Rebel Rescuer

Stuff you didn't need to know

Since I'm charring brain cells pretty hard core today, I give you this little forwarded email gem.  I'm working on a little fiction project, so here's some easy breezy non-fiction before I have to trot off and start dinner (whatever the hell that's going to be).

1. Do you like blue cheese?  More than I like sex.  Sex in a pool filled with blue cheese would be cool.

2. Have you ever smoked heroin? No.  I just act like I have.

3. Do you own a gun?  Yes.  So if you break into my house, I'll gladly remove your face and relocate it to the floor.

4. What flavor do you add to your drink at sonic?  I've never eaten there.

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?   Eye doctor, no.  Girly bits doctor, yes.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?   Best served blackened.

7. Favorite Christmas movie?  White Christmas.  And The Crow.  But I suppose that's not really a Christmas movie.  Well, unless you watch it on Christmas, which would be kind of weird.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?   The blood of my enemies.  Sweet Tea.

9. Can you do push ups?   Yeah, but just the girly kind. 

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?   My five wedding rings.  And yeah, they're all from the same guy and I wear all five on the same finger.

11. Favorite hobby?   Watching men watching women at the poker tables.  And twisting my hair into phallic shapes.

12. Do you have A.D.D.?   You don't read this blog much, do ya?

13. What's one trait you hate about yourself?  My inability to throw wicked dirty looks without busting up laughing.

14. Middle name?   Ann

15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:  (1) I'm so tired of dog poop.  (2) Why can't I be a crab boat captain?  (3)  My nail polish looks like hell.

16. Name 3 things you bought yesterday.  I didn't.  I haven't left the house since Tuesday because I'm a socially deprived hermit.

17. Name 4 drinks you regularly drink?  Sweet Tea, Coke, Milk, Sweet Tea

18. Current worry?  That PG likes Japanese businessmen better than me.  Yup, I'm just that insecure.

19. Current hate right now?  Assholes that buy dogs from petstores.  But that's pretty much a constant hate.

20. Favorite place to be?  Vegas.

21. How did you bring in the New Year?  I think we were somewhere, but I don't remember where.

22. Where would you like to go?  Alaska

23. Name two people who will complete this?  I don't think this applies.

24. Do you own slippers?  Yes.  They match my mu-mus and pink hair rollers.

25. What shirt are you wearing?   None.  HA!!  Seriously, a white tshirt.

26. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?  Never tried it.  But it sounds cold.  And slippery.  And not that sexy.

27. Can you whistle?  No.  Never been able to.

28. Favorite color?  Pea green with a dash of barn red.

29. Would you be a pirate?   Sure.  I guess.  What a weird question.

30. What songs do you sing in the shower?   I'm on Fire - Bruce Springsteen and Tunnel of Love - Bruce Springsteen

31. Favorite girl's name?  MacKenzie  (after Alexander MacKenzie, the Canadian explorer dude.)

32. Favorite boy's name?   Wyatt (after Wyatt Earp)

33. What's in your pocket right now?  I have no pockets. 

34. Last thing that made you laugh?  Its been a while, I don't really recall.

35. Best bed sheets as a child?  Any that were dried on the clothesline.

36. Worst injury you've ever had?   Dislocated knee with 17 bone chips floating.  Stupid ice skating accident.

37. Do you love where you live?   yeah.  But I'm always open for change!

38. How many TV's do you have in your house?  8 (8 too many)

39. Who is your loudest friend?  Nicko.

40. How many dogs do you have?   It varies by the day.

41. Does someone have a crush on you?   I truly hope so.  How awesome would that be?!

42. What is your favorite book(s)? Book series?   Twilight because I'm a 33 year old dork.  But I love them!

43. What is your favorite candy?   Cotton candy

44. Favorite Sports Team?  I really could give two poops about sports.

45. What song do you want played at your funeral?   My Way - Frank Sinatra

46. What were you doing 12 AM last night?   Trying to decide whether to kill off a character.

 

47. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?  Why is this dog digging on my boob?

Good Morning, yes yes it is.

In case you haven't had a good morning in a while, let me remind you what they look like.

They look like this....

 

And this.....

 

Yeah I know what you're thinking.

"Gawd Reb, we know you have dogs, so what's the big deal?  We thought this was a post about good mornings."

And I say, "Oh yes it is Grasshopper.  And no, I'm not just regaling you with photos of dogs.  There's a story here, and after you read it, you might agree that it IS a good morning!"

So right in the middle of some important thing or another, I got a call from a shelter on Monday.  The above little hounds were occupying space at their beautiful facility.  (And yes it IS beautiful and yes, these people ROCK.)  Anyway, these two wayward hounds were there and frightened.  Their previous owner suffered some sort of head trauma and couldn't care for them.

And that's all I needed to hear.

But there was more. 

