Category Archives: Splashes

Happy Birthday, Maximus

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Max, age five

Oh, my dearest doggy, you are FIVE years old today. That’s middle-aged for a breed like yours, a breed we think is pointer/boxer, but could be most anything, really.

How well I remember that windy day in February, 2009 when we met your then-tiny little self. You were ten weeks old, and I kept telling Fuzzy we didn’t want a puppy, but he thought your black and white fur looked like your sister Cleo’s, and we knew Zorro didn’t have much more time with us.

I remember how Fuzzy snapped your picture through the bars of your crate at PetCo, and said, “Come see this puppy,” and I remember how the first time I picked you up you gnawed on my neck until you finally fell asleep in my arms.

I remember when you were so small you slept in a cat bed, and so tiny you couldn’t climb the stairs. You used to pick up Cleo’s leash and make her follow you around the house. You weren’t quite certain of what to do with Zorro, but he left us a week after you came. I think he waited to be sure you were right for us.

We didn’t always get along, my Maxi-taxi. You were my first big dog, and I had to learn a whole new language with you. It wasn’t until you were three months old that I knew we’d be alright. You’d escaped from your crate, and even though Fuzzy’s side of the bed was closer, you came right to me, and put your cold wet nose in my hand. I knew, then, that you were MY dog, just like Zorro and Cleo had been. Perry had joined us by then, but he’s never as obvious about who his people are as you always have been.

In the first year of your life, you ate rocks and razor blades, water bottles, entire pairs of Keds, and more paper towels than I care to count. Once, I even found you chewing on the side of the house! I was convinced something you’d swallowed would lacerate your esophagus or perforate your intestine, but except for allergies, you’re remarkably healthy.

And now you’re five years old, and the quiet gentleman of the house, except when you do your post-dinner show, roo-ing and galloping up and down the hall.

I love that you wake up half an hour before you really need to go outside, just so you can come into the bed with me and snuggle while Fuzzy showers. I love your raspy-tongued kisses, and the way you can eviscerate a squeaky toy in five minutes, then carry the empty fleece carcass around for months.

I love that every night when I go to bed to read, you come and curl up with me. I love that you’re patient with your adopted brother Tedasaurus Rex, even though he had the nerve to grow taller than you, and that you make the foster brothers and sisters who rotate through your life feel like part of the pack.

I love the way you, my 80-pound darling, can manage to get lost in our postage stamp of a back yard, and I love that you still think an empty paper towel roll is the best toy ever.

I love the way you’ll chase a ball til it stops, then turn around and give me that look that means, “If you’d wanted it back you should have adopted a retriever,” and I love that even though you’re a gentle giant of a dog, you have a basso profundo bark that makes me feel safe when I’m alone.

I love that you’re as happy to sit on the deck and just WATCH the birds and squirrels as you are to chase them, and I love that the last thing I hear at night is your deep, restful, doggy breathing.

So, happy fifth birthday, my Max.

You can’t really be called a Monster Pup any more, but in my heart you’ll always be my puppy.

Peeling the Eggplant

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Lollypop Santa

We’ve all heard the story (possibly apocryphal, but it’s a good story so, who cares?) about the woman who was making a roast. Her daughter, watching her, asked, “Mom, why are you cutting the ends off the roast?”

The mother replied that she was doing so because it was the way she learned from her mother, but didn’t know why it made the roast better.
Together, they went to the other room to ask Grandma why the ends were cut off the roast, and the old woman replied that she’d HAD to do it that way, because it was the only way the roast would fit in the pan.

Similarly, those of us who grew up with grandmothers and mothers who peeled eggplant before using it, also peel eggplant. But the thing is, you don’t actually have to peel eggplant for most dishes. Sure, it feels rubbery when it’s raw, but it cooks down fairly well.

Holiday traditions are sort of the same way. Some of them, like the roast, or the eggplant, we do because we always have. I grew up with a butterfly at the top of the Christmas tree, and the first year I had my very own tree, I felt guilty for putting something OTHER than a butterfly up there. Then my husband and I found a lovely quarter-moon ornament and that was our topper in the first years of our marriage.

More recently, as our (fake, plastic, pre-lit) trees have become taller and taller, we’ve had to adjust the topper again. Currently, it’s an angel I bought at Cracker Barrel, but I picked her because she’s got this delicious smirk, as if she knows some great secret.

Sometimes, though, traditions have to be completely new. Since moving to Texas nine years ago (yes, that feels like forever to me, too) we’ve planned Christmas Eve to be our night. Sure, we might go to a Christmas Eve service (or two – because I love midnight mass, so even when we were at UUCOC, we’d still go), but otherwise, we keep the evening low-key.

