Lassie Come Home
Well, the cat (or actually the dog) is out of the bag. As y0u may have previously read, the mountain man and I are the not so proud owners of not one, not two, but three dauschunds. Yep, I was gracious enough to be gifted with two of the little mini hotdogs from a friend who was unable to keep them about six years ago, and I came to this wedded union proudly bearing my tail wagging dowry. Coincidently (I think not), my most handsome groom had bestowed upon his son the same breed of useless (but cute) canine for his confirmation seven years earlier. So we find ourselves today the proud caretakers/slaves to three of the most useless animals on the planet, unless of course your goal is to catch the most squirrels in the woods behind our house. THEN you'd be sitting pretty.
My personal Grizzly Adams, has made it VERY clear that if not for the happiness of two of our three other dependants (the kids), said dogs would long have been banished from the homestead. However, I have seen the big guy "smush" (a snuggle with the dog's head under his chin - a weird foriedn mating ritual?) with our female lassie, and I've long suspected in the case of moutain man that his bark was worse than his bite. Yesterday, we learned the truth.
I returned home from my fabulous (choke, choke) choice of employment around five pm, which at this particular time of year is pitch black on the northeastern seaboard. After a grueling work day (have I mentioned we don't have facebook on the job?-) and my leisure traffic filled commute, I dragged my ass, and my hand bag, and my lunch tote out of my car and into the house. Turning back to hang up my coat in the foyer, I realized the wind had pushed open the door I apparently had not shut securely. Now, our third little pooch, Bruno, is male, but is really the queen of the brood. And she was in no way going out in the dark windy night. Nope. She ran right for her crate and snuggled under a blanket.
The other two dogs, however, have a great heart for wanderlust. They love to run , and were out the door and in the wind before I had turned around. They have bolted before, and let me tell you, for dogs with such short legs, they can really run fast. All this added up to my use of a few expletives while donning my coat and taking off to a late start behind the dogs. Our youngest son was fast behind, and the two of us started out on a search for two small dogs in the black of night-the proverbial needle in a haystack---magnified 100 fold, due to my forgotten eyeglasses, still in my handbag, which I had dropped by the door in my haste. Not a bright move, considering, I should probably have 3 seeing eye dogs when not wearing them.
So, off we went down the block, shouting the names of both runners. Which, by the way, had every dog in the neighborhood barking except the two we were seeking. This was a good thing, though, because we got to see some neighbors we hadn't really seen since the weather got cold. (Nieghbors : "Hi. Looking for those mangy mutts again? Me: "Grunt" followed by more expletive adjectives for the dogs.)
Twenty minutes and our second pass down the block later, Grizzly Adams reports that he, with great foresight, had grabbed a piece of cheese (which is apparently the only thing irresistable to these mud footed monsters), and was able to lure Rusty, our biological female back to the house. She had been in the back woods, apparently hunting for a fridge full of cheese.
He then tells us that he found our littlest (but fastest) member of our canine clan , Mickey, in the garage of a neighbor a few doors down. Apparently, this dog seems to always seek out human company. Lucky , or unlucky as the case may be, our beloved neighbor was plying through his holiday decorations, when confronted with our tail wagging five inch high terror.
So, alas, the dogs were safe, we were near frost bitten, and mountain man grumbled all the way back to the house about those good for nothing, useless mongrels. "I have no care for those damned pests anyhow."
Sure you don't big guy. Oh, and thanks for bringing them back home. That's why we love you. You're so ruff and tough! xoxoxo
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Fire Good
Fire Good Well, a long year's worth of chopping and carting and carrying wood to the basment has finally paid off. We are the proud owners of a wood burning stove. Just this year we upgraded to a larger, more energy efficient unit (www.Englanderwoodstoves.com )in our basement/indoor wood emporium. We have a tremendous wood pile out back, well actually, truth be told, several wood piles. There is the sliced and diced wood stacked neatly on skids behind the garage, waiting to be loaded into our handy all purpose cart for deposit into Wesley's Wonderful Wood Emporium. Then there is the wood that has been split and is positioned all the way to the rear of the yard, drying and seasoning itself for next year's winter. And finally, close to our handy dandy Monster truck of wood splitters, sits huge tree trunks waiting to join the not quite ready for prime time (unseasoned, if you wood/would--haha) waiting to simmer and season for future cold snaps.
