My Dogs Have Tissues

I know, I am famous for my misspellings.


I freely admit that I spell like a frog on acid, the hippy-drug acid not the etch-your-glass acid. But the title is not a typo or misspelling. I know Dear Reader, you think that I mean to say that my dogs have issues. And as well you know, I have rat terriers, blind border collies and a orphan drug dog rescued from a dysfunctional family, so it is easy to jump to the conclusion that I mean to tell you today that my dogs have issues. And for sure they may, but today they have tissues.



A whole box to be exact! They did this on my bed. You're right Dear Reader, when you say, "most likely because they have issues." It appeared from the evidence that they were after the glue in the cardboard box that once contained the tissues. Next time I just leave them some glue in their dish. Or maybe they would like glue in its raw form and I'll have Dirt trim feet on the livestock for them.

Hey, today is Fat Tuesday, a celebration I've never really gotten into.

One time, some friends took me up to the Seattle celebration of it back in '78. Uh, I'll grant you that I was very rebellious at that time in my life, but the "whole wander city alley ways drunk out of your mind in the middle of winter" thing?, not my ideer of fun.

And then in 2001 the Pioneer Square business sponsored Fat Tuesday "celebration" turned violent and a young man was murdered, kicked and stomped to death in a crowd of people, businesses were looted, a woman was hit by a car, there were many injuries, hospital emergency rooms were packed and seemily every cop in Seattle was all over the situation but not making much of a dent in the violence. Then the next morning the region had an earthquake, the epi center was sixty miles away from Seattle's Pioneer Square, yet it was in the Square where the most damage occured. There were many business that had to close down because the front of their buildings were in a heap on the sidewalks, they were connected to those buildings or their building had incurred such structural damage as to close them until they could be repaired. Connect the dots?

Come on, you're really going to tell me that all those people in the most famous of all Fat Tuesday celebrating regions are really ready to settle down to a good bout of self abnegation for the next forty days when they get up tomorrow morning? I didn't think so.

There is a huge difference between eating up all the eggs and meat before the fast starts and running around naked in a crowd of rebellious sin-filled drunks.

So we will have a bit of indulgence today, a little feast perhaps before the fast, in the form of cake (already had a bit of chocolate with my coffee), but no nakedness, no debauchary, no reveling in sin.

Hey, you might say, "You need to eat a box of tissues to assuage your issues today," eh?

Dear Reader, perhaps you and I should take time today to listen to God, is He calling us to a deeper discipline? Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in accord with the calendar, maybe next week, maybe in the middle of tonight on Saturday. Sometimes He taps us when we least expect it. Sometimes we least expect it when it is blatantly obvious and written on someone else's calendar.

Did I Have Oatmeal In My Mouth? But Before You Answer That, Call the Police, I've Been Robbed!

Okay, that was a long title. But this is a really long post, so it should have a long odd title.

Dear Reader, please do not feel obligated to read it or even finish the whole thing once you start. I do not hold that you must belong to the clean plate club around here, I would be sad indeed if I knew I caused indigestion. I only desire that you have fun (well that and grow in Christ and tell me when I am not). So if you have somewhere else to go, something fun to do, go do it, this is no place for you to be today.




I was robbed this afternoon. I'm sure it would barely make it as a misdemenor but it is upsetting none the less.

It was no burglery either, this woman, young woman, walked boldly into my house today and ripped me off. The item was only worth twenty-five bucks but the feeling of helplessness that overcame me was awful. I have never felt anything like it.

Not to mention she chatted with me as if it was no big deal. The boldness these days.

I was going to sell Christmas Kitty's brother in the next week or two and instead this woman just came and took him. And if she thinks that bringing me some fluffy coffee-esque drink from her place of business and a pound of coffee beans makes up for the theft she has got another thing coming. I get those from her anyway, almost once a month, for nothing. And now somehow she thinks waltzing in here with a coffee in her hand entitles her to waltzing out with my product!

I'm telling you, children, even grown ones have no respect these days. And her sister, Anna, so willing to aid and abet. What is this world coming too?

And on top of that she probably won't name him what he is supposed to be named. It will be another "Questie" aka "I Have A Question" debaucle but at least Mr. Woolsey's people paid for him, paid for the right to ignore my better naming skills. But this chick, an ex Vick Chick, just hauled "Seven Dirtson" outa here with a snicker about his name.


Come on folks, who of you can deny that that is clearly a seven on his chest and that he is sporting a goatee thingy that looks just like Dirt's. On top of that, those close to Dirt know all about his freaky attachment to the number seven, the number of completeness. This is a complete cat! And she just took it. I'm not so sure she even said thank you. I know her husband won't. (I'm thinking he is saying something entirely different tonight actually, poor guy.)

