Steppin' on the beach

This is what Em and I have been hooked on this week.  We've been known to randomly break out into this snappy Spongebob ditty--driving Joe and the cats absolutely nuts. 



Okay, it's wacky, it's silly, it's.......annoying--or so Joe says.  He is a stick in the mud, though.

Em had a few friends over last night and they were laughing because I was singing this in the kitchen while they were watching TV.

"Stephanie, does your mother sing that song?" I asked.

She just looked at me and chuckled.  "NO," she said matter of factly. 

Oh.

No school like the old school

A few weeks ago, my niece came to visit us for the day.  We were all sorta bored, so we headed out to one of our favorite places to escape the 'hood and all the noise.

This is the Little Red Schoolhouse.  I used to go here as a kid--it is a reclaimed old schoolhouse that housed a wee nature center. It featured injured turtles or orphaned opossum and all sorts of tanks for fish, snakes or other creatures.  It was simple, yet fun for families.

They have since shut it down to replace it with a SUPER DELUXE FANCY SCHMANCY nature center.  The building is massive....and new.  My little schoolhouse nature center is ruined. Oh, it's still there, you just can't go in the schoolhouse anymore. Damn, I hate when they have to make things "better."

We were all disappointed with our visit.  We hiked around the trails, but we could not escape the monster building that loomed over our shoulders at every point.  It ruined the beauty of the park and the feeling of being in nature.  Criminy.  Em summed it up best:  No school like the old school. Amen, sister.

We ditched that place after a bit and found our favorite sledding spot nearby.  It's a huge hill that overlooks a lake.  It was really lovely there that day and we ate our lunch at the top of the hill and then head down for a wee hike. 

Here is Em doing her Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music bit:

It was so lovely and deserted there that we decided to treat Joe and Sammy the Weiner Dog for a visit there to enjoy the sunset on Sunday.   We thought that would be the perfect way to end the nice weekend and chill before the work week starts again.

Yeah,  so did everyone else.

Not kidding, there was hardly a place to set your chairs down--the place was packed. There were picnics and kids running all over.  There were car radios blaring Mexican music and people riding their bikes down the hill all outta control.  There were couples smooching in the grass and folks BBQ-ing.  It was crazy.

And I was crabby.  Too many people, too much noise, too little nature and too much....I dunno....it was just too much.

Does anything stay the same anymore?

Do I sound like I'm 100 years old?  (That's what Joe said)  Hrumph. 

We got us a singer!

While I love the frogs, there is just something special about winning the tadpole lottery and getting yourself a singer.  You see, only the male frogs sing, and so, it's lucky day when your taddie turns into a crooner. 

Well, to me, anyway.

There is no heaven like a summer night, windows open, the pond water rushing over the waterfall....and a sweet little bullfrog singing the night away.  Oh, it is lovely to turn over and hear that deep song of a happy frog....

They're cute, but......

After six days of dog-sitting, I have sorta come to the conclusion that I do not want to own a dog.  I mean, I really, really do not EVER want to own a dog.  Oh, they are very nice and stuff, but....I am just not cut out for this dog ownership bit.

This is my list of why I am happily dog-free most of the year:

1.  First off, dogs are very needy. Very. Needy.  Sammy follows me everywhere....from the minute I wake up, until I finally lift him onto my bed for him to sleep for the night.  He's stuck to my leg every second of every day--well, until I joyfully go to work to escape him.  Again, I will reiterate that I love Sammy, but it's all this closeness that is driving me crazy.  I actually appreciate that my cat ignores me at this point.

2.  He stares at me when I eat.  At the dinner table, on the couch, or even when I am just grabbing a snack at the counter.  Even if I don't see him...I can feel his eyes on me. It's creepy.

3.  Dogs eat weird stuff.  Sammy has a penchant (and he's not alone on this one) for cat poop.  'Nuff said.

4.  All that barking.

5.  They leave nose-prints on my car windows.

6.  The poop.  I swear there is a magnet or something that draws Joe's feet to step in the one pile of poop in the yard. Never fails. 

7.  Wet dog smell. 

Sammy is a great dog, he really is.  And we enjoy having him here for a visit. But that's the key word...VISIT.  We are all ready to say our goodbyes when it's the end of his stay. 

Ironically, it is Sammy that is ready to ditch US long before we even get annoyed with the little guy.  Two days into his visit, he's staring at the garage door so we can bring him home.  Go figure. 

Pass the melon, please

Someone decided that I need to attend meetings at work.  I'm not sure why or what I can add to anything of importance, but lately, I attend a lot of meetings.  Criminy, I swear we have meetings to have meetings. And me, being part-time and of little importance....well, I'm not sure I need to be included. But I am. Unfortunately.

I drove nearly an hour the other morning to attend a meeting at one of our units...and I think my sole agenda was to put a major dent into the fruit tray.   I came back to my office, eyes a-glazed and my stomach chuck full of every variety of melon known to mankind. 

Three days beforehand, I was responsible for organizing another meeting....oh, and bringing the bagels for said event.   I did that part pretty well.  My note pad remained empty, but my stomach was full. The funny thing is that someone commented on how nice it was that I attended the meeting. WHAT?! I think I said about 3 words the entire meeting.  Now they think I've got something to add. Really? 

I am a peon.  I earn peon wages.  I do peon work.  I actually like being a peon.  This new world of meetings with people of importance and fruit trays is beyond me.  Count me out.  Well, unless you need someone to scarf down the complimentary bagels--then you can count me.....uh....wait....no, I don't want in then either.

I am an idiot. Can everyone please just accept that and leave me to my cubicle?  Sheesh.

BarkFest 2013

Sammy the Weiner Dog is in the HOUSE!  Whohooooo!

Sammy popped on over last Friday and promptly wanted to go home right away. Sigh.  It took a little convincing....and some mushy cat food mixed in with his dog food to get him to want to stay.  Apparently that is his Achilles' heel--he settled in quickly after that.  Who wouldn't?

Yip Yap came out yesterday and instigated BarkFest 2013, but it took some nudging to get Sam to join in.  Poor old guy can't hear much these days and so he missed a lot of the initial barking.  Of course we pushed his little dog buttons to get him going because he just loves that whole barking thing so much.  

And enjoy he did....for about a minute and a half.

Everyone is getting old now and barking your fool head off at another dog is apparently exhausting in your elderly dog years.  They no sooner got their barkers going and they pooped out.  Kinda sad.

So, with BarkFest outta the way, Sammy can now enjoy a lot of napping.....and snoring.  It's exhausting having so much fun at our house.

Mean Old Six Million Dollar Man

This is what is making me laugh these days:

Mean Old Man....wearing his Six Million Dollar Man gear.  Oh, he doesn't let that brace get in the way of his crabby old ways. Nope. No sir.

Here he is, doing his neighborhood watch thing.  He stands there, with his hands on his hips, staring down the street for no-goodniks. I haven't seen any lately, so apparently it's working.

That new brace he's sportin' just reminds me of this and then I giggle:



We can rebuild him. We have the technology.  Better. Stronger. Faster.  Mean Old Six Million Dollar Man.