31 Flavors

This post is for Blog Hero Stacy: Help.

Dear Stacy,

I was in Meijers the other day doing my grocery shopping and, of course, scouting the latest shipment of Columbia clothing. While wandering down the snack aisle, I saw they had almost a whole row of Genisoy Crisps...isn't that your brand? I was thinking, "Hmmmmm...if bloghero Stacy likes them, and she's pretty honest, maybe I should give them a try." The problem is, they are nearly $3 a bag and I don't want to buy a flavor I don't like.

Please, if this is your *brand*, at your earliest convenience, do a brief review of some of the preferred flavors. Your assistance is most appreciated as I am on a tight grocery budget due not to the building of a house; rather, a preference for outdoor clothing.

Many thanks,
WTC

The future's sooooo bright...

Ya just have to wear shades...to the gym!

Just an update: The Brad Pitt/Tom Cruise/Matt Damon/Skydiver/Motel 6 Celeb arrived at the gym tonight while I was eliptically training. He not only had his football jersey on; he also wore sunglasses for his entire workout. I watched and he had 2 bottles of Gatorade that he put beside him while he did the exercise bike routine. Then, sunglasses still on, he wandered in and out of the weight machines while carrying the nearly-full Gatorades. Supportive Wife Jennie, on the other hand, was working her ass off on the eliptical trainer, treadmill, and weights, sans the sport drinks. I think we can figure out who SHOULD wear the glasses in that family.

...but we DO still live here

I knew H would be working on the house most of the long Easter weekend so I took it upon myself to rent some movies (in hopes of sprawling on the couch with some wine and kleenex) that I knew he really wouldn't want to see...ya know, the chick flick thing. I need a good dose of it once in awhile...just a couple of good cries to get me back to my emotionally normal self. I once rented The Saddle Club videos...they are aimed at pre-teens and it is a series about these kids who ride at a stable called Pine Hollow. I ended up sobbing at one of the episodes b/c the girl's horse got hurt. I decided then and there that I must be either super-hormonal or I was way past my dose of sappy movies.

One of the movies I rented was We Don't Live Here Anymore. I had wanted to see it but it never came to the theaters around here. I found out it was on video when Blog-Hero Stacy reviewed it. Wow. Heavy duty stuff! I will say I didn't cry but the movie sure made me think. As someone who has been married nearly 18 years and sadly not all of them wonderful and tender, the movie was, in a way, a reality check. It really doesn't matter what the problem is that causes such a tear in a relationship...the end result is that you feel like you are supposed to love this person because they are your forever spouse but you might not, and since you should but you are not sure, it is really frightening. See what I mean? It gets all wacky! The sad thing is that when you try to *work on things*, it is just not possible to get back to where you once were with what you once had. After our TBM (Time of Bad Marriage), I finally realized you just have to work with what you've got and try to move forward with teensy baby steps and a lot of patience. This movie made me feel a lot more normal b/c a lot of people go thru this stuff...they just usually don't talk about it and certainly, they don't let you into their lives to see the nitty gritty crap and emotional gunk that goes on at home as they move thru their own TBM's. I, of course, thought we were the only ones who had late-night battles and uncomfortable morning conversations. Wow, I AM ok!!

Well, that is my deep thoughts post. You shouldn't have read it...it was really just for venting purposes. Then again, thinking about relationships is something all of us need to do from time to time, especially these long-term doosies!

He's no Brad Pitt!

