls go, fairly benign I guess.

But none the less, I am honored to be inducted into the club and appreciative of the sentiment.

ps: THE Bossy commented on the same post, which totally negates the whole troll thing, but I'm keeping my membership card anyway.

I just don't understand...

...how anyone could abandon this adorable sweetheart.



She was dropped off at the vet for a slight respiratory infection and never retrieved. I can't fathom why. She's as fine a specimen of an English Bulldog as you'll find. Someone paid fat stacks for her and then just left her.





I'm sure there could be a myriad of reasons as to why she was left and I'm very sorry for the person who had to make that decision. I am, however, very glad they chose to leave her somewhere responsible instead of on the roadside.

So now, please welcome the eighty fifth fourth canine member of our household. Miss TrixieBelle Lollipop. Why yes! Silas did name her. How did you know? Trust me, the name fits in well as our other dogs are:

Gus, also known as, Gustopher, Gustafson and Gustafarian;

Penelope Pitstop, aka Nellie, Nellie Goat and Smelly Nellie with the big belly;

and Betty Boop, aka The Boop, Boop Boop a Doop, and The Big Booper.

So I believe she'll fit right in. I'll be applying for my kennel license tomorrow. If you have any experience with Bulldogs and have wisdom to share, I welcome it. Meanwhile, I leave you with some puppy butt. You're welcome.

Take a breath...

...September is almost over! What a crazy month it is for us. Silas had his first day of school in August, then, before I knew what happened, he woke up as a six guy:




There were wishes to be made and cake to be eaten:



There were parties to be had at the water park:

We had our first soccer game:

(somewhere in between here, we had my fortymumblemumble birthday and eleventh wedding anniversary)

Then we were off to the beach for my auntie's wedding:

Where there were dogs who wear eyeshadow:

and little redheaded babies that make my ovaries ache:

Then off to play in the sand before coming home:

Now for a slight breather before starting the holiday rush.