You know, now that I think about it, I'll bet I coulda gotten way more for him. Mildred, how much do you think they got for Heartkun? I bet he didn't go for no stinking twenty-five bucks and how hard is it to find heart-shaped stuff, Sharilyn, at It's A Heart Rock Life, finds heart shaped stuff all over the place. She has a zillion things heart-shaped. Anybody out there got a blog about finding seven-shaped stuff? I don't think so.

And wouldn't that be cool, stuff shaped like the number for completeness. You could go freaky with all the hidden meaning of that, so clearly the fact that no one has a blog about seven-shaped stuff indicates that there are not any random not-really-sevens-seven-shaped items out there and therefore my cat that was stolen from my house today is highly valuable. I'm thinking grand theft valuable.

Add on to that that he has an uncanny resemblance to the master of the house he was born in, who has an eccentric fondness for seven, the number of completeness and you've got a million dollar cat theft performed today. (Or is that "who" supposed to be a "whom"? I always have problems with that problem, I think it should be "whom" 'cuz it refers not to the subject but it just sounds weird. Help me out Kathy, you are good at that "who" "whom" stuff)

Oh well, I suppose because I cheerfully waved good-bye to her and handed her the shots for the cat she has at home, it would be hard to pin this grand theft on my second oldest daughter, Michelle, I suppose it really wouldn't make sense and no one would understand me. Kind of like when I wrote my last post. I musta had oatmeal in my mouth cause somebody did not understand me.




No, Wingmaster, I will not be drinking any of Dirt's Appletini disguised as wine while thinking of politics. Clearly even having had it in the home and perhaps previously drinking it (I reserve the right to retain deniablity) has caused me to be terrible at getting my point across.

Daisy, I appreciate your encouragement and support but clearly I am not a very good writer even though you are so kind to tell me that sometimes.

Because in my post on Thursday I could have sworn that I did not make any reference to my being fearful.

I could have sworn I did not say that I hated anyone, including anyone in the current President's political party, of which I am a registered member and have, up until this year, voted as such (or for some third party party) in Presidential elections since I was eighteen.

I could have sworn that I never denied the Soveriegnty of God, in this or any other post, and in fact stated something to the effect that I was glad I knew Him because He never changes and my salvation rests with Him, in Jesus, not my government no matter who is at the helm.

I could have sworn that I explicitly said that I was not talking about policies like: two wars, the economy, the creation of gitmo, Americans torturing prisoners, illegal phone tapping of Americans, the lowering of taxes, increases in spending or abortion or the disregard of the rights of certain citizens.

I could have sworn that I said that by actually saying-writing: "I'm not at this point even really speaking of his policies, policies that include spending ridiculous amounts of money on programs shown to be corrupt and hindering at worst or ineffectual at best, or having us spend government funds for people choosing foolishness and the murder it takes to dispose of the resulting inconvenience. I'm speaking of something far more insidious. "

So I must have had oatmeal in my mouth or sumpin' because Don is really nice guy (an opinion based on reading his blog) who is in the eduction field, has cool chicks (baby chickens), and a georgeous barn and builds really nice picnic tables for his school's fundraisers.

So I guess I owe an apology to anyone else who misunderstood what I was saying. If anyone thought that I was saying that our nation is perfect just the way it is, I am sorry because I know it is not. But it has also done some amazing things in the past and the basic ideology that defines America is a darn good one and one that has helped her through her mistakes and has enabled corrections which are by no means complete.

And don't we all misunderstand one another most of the time?

Sometimes I become so frustrated at the misunderstandings that I come away with when I read something. If I would just slow down and take a good look at something I am sure that I would not misunderstand half of what I do. Like how I misunderstood, I'm sure, that I was being told that I have the power, little ol' me, to thwart all the good leadership President Obama could give us because I have a closed spirit. (What is a closed spirit? I think I do have one because it is hopefully soley under the ownership of the Triune God, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, so I guess that would be closed because I have no intention of selling it to anyone else.)

So clear over here, all the way across this huge great country of ours, I have the ability to make Obama a bad leader, because I have a closed spirit because I think, based on analysis of his own words and history, that he has some dangerous things up his sleeve. Now that is just a crazy idea so I really must have misunderstood that comment.

Because if Obama is a great leader, I cannot stop him. I would certainly not even want to. The idea is kinda funny because my closed spirit is the same spirit that leads me, nay commands me then leads me, to I pray that he is a good leader and that he will listen to the God he claims to follow, the very same God that my spirit is sold out to. So clearly I misunderstood that comment.