Christmas Day, however, is all about inviting friends and “chosen family” over for brunch. Everyone gets at least one present to open, and we celebrate with laughter and good food.

I’m sure as we age, we’ll come up with some newer traditions even than those, but whether we spend Christmas with just ourselves, or with other people, whether we peel the eggplant, or not, the entire season will be full of fun and friends and fabulous food.

Today’s Santa: The very young child of a friend dubbed him Lollypop Santa, and the name stuck. He’s from Cracker Barrel. Seriously, sometimes they have great decor.

Holidailies 2013

Thursday 13: Falling for Fall

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Autumn Running from iStockPhoto.com

I haven’t been blogging lately – the need to do so ebbs and flows, and that’s okay – but I woke this morning to the sight of frost on the neighbor’s rooftop, so thought I’d share a list today in the grand old Thursday 13 tradition.

  1. Onomatopoetic Environments: Crunch! go the leaves beneath our feet. Creak! go the trees as they are pushed by the wind. Groan! go the pipes as hot water rushes through them. Hiss! says the heater when we cave in and turn it on.
  2. Sweater Weather: We’ve settled into the time of year when we can wear long sleeves or a light sweater during the day, and bundle into comfy cotton-flannel pajamas in the evening.
  3. De-bugging: Okay, we still have a few mosquitoes here in Texas, but there are fewer of them, and the stragglers are sluggish. If only the fleas would go away, as well.
  4. Cozy Mornings: Birdsong, soft light, whuffling dogs, fresh coffee, oatmeal with craisins, lingering over coffee…
  5. Guilt-free Baths: I might still take bubble baths in summer, but in fall I don’t feel like I have to justify the need to soak in steamy, sudsy, lavender-scented water. Also? I love the tingle on my skin, when I step out of my warm bath and into the chill air of the bathroom.
  6. Frost: Frost counts as a “weather event” here, and we’ve just had our first glimpse of it. I love the way the sun melts it away, oh, so slowly, as warm light replaces cold.
  7. Fall Produce: Yes, our modern society allows us to have squash and apples year round if we really want it, but food tastes best when it’s actually in season. Pumpkins, butternut squash, acorn squash, root vegetables, and apples – fall foods, all.
  8. Soups and Stews: Fall is soup weather. Rainy days, cool nights, and the need for easy lunches all mean that my crockpot gets a workout. A recent favorite? Chicken and sweet potato soup. So delicious.
  9. Quilts: I have no desire to step back in time and live on the prairie with the Ingalls family, but I do love the way a warm quilt doesn’t just serve a purpose, but is also a piece of art. I have books on quilting, and all the required materials, and yet, I never take the leap into making a quilt of my own. Must. Fix. This.
  10. Lamplight: This is a frequent theme with me, but I love the soft light of lamps, as opposed to harsh overhead lighting. I also love streetlamps, and fall is when you get to enjoy deep twilight and glowing streetlights in prime form.
  11. Figure Skating: I’m not a big follower of sports. I’ll watch the occasional baseball or hockey game. I like seeing soccer players in those tiny shorts. But the sports that I actually look forward to are horse racing (in spring) and figure skating. Skate France is on tv this Sunday. Guess what my plans are?
  12. Festivals: I’m a sucker for a good small-town festival, and fall is rife with them. Apple festivals. Pumpkin festivals. Craft fairs. Harvest fests. Even the state fair. Some are cheesy, it’s true, but it’s good to embrace hometown corn once in a while.
  13. Antici…pation: Even without the knowledge that Christmas is creeping ever closer (or we’re creeping closer to it, as the calendar is fixed), fall always fills me with anticipation. For holidays, for seeing family, for favorite foods. For the first local performances of Nutcracker. For the first time I see my breath when I take the dogs out in the morning. For the sense that all of the dying leaves and dwindling greenery isn’t an ending, but a Great Preparation for all the things yet to come in the next week, month, quarter, year.

For more of my thoughts on autumn, check out last week’s Sunday Brunch post, Sunday Brunch: The Light in Autumn over at All Things Girl.

Find a PetSitter, Help A Shelter Dog

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CuddlyMax

This is quick and dirty because it’s Halloween, and I’m hugely busy, but I wanted to share this before the campaign ends tonight.

The folks at DogVacay, a site that helps you find a pet sitter, are providing a meal to a shelter dog for every new sign-up they get during October. They asked me if I’d mention it, and even though I haven’t used their site…yet…I think they offer a great service, and I’m a sucker for anyone willing to help an animal.

Max, Teddy, and Perry think this is pretty cool, especially since they were all shelter dogs, once upon a time, and are also familiar with what it’s like when their humans go away, and they have to stay with a pet sitter (or, more likely, have a sitter stay with them.)

