Okay stopping now...

After you watch this of course:

And Then Sometimes It's So Easy

Why can't it always be like this?? Word of mouth brought me someone that wanted a one-page brochure style website. I met with the potential client, who had no real design suggestions, other than they wanted something simple and affordable. I contracted with them, they give me half up-front, and within two days I have a mock up of a website to propose. They love it. A day later I have it completed and they are totally happy. The next day they send me final payment. Done... Tah Dahhh... Why can't it ALWAYS be this easy???

http://www.commercialsweeping.net

Goodbyes...Memories...Something Like That.

This evening my Mom and I went through my Nana's jewelery box. Nana loved jewels. Some of her favorites were worn often and as we pulled each item out of the curio I could picture her wearing them. As we gazed upon the various rings, necklaces, and earrings I envisioned them on her hands, neck and ears. It was a very odd feeling. A reminder that she's gone but something for us to hold on to as a memory of her. Coming "home" and her not being here is equally strange. Living away I could pretend that she (and Gramps) were still here alive and well. But when I'm home and they're not here it's painfully clear that they're gone. I miss them a lot! I know it's all a part of life, but we still try to make ourselves believe that we, along with our parents, grandparents, siblings, have forever on this planet. And we don't. One thing I can say is they knew I loved them. I told them frequently. I'm so thankful for that. And I'm so glad that I was lucky enough that my grandparents all lived long enough for me to know them long into my adult life. But I still miss them!

Happy May Day!

With my laptop currently burning my thighs, the wind chimes tinkle in the yard at the behest of a warm breeze that finds its way through the windows, papers (including bills, invoices for those that actually owe ME money and business related documents) are strewn at my feet, a plate from my morning toast stacked upon another plate which held my lunch - reheated pizza - adorn the coffee table next to an empty iced tea glass, General Hospital as background noise because it doesn't distract me while it mixes with the sounds of the clothes dryer -- an honest attempt at catching up on the laundry on my day off of school-- it dawns on me... It's May Day!!! Happy May Day everyone!!!

Honey Update

A few days after my last post regarding Honey the adorable girl mutt that found her way on to my front porch and decided to stay, I was woken up at what felt like 3a.m. but was more like 1a.m. It seems Honey (whom I had noticed was taking to territorial growlings and barks at strangers) had been outside barking incessantly. I didn't hear this because my bedroom air cleaner seems to drown out all outside noises. It took the door bell ringing and a uniformed officer to bring this to my attention.

"Do you own a blond dog?"
"Uhhh it's not my dog - she showed up here a few days ago and I gave her some food and water and she hasn't left".
"Well then she's your dog".
"Well, I had planned on taking her to The Haven (which is a local no kill shelter) this weekend..."
"She's been barking and we've had a few complaints"
(I'm told this is what they always say and more than likely it was my immediate neighbors. --Never mind their children are current screaming and yelling in the back yard and interrupting my work for the better part of the day.)
"Does she come in the house?" he asked.
"No I have bad allergies." (Not to mention she's probably in need of a flea bath, but more importantly, if I brought her into my home I'd probably keep her forever).
He paused and I said "What should I do?"
"Take her to The Haven tomorrow".
Mind you him being there was causing her to bark even more so I'm sure the neighbors were even more thrilled. And her barking was causing every other dog in the hood to yap. So I put her in the garage and kept her shut in. I figured the worse thing is I have a mess to clean up in the morning. Then I slept on the sofa so I could hear if she started barking or wimpering.

The next day I took her to The Haven. Unfortunately they are not accepting large dogs right now because they don't have the room and they're expensive to feed. When I heard this I literally fought off tears. I haven't had a good past twelve months in the world of animals so this was hitting a nerve. The good news is, she was wanded and she has a chip!!! We find out that she belongs to the Fayetteville ASPCA. The nice lady at The Haven called and the Fayetteville ASPCA has no record of the dog. It's their chip but they have no idea. The chip company has on record that the chip belonged to FASPCA but that it was signed out to someone else and then brought back to FASPCA. The Haven thinks that maybe Honey was fostered out. But they asked if I could bring Honey in and of course I said yes. I wanted nothing more than Honey to be reunited with her owner and/or found a nice home. Cuz she's a great dog!

