Maybe we should have named him Stanley Hans

When Rocco the Wonder dog was a puppy, he lived in this odd puppy store where all the pups were together in pens in the floor and would rollic and frolic and all that stuff puppies do. Rocco the wonder dog was picked on by the other puppies all the time which is why the ex girlfriend chose him. The other puppies wouldn't even let him eat till they were done and so Rocco has a passion for food. Today he has topped all of the weird, watermelon, grapes, broccoli eats of his and not only ate but ASKED for the plate with the SAUERKRAUT on it! And he ate it all! Younger son says that sauerraut keeps you from getting bird flu so I suppose Rocco won't be sprouting feathers any time soon.

When I say that rocco asks, that is just what he does. If he wants something, he gets our attention and then does his damnedest to make us understand what he wants. If it's reachable he butts it with his nose, if not, he stares at whatever it is occasionally shooting looks at us to see if we are getting it or not. Even more remarkable, he won't eat something unless you say he can. I think that the reason why he doesn't steal is that we share things with him, so he knows he'll get it if he's simply charming enough. And for a dog who brings to mind Scooby Doo with those half folded ears, he can be charming. Just ask his girlfriend Eloise Matilda (nee stuffed gorilla).

Rocco eats spaghetti too so I guess the name will stick. Rocco the Wonder dog!

The nicest woman in the world.

Paying it forward does work even when you weren't planning for it.
Older son is back to laying carpet and he said that, today they met the nicest woman in the world. She gave each of them a bottle of water, made them ham sandwiches for lunch with a beer and at the end of the day gave them each a $10.00 tip. And then older son stopped for a moment and said that it was like me and the guys who installed our pool. I did the same except we had koolaid and I didn't do it for pay back but itis nice to know that sometimes you really do seem to pay it forwARD.

Earlier in the day we were in WalMart ugh and I was looking for a sketch book for myself when I got cornered by a rather flustered mother asking me what a pad of drawing paper was. Huh? Wha? How about a pad of paper that says drawing paper? She wanted to know if it was computer paper, then tracing paper, then news print and I kept trying to help but she wasn;t listening just muttering something about drawing paper. I ade my escape only to have her corner someone else with the question of drawing paper. My answer was there was none since all of that kind of stuff as well as the sketch book spots were empty. This Walmart sucks at stocking their shelves and will probably be out of sketch books etc till after Christmas.
But drawing paper lady is probably like the flying dutchman, forever patrolling the Walmart aisles instead of the seas uttering the plaintive cry of drawing paper, is this drawing paper. A pad of drawing paper.

Sigh

annonymous commenter

Please tell V how sorry I am to hear about Mollie. Thanks.

Plus

The husband had his birthday last week and he is offically a plus as is 60+. Which means, he's not the skinny young kid I first married. In fact, the other day, while he was futzing with putting air in his car tires it hit me that he was becoming a little old man. The kind of 'god love him' little old man. Only he doesn't see himself as such. Then I got to wondering, if he really IS a little old man. I mean he doesn't wear black socks and dress shoes with his shorts, nor does he hike his pants up till they look as if they start right below the armpits and gives the wearing a peculiar Humptey Dumptey kind of look. Nor does the husband use the flip up sunglass things on his glasses, or stand, mouth open and oblivious in the smack dap center of a supermarket aisle forcing everyone else to wait till he decides to move on. While the sons refer to him as 'The Old Fart' he sees those his age or older as old farts.

Now the husband isn't totally oblivious to the advance of years even if he does call his liver spots, freckles. REALLY BIG FRECKLES... but freckles none the less and, The Husband, repeatedly finds some old guy in the mirror each morning, one the old lady that's in my mirror goes away.

We've been married forever and while it hasn't always been smoothe we have stuck together as if with a crazy glue. I think er even ended up raising each other. So I guess I'll keep the Old Plus but I have no intention of stopping my teasing of him, reminding him that he is a whole FOUR YEARS older than me. After all, he IS the Old Fart and don't you forget it.

Why toddler in Tiaras

I like to watch the show toddlers in tiaras and listen to the rather unattractive mothers try to convince themselves and us that their 2 year old loves to dress up in rhinestones and spray on tans and parade in front of strangers. And usually, tho I try to be cynical, I enjoy watching the mothers root for their daughters and tell them they are wonderful except for tonight. Tonight the show depressed the hell out of me.
It had to do with a skinny, talk through her nose, bucktoothed sort of woman who brought to mind some nibbling rodent. Or maybe she wasn't that bad but her appearance was colored by what went on.
This rabbity woman had twins, competing against each other. The so called pretty daughter and then the other one. Now I was an unattractive child, something my mother never let me forget as if I set out to be unattractive just to piss her off. Rabbity woman had her obvious favorite to the point where I wanted to reach into the tv and slap her stupid. Daughter B was the favored one, daughter A could do nothing right. It was obvious in the way the mother treated them, spoke to tem, and dressed them. Daught B had a glitzy dress all rhinestones and poufs. Daughter A had a rhinestone gown with a torn and draggling ruffle that rabbity woman firstlaid such a guilt trip on her for it being torn, going so far as to say the girl couldn't use any of the other dresses in the closet because they blonged to sister B. Mom promised to sew draggling hem onl y to forget and the kid goes to the pagent with a draggling hem that was cut away. By the end of the night daughter A's hair looked like a rat's nest. Meanwhile daughter B is a brat and dad finally steps in and drags her out of the pagent and that is that. So daughter A wins this trophy as 3rd runner up and mom is shocked because this daughter is such a loser.... you don't have to hear those words, it's obvious and then daughter A wins this big trophy for trying her best and doing her best when I swear it really was a you are breaking my heart kind of trophy, Mom is even more shocked and at the end when daughter A is saying how she won, daughter B insists that she won and not her sister because her mother told her so. It's a wonder I didn't throw something at the screen, And now I feel as if I should do something, but what? I know what this mother is doing to this poor child and I want to stop it but how. Maybe the father will see this episode and put an end to things or, and this is a long shot, mom will see her behavior and be outraged with it. Yes I know TV shows like this are edited but A's body language made me want to cry. The damage mothers can inflict.