I was in the Motel 6 laundry building a couple of weeks ago doing my usual 6 simultaneous loads of laundry while simultaneously having a few drinks and, I guess, simultaneously getting tipsy. On one trek across the parking lot to *check the sheets* (laundry speak: *check the sheets* = periodically opening the dryer to make sure the bedsheets do not roll themselves into a tight twisted ball with the rest of the dryer load trapped within them so the entire dryer load ends up as a hot, damp, wrinkled tangle that has to be dried again for another hour and another dollar...my theory is that this only happens in commercial dryers, never at home) While un-twisting the sheet and trying not to dump the trapped items onto the gross floor, a woman started talking to me. (She was folding her clothes on the table...I never fold my clothes on the table b/c I am afraid the table is kind of dirty) So, anyway, she said her name was Jennie and she and her husband moved here from Indianapolis b/c her husband is getting into acting and Chicago is a great town for that and this is so close, etc. I asked how long they had been here and she said they have lived in the Motel 6 for almost 3 years. (OMG!!) She said they had just signed another lease b/c the acting gig was going well. As she raved about her husband's blossoming career, I started to picture this young-ish Tom Cruise/Brad Pitt/Matt Damon kind of guy...and I was thinking, "hmmmmm...a hottie living HERE? In the Motel 6???" I decided to keep an eye out so someday I could be interviewed for a People Magazine article about how he was such a nice neighbor and his first wife and I used to do laundry together and I once or twice got a glimpse of his boxer shorts, etc etc...it was quite the visual, naturally, after a few cocktails. I told H about the conversation and he said, "Hey, I think Jennie is the one who drives the car that has the *Skydiving* bumper sticker on it." ...and a skydiver too? Hmmmmmmm...I couldn't wait to get a look at this hot actor skydiver-guy!

As I said, this all happened a few weeks ago. Every time I walked out to the dumpster or the car or over to the laundry, I had my eye out for Jennie's husband. I was looking for maybe a leather jacket/dark smoldering eyed-man...or maybe a blondie guy with all-American good looks. It became a bit of an obsession...I even had H watching for him as well. Daily we combed the parking lot with no sightings...only the car with the Skydiving bumper sticker.

This past week it all came to a head. I was at the gym, winding down my workout, when I saw Jennie's car drive into the parking lot. I stayed on the treadmill a few moments longer...maybe The Husband was coming to the gym! MY gym! I saw Jennie get out of the car and walk with a huge smile towards this guy. Surely this wasn't...it couldn't be...NO WAY! Yes way. She gave him a big smooch and he wrapped his arms around her and together they came into the gym.

It was not Brad Pitt. It was not Matt Damon. It was not Tom Cruise. It was more like a combination of Chris Farley and John Candy with a little bit of nerd mixed-in. I was crushed. As I told H, he had a sort of roundy body, a shock of unkept red hair, and a similarly unkept type of goatee thing, He was wearing a football jersey, sweat pants with a few holes, and old dirty tennis shoes. Def. not iron man material and def. not a reason for People Mag to be contacting me anytime soon.

I am sooooo stoned.

I am off today...YEAH! It is, at times, beneficial to work for a manufacturing company. I get to wear jeans to work and I get a few holiday-type days off. I used to work in Banking...that really stunk as far as wardrobe and days off. As is often the case on *days off*, H is working so he not only still let me get up first to let the dogs out, start the coffee, and get the paper, he then said, "Are you REALLY busy today?" What am I going to say,..."Yes, I will be terribly busy! I was thinking of going to the barn for my riding lesson and then spending the afternoon watching a few chick flick videos and drinking wine while sprawled on the sofa." Shamefully, that really is what I had planned. Until this morning when I got *The Question*. So, I cheerfully (fake, oh so fake!) said I wasn't too booked and what did he need me to do? His answer, unfortunately, was not to ride, watch videos, and drink wine. Ya, go figure. He wanted me to go to this stone place to look at different stone colors and styles and shapes for the fireplace, the outside of the house, and for this little column-thingie we are having inside the house. As mentioned in earlier posts, I am really not a decision-maker, especially when it involves long-term relationships with color, shape, and texture. You would understand if you had seen my hair the past few years.

Sans videos, wine, and general relaxation (no skipping the riding lesson!) I went to the stone place. ok, let's make a list: 1) The place was huge 2) The salesguy handed me this zillion page brochure showing these fabulous homes...AS IF my house will even remotely look like those pictured...with examples of the fine stonework possibilities 3) You are supposed-to choose, again the committment issue, the stone you will be looking at for the next 30 years (I figure by then I'll be packing up for the nursing home), by looking at a 12" square sample. What is with that?

I wandered here and there, hither and yon, thru the showroom. Shall I select fieldstone, cobblestone, drift stone, pourous stone, ye-old-brick stone, stone with morter, stone with no morter, what type of hearth?...it was a plethera of stone! I hate to say this, but it was almost a relief to get back home to the generic safety of the Motel 6. I did lug the catalog home so H & I can peruse the carolina stone, the river rock, the limestone, the water wash stone, the coral stone, the split-face stone, and the Pro-Fit Ledgestone. Anyone up for wine and videos???

I just wanna be in the IN crowd...

So I stole the list from katie/Stacy/kiddo...

I am: usually tired.
I know: a cocktail after work is necessary most days.
I wish: I had my own horse.
I miss: being in college and having lots of friends and late night drink/chat sessions.
I fear: I will never be completely happy with myself and where I am.
I hear: everything going on in this Motel 6 apartment.
I wonder: when H & I will finally have a relaxing vacation together.
I regret: Not being more carefree when I was younger.
I love: cocktails and horses... oh ya, H too!
I ache: when I see old men by themselves.
I care: about the small things.
I always: make sure I kiss H and the poodles every time I leave the house.
I am not: very confident in myself.
I dance: better without shoes.
I sing: very loud in the car when I am alone.
I do not always: tell H what I buy on ebay.
I should not: be passive aggressive during arguements with H
I write: little stories in my head.
I win: at most arguements.
I lose: my mind on a regular basis.
I confuse: people's names all the time.
I listen: to other people's conversations when I am shopping.
I go: for walks outside whenever possible.
I am happy about: learning it is ok to pamper myself once in awhile.

Why didn't she SAY something?

I made the most gruesome discovery yesterday. I am embarassed to even blog about it, but the more I think about it, the more I feel I need to express it for healing purposes.

I have been starving my poodle. Yeah, Missy, the one that is my blog model. I guess watching one's food intake is something models do; however, Missy isn't exactly ready for Victoria's Secret or Sports Illustrated. She is more about home decor and golden horseshoes. It all began about a month or so ago when I started shopping at a different grocery store. This different grocery store happened, one day when I ran in for a coupla things, have their entire Columbia Sportswear line on sale for like 75% off. Needless to say, I was all about it. I started going to that store thereafter just to see if there was more Columbia on sale. Oh, I realize it was a little ridiculous, but the bargains were fantastic! Cool shirts and sweats and polar fleece... it went on and on until I had myself convinced this was my *new* store for grocery (and Columbia bargains) shopping.

I may have mentioned the poodles...we have 2 of them, Missy and Mr. P. I wanted Labs but H is afraid of bigger dogs so somehow I got rooked into poodles. Actually, they are really wonderful dogs...you just have to treat them like Labs so they don't learn to act all poodle-y. Our poodle Mr. P is a humongous eater. He will eat anything and everything...so he is a very *solid* toy poodle. A bit like a tank, actually. Missy, on the other hand, is one of those dogs that picks at her food and maybe only eats half of it but then has a ton of energy. She is very petite and kicks Mr. P's ass most of the time.

When I began my shopping at the *new* store, I found that the store brand of dog food was significantly less expensive than the usual Purina Small Bites, while still being 100% nutritionally complete. So, in my quest to keep the grocery budget the same with the addition of my Columbia purchases, I began to buy this new dog food for Missy & Mr. P. It seemed that Mr. P, as usual, had no adjustment problems...he dove in just as usual. Missy still seemed to be picking at her food which didn't seem at all unusual. That is, until over the weekend H & I were talking and we found in comparing notes that Missy didn't EVER seem to be eating. I thought he was refilling her dish and he thought I was! We were very concerned. Yesterday, I tried a very high-tech experiment. I put Missy's food in a ziplock bag and smashed the kibbles into smaller bits with a hammer. I then put the *bites* in her bowl. Oh, the guilt! Missy gobbled that food so fast she barely took her nose out of the bowl. Afterwards, she gave this huge burp, drank some water, and gave me a glazed and happy look that said, "You stupid cheapskate, didn't you KNOW that food was too big for me to eat?" Then, as she waited at the sliding door to go out for a poo, she looked back like, "Ya, nice *Columbia* sweatshirt."

BQ for you experts out there...

I have a blog question (BQ) - I just love using initials for things...it can get very funny at times. Anyway, I have a BQ for my BH (Blog Hero!) LOL. Stacy, of course, is my BH; however, sometimes she is busy baking holiday cakes (today IS Palm Sunday after all), working out (like I should be instead of sitting here blogging or browsing ebay), or adding songs to her MP3 player (which is another question in itself, but one at a time) so any of the faithful readers out there can answer:

How do you add your favorite blog friends and heros to your blog page so they are listed right there and are just a click away?

It is probably very simple and I am just acting my true senile age but I would most appreciate some guidence on how to do it. I am borrowing the BQ format from kiddo b/c he asked about how to post pictures. Thanks kiddo! I now use Photobucket too! (Tho I have not yet posted a pic...maybe later)

TY,
WTC

Thanks again, G!

Today was G's memorial service...geez, those things are so difficult. Especially when you really LIKED the person! It was a 2 hour drive so by the time we got there, of course, I had worked myself into an emotional disaster. (Is this pre-menopause??) H & I met up with some people we knew...they were G's circle of buddies. I think what makes me most sad is that when I see all of them w/out G, they look so different. He was such a magnet...everyone was together when he was around. 2 of his friends did readings during the service...they were wonderful and both bang-on as far as what a good friend G was.

There was a guy there who was, before my "time of bad marriage (TBM)", a very good friend and then he was the same friend who, right in the midst of "TBM," screwed both G & I...he just got so wierd and got very mean and selfish and basically dissed his 2 closest buddies, mostly b/c he started dating this girl who was one of those bitch-women who won't let their man talk to any woman unless previously approved...I so hate that type. Long story...but anyway, he was there and I had not seen him for about a year. He broke up w/"bitch woman" and we have kind of made up even tho it was really hard to do b/c his behavior really hurt me and many other friends. So, anyway, we are all sitting in the the church today and friend-guy was sitting down the row from us...and who trots in and plants herself right next to him?...Bitchwoman! LOL I was so cracking up b/c G and I used to talk about how evil she was and G would get so catty when he was ragging on her , picking apart every bitchy detail...and then here she comes to his very own memorial service! I can only imagine what he was saying upstairs...LOL LOL What a good laugh...it was classic even tho friend-guy had no clue why I was suddenly so smiley. Good ol G...thanks for one last laugh!

Who needs him anyway??

I arrived at the barn tonight for my little job with OZ the Giant after a rather trying week at work. So trying, in fact, that I am taking tomorrow off. Anyway, instead of investing thousands of dollars in therapy (I am, afterall, saving for a horse!), I go to my little barn job and relax with my horse buddies and try not to get all jealous of the people who are wealthy enough to board there.

So, I arrive and my friend is there...the friend whose neurologist live-in-guy just bought her a 13K Arab with bloodlines. Ok, so I hate her for that reason, let's just put that out in the open. Her horse is a beaut...and I don't even really like Arabs. She is really a nice person...and I don't even really like people who get horses for free. Am I just a bitch or is this completely normal?

OZ the Giant was a little bit hyper tonight but he is such a sweetie we will forgive him for the time being. I also got to *ride* again; however, I had to share the Olympic arena with a few others who were riding as well. Thus, I didn't have room to do my musical freestyle or practice my stadium jumping. I rode a different-than-usual horse...he is not a very nice one to ride butwhocaresitwasfree! I am so glad I am starting to feel much more confident and comfy! YEAH! It doesn't matter that I don't have a neurologist boyfriend to buy me a horse or pay for boarding at the poshy barn. I have my little job with riding benefits and my new craft career to slide me right into middle age.

Missy proudly models *The Golden Horseshoes*!

And the gold goes to....

Last evening after work I went to my little job at the barn to longe OZ the giant. I think I am falling in love with him. Probably because he is 8' tall, dark with velvety eyes, and priced way out of my budget. He was such a good boy! After I finished with OZ, El Instructor told me I should ride since that is what my little job is for anyway and I was working with OZ a lot and not even riding much. Did someone say RIDE??

I was once again alone under the lights of the Olympic arena with my grand prix stallion. A canter here, a diagonal of extended trot there, a little piaffe and passage and then we finished with an X/Halt/Salute. Ya right. But it was great fun! First I had to trudge through the mud outside to the pasture because my poor lesson horse has been booted from the comfy barn to make room for another boarder (who happens to be a friend of mine who happens to live with a guy who is a neurologist who happens to cheerfully and willingly support her riding habit thereby last week buying her a dapple grey Arabian with bloodlines for $13K...whateveah.). When I found my trusty quarter horse, he was caked with mud. Poor little guy. I saddled-up after chipping away the necessary areas for saddle and girth, and we were off! I was indeed alone in the indoor arena which was very nice even tho my trusty steed kept moving away from my mounting block every time I tried to get on him. When I was at last in the saddle, it took me about 15 mins to get him on the bit...we are still working on that part but believe me, 15 mins is an IMPROVEMENT! I rode my muddy-legged horse for about an hour total and when I happened to look up to the viewing area above the arena, El Inst. was giving me a thumbs up...so I must have been doing ok. YEAH! A somewhat healing marriage, a very nice full time job, volunteer work to pay back to my community and what makes me smiley and happy like a 5 year old? A muddy chestnut quarter horse who barely lets me on his back. I am so wierd.

Art Class 101

I am happy to report my *golden horseshoes* turned out very well. I AM crafty like Martha! What a self-confidence booster. I had a bit of trouble figuring out how to attach the blue sateen-like ribbon to the painted golden horseshoes until I, in my wanderings around the craft mecca trying to find the checkout lane, came upon rivets! Yes, rivets!! I figured I could attach the rivet to the ribbon and then superglue the ribbon to the horseshoe. Who knew? With only minimal damage to the kitchen floor of the Motel 6 (just a few small dings from the hammer hitting the rivet), and slight skin irritation where the superglue got on my finger thereby getting everything in a 2-foot range to stick to said finger, my *golden horseshoes* are works of art. I will take a pic to post here...as long as they are not too too shiny to photograph.

Next I will attempt to faux paint the pseudo-tiles of the Motel 6 bathroom...j/k!

It's Soooooooooo Easy!

I am, I hate to say, about to embark on a *craft project*. I am not a craft person...the only connection I have to Martha Stewart is that I am into food. Eating it, mostly...but maybe that counts in some obscure way. Anyway, as a part of my Volunteer Coordinator duties for the riding program with which I am involved, I have to be *crafty*. In order to get our volunteers more involved with our riding classes, I have spent nearly the entire winter revamping the volunteer training program. We will now be monitoring our students' progress with *The Golden Horseshoe Point System*. Ya, I know...makes you want to get involved, doesn't it? Naturally, part of *The Golden Horseshoe Point System* involves Golden Horseshoes. Guess who is making the horseshoes golden? LOL This morning I headed to the craft store to get my supplies. I was rather afraid I might be arrested by the craft police as I entered the place...they can probably spot a non-crafter a mile away. The place was huge. I wanted to look like I knew exactly what supplies I needed so I tried appear very calm and cool as I strolled down the scrapbooking aisle, the foam aisle, the I-don't-know-what-the-hell-that-was aisle until I finally found the paint. Oh yeah, baby, these horseshoes are going to be 18 karot gold-plated! (Maybe I will be able to sell them on QVC when the program is finished.) The most interesting thing about my field trip to the craft store today is the people. There were several husband/wife craft teams! One guy was helping his wife pick out beads in the *Let's make jewelry aisle*! I could so imagine H helping me pick out beads. "WTC, here is one that is shaped like a boob...and it's silver!" I am happy I survived the experience (1)without making fun of the people out loud and (2) Finding the required items for my craft. I am now off to gold-plate those *golden* horseshoes...It's SOOOOOOOOOOOO easy!

A Good Friend is Hard to Find :(

Yesterday I got the bad news that my very good friend and former riding instructor passed away. He was one of the most melodramatic individuals I have ever known, yet he died in his sleep. Almost as if he wanted to get the last laugh and just go quietly, without a big story as was usually the case with him. I am so sad, selfishly, because he helped me out in so many ways and I will miss him. I went through a time a few years ago...all I can call it was *a time*...there is no other way to describe it. My marriage was a wreck, one of my very bestest friends had betrayed me, my job was in jeapordy because of all of this, and I honestly thought I was *losing it*. Such a long story and it seems like ages ago. I, of course (!!) was still taking riding lessons...tho, I doubt I was accomplishing much for $40/30 min. Poor G, my instructor, patiently listened to my frustrations and put up with my crying. I was so tense I once nearly got thrown into the arena wall by a bucking horse. What did G do?...he stood there and yelled, "HANG ON!" LOL As a tribute to my friend G, I will publish a list of "My 10 Reasons I Love G"...I'll miss you!

1) G was the first gay person I met who talked openly about his gayness and actually enjoyed my questions about what it was like to be gay. We went to gay bars, met more gay people... I learned volumes.

2) He was the only person I have ever met who could meet someone he knew just about anywhere he went...it was a treat to trek to Chicago with him.

3) He taught me that no matter how poor a person is, one can always, ALWAYS enjoy food. Whatta cook.

4) I am still in awe of his love for animals of any kind. G kept chickens and one day after my lesson we found one of his chickens had been killed. We turned to see a hawk climbing the wire fence of the chicken coop to get to another chicken...G wacked the hawk with his leg (!!) and cornered him, gave him a lecture on why the sonofabitch should stay away from his chickens, and then watched him fly off. I had never seen a hawk up-close...they are very scary.

5) G was one of those people who had something wierd and funny happen to him no matter what he was doing. I so looked forward to his, "...ok, you won't believe what happened to me over the weekend..." It was always classic. And funny.

6) The people I met, the places I saw, the lessons I learned, and the food I ate as a result of having known G are many. He had this amazing network of movie stars, migrant workers, brain surgeons, messed-up, and together people...the list is endless. I am a better person as a result.

7) Thanks, G, for never again mentioning the time we were having the lesson outside and we were talking about our friend (the friend who so betrayed me...and YOU) and I started sobbing and then you started sobbing and we finally had to go to the barn to cry because we were so sad. How could this happen to us? It was so nice to have a friend that day.

8) G was strong for a teensy guy. He was shorter than I and def. weighed less...yet, he never shyed from a nutsy 1500 lb. horse or a crying student. I wish I could have been as strong for him as he was for me.

9) I loved the way he kind of waddled when he walked. The barn where I ride and G worked has very beautiful trails and grounds. During the summer of *the time* we took more than one walk. I was taking a photography class and I had to take pictures with a Ken doll...we were supposed-to pose him in different backgrounds. G was so excited to help...he did his little waddle step down the path to point out some flower or tree for Ken...it cracked me up and the pics were wonderful. Only G could dance like that.

10) G, your memorial service is going to be such a happy/sad time. All your friends will be there...gay/straight...in this time of such stupid homophobia, you are the person who will bring them all together. We all miss and love you. Be happy and thanks for being our friend.

Love, WTC

Here's Missy and the wood floor, cabinet sample, and *kitchen floor*. Thanks Missy, for showing us. Now you can go back to the Motel 6 living area to chew a chair and maybe bark a little bit. 

But will it show dirt?

It is unbelieveable how difficult it is to pick out flooring. I know, it isn't exactly as monumentous as say, achieving world peace, but it is quite a challenge. The funny thing is that when I am at someone's house or really anywhere, I don't really notice flooring. In fact, I would be pressed to tell you what flooring is in the Motel 6. ...but maybe that is just one of those memory blocks in times of great stress that will come back in flashbacks in about 10 years. So, H & I went to the floor store to wade thru the vast selection of colors and types. We had already purchased hardwood flooring for most of the downstairs of the house...that is another story in itself but let's just say H got the deal of a lifetime on it so we had to buy it LAST YEAR...before we had even sold our house. TG for credit cards. I didn't want wood in the kitchen because, well, knowing my knack for spilling things like, um, olive oil and the like I didn't want it to end up looking like it needed to be powerwashed after a year of my abuse. We decided on slate. It is timely, durable, nice looking, and expensive. Really expensive. I did my best sales pitch to convince H of all advantages, timeliness, durability, etc. We found the correct color after this well-done sales job and that was it. Ya right. When the *sample* lot came in, the slate looked like it had been scraped from the bottom of the junkyard. H phoned to say, "you aren't going to like it" ...but I figured he was still a little peeved at how my little pitch convinced him. Nope, the stuff was awful. Yes, it meant another trip to the floor store! I was really disappointed. I just didn't think I could face another few hours of greens and blues and blacks and is this ok and how about that? I trudged with a very heavy heart to the floor store on Saturday. Solo. (H was plumbing the house) After only 30 minutes (30!) I found it. The floor. OK, so who cares if it is a tad (!!) more expensive than our previous choice. It will work! It won't show dirt! Even Missy likes it!!! She loves doing pics...lol (Please note Missy has some eye probs...she is not stoned. Her tear ducts have stopped working so she has constant dry eye...it is awful! She is have surgery in April...I hope it helps her because she is the best of the best! Anyhoo, she wanted to pose with the wood, cabinet door sample, and THE FLOOR.)

My New Job - Part II

I just have a sec b/c I am at work but I want to share a happy moment. Last night I was longeing OZ, the humongous horse. It was after a rather trying day at work and I was feeling kind of beat-up...one of those days when you are really tired and you think you might call off work but you drag yourself to your desk because it is only March and you don't want to use all vaca time... after all, summer will come at some point and maybe I will want the day to sit in the sun and read. (Or sit in a new house and wonder where the hell I am going to put everything.) Than, at work everyone and everything drives you completely nuts and your co-workers all think you are not only growing larger thighs, you are also a bitch. So there I was, going round and round with OZ who was being such a complete peach. I was telepathically thanking him for being the one the one thing in the day that was cooperative while telling him out loud what a good boy he was and how fabulous he looked. (which, by the way, he did...he is a beautiful horse. No wonder he is for sale for $40K!!) El Instructor was giving a lesson in the arena and I was kind of half-listening to that in case I might pick up some tips. I heard him say, "See how nice he looks? That is just how it should go." Then the next sentance was, "Walktrotcanter is doing such a great job with him...I can't believe the difference in such a short time!" !!!!!!!!!!!! I was thrilled!!!!!!! ...even tho I acted like I did not hear it. I just tried to hide the fact that I had made OZ switch directions and the longeline was all tangled up and even knotted and if OZ had decided to bolt, my hand probably would have bolted with him. Maybe I CAN be a horse trainer after all :)

Sorry Guys!

Poor poodles...sorry to *publish* you! You can't even see poor Mr. P, the black dog...he never shows up in pictures because he is so dark! Well, at least I figured this picture thing out without too much trouble. Watch out world...we are still in the Motel 6 for a few more months! LOL

The guys lounging in the Motel 6...this is a test to see if pics will post! 

Home is where the liquor...oops, *HEART* is!

This week has been a bear...and it's only Wednesday. I honestly don't think this winter will ever end. There is a woman at work who gets really depressed every year at this time. This year has been a doosie. She has been to about 4 different doctors for about 4 different things in the past week. Today she went to the "heart doctor" because she didn't think she was getting enough oxygen to her brain. Geez, I thought, I wonder if I should go to the doctor because I am not getting enough booze to my liver. I am normally a sympathetic person for the most part; however, I have extreme issues lately as a result of living in the Motel 6 during this endless winter with someone (H) who is completely obsessed with a new house while I am kind of terrified at the thought of moving to some big place that doesn't feel like home nor does it have a yard or plants and I can't even describe all of this to H because this has been his total and lifelong dream so he just doesn't understand that I don't feel the same way about all things house. (I think that was a humongous run-on or something grammatically incorrect so many apologies to the reader here). I guess you have to be here to understand...and I am quite certain there are people in worse situations so I probably should get a grip, right? Ya, at least I have enough (I think) liquor...er, O2 circulating thru my liver...er, BRAIN.