Because they were so frightened, and somewhat older (if they were people, they'd be 50 or so), they just weren't going to make it to the adoption floor.  In other words, they were being kept in a back area and no one looking to adopt a dog would know they were there.  Besides, who's going to adopt two dogs that are too frightened to even come close?

But it gets worse.

These little houndlets had until close of business last night to be out of there.  Or their little lives were over.

You want to see a rescuer move her tubby ass in a quick-like fashion?  Mention "out of time" and "dogs" in the same sentence.  And then don't stand behind the car as I'm backing out of the driveway, because I don't stop when that puppy's in reverse!

So this morning, Wednesday, I stumbled out in search of Coke and cigarettes, only to be stopped short by the sight of two tiny dogs, curled up in a bed, one's head laid carefully and protectively over the other.  They wagged at me in the early morning darkness of the kitchen.  I stood there watching them, they came to stand up to my leg and wag.  And I felt about 20 feet tall. 

And they felt alive, and warm, and waggy, and they had to pee.  And they did....in the backyard like good little hounds.  And they were alive.

Something they weren't going to be as of seven o'clock last night.

I know.  Think about that for a minute.

And now their future looks great.  They'll stay together, in rescue (either here at my house or at a foster home) until the right family comes along to adopt them.  They will continue their lives as loving and loyal friends, they will lick away tears, wag at celebrations, sleep on laps...because that is their destiny.  Not to become the victims of too much overcrowding at the doggie jail.

They are alive, and there are many, many more out there needing YOU to keep them that way.

Spay and neuter, and adopt.  There are lives out there depending on it. 

Believe me, you'll never forget what a good morning is, ever again.

 

Filling the Shoes

Sometimes I think back to when I was young, married, and pretty much carefree.  PG and our cat depended on me, and that was about it.  For all other problems, we went to my grandma who had an answer for every problem.  She was the one we'd call when we needed a ride home from a flat tire, or when something was wrong in the business world.  She was the be all and end all for our lives.  We would meet at her house after work and hang out, sometimes picking up dinner, sometimes eating whatever she might have brewing on the stove.  We'd cry over an injustice as work and she'd make us the hottest, sweetest tea or hand out pieces of coffeecake.  If we needed to know how to make cheesecake for a party, she had those answers too.  And if we didn't have a plan for Easter Sunday, she was on it like white on rice. 

She was beautiful and everyone knew it.  Unlike myself, she had olive skin...something like you'd see on an Italian person.  Her hair was jet black.  When I was a kid, I used to think we WERE Italian, but in fact, we are hardcore German Americans.  My Grandma was as stubborn as a mule, smart as a whip, and as caring as a saint.  Men that had known her all of her life, as friends, never got over their crushes on her.  They admired her beauty, but I think they admired her mind even more.  When she wanted to buy a crane company, my grandpa wouldn't let her.  And years later, he would truly regret not going with her instincts on that.

But after she died, the whole family dynamic changed.  Who were we to ask about our problems?  Where were we to go?

And somehow, though I am the youngest of our very small clan, the duties have fallen on me.  I mean, doesn't it seem logical that my mom would be next in line?  Doesn't it seem like she would become the leader of this tiny pack of hardheaded Germans?  But it didn't happen that way.

Nowadays it seems that when there's a problem, when there are plans to be made, it falls on me.  Which is OK most of the time.  I'm there to hear the rants about work and offer whatever solutions I can.  I'm there to figure out who's bringing what to the 4th of July picnic.  I'm there to do whatever, whenever.  I'm mystified by it, but damn it, I do it.

But sometimes it would be nice to hand it all off.  Sometimes I don't have the solutions or the answers or the plan.  Sometimes I want to just throw up my hands and yell "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" at the top of my lungs. 

Sometimes I'm doing well just to keep myself from insanity without trying to do the same for others.

I guess though, that in some ways, its an honor to try to fill the shoes that my grandma left behind.  She and I are so much alike, where my mom is much more meek and quiet.  My grandma would get wild streaks (much like my own) and buy property, start a business, travel off to some foreign place.  If she wanted to do it, then God himself couldn't stop her.  And that description is just what PG would say about me as well.

But I guess sometimes the bold pay for their personalities when people depend on us for answers.  We may not have the right answers, but you wouldn't find us saying "I don't know" while we wring our hands and dab at our eyes.  We have a plan, whether we have one or not.  And there is some pride in "leading the troops" through whatever problems, celebrations, or drama that they may be having.  I adore that aspect of my family.  Whatever might be going on, we solve it as a family. 

I guess in that way we really ARE a clan.

And while its not always easy being the leader of that clan, it is in some ways, an honor.

I just hope I can truly fill those shoes.  I'm giving it everything I have.

 

10 Truths

There's one of those viral things cruising around blogland.  This one is "10 Truths About Yourself".  Here it goes.....

