Bucket List

We had to put our dog, Carlos, down this past weekend.  Granted he was old and sick, but the void he left is taking some real adjusting.  We got Carlos from a breeder in Sebastopol in January, 1999.  As are all Jack Russells, he was an adorable puppy, and like all Jack Russells had an understanding of how his world should be organized.  He was named for Carlos the Jackal.  My fondest memory of him as a puppy is being tucked in the crook of Steve's arm, under loads of jacket and sweaters, driving a massive tractor around in the freezing cold.  He was meant to be my dog,  but from the start he chose Steve and there was never a closer bond of boy and dog.  He was a fearsome ground squirrel killer and managed to dispatch as many as ten a day on a good day.  He like to shared his um meals with Steve when he could.  He also deposited a squirrel in daughter Alison's car which then was parked for two weeks in the sun.  It was a rather pungent surprise for her when she came home.  Little tyke.  He was very territorial and all who were not approved were the enemy.  Most folks were not approved.  Katie, I hope you are paying attention.  He was partial to the back turned then assault.  But a few were treated to full on aggression.  If you showed fear he was on the offensive in a trice.  If you saw straight through him, all but a few did, he was the sweetest little serial killer you've ever known.  He had a mentor in Barnaby the fox hound.  Barnaby was also fearless and a great protector of hearth and home and any other place he happened to be.  He was also the great varmint hunter, in particular the hunter of the wily coyote!  He would hunt with little Carlos and when he came upon a pack of the coyote trespassers he would come at a full gallop to them and literally bowl the pack over.  Then Carlos would bark and snap till the interlopers were sent on their way.  You could see him literally dusting his paws off when the enemy was sent packing.  In the past three years he's been pretty ill and eventually lost his eyesight completely due to complications of diabetes.  But he stoically managed until suddenly the other night it all became too much for him and he let us know the time had come.  Rest in Peace Carlos.  10/25/1998 - 4/14/2012.  You were a fine little dog.

It has been a pretty rough few days in my life with Carlos and Amy Tryon both passing suddenly.  I have been left with a pretty big empty spot in my heart/soul whatever that threatens to become tears in unsuspected moments.  But naturally it seems prudent to make a bucket list cause stuff happens and you/I should have filled as many moments as you/I have left with stuff to do.

• Go to the Kentucky Derby.  And if possible the Preakness and Belmont as well.
• Visit Connecticut, New Hampshire, Maine and Rhode Island.
• Go to Badminton and Burghley and Gatcombe again.
• Go to Rolex again
• Visit the south of France
• Touch a snake, (for Gods sake why?)
• Have another horse to compete
• Go to Bermuda, Aruba and Puerto Rico.  And if possible to do that from a good sized sail boat with a load of friends.
• Insist that my funeral arrangements be a nice long boat trip out on the ocean and a burial at sea.  That is a real and honest wish.  You may have KD Lang along to sing "Hallelujah".  I'm sure she's not busy.  I would also like it very much if everyone who goes out for the final voyage misbehaves and shows unimaginable immaturity.  Thanks in advance
• Wear a size 6 again.
• Most of all I want to keep all my family near.  And all my friends, both of you, in my life.  And btw I have some openings for new friends as well.  

That should be a good start.  Carpe Diem


Cheers,
Squidgy

A virtual mish mash

So this is the creepiest tattoo I've ever, I mean EVER seen.  Not that I make it a habit to study tattoos, but, well, anyway I couldn't keep it to myself.  Good thing I have y'all to share with.

Specifically this issue is for #3 son-in-law who whined that-
1.) the blog is too long...um not possible slacker
and
2.) There aren't any pictures.  Um this is a picture
And thanks for the asparagus Farmer Boy, it was derishes with Parmesan and oil roasted in the oven.  yum
Sorry there aren't any pictures of that, food pix bug me as I have stated on Face Book.  Not that anyone paid any attention.

Hi There!  How was your Easter? The bald guy at the grocery store had his head painted like an Easter egg.  It seems he's had it done for the past eight years running.  What happened at your market?

We have a week more of rain to look forward to starting tomorrow, joy.  We're heading off to  Fresno (again) on Thursday night and so far the forecast is for rain on Friday and sunny rain on Saturday.  I say sunny rain because that's what it looks like on the weather app on my phone.  Who is the person who designs the whatever they're called pictures for apps anyway?  I have a hard time believing, "Hey!  That's a GREAT picture!  Let's use it for sunny rain.  You go nerd!"

I read other peoples blogs over the weekend.  You know who you are, that interview with Ollie Townends brain monkey slayed me.  You may find it on Eventing Nation. 