Whew! Needed to get that out!

Oh and I would rather be known as the smart one than the pretty one any day. But the jury is still out on that one.

At the risk of being a perfect bitch

I am going to continue the thread and ask that my usual viewers skip this post.
You see, there is someone who periodicly claims I am a stalker and then leaves annonymous comments with no way for me to rebut them because she is too cowardly to leave her email.
THis is for her.. She who claims she does not read my blog and got all bent out of shape to learn that I read hers. She has herself smeared all over the internet and gets upset when someone stumbles across her.
A number of years ago, she inserted herself into my life. I was trying to do a random act of kindness and instead I was saddled with her but since I saw her only once a year I thought I would offer that up as penance for any of the wrongs I had done in my life (catholic you know guilty about everything). So I put up with it for a number of years and then she insisted that I visit her in her mouse hole for yet another convention in her neck of the woods BUT she didn't have the money for the convention and so I lent her $300.00. I offered it as a gift but she insisted it was a loan. All of this she will deny because that is this mouse's habit. She twists things and remembers them wrongly and then gets onher high horse as the injured party. Soon after this loan, I was suddenly a liar, I was this and that and she wanted nothing to do with me. So I waited for repayment and waited and since she changed her email I couldn't contact her, my letters asking for payment fell into some void and so I would checvk the web periodicly trying to find her and get my money back.

And so because I read her blog, I was a stalker.

SO Valerie.... where is the money you owe me? What a convenient memory you have and how you twist things so that you are as pure as the driven snow. Well some snow is yellow as you know. And I know about your father from what YOU TOLD ME. Otherwise how would I know that he died homeless after you threw him out of your home?

AND Miss mouse do you know how disgusted I was when you told me that you thought the kid who played Harry Potter was HOT when he waas only about 12 at the time? I've thought about not doing kindnesses for people, look at you and my kindness to you, but you know something... I still do kindnesses and I will do you a kindness now. I forgive you. I forgive your insanity, your inappropriate comments and the money you owe me. I hope it brings you much joy but, somehow I doubt it. I think Frank is better off without you.

At the risk of being a perfect bitch

You know who

Now I know you will blab this to you know who and it must be said that the so called nasty posts I send to she who thinks she is all that but isn't was a comment asking if she couldn't have decided to divorce her husband BEFORE she moved to Florida and where was the money she's owed me for 7 years.

Oooooh nasty nasty nasty.

Also ask her HOW she treated the father she now claims she mourns. Her father who died homeless.

Now back to our regularly scheduled program

How's life?
I go back to the office tomorrow after a stay at home vacation. You would think that with all the people losing their homes we'd be swamped for business but it is a hard road to travel and I'm lucky to still HAVE my home. Funnily I had all the same symptoms today that I usually have when we do come home from being away, sadness as if Summer could last forever but doesn't. I also experience a sense of fear but I don't know where that comes from.

One vacation I nearly lost my mind on a Friday night and was in such a state that it actually frightened the husband. I was keyed up for the remainder of the vacation and on the way home on Sunday, while crossing over the Bay Bridge, I suddenly said... Oh we were robbed, I can deal with that.

When we got home the first thing the sons told us was that we HAD been robbed that Sunday evening when the sons and the kid living with us were out. They were still in the neighborhood just not in the house. So I never know if what I feel is what a fell or if there is some psychic reason behind it. Or maybe all of the years coming home from vacation and not knowing what the rest of the summer would bring. The husband has apologised for all the years of semi poverty but I know he tried his best and so i can't fault him.

So it's back to the salt mines tomorrow and lets hope the Husband and I don't end up killing each other before the day is done.

One more story... just one, I swear.

Once upon a time many years ago when we were newlyish married and living in an apartment the husband comes home from his part time job and doesn't fine me in the apartment. So he jumps to the most logical conclusion that someone broke in, killed me and hid my body in THE DISHWASHER!!! Yep, isn't that what everyone would think. Even before babies I wouldn't have fit in a dishwasher unless perfectly folded but how many killers do you know you can do origami? The husban eventually figured out that A) there was no signs of a breakin or blood B) there WAS no body in the dishwasher (he checked) and 3) since purse and jacket were in the apartment that I must BE somewhere in the building and so he crept from door to door until he heard my voice and was convinced that I hadn't been murdered and stuffed into a dishwasher someplace. Talk about leaping to conclusions. He leaps right past them and into the realm of WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING?