What a dog!

Having a puppy really makes you appreciate the older dog. I mean REALLY appreciate, not any of that fake appreciation crap. I am going to rename our entire family after Herbie and leave him all of my possessions.

Herbie knows the routine. Olive knows nothing. Herbie knows how to go outside for his needs. Olive knows nothing. Herbie eats his food, drinks his water and never tips over the vintage food bowls in anger when the food is gone. Olive knows nothing, wait, she knows how to do that.

Olive knows how to squeeze her puff ball self underneath the rhododendron that is covered in dying blossoms, bugs the size of my hand, dew, spiders the size of my state, and some sort of disgusting goo. Then she rolls around in dirt that I am sure carries some sort of toxic, to humans but not to idiot dogs, disease and presents herself like she just won some sort of friggin' beauty pageant to the front door. At which case I get to bathe her, dry her, brush her, only to have her shoot out the front door and fling herself back under the bush. Brainiac she is not.

Herbie sleeps. Olive recharges. Herbie wiggles and lets you pet him. Olive charges you and then tries to destroy anything she can reach with her mouth. And for you not in the know, puppy teeth HURT. It is like 1 million needles piercing your skin, face, toes, arms, head. The screaming seems to delight her to no end.

Discipline has become more regular to her than her meals. We have broken out the big guns. For Herbie we used the squirt bottle, which he hated. Olive enjoys a light misting of water or even better a direct stream of water. Time out in her crate, fine, someone bring the nachos and beer. Finally we found something. Something that she truly hates and will make her stop dead in her tracks and knock the shit off. A peach can of pennies. Yep, I'm not sure if it is peaches or the penny that she carries such distaste for, but whatever it is I am grateful. Now I just have to pick it up and she stops on a dime. I have been eating a boatload of peaches in order to have a can in every room. None of my Tupperware now have lids but that is a small price to pay for not having to wear long sleeves because it looks like I have lost a fight with sewing notions.

Olive has systematically disemboweled the dog toy box. First she just enjoyed ripping off their heads and dancing through the house with stuffing on her face. Then she started being a little more particular, honing her craft I like to think, now she rips off only the eyes. So now our toys are eyeless which is very disturbing and creepy.But now I just find stuffing, no toy, no eye, just stuffing EVERYWHERE. I know the toy in all of its pieces is somewhere but I will be damned if I can find it. She is learning. Learning how to clean up the scene of the crime.

Me time

I'm back. I took a few days off to have some Me time. It was very relaxing, both in body and soul. I miss having time to just chill and even with the two wildebeests trying to bring me down, it was nirvana.

The weather definitely helped my mood. Sun, warmth, sun, the Mariners taking two out of three over the Red Sox, sun, all put me in a much better frame of mind.

I have psoriasis, which is a skin disorder. I'm lucky I have a very mild case. This is something that is passed down through your parents, on the father's side. I'm adopted so I assume my father had it. The sun makes it go away, the ultraviolet rays are beneficial. You can also get medicine, though I don't need that. Stress, being overweight and just plain genetics all play a factor in this disorder. The genetics I'm fine with. Being overweight I have dealt with. It is the stress that I get hung up on.

I wish I could get a handle on that one. It is a slippery little fellow and just when I think I have a firm grasp, it gives a little wiggle and it's gone again. Eating better, exercising, surrounding myself with positive people, all help. But it is the Me time where I fall down on the job. I seem to come last, even in my own mind. To a certain extent that is what is suppose to happen but I think as you get older it needs to shift some. It needs to shift to just me. That is what I did this weekend. I feel so much more positive, relaxed, happy today. In control. And even more patient, which if you knew me would really be saying something.

This is something that I am going to try and add to my daily schedule. Taking some time, be it 30 minutes or just 5, I am going to find time for just Me. Maybe it will be sitting down and daydreaming, maybe I will take another Yoga class, maybe I will drink a glass of water on the back deck, maybe take the dogs for a longer walk and let them smell every single blade of grass without urging them to hurry up. The possibilities are endless and the rewards are substantial.

After all I'm worth it.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I'm alone!

Well, with the two rambunctious nut cases still here, I guess I am not really alone. The kid has flown off to Chicago for the weekend. He is attending the Speech and Debate Tournament at Northwestern. Very exciting for him. Very quiet for me. Win, Win.