It's a tremendous amount of work, this Little House on The Prairie home heating system of ours. We simply don't think of heating and the high cost of oil only when the weather turns to freezing. Nope, not us. We get some of our best tanning (our hides, not those of wild animals--although I guess it's about the same thing, isn't it?) Anyway, we spend oodles of time outside in the summer months splitting and hauling and seperating and squirreling away our winter stash. Think of the ants scurrying around in A Bug's Life- That's us, the prepared ANTZ. Nope, no slackers in THIS ant hill.
Fall finds us hurriedly trying to finish up as much wood storing as we can, before the crisp fall weather turns to finger numbing temperatures. And finally, as winter's brisk breath falls upon us, we are ready to fire away.
The actual lighting of the first fire of the season itself is of great importance in our home. The tradition was passed along to our youngest son this year, who at the ripe old age of eleven, was finally bestowed with the rights to the "clicker" (think bar-b-que lighter), as well as countless hours on how to fill the wood stove, carefully tucking the newspaper around the edges for MAXIMIUM FIRE EFFICIENCY. Tom Hanks in Cast Away was not nearly as proud as our own little fire starter upon the first swoosh of his virgin fire.
Why, you ask, would a family in this day and age, with access to all sorts of modern home heating devices at our disposal, choose to put so much time and energy (and sweat, lots of sweat!) into a task that can be accomplished as easily as turning up a thermostat....
Ahhh, dear reader......This past week we received our first and only oil bill since last January 7, 2008. And do you know what it said? It read that in order to top off our oil tanks for the first time in eleven and a half months the good old oil man had to replenish one hundred gallons of fuel oil, at $2.47 per gallon. Our total annual usage for a family of five was less than $250!!!!!! If you know anything about oil and fuel prices in New York this year, you would certainly realize that THIS WAS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION!
So, after Pa Ingalls and the young-uns and myself finished dancing around the town square leaping for joy, we did the only thing that comes natural to a fuel conscious family such as ourselves....
We took said oil bill, and with much fanfare, we promptly placed it into the wood stove....Burn Baby Burn!
It's a tremendous amount of work, this Little House on The Prairie home heating system of ours. We simply don't think of heating and the high cost of oil only when the weather turns to freezing. Nope, not us. We get some of our best tanning (our hides, not those of wild animals--although I guess it's about the same thing, isn't it?) Anyway, we spend oodles of time outside in the summer months splitting and hauling and seperating and squirreling away our winter stash. Think of the ants scurrying around in A Bug's Life- That's us, the prepared ANTZ. Nope, no slackers in THIS ant hill.
Fall finds us hurriedly trying to finish up as much wood storing as we can, before the crisp fall weather turns to finger numbing temperatures. And finally, as winter's brisk breath falls upon us, we are ready to fire away.
The actual lighting of the first fire of the season itself is of great importance in our home. The tradition was passed along to our youngest son this year, who at the ripe old age of eleven, was finally bestowed with the rights to the "clicker" (think bar-b-que lighter), as well as countless hours on how to fill the wood stove, carefully tucking the newspaper around the edges for MAXIMIUM FIRE EFFICIENCY. Tom Hanks in Cast Away was not nearly as proud as our own little fire starter upon the first swoosh of his virgin fire.
Why, you ask, would a family in this day and age, with access to all sorts of modern home heating devices at our disposal, choose to put so much time and energy (and sweat, lots of sweat!) into a task that can be accomplished as easily as turning up a thermostat....
Ahhh, dear reader......This past week we received our first and only oil bill since last January 7, 2008. And do you know what it said? It read that in order to top off our oil tanks for the first time in eleven and a half months the good old oil man had to replenish one hundred gallons of fuel oil, at $2.47 per gallon. Our total annual usage for a family of five was less than $250!!!!!! If you know anything about oil and fuel prices in New York this year, you would certainly realize that THIS WAS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION!