But thank goodness I just write on this here (well and two other) blog(s), and that I don't write anything important. It is a good thing that no one is forced to read my incoherant mush mouth writings, unless it is their funny bone forcing them to read it for my ridiculous ideas.

I usually don't write follow up on comments that bother me, but really all joking aside this one really touched me because it really made me feel misunderstood. But unfortunately I am a slow learner, very very very slow. So it will take me a few more outspoken posts that someone is going to misunderstand that I will feel I need to clarify, before I shut up about our country and just write sweet little posts about skinning moles.

Which isn't to say that people only mis-read what I say on these serious political-ish type posts. But I usually never feel the need to clarify when someone says cake when I wrote that I made a pie or calls my sheep chickens or wonders why my son Anna rides a quad.


If there is only one thing Dear Reader that I hope you know about me is that my hope lies with God and God alone. And that hope is very different from the hope that says "I hope the weather is nice tomorrow," or "I hope Obama is a good leader." Because I will stake my life on my hope in God but I will not stake my life on the weather or a leader, although I hope that if I feel it is God directed I would be willing to lay down my life for my country. Please understand that my political concern is not that I think that the beauty of my life depends on who is in office, locally, nationally or otherwise. Any beauty or comfort or assurance in my life comes from God.

Also Dear Reader, I wish to put to rest the idea that I am afraid. I am not fear-filled. My trust in God prevents me from being afraid. However, I can recognize a dangerous situation. (Some might call it discernement.) I can recognized that it is a little more dangerous for me to attempt to stand on the top rung of my sixteen foot ladder than it is for me to do so on my ten foot ladder. But I am not afraid of my ladder, (okay, my adrenaline surges when I look down but I'm not afraid.)

It is dangerous for my kids to walk on ice that is not tested, but I am not afraid of the frozen pond. It is dangerous for a leader to go unchecked and for nearly everyone to say no one can say anything critical of him, but I am not afraid of leaders or even afraid of those who are unwilling to be critical of a current leader but I can choose to not read their anti American rhetoric.

But I am not afraid. I trust God no matter how bad things look or actually become. I have nothing else.

Ice Is Nice

Frozen weather meant that early Tuesday the girls went out and skated on the deepest pond on the farm.

At one-ish when Steph (with the skates over her shoulder) brought the boys out to skate the moms decided that the deep pond was a little too scary. So we opted for the pasture pond on the other side of the farm.

The blue heron said it was just fine over here, he weight tested it for us. His neck alone weighs the same as a small child, well maybe not, but it is way thick don't you think?

So everyone hoped off of the quad and started to put on their skates.

The moms headed over to the other side of the pond for better picture taking.

It is not easy to get skates on.

Not one bit easy but eventually they go on and everyone is on the ice.

Well, except for those who like to nibble on wires, yum an unoccupied quad to eat!

Skates can be a little weird feeling at first and hard to handle.

But you'll get there.

Oof! Maybe it will take a bit.


Aunties to the rescue! We can't teach you but we'll cheer you on.

And sometimes that is all a person needs! Up and away! This is great and Kai is having a ton of fun, ooh wait, lets not mention tons while on the ice!

Now it is Aksel's turn. Okay, so he isn't skating as much as he is rubber sole-ing it.

Hey, he's getting it, isn't this fun!

Come on, you're doing well, we've got you, it is fun to be out here. Who needs lunch?

Okay, so not everyone likes the whole ice thing.


But the Aunties pretty much live for the opportunity to skate on their ponds.

Ooopsie.I think she is getting her sea legs back, looking good.

Here comes speedy.

Hey lets see some tricks!

That was cool too bad I missed it.

Now that's nice, how pretty, a little spin on the ice.

Okay now I'm dizzy and this is not a video.

She's coming for me, look out !

Yikes! Lets shred some ice! Nice landing, did some one say she wished she played hockey?

But not little princess she has had enough!

Lets go have some cocoa.

This House is Crowded!

"Roll over."

"I was here first."

"Well this is where I always sleep."



When I got up this morning and stumbled into the kitchen where Dirt was making himself a sandwich. I heard the giggle of Anna's doves. They came inside the night before only to go out briefly yesterday to fly in their aviary. The quail seem to handle the cold better than the doves. Which is a good thing, I am not sure I am up to eight hyper quail (work that into the Twelve Days of Christmas) in my house. The doves will be in on my Cook's porch until the weather returns to normal.

Patty, the Border Collie with no hair, is another refuge from outside. Just to cold for a girl with hair issues.


The rat terrier girls are none to happy with this situation, the whole "Border Collie inside" thing is bad enough but...


way more cats than usual were in for the tonight and most likely all of today and tomorrow and...

hopefully Purr Bobb and Winter (above) will get their issues worked out. There was quite a ruckus this morning over this clearly superior place to sleep, if you're a cat that is.

The kittens seem to be the only ones not having their sleeping arrangements challenged.

The two old gals have long since given up fighting over sleeping spots and have decided that sharing a space is the warmer softer thing to do.

Although I'm not sure how squeezing yourself into this tiny basket can be anything remotely comfortable, Moose has always insisted on sleeping in the impossible places.

Not momma Pippy, she'll take whatever comfy wide open place she can get as long as she doesn't have to be in with her crazy children any longer than she has to.

Stephanie is wondering what all we had for company under the house. I'd rather not think about that it was bad enough last night when Anna was thinking that she needed to bring Macey the Mouse in! On that, I drew the line, a very large heavy black line!

Well it took from six am to nearly one o'clock in the afternoon to get this written up. I have at least one project going in each room of my house and as many as three!

Now that Steph is here with the boys we are going over to watch the children skate (and maybe do a little ourselves) and then make divinity while the making is good.

Hope your Advent day is going well dear reader!

If I Was Gunna Be In A Box....

I'd be like Purr Bob and get in this kind of box.

I wouldn't get in this kinda box....

And if I wouldn't get in that kinda box but would

rather be here instead,

then why would I put something I spend time with, that I miss when it is gone, can't really get into substitution no matter how lovely, something that I have named,

why would I put it in this unfortunate box?

Exactly!

Well Purr Bob has come to his senses, momentarily anyway, and is getting out.

So am I.

I am not sending my computer in just because they managed to make him forget he had a big boy keyboard. It is just a matter of learning and making it become automatic to hit the num lock key before I use the key pad. Big deal one extra key stroke, well two actually, on and off, but what the heck I usually hit a half dozen extra keys so what is one more intentional one, twice.

So I have homeied up Conrad and he is looking very much like himself again. Actually more like himself than when he first got back from his long spa vacation. I am glad I have decided to not send him in. The only problem is the key board thing and I'm determined that it will be okay. And yes, I have given my computer a name. I am positive now that I have anthropomorphized my computer all will be fine from here on out. I won't mistreat it and it will behave like a good Conrad.

I'm outa here, going to where there is no light, no sound and only a pillow. I am taking a little pill, biggish actually, with me in hopes that I can call an end to the stupid head. I might actually take Conrad so he can play a little Pachelbel on Pandora. Dirt is kinda tired of me being sorta short tempered so even though I feel like chopping my head off, he actually might.

Joining Others

In their slight jumps on the season.

But I just couldn't resist.

Anna brought a little something in from the barn around mid-morning and it really needed a homey-home and what better than a Christmas basket, lined with a lovely plaid woolen and tied with a big bow.

What was it that needed homey-home?

Pippy and her three little kittens.

A little black one, a black and white one and my calico! Santa brought me my Christmas kitten to my house!

I have been wanting a calico because my beloved Moose is not doing well and we found out this week doesn't have long to live, but I think we kind of knew that.

Moose is an alias for Amie Jo. Amie Joe and Mary Joe were the last kittens that Monique, aka Bony, had and they ended up being bottle babies. Mary Joe, a calico much like the one in the Christmas basket, only lived for a couple of years.

Moose was our main momma cat for quite a while, we had her spade and then she developed this mouth thing. Well Dale, our landlord/neighbor/vet, would give her a shot every so often so that she could feel a little better and eat.

Moose was due for a shot again when Dale was expected home, but now that he isn't coming home, well I was getting very worried about my little Moose momma. She spent two whole days, yes, the entire day, curled up in my room, appreciating an occasional petting but never getting up.

So dear Dirt called one of his shearing customers, Michelle, who happens to have been one of the vets that worked with Dale at the clinic before he retired. She was on vacation but she was very sweet to call Dirt back. They discussed what the shot could possibly have been that Dale was giving her since he wouldn't tell the girls.

Well, Michelle's bad news was that the chronic use of the medicine that they discovered he was using will in fact make her death certain soon. That must be why Dale wouldn't tell, he knows I would be curious and find out about it. He was a softy. A General Patton on the outside and a Mother Teresa on the inside.

The reality of it is that she would not have lasted this long without the medicine so really the medicine maybe killing her but the disease, whatever it is, would have done it first. But now that Moose has received her shot she looks a little better today but in all reality she doesn't look as good as she used to after the shot.

That is why it is good that I got my Christmas kitten now. I needed a bright spot in my little world. Now no more Christmas decorations until next weekend!