When I get to the Fayetteville ASPCA the woman I spoke to initially had no idea what I was talking about but after explanation something seemed to register. I had to fill out a bunch of forms... "What's her name?" I dunno but I've been calling her Honey bun... ??? "What type of dog?" Again I have no idea. "How old is she?" Uhhh not my dog I don't know... It was kind of done at a hurried pace as they were closing in ten minutes and of course I'm feeling like I have no choice but to bring Honey here since a) she belongs to them and b) I can't have the cops coming back to my door. So as I'm filling out the paperwork I see that I am signing away my right to adopt a dog in the future from the Fayetteville ASPCA because I'm surrendering "my dog". I ask about this of course, because she's not MY dog... but apparently by law, after a certain period of time of taking care of an animal they become yours... Interesting. Oh and Fayetteville ASPCA doesn't take "strays". Okay.... So I sign this and after the fact become really annoyed. THEY lost track of this dog. It showed up on my door step. I took care of her. I did all the right things. But you make it look like I am the loser failing this animal. WTF???

I tried to call and get an update on her - I get an answering machine and no one returns my calls. How nice.

Am I St. Francis?

Last Friday - One week after losing Smokey, a mysterious dog shows up. She looks vaguely familiar and I think she's the one that attempted to eat Smokey's food last fall and Smokey gave her a bloody nose for his trouble. While Smokey was here most animals stayed out of the yard. He was a pretty good watch cat -- Rarely getting in fights but often giving warnings to would be trespasser animals.

Now, you might ask if it's possible that this dog was the reason for Smokey's untimely death. While anything is possible, I have to say with complete certainty that she's not. First of all she has no marks on her other than an old scar on her nose (Which is what led me to believe she's the one that Smokey gave the bloody nose to those many months ago.). She's very docile. She doesn't seem to have an interest in cats other than to perk her ears when they fight nearby. The attention she gives to other dogs is mostly an incessant butt sniffing. She's only shown her teeth once to a dog that was a bit jumpy during one of these greetings. And Gerry even picked her up off the ground. If she was going to bitch at anything, it should have been that. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So this yellow lab/sheppard mix dog shows up last Friday. She's very sweet, I give her a piece of ham and say hello. Then I sit at my kitchen counter with the laptop to do work. She spends the rest of the day looking in at me through the kitchen window while camped out on the front porch. I go out to get the mail and I say hello and pet her. She grants me with some prancing and a wagging tail, followed by a little whimper as I sit back down at the counter and she resumes her vigil. Gerry came home from work around 9:30 p.m. and she greeted him with caution before wagging her tail and giving love. Figuring she must be hungry we give her a slice of pizza and some water. I worry that she's not going to go home and I put a blanket on the front porch because it's a chilly night. Gerry's mom named her Bowser because we thought she was a boy. After further inspection (Privacy be damned.) we find that she's in fact a girl.

Upon awaking the next morning she's still here. We start to call her "Blondie" before I decide that's too superficial sounding and Blondie then becomes "Honey". Honey chases the car as we go to get something to eat on Saturday. It had been raining and we left the garage open with some blankets. We came home around 8pm and Honey wasn't here. At this point we figure she's gone. I close the garage door when heading off to bed. Gerry discovered her on the front porch and opened the garage for her around 1 a.m.

By now we've assumed that she HAS to be a stray. But who would abandon such a beautiful dog. Sunday morning she's still on the front porch. She again chase the car as far as she can before heading back to the driveway. She continues this behavior anytime we both leave. If one of us remains behind she'll stay on the front porch. She knows the meaning of the commands "Sit" and "No", so she's at least had some sort of training. She's friendly and loving. Though she's cautious and a bit skittish over loud unexpected sounds. I could jump to all kinds of conclusions over that trait. Was she abused? She doesn't seem to have any evidence other than being skinny because she'd been abandoned. I ask neighbors and no one seems to know where she came from. So did someone dump her off. Did someone move and leave her behind?

It's now been four days. Honey is still camping out on the front porch with lots of blankets (I gave her the option of the garage but she seems to prefer the front door (Probably because that's the door we use the most). We've continued to feed and give her water and at this point I believe she's officially my responsibility and I plan to make a valiant attempt at finding her a new home and if not, take her to the no-kill shelter. Unfortunately I cannot keep her - aside from just not being ready for another animal in my life after the loses of the past year, there are other extenuating circumstances.