So, after Pa Ingalls and the young-uns and myself finished dancing around the town square leaping for joy, we did the only thing that comes natural to a fuel conscious family such as ourselves....
We took said oil bill, and with much fanfare, we promptly placed it into the wood stove....Burn Baby Burn!
Monday, December 8, 2008
A New Fan- And a New Task
Fireman John was kind enough to post a comment, as well as a task-- Well, thank you for taking the time to think of me---so, i will certainly take the time to return the favor...
Fireman John asks me to post 10 honest things about me (read his comment on yesterday's post)--- So here goes
1. I don't really like being put on the spot like this.
2. I would rather read and write than talk.
3. My children are my greatest source of pride.
4. My children are my greatest source of angst.
5. My oldest son has been coloring my hair since he's old enough to reach the sink---It's because of him I have grey hair to begin with!
6. I really enjoy blogging and getting comments, even though there is a lot more of the first than the second.
7. Laundry and cleaning are therapy I enjoy, even though I complain all the way through it.
8. I hate being alone.
9. I love making people laugh.
10. I read Fireman John's blog http://www.stopdropandrecover.blogspot/com , even though I am not stopping, dropping, or recovering, I simply like the way he writes.
Anyone else want to be brutally honest today? It's not as easy as you might think!!!!
Fireman John asks me to post 10 honest things about me (read his comment on yesterday's post)--- So here goes
1. I don't really like being put on the spot like this.
2. I would rather read and write than talk.
3. My children are my greatest source of pride.
4. My children are my greatest source of angst.
5. My oldest son has been coloring my hair since he's old enough to reach the sink---It's because of him I have grey hair to begin with!
6. I really enjoy blogging and getting comments, even though there is a lot more of the first than the second.
7. Laundry and cleaning are therapy I enjoy, even though I complain all the way through it.
8. I hate being alone.
9. I love making people laugh.
10. I read Fireman John's blog http://www.stopdropandrecover.blogspot/com , even though I am not stopping, dropping, or recovering, I simply like the way he writes.
Anyone else want to be brutally honest today? It's not as easy as you might think!!!!
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Merry Birthday, Baby...
Well, the holidays are upon us,..Boy, are they coming up quick--And I've spent a good deal of time and money shopping these last few weeks...so far I've gotten new shoes (for me) a new pocketbook (for me), a new outfit (for--yup, you guessed it, for me!)
Actually, it's not as selfish as it sounds --ok, maybe it IS as selfish as it sounds, but I have some inherent holiday issues....
I am a Christmas baby---Not as in Merry Christmas, Baby (thank you, Bruce Springsteen), but as in born not in a manger but on the same calender day....
Oh WOW, says you? An honest to God Christmas baby? Well, that must just be the most wonderful time of the year for a birthday! Isn't that great?
Well, actually, it does present some issues, especially as a precocious(i was) child---
Issue #1 you don't get to make but one wish list a year---anything you wanted as a gift in June was long forgotten by November! Hence, summer play items were usually borrowed from a lucky sister blessed witha June birthday!
Issue #2-(to be shared with anyone with a birthday from September 5th through April 1st-) Pool parties and outside gatherings are definitely off the list!
Issue #3-The old birthday / Christmas gift---usually resulted in a slightly better christmas gift than everyone else, but not really up to par as two seperate gifts. (Is anyone else looking up the number of a good therapist for mysuestories about now?)
Issue #4-That cake served after Christmas dinner, well, we all know that was a last minute afterthought, or at the very least, one more stop at a bakery, that we hope is open on Christmas morning---thank God, that bakery in Island Park (sorry-the name escapes me)--was ALWAYS there for us!!!
Anyway, somewhere along the line, I began to think that Christmas shopping meant getting my birthday/ Christmas gift for myself first to kick off the festivities... It became a ritual....