Last night we needed to pack. We are very different packers, I couldn't care less what I bring, I just want the luggage closed and waiting by the front door. He wants to bring EVERYTHING he owns and wants it to fit into a carry on. It was war I tell ya, just a big old battle. One that he puts off until 9:00 pm, just to make sure we are both tired and wore out from our day. That way we are in a fine mood to deal with each other.

It starts so innocent. With smiles and kind words. Then it travels at warp speed into frowns and a little bit of sniping. Then it crashes into yelling and lines being drawn. If we were two guys this would be the time for the throw down. Bring it on would be uttered and West Side Story would be happening on the second floor of our home. But I'm a chick, so I go the silent treatment accompanied by the shake of the head and the look that says "You are so wrong! the wrongest you have ever been! the wrongest the world has ever seen!" He goes with the tried and true "You are the worst mother EVER! and back when you were my age, you traveled by wagon train and COULD bring everything."

I try and leave. He wants me back. He debates about why I don't buy quart size plastic bags and he has to use the sandwich size. It is now 10:30 pm and he wants me to run to the store and buy quart size plastic bags because his GIANT deodorant won't fit in the sandwich size. No, I won't go and the whole lovely scenario starts again.

Finally everything is located inside the suitcase, including the giant deodorant and it is indeed parked by the front door. We tap dance around each other for a while but it blows over fairly quickly.

This morning I drop him off at the airport and he hugs me goodbye. Stands with his Speech and Debate team laughing and joking, I start to go. A voice calls out "I love you, Mom!" I turn around and there he is waving and smiling at me. All is good.

Two steps forward, three steps backward

Being in my position, single, cheating ex, torrid affair, etc., etc., everyone has an opinion. On everything and anything. And they tell it to me. I am super grateful for the support and caring I have received during this time. Support I never knew was possible. I am beyond grateful to all of the friends and family that have propped me up for the last six months.

These are not the people I am referring to, but rather the people that have heard through the grapevine. Strangers or at best acquaintances that I see once or twice a month. They don't know me that well, more like a "hi, how are you? lovely day in the neighborhood" kind of thing.

Today I ran into one of those. I am in a happy place right now. One that has taken me a lot of hard work to get here and I will be damned if I am going to go back. And yet, one comment can totally undue the last six months and bring me right back to the beginning. I have no idea why this is. Is it because I secretly believe it could be so? Or am I not as strong as I feel? Maybe it is because it is a rainy day here and I am tired today.

This acquaintance asked if my marriage went bad because of the weight I had gained. I had a heart murmur, people. A medical condition. Once fixed, my energy level came back up and I was able to exercise without feeling like death was giving me a big squeeze hello. But lets say, I had no medical condition I was just big. Is that OK then? The ex should be allowed to cheat on me in that case. What if I let my hair go gray instead of coloring it? Is this a valid excuse? I had a C-section and therefore I have a scar, valid excuse?

It gets my hackles up. In my book, there is no valid excuse. If you want someone else, speak up, use your inside voice and announce you are done with the marriage. Remember at one time you liked the person you are with, don't they deserve some sort of respect? To be treated with dignity? I guess not, at least in my case. But then to say I somehow caused it? I deserved it?

This happened hours ago and I am still furious. Still shaking with anger. Because you know what, NO I didn't deserve it. I take some blame for the breakup of the marriage, I just lay the majority of the problems on the person who deserves them. The person who never said a word. The person who gave no consideration to the ones he betrayed. The person who acted like a spoiled child being denied something. He gained weight. He lost his hair. He lost his job, multiple times. The list goes on and on.

I didn't cheat. I didn't humiliate him. So, no I won't take the responsibility for this.

Today I just smiled, gathered up Olive from the yard, gave a jaunty wave, and went into my home. Laid down on the couch and cried.

I will. . .

It is getting closer and closer to the big moving day! A little more than a month away! Geesh! The time is flying by.

I am so ready to go. I'm taking the next year off. A gift to me if you will. I have always been responsible, dependable, predictable, a lean on me kind of gal. Not for the next year.

Nope! for the next year I am going to live by no schedule. I'm going to eat dinner for breakfast and sleep in the day. I'm throwing caution to the wind and see where it carries me. I'm going to craft all day and night if I want to. And maybe not even clean up after I am done. I may spend an ENTIRE day in pajamas. I may even buy some pajamas. I might not use a coaster under my glass and I may drink the milk right from the carton.