We used to kennel Cleo (RIP) and Zorro (RIP) but switched to sitters years ago because it’s less stressful for the animals, and one less thing we have to remember.

So, check out DogVacay, and sign up today, and feed a shelter dog.

(I was asked if I’d write something, but there was no compensation for doing so…Happy Halloween!)

We All Float Here

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Under the Tub It may be a first world problem, but for someone who styles herself The Bathtub Mermaid, it’s a personal tragedy: my bathtub is broken.

Early last week I was taking a bath, and I overfilled the tub. When I pulled the drain plug to let some water out, instead of just the plug coming up, the whole drain came out of the tub. Upon investigation, we learned that the elbow joint meant to connect the drain to the drainpipe was on the ground under the tub.

We called the home warranty company, and they sent a plumber who said we had to remove the ceramic tile step at the end of the tub. We tried, but there’s no way to do that without breaking into the actual floor. However, when we cut into the drywall half-wall at the back of the tub we saw that the pipe is NOT under the ceramic tile, but under the tub.

So now we’re waiting for the plumber to come back.

Meanwhile, there’s a gaping hole in the fake wall at the end of the tub (Fuzzy has put his dremel case in front of it, so a) I don’t have to see it and b) the dogs won’t explore it and c) no creepy-crawly things emerge from it) but I’ve clearly read too many Stephen King novels, because every time I see the expanse of exposed pipe, or catch a glimpse of the drain hole in my tub, in which the drain fixture currently is not, I keep thinking of Pennywise the Clown from It.

I’m really glad my neighborhood doesn’t have old-style gutters with metal grates, because, as it is, every time I enter my bathroom I hear a filtered version of Tim Curry’s voice growling, “We all float here.”

DCC Fan Days is Coming

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DCC Fan Days

Just a quick update to let people know that I’m covering Dallas Comic Con Fan Days (Website: http://www.scifiexpo.com/DCC/fandays.html) the 4-6 of October. I’ll be doing this in my role of editor-at-large for All Things Girl.

Last year, we attended as ‘just fans’, and I enjoyed it, but I didn’t spend as much time as I wanted to engaging with the actual comicbook (one word, per Stan Lee) artists, so this year my focus will be on that, and on the fan experience in general.

Fall in Love

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couple-with-heart-smiling_by_laskvv-via-istockphoto

An excerpt from a letter to a friend’s daughter:

Fourth, fall in love. Fall in love hard. And often. Enjoy it, because love – real love – is messy and exciting and kinda scary. But don’t get married. At least, don’t get married until you’re over 25, have seen Europe, have lived on your own for at least a year, and have experienced at least one TRULY TRAGIC love affair.

You can hear the whole letter, and a wee bit more in today’s entry for the Dog Days of Podcasting.

Link: DDoP #16 – Unsolicited Advice.

Dog Days of Podcasting: Steeping

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Steeping

I wrote a cafe vignette called “Steeping” yesterday, and recorded it for today’s entry into the Dog Days of Podcasting project.

Here’s an excerpt:

“I can’t believe you lingered here long enough to let espresso go cold, as busy as it is in here today,” Sarah ventured once they were alone again.

“I was working on a poem,” David confessed.

“I had no idea you were a poet. Are you published? Can I read your stuff?”
“I am, when I’m not wearing bike pants and delivering documents around town,” David answered, taking each of her questions in order. “I’ve published a couple pieces here and there,” he continued. “And as to reading it…the stuff I’m working on right now needs to steep a bit.”

“Poems steep?”

“Just like tea,” David said.

You can listen to the whole piece at SoundCloud or click play in the applet below:

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/107408428″ params=”” width=” 100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]

Dog Days of Podcasting

Dog Days of Podcasting: Darmok and Dogs

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Dog Days of Podcasting

This episode really should be called “Swimming with Morgan,” but it’s not. It’s just a ramble. I’m tired and my throat hurts, and it just struck me that if I’d finished any of the three things I had started to write, I would have had a much shorter entry.

Eleven minutes on Darmok and Dogs.

Accompanied by Teddy Bear on the Rawhide Chew, if you hear weird chewing sounds

Listen at SoundCloud or click below:
[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/106974070″ params=”” width=” 100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]

Dog Days of Podcasting: 13 Minutes of Dog Babble

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Dog Days of Podcasting

Tabz suggested I ramble about dogs. Hemingway suggested we should write drunk and edit sober. I’m NOT drunk, but I had a beer with dinner and a benadryl about half an hour ago, so I’m not really as together as I should be, and tonight’s DDoP entry proves it.

I’m skipping the “edit sober” part.

Listen at SoundCloud, or click below:

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/106777526″ params=”” width=” 100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]