Hot Beverage?

I like my hot beverages--coffee and green tea.  I'll drink black tea and some of that other stuff, but I really prefer green.  First thing in the morning and as an afternoon snack, however, coffee trumps it all--black in the AM and a sugary latte in the PM.  Black decaf after a dinner out.  It's pretty routine--certain times of the year it's like clockwork.  That's why I got such a chuckle out of Sheldon's character on the show, Big Bang Theory, when he noted that it's a "social custom" to offer someone an "hot beverage" when they are feeling down (at least that's what I vaguely remember--I was laughing too hard at "social custom" and, of course, "hot beverage").  I heard that months ago and I still cackle out loud when I say to Chief, "Hot beverage?"



via Google images

It's the little things in life.  Yes, I continue to drink hot beverages when the temps soar above 100 degrees.  They soothe my throat and placate my psyche, if the truth be told!  In astrological terms this is interesting because I'm a taurus ruled by the throat--my dad would say that this explains why I talk all the time.  hmmmm.  I'll leave you with that as I'm off to get my afternoon latte.

Buddy & Trigger

We started our search for a dog in a kind of official capacity last weekend by going to AZ Animal Welfare League's shelter.  There were a lot of furry faces to visit that it quickly became overwhelming.  In retrospect, we were so haphazard in our selection process last time.  We chose two male dogs who were roughly the same age, but they weren't litter mates and they weren't being kenneled together.  Trigger (who at the time was called "Trasher") was campaigning very hard to be chosen.  I could practically hear him yelling, "OOOH, pick me!  Pick me!!!"  Buddy was much more laid back with a kind of "how you doing" sort of vibe, who seemed very quiet.  Little did we know!  They were the only two we asked to look at, they seemed to get along and then we decided we'd take them both.  There you have it. 

Jon & I were talking about the dogs we saw and comparing notes when I remembered taking Buddy and Trigger home with us.  Trigger could not get out of the shelter fast enough.  He practically drug me through the lobby and jumped right into the back of the truck the second he could clear the gate.  With the look on his face and his extreme panic I would've expected him to reach down to give Buddy him a hand all the while shouting, "Come on man!  We have to leave now!  Hurry before they leave without us!"  Buddy, however, had spied a person arriving to turn in two cats.  He lunged and scared one of the poor cats under some lady's car and was way more interested in that whole scenario than jumping ship with Trigger.  It was quite a circus ride.  I had taken the dogs out to the truck by myself while Jon finished paying because Trigger was in a hell-fire hurry to leave.  Boy-howdy.  All these tucked-away memories have been popping up because of the dog search.  We are planning on going back tomorrow to visit and do a better job of getting everyone more focused.  Wish us luck! 

I really need to organize my photo library.  I have good pics of the dogs and can never find them when I'm looking for or needing them!

"Suggestion/Complaint" Box, a.k.a., the Bitch Box

I think I'm going to make a complaint box for our house.  One that's just for me and no one else--my own personal Bitch Box.  I will lodge the nastiest complaints in this box & later I will burn them.  (The irony is I say I'll do these things, yet I don't think I have the courage or the patience to articulate some of the stuff swirling around in my head)  I suppose I could "suggest" things to myself, but I don't really talk like that--the harshest I get there is "recommending" that some one "be quiet" or if really mad, "shut up."  I know, still not very nice.  That's why this box seems like such a great idea, today particularly.  I feel like the past couple of weeks have really worn on me & I no longer want to take it.  Thing is, where do you "put" it, whatever "it" happens to be?  Why you put it in the box and woe be to him who tries to peek in it, right?  You get enough complaints you can then burn them and start the merry process all over, again.  Kind of like the school run--you get in the car in the morning and drop the children off and do the same thing in the afternoon only in reverse, get in the car and pick up the children.  Cyclical, like the phases of the moon and the waves in the ocean or the fighting of politicians and the kvetching of the PTA moms (of which I am not, yet another story)--things you can always count on to reoccur.  Perhaps just having a Bitch Box in and of itself will cheer me and I won't have to complain.  We'll see about that.