I see a life of choices. My choices! All mine!! I have never had this. First I had parents, then I was married at 22 and then I became a mom at 27. My whole life has belonged to someone else. I went where the ex had a job. I did school, field trips, lunches, kid things with the kid. Always someone else's wishes came first. I'm not complaining because I was well aware of the obligations when I made the decisions. I'm just not 22 or 27 anymore, being at the beck and call of someone else no longer has the appeal it once did.

I want to be a dandelion puff, floating where my thoughts and wants take me. All me. If I want to read an entire book in one day, I will. If I want to go to the beach and sit, I will. I will drink coffee at 8:30 pm knowing I will be up all night. I may run with scissors. I may dye my hair purple. I will play my music very loud. I will play my favorite song over and over until even the dogs can sing the words. I may drink a non-diet pop. I will take a driving trip to San Francisco. I will see Graceland. I will gamble in Las Vegas.

I will have fun.

I will be free.

Lucky, lucky me!

Random bits of nonsense

Today I am random.

I had a delightful Mother's Day with Cinnabons, gifts, lunch out, and the most fabulous kid in the world. Oh, and he got a hair cut because nothing says Happy Mother's Day like scissors. The kid really outdid himself in the gift department. He made his own card, I know, like Wow man. As a crafter I totally adore homemade things and hardly ever receive them. The kid for the last few years has almost always made me a card and they are quite spectacular. We headed out to lunch and joined the masses of mothers, mothers-to-be, and woman on their own looking dazed and confused. We laughed, joked and judged all the other patrons in their clothing selection because we are both shallow that way when we hang out together.

A lovely day all the way around except for when Olive peed on the carpet on my watch, again! I swear she saves all her urine during the time the kid watches her and then the flood gates open when she is back in my presence. She is so brilliant in some areas.

The dogs have decided, well Herbie decided if he didn't start to do something Olive would simply annoy him to death, to play together. ALL THE TIME. As in every minute of the day! I keep hoping for the time that Olive will fall over in a deep sleep and that time never arrives. The dog is like the energizer bunny, she just keeps on going and going. Herbie on the other hand doesn't even have the energy to bark at the front door anymore. He just waits for the burglar to come in and then points the way to Olive, with a look that says "Please take her, fast! I'd help you but I am unable to move even the slightest little bit."

Herbie has his secret weapon, he has the ability to leap onto furniture. Olive hasn't figured out this feat of nature and she truly thinks Herbie has a secret power. One that makes him king of the dog world and therefore must be overthrown. She spends her spare time trying to make this a reality, all to no avail. When he leaps onto the bed, her little head spins around and awe fills her eyes followed by her running to the toy chest, getting his favorite OF ALL HIS TOYS toy, running back to the bedroom and disemboweling it right in front of his eyes. This weekend alone I threw away two toy squeaker boxes and two dog toys missing their heads. It is lovely to finally have a girl dog, because you know they are so lady like and dainty. HA!

Hope you all had a most super of Mother's Day.

Book 'em Sunday - Greg Rucka

Today for Book 'em Sunday we are going to do Greg Rucka, the Atticus Kodiak series.
Patriot Acts and Walking Dead are the latest two in the Atticus Kodiak series. The other ones are Keeper, Finder, Smoker, Shooting at Midnight, and Critical Space.

These books are a excellent addition to the mystery field. They are very well written and the plots are tightly woven. Atticus is a bodyguard and as such runs into all sorts of unsavory characters. These are in the same line as the Robert Parker "Spenser" or the Lee Child "Reacher" books.

Atticus has a moral code and the skills to back it up. I really enjoy this series. The writing is fast paced and the characters are great. It has a lot of action which is what I look for in a mystery. The only problem I would say that I have with this series, is one I have with many mysteries, are the relationships. I don't really care for couples in mysteries but that is just me. Sometimes I just fast forward through those pages and then I am good to go.

I enjoy the mystery part, the shoot 'em up find the bad dudes and save the day stuff. Not really the "I love you, you love me, blah blah blah." But all the mysteries have that stuff in it, so I just read around it.

Greg Rucka has become quite a successful comic book writer and he has written some non Atticus Kodiak books. He also lives in Portland, one of the greatest cities EVER! It seems that quite a bit of the mystery genre has come from other countries lately. Sweden has put out some excellent mysteries as well as Japan and of course Great Britain. So it is great to see some strong mystery writers from the Northwest.
The earlier novels are in paperback and I just picked up Walking Dead in hardback, so I think that one will be a while until it is in soft cover. Which will give you ample time to read the rest of the series.