1.  When I met PG, I was dating another guy.  The other guy's aspiration in life was to be a pig farmer.  PG spoke french and I thought he was wimpy because of it.  I was dead wrong.

2.  I nearly failed algebra in junior high, high school, and college....all because I couldn't see the importance of learning it.  I still can't.

3.  I hated grapefruit juice as a kid, so I'd fill my mouth with it and then run to the bathroom and spit it in the toilet when mom wasn't looking.

4.  I try to park in the same areas at the the stores I regularly visit.  Why?  Because I tend to forget where I parked.

5.  If there is an injured person, I'm fully trained and can handle the emergency.  But if its an injured animal I panic and can't handle it.  I fall to pieces and turn into a blubbering, freaked out, ball of panic.

6.  When my mom was pregnant with me, the doctors were convinced that it was twins because there were two distinct heartbeats.  But there was never a twin and no one is sure why that is.

7.  I would like to sell most everything I own and live in a tiny old farmhouse on lots of acres.  I yearn for simplicity.

8.  I'm afraid my uterus is going to dry up before I get over the fear of using it.

9.  In my opinion, more people should get the electric chair.

10.  Rabid feminists scare the shit out of me.

Here's the song that's been stuck in my head for the past week....

I am no Isaac.

This commercial just had me bawling....

 

So I'm either hormonal or need therapy.  Or a stiff drink.  Or all three.  But since I have no therapist, and it shouldn't be hormones, then I decided to make a stiff drink.  Except that most Mormons know more about alcohol than I do.  I just don't drink much.  I think my last cocktail was back in February or something.

But apparently, I mix them well because the half glass of Pepsi One and Smirnoff kicked my ass to the moon and back.  Except that it was slower on re-entry into the atmosphere.  I think I should just lay my head on this cold granite counter top and rest a while.  Because for some reason, the house feels quite a bit like this little humdinger that I was on a few years ago....

 

And I'm hoping that when I go to bed tonight, the towels will be folded like monkeys and there'll be chocolate on the pillow.

I make one very sucky Isaac, Matey.

Sex in the Suburbs

Do you ever look at two people and just KNOW that they've been rubbing their bits together like Boy Scouts with sticks trying to start a fire?

Yeah, that happened to me tonight when a friend whose name is (going to be) Sassypantschick came driving into the parking lot with her new "friend" NineIron.  Now we've both known NineIron for quite some time.  He's a youngster at 26 and she's 48 but sassy enough to be 25.  She really is all that and a bag of hot sauce.

And once we were inside, I could just tell.  Maybe it was because they leaned together to speak.  Or maybe its because she has suddenly started dressing differently.  Or maybe its because they whisper A LOT.

So I asked her, "Hey Sassypantschick, whats neeeeewwwwww?"  Yes, it sounded just like that, complete with one eyebrow raised.

Come to find out, Sassypantschick (a very devout Catholic and exceptionally nice and generous gal) has indeed been getting her freak on with NineIron.  The hitch?  Sassy is well, hitched.  And has been for many years.  To a guy that is one smokin' hawt hunk of muscular manliness, and a really nice guy all rolled into one.  Seriously.  She has all that and perky boobs and she needs something else?????  I don't get it either.

And while she was regaling stories about public restrooms, leather couches, and new lingerie, I was all at once appalled and curious.  I mean, NineIron is a nice guy, a cute kid, pretty smart upstairs.  But he's not really all sorts of sexiness wrapped up in fresh man skin.  He's not the next Shakespeare or Beethoven or Calvin Klein underwear model.  I wasn't seeing what Sassypantschick was getting out of this except a guilt complex and the potential for divorce.

But then it dawned on me that maybe she just needs a little ego stroke.  And no, I'm certainly not condoning her actions.  Its a bad bad thing to cheat, Kids.  I'm just saying that maybe its nice to be 48 and be able to snare a young whippersnapper.  Though there's something kind of creepy about that, I'm just not sure what it is.

Anyway, I told her she'd better get over this ASAP and get back to being the wife she is normally.  Its one thing to be able to snag a strapping young guy, its quite another to actually do it.  Catch and release, Sassypantschick.

I'm thinking that when I get to her age, it would be nice to be able to turn the heads of 20-something guys. 

But then, I couldn't do that when I was 20-something myself.

I'll just grow old and stick to turning PG's head.  At least if what's left of my physical appearance fail, I know that I can always get his attention with steak.

The Morning After

Well, I think the roof is toast, the paint on the house is fawked, the big timbers that stick out of the sides of the house are chowed off, and the fence took a nasty beating, as did the decks.

I'm not sure if the roof will keep water out at this point, but I think we'll find out this afternoon.  They're calling for more "tornado warnings, damaging wind, damaging hail" here in town.  I'm charging the batteries for the drills so that I can board the windows if need be.  The inlaws got their power back at 3am.  Many in the city are still without.