My birthday would be recognized by myself with a special purchase usually accomplished on my first day of holiday shopping.... Be it a new coat or shoes or handbag...just something to signify MY birthday...not Christmas.
As I got older (Haven't we all?) my priorities leaned more towards my kids, my husband...making someone else feel special on Christmas, well, that was the whole idea of the whole gift giving thing, wasn't it?
Well, the kids are a little older, the husband newer, and yet here comes my birthday/Christmas (how come Christmas is capitalized, but not birthday, anyway?)
So, I thought maybe I would treat myself to a new outfit, new shoes, a new handbag or three....
Well, guess what....that burly rough and tough haven't shaved in days mountain man i call my husband (and gladly, too)--Well, he arranged a little Birthday (with a capital "B" ) shopping trip
and we acquired together, in honor of my BIRTHDAY...not christmas/ holiday/ birthday...But for my BIRTHDAY...We bought mysuestories a new outfit (thank you macy's)....a new pair of shoes (you can NEVER have too many--thank you Imelda Marcos for that lesson) AND a new designer bag ---God bless frivulousness?
All this, and all beceause it is going to be my BIRTHDAY...
Not Christmas, which by the wqay, should now be lower case christmas, but, all for my UPPER CASE BIRTHDAY!!!!
Well, maybe having a Christmas Birthday IS all good...After all, I HAVE been blessed with the most rugged, he-man, tough guy, soft-hearted, sweetie with excellant fashion sense in shoes (Honest to God!!!)--He IS the end of my rainbow!!!!
So, my lesson in this? God DOES bless us. Everyone. That's why he gave me Grizzly Adams.
Or maybe God just has bigger sense of humor than I give Him credit for.....
Actually, it's not as selfish as it sounds --ok, maybe it IS as selfish as it sounds, but I have some inherent holiday issues....
I am a Christmas baby---Not as in Merry Christmas, Baby (thank you, Bruce Springsteen), but as in born not in a manger but on the same calender day....
Oh WOW, says you? An honest to God Christmas baby? Well, that must just be the most wonderful time of the year for a birthday! Isn't that great?
Well, actually, it does present some issues, especially as a precocious(i was) child---
Issue #1 you don't get to make but one wish list a year---anything you wanted as a gift in June was long forgotten by November! Hence, summer play items were usually borrowed from a lucky sister blessed witha June birthday!
Issue #2-(to be shared with anyone with a birthday from September 5th through April 1st-) Pool parties and outside gatherings are definitely off the list!
Issue #3-The old birthday / Christmas gift---usually resulted in a slightly better christmas gift than everyone else, but not really up to par as two seperate gifts. (Is anyone else looking up the number of a good therapist for mysuestories about now?)
Issue #4-That cake served after Christmas dinner, well, we all know that was a last minute afterthought, or at the very least, one more stop at a bakery, that we hope is open on Christmas morning---thank God, that bakery in Island Park (sorry-the name escapes me)--was ALWAYS there for us!!!
Anyway, somewhere along the line, I began to think that Christmas shopping meant getting my birthday/ Christmas gift for myself first to kick off the festivities... It became a ritual....
My birthday would be recognized by myself with a special purchase usually accomplished on my first day of holiday shopping.... Be it a new coat or shoes or handbag...just something to signify MY birthday...not Christmas.
As I got older (Haven't we all?) my priorities leaned more towards my kids, my husband...making someone else feel special on Christmas, well, that was the whole idea of the whole gift giving thing, wasn't it?
Well, the kids are a little older, the husband newer, and yet here comes my birthday/Christmas (how come Christmas is capitalized, but not birthday, anyway?)
So, I thought maybe I would treat myself to a new outfit, new shoes, a new handbag or three....
Well, guess what....that burly rough and tough haven't shaved in days mountain man i call my husband (and gladly, too)--Well, he arranged a little Birthday (with a capital "B" ) shopping trip
and we acquired together, in honor of my BIRTHDAY...not christmas/ holiday/ birthday...But for my BIRTHDAY...We bought mysuestories a new outfit (thank you macy's)....a new pair of shoes (you can NEVER have too many--thank you Imelda Marcos for that lesson) AND a new designer bag ---God bless frivulousness?