Things In the Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

PurrBob the hockey player

It may appear as if I skipped a day but I didn't because it is not a new day until I go to sleep and wake up again. So my computer may think it is tomorrow today but it is still today to me

Why am I up so late? Because my brain is on fire still and lying down is not appealing. So the pups are on the couch now after being excited to still be up after the girls went to bed and Purr Bob is tearing down my house. I have righted a pitcher and a picture, rescued a notepad from being eaten not read and now he is playing tile hockey in the dinning room probably with a bottle cap of Dirt's.

You may ask, dear Reader, why I don't just throw his furry little self out the door? Because if he is left out at night he climbs the clematis and the fire escape to the girls window and tries to get in. Not necessarily a bad choice, until you know that he is on a metal roof whilst doing his shenanigans. So in he stays at the request of the concerned pet owners.

I did not finish my rejuvenation project today but I most definitely will have it and more done by Thursday.

I realized I can't really replant everything until I have taken up some plants from connecting beds that I wish to put in the one I am working on. I also need to put some of the ones I have been taking out into the other adjoining beds.

And I think I am going to have Dirt bring home a bag or two of Alfalfa pellets to put into the top six inches of the soil before I plant. I haven't priced alfalfa pellets in a while so I am not sure what has happened with the price of them. We'll see.

This maniac is still terrorizing my kitchen and dining room. I wonder what destruction I will wake up to. Dirt has requested that I try to get some sleep so I am going, with a long prayer list to distract myself from my four days of searing brain matter.

Finishing Up Before The Season Ends

Okay, so here is the last of my "Marie Antoinette A Real Person, A Real Award" given to me by that_Dancing_Daisy! The title of the award helped my pick my nominees for sure, but they also happen to be the very same blogs that I look forward to reading when I get my random chance to sit with my lap top.

This whole award thing is difficult, I wish that every non-professional (real person) writer who has the fortitude to put their writing out there in a potentially public arena even once, get a pat on their back. But then the old 4-H leader side of my brain kicks in and says to the warm fuzzy side of my brain "If everyone gets an award then the award means very little." Ooh ow.

There are two blogs I would have liked to award but they just started yesterday so maybe next time. I'm looking forward to reading them but I have no idea if they are a false start or in for the long haul.

There are a couple other blogs that I like but really wish that they would venture out a little more often, so if you don't see yourself on my list here, write more often! Take a few minutes and write something down and hit the publish button! I don't read magazines any more I just read blogs. I like the long articles and the snippets just the same. Okay, the 4-H leader lobe of my brain will now disengage. Oh and I tried to pick blogs that may not have recieved many awardy things but, there you go, there are my reasons. 4-H teaches that judges should always give reasons. And mine couldn't be any worse than a jusdge at a sheep show who based his reasons on gender.

So here are those whom I wish to feel as good as I did when Daisy gave me the award:

Marla enjoying her Life_Is_A_Chair_Of_Bowlies

Suzie Digging_In_The_Dirt

Kathleen being gentle with Eggs_In_My_Pocket

Farm Chick Paula having a good life at The_Fraker_Farm

Flip Flop being light and encouraging as a Flip_Flop_Floozie

Linda Sue honestly Living_In_Buhl-a-land

Ted a thoughtful, prayerful member in Jesus_Community

If they accept this award they need to do what I eventually did:


1. Please put the logo on your blog
2. Place a link to the person from whom you received the award
3. Nominate at least 7 or more blogs
4. Put the links of those blogs on your blog
5. Leave a message on their blogs to tell them


Now I am off to revitalize and rearrange a large flower bed

Everything is coming out, red tulips are going in and some things will go back and somethings like the unruly bully Siberian Iris (the large brown mass laying on his neighbors) will be removed to a place where they will be appreciated and not harrumphed at.

Oh and Dirt has asked where his cool fence is. He didn't think it ought to be covered by my sweet smelling honeysuckle. So hopefully before he gets home he will be able to see his fence again.

By the way Bee, Winter, the cat, has a enourmous mouse like thing, not a rat, and not a frog, in the picture in my post, I'm Groovy . Although he is not above a getting a frog for dinner, the ponds are still a little low and the mud rimming the ponds deters him from adding seafood to his diet right now. He may look like a warrior sometimes but he is a little on the prissy side, like Heath in The Big Valley he wears white pants to do farm work in.

Bet wanted to identify the rodent he caught in the ivy jungle and then ran across the yard with to hide under the mock orange. But he was not sharing. He knows she was just going to take it from him and skin it to add to her collection, (not really but that is how he sees it).