Did I mention PG is leaving for an out of town meeting today?  Oh well, I can hold down the fort.  I just hope he gets out of town before the weather gets here.

Oh, and because this is considered a "catastrophe" the insurance adjusters won't be here for a week.  I'm not gonna stress that unless it starts raining INSIDE the house.

I haven't taken any photos of the damage yet, but got these this morning when I took the dogs out.  Because there was so much hail on the ground, it caused some serious fog.  It was so serene and beautiful.  Quite the contrast once it burned off and the damage started showing.

But for a few minutes, it was the most beautiful morning ever.

 

 

The trees stood standing, but they are shawdows of their former selves.  But hey, at least they're not IN the house, as is the case for some people around town.

Apparently, it was a tornado.

Its the middle of the night, but there won't be much sleep around here.

Apparently, there was a tornado.

All I know is that I was sitting here at the kitchen island and heard three raindrops on the skylight above me.  Then the sound became so deafening with hail that I couldn't get PG to hear me yelling at him from just a few feet away.  We raced around to close all of the blinds because I knew the windows were going to burst.  It sound like machine gun fire in here. 

Then I grabbed the camera and started taking photos from inside.  This was less than 30 seconds after the storm started.

 

Once it was finished, I took these. 

 

 

Both PG and I called our moms.  My mom was fairing fine.  HIs mom, not so much.  She had windows broken out and his dad was at work.  So we whipped over there (avoiding any downed trees) in time to meet his dad and help board up windows.  Not an easy task as there was no electricity.  Because the power failed, the tornado sirens only went off for a short time.  I haven't heard them since I was a teeny kid, and have never heard them except for a test.

Everyone on their street had multiple windows out, trees down, etc.  All of my brother-in-law's tailights are broken out.  His license plate is still attached, but curled and twisted.  He just left for vacation in San Francisco this morning.

Come to fine out, in our not-so-tornado prone area, there was indeed a tornado.  At night.  Which simply never happens here.  Seriously.  It NEVER happens.  But that's what the news is saying, and well, I have no doubts that they're right.

So in just a few short hours, PG is due to fly out to SIn City for a meeting and I'll be hopping up on the roof to assess damages.  Its too dark to tell much right now, but at least our windows held.  I'm almost afraid to see it in the light of day.

And thank God, the hounds were all inside sleeping when this came up.  I don't think we could've gotten them rounded up from the yard and back in the house before they'd have suffered the wrath of the storm.  It came on just that fast. 

This is why I don't live in Kansas, ya'll.

Great. A Barbecue.

Shit.

Next weekend is an executive barbecue at the Prez's house.  Yeah, I'd never heard of an "executive barbecue" either.  But apparently they exist.

And of course, I have no frickin clue what to wear.

So I jumped on google, and apparently executive barbecues happen.  At least enough to show up in their searches.

According to one website, this is what I should wear....

 

But there's this thing about floppy arms and farmer tans from fishing, and well, my big ol ass. 

Next option please.

 

There's this top.

But there's the arm thing again.  But even worse is the price tag.  $155.  Did you know that is a spay or neuter and canine dental in my world?  Did you know that is two weeks groceries?  Did you know that my power bill isn't even that much?  I just can't justify that.  And then that leaves the bottom wanting a bit of something.  Like pants.

But mostly, its the arms.

 

Next.....

 

From the well meaning folks at Shoptalk.  I dunno.  My boobs, while just fine in size...aren't structurally sound enough for that top.  And the sandals might be a little S&M for a barbecue with the heavy hitters.  Nothing says "smart guy's wife" like S&M sandals.

SO I'm up shit creek without the proverbial paddle.  It looks like I'm going to have to break down and go shopping this week.  Something summery, but not skimpy.  Casual but not redneck.  Comfortable and cool, but not cutoff sweat pants and a holey tshirt.

I really do have my work cut out for me this week.

What's Cooking?

Hmmmm, what could it be?

 

A pan of melted butter.  Lots and lots of melted butter.

 

And lots and lots of brown sugar.  (A+ if you already know where I'm going with this.)

 

Somewhat carefully arranged pineapple.  Because well, its pretty important.

 

And some cherries.  No, they're not just for cocktails.  You can actually cook them (are you listening Nicko?).

 

If you haven't guessed by now, then you were either....

A)  Born under a rock in Death Valley

B)  Raised in a third world country by wild animals

C)  Not paying attention.

 

I know, grab a napkin 'cause this would make a dead man drool.

 

And just in case you're a detail oriented kind of person.

 

And just like that, the MIL's birthday cake is finished.  Now I can spend the rest of the day drinking V-8 and eating vegetables and staring longingly at this little beauty on the counter.