All this, and all beceause it is going to be my BIRTHDAY...
Not Christmas, which by the wqay, should now be lower case christmas, but, all for my UPPER CASE BIRTHDAY!!!!
Well, maybe having a Christmas Birthday IS all good...After all, I HAVE been blessed with the most rugged, he-man, tough guy, soft-hearted, sweetie with excellant fashion sense in shoes (Honest to God!!!)--He IS the end of my rainbow!!!!
So, my lesson in this? God DOES bless us. Everyone. That's why he gave me Grizzly Adams.
Or maybe God just has bigger sense of humor than I give Him credit for.....
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Unabashedly self promotion
Today's mysuestories has been posted on http://www.smallaa.com/post/1831 . I entered a contest under the HOME STORIES (which is a catgory I created). It is called The Call of The Wild Came in On a Cell Phone. Please read it and vote for me, yea teaam!
And thank you oh constant, albeit, lonely, reader.
And thank you oh constant, albeit, lonely, reader.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Car 54 Where Are You
About twelve years ago, my then husband and I used to take our kids into Manhattan on Thanksgiving Eve, to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Balloons get inflated. We always worked Tahnksgiving mornings, and this was a nice traditional twist to the whole parade thing. We would hop the train and meet my sisters and their families. We would have dinner and cruise the streets eyeing the balloons. Sounds simple and fun, right? Not always.
Maybe ten years ago, we were running late from work and we scooped up the kids and literally made a mad dash for the train station. We boarded in Ronkonkoma, which is a huge depot with massive double sided parking, and plenty of crowds at rush hour. We actually squeezed in to the train, kids in tow just in the nick of time.
We got to Manhattan, met our families, and feasted our bellies and eyes on the magical sites of Manhattan at holiday time. Trust me, if it's something you've yet to do, you simply must try it at least once. Manhattan becomes transformed at this time of year in to a magical wonder land! The kids were always awed and amazed at the sites and sounds!
This particular year was no different. After dinner and wandering frrom one wonderous site to another for hours, we said our goodbyes and made it back to the train station. We arrived back in Ronkonkoma around midnight, and that's where the fun really began!
In our haste to catch our scheduled train , we broke my first rule of parking. We did not pay attention to where we parked. We had simply bolted for the train without so much as a glance at a marker! We searched that lot, with two hungry, tired, whiny kids in tow, for over two hours! We went up and down, down and up every aisle there, and by two am, as the lot was becoming more and more sparse with cars, it became quite apparent.... Our car was simply not there!
We finally called the police, and after thiry minutes of more hungry, tired, whiny kids and now hungry tired, whiny adults as well, a police car shows up, but on the OPPOSITE side of the tracks, which happens to be seperated by fences. We call the police to say hey!!!! Copper!!!! We're over HERE! to which dispatch informs us, Hey! That's a different jurisdiction, and said cop is not ALLOWED to cross the tracks!!!! Another car is then dispatched.
Finally, a police officer who is allowed on the right(?) side of the tracks arrives, and our car is officially recorded as stolen. Now all we had to do is hail a cab, and $60.00 later, we were home. Hungry. Tired. And of course Whiny!
The next morning (or really, only a few hours later), my then husband and I head to work, where fellow colleagues commiserate in our nightitme woes and misadventures.
After work, I suggest we pass by the train station again...Things always look better in the light of day. We approach the train station parking lot from a different entrance than the one we departed the night before. On the opposite side of the tracks. And lo and behold, there, sitting All By Itself, is our car. One lonely vehicle in a near empty parking lot, right where we had parked it. Apparently in our haste to board our own polar express to hell, we neglected to remember climbing the overpass to approach the train. Not only that, the first cop had practically been sitting on top of our car when dispatch informed him that he was in fact not the man for the job.
How embarassing....We actually considered leaving the car there....eventually SOMEBODY would steal it.
But no, I drove it home, with my then husband following, hoping I wouldn't get pulled over and arrested for driving my OWN stolen car!
Once home, we called the police to say "Oops a daisy, false alarm,, my bad", but apparently that's not quite good enough. And so, in the interest of good police work, we waited at our home for another hour for a police officer from I don't know which side of the tracks, came to OUR HOME to view said stolen vehicle, to verfiy that it was in fact found. It doesn't get more embarassing than that, and no, officer, for the third time, we were NOT drinking, just stupid!
Needless to say, that was our last Thanksgiving Eve excursion to Manhattan. These days the family tends to stay home, drinking hot toddies, and baking pies. And rest assurred , I check every hour to make sure those cars are in the garage where they belong!!
Maybe ten years ago, we were running late from work and we scooped up the kids and literally made a mad dash for the train station. We boarded in Ronkonkoma, which is a huge depot with massive double sided parking, and plenty of crowds at rush hour. We actually squeezed in to the train, kids in tow just in the nick of time.
We got to Manhattan, met our families, and feasted our bellies and eyes on the magical sites of Manhattan at holiday time. Trust me, if it's something you've yet to do, you simply must try it at least once. Manhattan becomes transformed at this time of year in to a magical wonder land! The kids were always awed and amazed at the sites and sounds!
This particular year was no different. After dinner and wandering frrom one wonderous site to another for hours, we said our goodbyes and made it back to the train station. We arrived back in Ronkonkoma around midnight, and that's where the fun really began!
In our haste to catch our scheduled train , we broke my first rule of parking. We did not pay attention to where we parked. We had simply bolted for the train without so much as a glance at a marker! We searched that lot, with two hungry, tired, whiny kids in tow, for over two hours! We went up and down, down and up every aisle there, and by two am, as the lot was becoming more and more sparse with cars, it became quite apparent.... Our car was simply not there!
We finally called the police, and after thiry minutes of more hungry, tired, whiny kids and now hungry tired, whiny adults as well, a police car shows up, but on the OPPOSITE side of the tracks, which happens to be seperated by fences. We call the police to say hey!!!! Copper!!!! We're over HERE! to which dispatch informs us, Hey! That's a different jurisdiction, and said cop is not ALLOWED to cross the tracks!!!! Another car is then dispatched.
Finally, a police officer who is allowed on the right(?) side of the tracks arrives, and our car is officially recorded as stolen. Now all we had to do is hail a cab, and $60.00 later, we were home. Hungry. Tired. And of course Whiny!
The next morning (or really, only a few hours later), my then husband and I head to work, where fellow colleagues commiserate in our nightitme woes and misadventures.
After work, I suggest we pass by the train station again...Things always look better in the light of day. We approach the train station parking lot from a different entrance than the one we departed the night before. On the opposite side of the tracks. And lo and behold, there, sitting All By Itself, is our car. One lonely vehicle in a near empty parking lot, right where we had parked it. Apparently in our haste to board our own polar express to hell, we neglected to remember climbing the overpass to approach the train. Not only that, the first cop had practically been sitting on top of our car when dispatch informed him that he was in fact not the man for the job.
How embarassing....We actually considered leaving the car there....eventually SOMEBODY would steal it.
But no, I drove it home, with my then husband following, hoping I wouldn't get pulled over and arrested for driving my OWN stolen car!
Once home, we called the police to say "Oops a daisy, false alarm,, my bad", but apparently that's not quite good enough. And so, in the interest of good police work, we waited at our home for another hour for a police officer from I don't know which side of the tracks, came to OUR HOME to view said stolen vehicle, to verfiy that it was in fact found. It doesn't get more embarassing than that, and no, officer, for the third time, we were NOT drinking, just stupid!
Needless to say, that was our last Thanksgiving Eve excursion to Manhattan. These days the family tends to stay home, drinking hot toddies, and baking pies. And rest assurred , I check every hour to make sure those cars are in the garage where they belong!!
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