Another Reason to Love Top Gear

via Google images

Our family enjoys watching the BBC version of Top Gear.  Chief & Big Monkey are motor heads of sorts, Little Man likes the squealing of tires, speeding and occasional wacky stunts the hosts pull and I just find the hosts funny and a little bit off.  I wonder aloud what it would be like to have The Stig's job.  We are currently catching up with back episodes on Netflixs and there have been 2 episodes from Season 2 where Jeremy has mentioned donkeys.  Love donkeys!  Makes me love the show even more.  Jeremy has 3 donkeys named Jeffrey, Eddie and Christian Scott donkey.  Too much.  He also had a tin bank that he put coins in on another episode.  For every car that had more than one person in it on the M-5, he'd put (can't remember how much) in it--for the donkey rescue!  Sadly, there more singletons on the freeway than carpoolers.  He kept shaking the tin, hollering, "Come on people!  What about the donkeys?"

Yes, people!  What about the donkeys?!!!

via Google images

Foster's Basket



via Google images

I scribble notes to myself on a pad, actually multiple pads and scraps of paper, & sometimes they don't always make sense to me or it takes a moment for the word or words to form a connection in my mind.  The other day it was "Arian Foster."  It was the last name that got me because I remembered about the basket--for a few days I kept referring to "Foster's Basket."  I don't know why I clicked on the link about a football player signing with Houston.  I suppose I wanted to know why he was overcome with emotions at his press conference.  Watching the clip, I was crying along with him. 

The story is that when he was little he was going to buy something specific for each of his family members, when he made it big in football.  He told everyone what he was going to get them and then they all asked, "What about your mom?"  He replied, "A fruit basket."  I have to chuckle because I think kids either get the ideal gift spot on or they have some crazy (to us, not them) idea come to them.  He was 7 when he made these statements and it became a running joke in his family.  They'd say to him, "When are you going to make good on the fruit basket?"  But, what really got me was when he was talking about how hard he saw his mom work and how she pawned her wedding ring one night to put food on the table.  He didn't want to have to do that to his children.  He went on to say that's why he works hard and doesn't complain too much (the article mentioned all that he had accomplished for the team but he wasn't really compensated for it, mentioning his salary ).  He said, "At the end of the day we are all people and all we want to do is smile...even when we were growing up and things were tough that's what he had, what kept my family going is that we smile through it all."  He was grateful for what had come his way and hearing him say that was so profound for me.  Here's a man who, at that particular moment, could demand more and probably get it but he was happy to have a job.  He came to that job and gave it his all and was satisfied with that.  He didn't have to worry about the lights being turned off or putting food on the table and, in part, that defined "success" for him.  That's food for thought (couldn't help myself)--but, seriously, it's something to really reflect on. 

So, every once in a while I remind myself of Foster's Basket.

(As a side note, he did have a fruit basket delivered to his mom at her work place!)

Strangeness at Costco

The boys & I were talking to a sample lady about these delicious little pizza-like items when a pushy woman came up and said to the sales lady, "Ahhm...do you have any fresh samples?  These look a little old."  No, they didn't--they were just the smaller pieces because they came from the outer part of the circle.  The sales lady was really nice and said some were just about done grilling and that's when we said "thank you" and went over to the case to pick up some up for ourselves. 