That picture creeps me out.  Strangely, the eyebrows look those of one of my cousins and he's not even a serial killer that we know of.

look up

Happy Birthday Sue!  I left you a message on FB.  So, Sue, your horse is a rock star!  yeah you!  and Linda?  what can I say?  I am honored your horse friended me on FB!  You non horsie types?  yes, we really talk like this.  sorry.  If it makes you feel any better my #$%^&* dawgs have Face Book  or rather dog book pages.  Yeah, well?  Here's a picture of the dawgs.  They look guilty because they are guilty.  This picture is titled "Dawgs and a dead flower"  Pretty snazzy eh?   It could also be entitled "You've stolen my soul"  except their souls are black and mostly rotted, really not worth stealing.  :-)


I figured out Pinterest yesterday.  And because it's annoying I've started following other peoples Pinterest pages.  Basically what Pinterest is is a virtual pin board (bored)  where you "pin" stuff you find whilst screwing around on the Internet or whilst stalking other peoples Pinterest boards.  Once you have happened upon an image of something you like or are intrigued by,  then you can "pin" or "repin" the images on your own board (bored).  If you're as clever as I, you can have many boards.  Mine are labeled Horse Stuff, House Stuff, Family Stuff, Weird Stuff, Clothes Stuff, Hair Stuff and it's mostly all either lovely or strange...or both.  Mostly both.  Lots of really cool people are following me.  Are you?  What does that mean?

Chicken and Dumplings for dinner.  Really?  Delicious.  Comforting.  Homie. lol  Dying to say that all day.

"Words With Friends" has taken over my life.  I have about eight or nine games going  right now.  I'm not clever.  I just throw letters at the board with the fervent hope that they will make a word that is acceptable and also hope to hit bonus squares.  It is the secret to my success.  I get beat all the time.  BTW Satan and bitched were not accepted.  WTF but neither was wrad which would have scored a lot of points but there you go.


So, in an effort to be frugal and other stupid stuff, I went to a stylist for a haircut based solely on the recommendation of some woman who was in front of me in line at the market.  Her hair looked awesome.  So I said, "Um excuse me, your hair looks terrific.  Do you mind telling me who cuts it?"  and she smiled a little condescendingly and said, "I geet eet cut by Errrrrasmosssss."  and I said, "what?"  and she rolled her eyes and said "Errrrrasmosss,  I ave been having eet cut by heem forrrr pipteen yearrrrs.  I don' eben tell heeem what to do any more."  and another smile.  Somewhat intimidated by now, I may too have rolled my eyes and said, "is he/she/it local?"  and she said "hee iz the best stylist in the world"  or something like that.  So I wound up the conversation by axing if she had his number and she did and she gave it to me and I called and made an appointment.  Let me just cut (ha ha gittit?) to the chase.  I went, we discussed Mexico, the fact that the lady in the store was from Puerto Rico, and that he'd never even sat on a horse.  What ever.  So the whole time he wasss cutting away and I was, as usual,  scrupulously not paying attention to the snipping of hairs and finally I was cut, blown dry and out the door and my hair looked if not great, then certainly good enough.  That is till I tried my own personal magic wherein I washed and styled it myself and discovered to my horror that what I really had was a combination mullet and Moe from the 3-stooges style.  I am not happy.  Now what this really means is that I have to call Tiffany, who has "done" my hair for over five years and whom I should never, ever, ever forsake.  And I shall have to grovel until she agrees to fix this mess and take poetic license of her own bend to repair the damage.  She will spend a good deal of time not telling me what an unfaithful b**** I am but making that point unnervingly plain.  Let this be a lesson to all y'all.  Don't piss your hair stylist off.  Don't tread in unfamiliar waters.  Be true.  I'm the one in the hat till she agrees to see me and she may make me wait a while just to make her point crystal clear.  I'm sad.

Another chapter down the tubes.  Do as I say not as I do.  That will always be the best course.
Cheers,

Squidgy

Waiting for Nothing

I'm in a funk.  My cute little car decided to do a bunk and in order to reestablish itself to its usual good natured reliability, it required new tires plus an additional $3000.00 worth of work.  If I house sit for the rest of my life I might be able to repay the loan established to get those repairs done.  On the upside, the car handles so much better now that the shuddering and shaking is gone.  Sort of like going through a 12 step program or methadone therapy or something.  sigh

I swear its true.  The youngest daughter requested my valuable child rearing skills again last Saturday so she and her beloved could go fraternize with friends and drink too much and whatnot.  This time no one melted down until well in to the third hour of my vigilance.  And then only for a little while, though I must say being told to "Leave me alone" from a four year old kinda sucks.  Sadly, the mother did not think it a good idea to prepare a nourishing and healthy meal before she hightailed is outta there. No, she left that little detail to yours truly.  I must be still a little on the defensive from when I used to feed my own brood when they were young and having them tell me that everything was disgusting and so and so won't eat anything green and another so and so won't eat brown stuff the other so and so would only eat processed food.  I used to have frequent nervous break downs and go to my room for a self imposed "time outs".  Anyway, so I was faced with the daunting task of feeding the grand offspring.  The mother suggested hot dawgs.  All I can say is at least they weren't some tofu inspired soy substitute uselessness.  If you are of the leaning to enjoy such stuff, well bully, but hot dawgs are meant to be suspect in their content and that's that.  So anyway I also decided the little darlings should have something green so I nuked broccoli (little trees btw), stuffed sticks through the dawgs for Mila and Silas, squished ketchup on their plates and did not stuff sticks into Jacks, but prepared for him a multi-grain sprouted something or other bun with only mustard, bon apetit" or what ever.  And they ate!  Even the green stuff.  good deal.

I also got to supervise the darlings yesterday!  Do I look like a nanny?  Or even a good person?  Someone should contact the authorities.  In any case I treated the darlings to frozen yogurt with three toppings and then took them off to a park so they could run off the sugar ingested from gummie bears, marshmallows and mini M&M's.  Swell.  So they ran around and gamboled and I studiously ignored any grievous misbehaviour and tried not to think of all the germs that had to be breeding rampantly on the swings and stuff and just closed my eyes to the backed up water fountain that ALL the children were using.  Parks are gross.  The mother arrived, the girl child had a freak out and I left.

I had the opportunity to go to WalMart after my park stint.  You should be particular which WalMart you frequent.  No really.  You should.  Barring that perhaps just not going to WalMart is OK too.  None the less, off to WalMart I went with the sole purpose of buying syringes for the @#%^& dawg who requires twice daily insulin injections.  And some fascinating people watching.   Have you received copies of the WalMart shoppers email?  Tasteful shots of some folks who have no access to a mirror.  It makes its way around annually.  But back to my personal experience, yesterdays winner was the plus sized woman in a HUGE leopard print Sari or something all in black and yellow and gold with a matching (not) head scarf in an understated fluorescent pink shade.  Eyes watering, I made my way to the nearest exit.  You can't leave WalMart in a hurry because then the store police assume you have "borrowed" stuff.  The exit walk has to be fairly precise.  I was safe because I only had one item and I had a receipt for it.  Thank God.  You know I've seen three shoplifting take downs at my neighborhood market in the last year.  I've lived in some pretty shady areas in my life and Vacaville is certainly not the worst of the worst, but three take downs at a relatively upscale market?  Either they have no sense of humor with theft or Safeway just builds  thievery into its working budget.  What say you?  Maybe I just need a life.

None of my valuable work opportunities panned out last weekend.  I had (count them) three gigs to choose from and not even one came to fruition.  See paragraph one.

I've resumed my gym attendance.  In fact I was supposed to go to a yogalates class this morning, but I forgot.  They have new recumbent bikes.  So usually I sit on one of them and pedal furiously for a time and listen to a book and play Mah Jong or Words w/Frenemies.  That way time goes faster and I can ignore the weird little ancient man in the black Adidas who always shuffles in after me and always sits on a bike next to me and pretends to read the paper.  creepy.  The other day I decided to incorporate some weights and other machine torture to my routine and the creepy guy followed me in there as well. ew.  Someone take pity on my and treat me to a nice full body liposuction so I can be safe.  Really.

OK, so I've read the Hunger Games and the sequels.  Go ahead and read them.  But basically the message is Government is bad and corrupt.  Revolution happens.  There are losers, they are punished.  And there are winners.  They might be bad.  Brand new shiny Government is  formed.  Government is bad and corrupt.  Good is bad.  Bad is good.  Rinse, repeat.  You're welcome.

What else am I reading?  Rick Riordan and the Tres Navarre series.  Irreverent private investigator in San Antonio.  Yup Pulitzer material, and entertaining.  Evidently he also writes some fantasy, sci fi stuff, but I don't hang with that genre usually,  so I have no review to share.   I just finished the Dismas Hardy series, by John Lescroat (lawyer in San Francisco, irreverent and a winner.)  If you really want weird, and who doesn't? I recommend the Donovan Creed series and please, start with the first one and read in order or you'll miss a big, important part.  They are written by John Locke.  He also writes a series with Emmett Love.  Also entertaining.  If you like weird and just outlandish.  Katie, you would be a fan because everyone is just a hot mess and I know you like that.  Think Gramma Mazur as the normal one.  You get my drift.

Tomorrow is current #1 son-in-laws birthday.  He's #1 cause he'll be forty.  Lordy lordy.  I should mail him a card with a pithy, witty message.  Perhaps I'll just send him the other #1 son-in-laws card from January that I never sent.  The sentiment is the same for all of them.  Except #3 son-in-law.  The #3 son-in-law is OK with me having my drivers license taken away down the road and being required to ride the seniors community bus to get around.  It will be a very long time till he digs his way out of that nonsense.  Planning my revenge as we speak.

I have to confess that the trip that was planned for a great family outing to Disneyland, the Grand Canyon and Carlsbad/Loving, New Mexico fizzled and died.  I'm not really that chuffed about it, but the newest grandson has not had the benefit of my "special" attention.  And his hair is a mess.

But really, ain't he just the cutest lil thang? 

I'll leave you with that.  Au Revoir mon amis.

Cheers,

Squidgy