Know anyone looking for a really great dog -- before I become any more attached than I already am???

A Memorial to Smokey

I have a soft spot for animals. This is no secret. Certainly, when Outdoor Kitty aka Smokey or Smokey Smoke, found his way into my life last year it wasn’t long before he also wormed his way into my heart. I was never a cat person. Mostly because I am highly allergic to them and I knew that I couldn’t have them in my home. Of course Id’ make a bee line for my friends’ cats, giving them pets and love. And I wasn’t above giving food, water and affection to the strays or other outdoor cats that wandered into my yard. In general, I don’t believe in having outdoor pets, so I went against my better judgment when Smokey came along. His options were the no-kill shelter, where he would certainly be miserable, or here on this large plot of land away from any major roads. The garage was his initial home with plans of putting him in the upstairs bonus room on really cold nights.

I’m not exactly sure when it happened that Smokey came to be more of an indoor cat than an outdoor cat. I do know that I couldn’t seem to let him spend the colder winter days outside – Regardless of the fact that the garage stayed pretty warm. My initial thought was, have him in the hardwood area of the house, keep him off of the sofa where I sit, and remember to take my Allegra and Flonase daily! He never seemed to spend his nights upstairs though, since the door didn’t fully latch and he’d push it open before wandering into my bed. I didn’t seem to mind waking up with him next to my pillow or having him sit next to me on the couch, despite my eyes watering and the inability to breathe through my nose. I could almost hear my doctor shouting in my ear “This is not good for your lungs! There will be long term repercussions!” but I didn’t have the heart to shoosh him away.

Upon waking in the mornings he’d want outside to “make his rounds” and then he’d scratch on the door to come back in for food. Not long after he’d scratch on the door to go outside and do his business. In between inside and outside he’d sit near me “perking” and was more like a dog than any cat I’d ever seen. In fact he even growled at strangers or people I didn’t like. I grew to love the way he’d set his paw on my knee or arm when looking for a treat and how he’d sit on the side of the tub looking for water while taking a bath. (A large jar lid would be used to offer him warm water from the tap which he loved). If I was outside washing the car or doing yard work he’d hang out by my side. Seldom did he ever leave the property and on those rare occasions he didn’t go far. He’d venture to the edge of the field across our road and into our woods in the back yard. But usually he’d come when we call, or at the very least when we shook his treat bag.

Sadly Smokey-Smoke left us the Friday before last. He went out for his rounds early in the morning and didn’t come home. He was found later in the woods having died by some mysterious means (Though evidence points to a fight with another cat). He was buried in the woods with a blanket, treats and his toy mouse.

Out of the Loop

I know I've been out of the loop for the past month and a half. A lot of crappy stuff has been going on. First of all my Nana passed away the day before Christmas. A week and a half ago Outdoor Kitty, aka Smokey was found dead in the back yard woods. He died two weeks to the day before the anniversary of Kelsey's death (My beloved Shih Tzu puppy of 15 years). In between all of this I got slammed with work (Some of which I have yet to be paid for dang it! -Nothing like feeling like you're working for free!). Couple that with classes and house work and another stray dog having found it's way into my life and I've been busy, depressed, stressed and confused. Though busy tends to out weigh everything and keep me from thoughts of jumping from the nearest high place! More posts will follow - I've actually been writing a couple of things -Catharsis is good um hummm.

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone ! A GUIDE FOR YOU FOR ST PATRICK'S DAY IRISH BEER TROUBLESHOOTING GUIDE SYMPTOM CAUSE CORRECTIVE ACTION Feet cold and wet Glass Being held at incorrect angle. Rotate glass so that open end points toward ceiling Feet warm and wet Improper Bladder Control Stand next to nearest dog, complain about lack of house training Beer unusually pale and tasteless a. Glass empty. b. You're holding a Coors Lite Get someone to buy you another beer Opposite wall covered with fluorescent lights You have fallen over backward. Have yourself lashed to the bar Mouth contains cigarette butts, back of head covered with ashes You have fallen forward See above Beer tasteless, front of your shirt is wet a. Mouth not open b. Glass applied to wrong part of face Retire to restroom, practice in front of mirror Floor Blurred You are looking through bottom of empty glass Get someone to buy you another beer Floor moving You are being carried out Find out if you are being taken to another bar Room seems unusually dark Bar has closed Confirm home address with bartender. If staff is gone, grab a six-pack to go and hit the nearest fire escape door. Run. Taxi suddenly takes on colorful aspect and textures Beer consumption has exceeded personal limitations Cover mouth, open window, stick head outside Everyone looks up to you and smiles You are dancing on the table Fall on someone cushy-looking Beer is crystal-clear It's water! Somebody is trying to sober you up Punch him People are standing around urinals, talking You're NOT in the ladies' room Do not use urinal! Excuse yourself, exit and try the next door down the hall. Try to get phone numbers before exiting (optional) Hands hurt, nose hurts, mind unusually clear You have been in a fight Apologize to everyone you see, just in case it was them Don't recognize anyone, don't recognize the room you're in You've wandered into the wrong party See if they have free beer Your bedroom is painted gray, has a concrete floor and an interesting steel door. Toilet may be conveniently located next to your bunk a. You're in jail b. You're in the navy Sleep it off, you can always get out tomorrow. Don't talk to your new roommate, and under no circumstances sleep on your stomach You are dancing to a Village People song, and your partner is wearing leather chaps You're in a gay bar Keeping your back to the wall, edge toward nearest exit. Do not accept offers for back rubs Your singing sounds distorted The beer is too weak Have more beer until your voice improves Don't remember the words to the song Beer is just right Play air guitar

Memories of Nana

I’m one of those rare people to have the opportunity not only to know my grandparents, but have them in my life long into adulthood. Each of my grandparents served as surrogate parents to my self and my siblings. They all had their roles. Grandma as the nurturer that would take anyone in at any time, no reservations required and no complaints. We’d say “There’s always room for one more at Grandma’s place”. My Grandpa, the tickler, was our play buddy. Very seldom would you hear a stern word from his lips. Instead there would be jokes, gentle taunts and a wonderful belly laugh. Now Gramps (my other Grandpa) was the epitome of proper British culture. His accent still strong after over 30 years of living in the States, he had his own sense of humor. He was quite, gentle and kind. Gramps infused religion into the mix and taught me the importance of hard work, Kung Foo, Kojack and the simple pleasures found in a comfy chair.

Nana on the other hand, while certainly fun and caring, was often tough love. She didn’t take any crap and told you exactly what she was thinking, whether you wanted to hear it or not.--Though most times it was what you NEEDED to hear. So it should come as no surprise that while we saw butterflies at Gramps’ funeral, we saw a bumble bee at Nana’s.--Beautiful and instrumental but willing to sting you if you get out of line. Nana inspired us all to expect more from ourselves--To strive towards something better. In and amongst her lessons were these valuable tidbits:

There’s nothing quite like a good foot scrubbing: Despite giggles and screams emitted during the torturous tickling, I’d always plead for more when the “agony” ceased.--And don’t forget to scrub behind those ears, we don’t want cauliflower growing!

A swimsuit, also known as a swim costume (or “cozzie” for short) is acceptable attire under any outfit – Because you never know when you might find the chance opportunity to worship the sun. And work can always be coupled with play: Get the beach house tub scrubbed and run the Hoover on those carpets, and down to the sea we will go!

Some of the best cuisine will never be listed on a five-star restaurant menu: Potato Chip and Butter Sandwiches, Banana and Butter Sandwiches, Eggs and Soldiers (soft-boiled eggs with the tops cut off and buttered bread cut in strips perfect for dipping), Sheppard’s Pie, Mashed Potatoes Topped with Ground Beef and Gravy and a side of Peas (which usually wound up all mixed together – Some call this Poor Mans Sheppard’s Pie), Yorkshire Pudding (Heavenly!), and to wash it all down, a Shandy (Ginger Ale and Beer mixed half and half in a glass – also good for tummy aches).

There is only one way to enjoy a horror flick: The film must be frightening enough to scare the pants off of you. (Like “Visiting Hours” which left me attempting to sleep curled up on her bathroom floor with the lights turned on because I was sure the slasher was going to come out of the closet!). This type of thing makes you braver you know.

Hurricanes can be fun: Like sitting in a Florida style mobile home, listening to the wind rattle the siding and windows while rain pelted down like pennies on a tin roof and tree tops bent towards the ground.

How to set a proper table including lessons on which eating utensil is used for what: salad fork, dinner fork, desert fork... And exactly why was there a different utensil for each dish? (Did you know that real silver will hold the taste of food until they are washed? Picture eating pickled something or other with the same fork you’re about to use for cheese cake… ICK!--Now Nana taught you something too!)

Always speak proper English:

Say “Please” and “Thank you.”

It’s “Pardon Me?”, not “Huh?” or “What?”.

“Who’s SHE? The cat’s Mother?” – Always use proper names!

Presents are fun to give AND receive. Squeeze, shake, rattle, sniff, listen and if you get a private opportunity, pull up the corner a bit and see if it reveals anything. Then, as soon as you’re allowed, rip into that paper like your life depends on it. Be sure to place the bow on your head during this process.

There’s nothing quite like the cuddle of a soft teddy bear or the beauty of fresh flowers in the garden.

Shopping is a religion.

The Macarana can be fun! In fact when you saw Nana shaking her groove thing to that song in her advanced years, you couldn’t help but clap and sing along in encouragement! Some were even brave enough to join in!

This is just a taste of the wonder that was Nana. After her memorial, my mother, sister and myself were talking in the loft. The little Christmas tree with sea shells still sat on the table and the presents my brother and I had shipped down for Nana remained underneath. I handed my gift to my sister and offered, “Would you like to keep this as a memento to remember Nana?” “What is it?” she asked. At that moment, the video for The Macarana began to play on the television. Yes, Nana found a way to shout: “Oooh! Open it! What’s inside?” a brilliant reminder that while she’s missed terribly, she’s still very much a part of our lives.

Puppy

I was sitting on my couch and saw a woman walking a dog past the window... Wait...that's puppy!!! Awww! I kidna miss the little stinker. But no, I like my sleep too much. And my things.

Demon Dog - Not Ready for a Puppy

I came home from a job to find the cutest little puppy wandering out of my partially closed garage. It was a particularly cold day so I immediately dropped everything, picked up the puppy and took her into the house. As I tried to guess where she may have come from, I went back outside to collect my purse. In that short span of time "puppy" had already tore an ornament off of my Christmas tree. I expected to hear someone calling for her or going door to door to find her. I mean this is a PUPPY after all... You'd think someone would be missing it. Not a peep. I figured I'd wait out the night and if they didn't come, on the morning I'd start calling shelters to find out if someone inquired of her whereabouts before going door to door myself - even put up some posters. My big fear was that someone bought the puppy for their child and decided she was too much work and took her for a ride.

The reason I started to believe this was evidenced by the hole in the shin area of my pants, the little red scratches and nip bites on my arms, legs and even tummy, and the fact that I literally couldn't let this little baby out of my site for a second without her getting into something or tearing something apart. No, not my shoe... No, leave my computer cord alone! Hey! Those are my glasses! Put the remote DOWN.

By 10:00 p.m. I realized no one was going to come for the puppy. I called my friend Stacey telling her all about how cute this little thing was as I listened to her telling me that I CAN make space in my life for a new puppy. I called Cristy and her opinion was "This is why I adopt adult dogs" as I attempted to have a conversation with her between shouts of "No" and "Hey" and "Ouch" depending on the actions of this little possessed being.

Needless to say I was unable to get any sleep overnight. While I did implement a crate, which ensured I was able to have 15 minute naps here and there, but for the most part, Puppy wanted loving, playing, and taken out to eat the frozen grass (She's teething).

By 10:00 a.m. I decided to take the puppy door to door (Unshowered, bags under my eyes and all). I made it to the first house to be told they have no idea where the puppy belongs. At this point I noticed a note on the corner stop sign. Success! I dialed the number and puppy and family were reunited with wagging tails and "I missed you"s. Oh did I mention it's a pit bull? Explains a bit of the demon dog side!

To save my belongings I had taken out some of Kelsey's toys. I used her leash to walk the puppy to it's home. Unfortunately I had to then put all this stuff away, feeling like I was saying goodbye to Kelsey all over again.

I still miss Kelsey so much. And NO, I am NOT ready for a puppy!