We finished our shopping, checked out and headed for the truck.  That probably took about 30 or so minutes, because there was a potty stop and a "venting machine" stop (see my post from last summer about the "venting machine"  http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5685134614121762039#editor/target=post;postID=374885236268043931).  When we got outside there were two police cars and officers talking to the same woman who needed "freshness."  At first it wasn't apparent what was going on.  Was she robbed?  Was there an accident?  As we got closer I noticed she was in an handicap spot.  I wondered why they would come to ticket someone in a handicap spot without a hanger or decal, not that I minded because someone who doesn't need that kind of spot but still uses it involves big kahunas and bad kharma.  As we drew closer I saw she had a hanger on her rearview--she gets around really very well and is about my age, not that appearances are always a good indicator as to why one has an hanger--but, she also had two gigantic dogs in the truck!  I'm talking Mastiffs.  It was at least 100 degrees on Saturday, the day this happened.  I can't imagine tooling around town, stopping for errands, with any kind of animal in the car.  It makes me think of the woman who left her ex-husband's dog in the car while she shopped in Costco and when she came out the dog had died a heat-related death.  She had the nerve to go back into Costco (after seeing the dog she fought her ex tooth and nail for lying dead) to return the dog food because she no longer needed it!  She even told the employee what had happened, that person then notified the authorities.  A friend posted that story on Facebook a while back and it really stuck with me.  Apparently, she didn't love the dog but her ex really did and somehow she won that battle (I cried like a fiend reading that sad story and the ex-husband's side of it).  Of course Facebook being the medium there were a lot of strange comments and a really heated discussion. 

I like to observe and I find people interesting, even the annoying ones.  I wonder what they are all about and why.  I classify and sometimes "label" (like I just did above), but I try not to judge--I try to discern.  However, in both cases I judge.  Both women have demonstrated self-centered actions, it's just in the Facebook case things did not turn out so well.  At least some Good Samaritan noticed "fresh" lady's dogs and called it in before it was too late.  At least she made it back to her car before it was too late.  We often say that's never too late, but this one of the rare instances where it potentially could be.

An Unintentional Dog Fest!

Yesterday, the boys & I were out running errands, one of which was going to Michael's.  Since we had to pick up stuff for the "Loving Pet Basket" for Max's class, we decided to go to the Colonade where we could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.  Could you really see me killing a bird, or anything for that matter?  It was hot yesterday--it hit the 100 degree mark--and Stuart was whining about not wanting to do anymore errands.  Michael's was our first errand, so you can see where the day might head if I didn't go for a save right then and there.  I said to him, "Maybe we'll get to pet some dogs while we are there."  We love that & I was hoping to motivate him enough so we could check this to-do off our list.  As we round the corner, I see a sandwich board with the most wonderful three words on it--Pet Adoptions Today!  Squeal with delight--we'll be able to say "hi" to dogs and get it out of our system.  The thing is, we fell in absolute love with three of the dogs.  One, however, wasn't for adoption.  He was being fostered until his mom got out of rehab and found a place to live.  That dog was a taller version of Trigger.  When I went to pet him he was all lovey.  At one point he slipped his head under my arm and laid his head on my chest while I petted him.  I about died.

However, the first dog we saw was a pure bred white and tan pitbull.  Max was in love with that one, Parker.  He was so loving and easy-going.  Max was one the floor with him, petting him and Parker was practically snuggling with him.  He rolled over on his belly and used Stuart's foot as a pillow, while telling Stuart & me to rub his head, while Max rubbed his belly.

Since we were at Petsmart to shop, we looked and talked some more with the adoption people and then went off to get things for the basket.  But, when we came back there was another dog who had just come back from being outside.  I asked about her & we got to pet her and hear her story.  Her name is Sweetness and she is even more mellow than Parker!    She just had pups who were all adopted.  Both dogs are in foster homes with multiple dogs and do well with them.  In fact Parker was attacked by another dog and didn't fight back.

Since Jon was on call I wasn't going to bring home a dog--Surprise!--without having him meet it first.  When we got home and the boys were doing crafts, I ran to their website http://www.valleydogs.org/ and looked up these fine animals.  I also read Sirius's story and fell in love with him, too.

Those of you who know us, weigh in.  What do you think?  Read their stories!

http://www.valleydogs.org/parker.html



http://www.valleydogs.org/sweetness.html

http://www.valleydogs.org/sirius.html