It's a bird, it's a plane, it's, uh...

I did some major multi-tasking today.

Buddy's been relegated to our bedroom at night, so Boo can be in Flutterbug's room. Buddy's okay until around 3am, when he starts roaming in and out, scratching, licking, jiggling the bed...

I've been a little cranky. I like my sleep.

I go to the library about once a year lately. I feel like I've matured over the years, and become all responsible and stuff, but it never fails: I forget about the books until they're way overdue. So, good thing I had only two books checked out this time. The fewer the books, the slower the fines rack up, you know. (And I know you know.)

I've gotten really slack about exercising for about a week. And I'm eating like a stevedore.

Wednesdays are my pickup day for the farm co-op. I bring back the flattened plastic-y box when I pick up the next.

So I got this bright idea.

If I planned it right, I could take care of the un-tired dog, the overdue library books, the exercising AND the co-op pickup all at the same time. Yes, I am Melanie the Magnificent Multi-tasking Girl.

Popped a leash on the dog, slipped the library books into a backpack, stuck the co-op box under my arm and headed off toward town.

Three minutes into the walk, Buddy stopped to poop. No problem. I tied the poopy-bag onto the leash and kept walking. Arm started chafing from the box. No problem. I switched arms (38 times).

I plunked the library books into the drop box and Buddy and I took a water break on a park bench. Then we headed up the street to Angry Adam's Wine and Cheese Spot (not a likely place for me to enter, generally) and through the window I saw a group of people in the middle of the tiny place, in the middle of a wine and cheese tasting. I held up the box, and held up the dog, and the manager waved me in (phew). I hoisted Buddy onto my shoulder and waltzed past the wine and cheese-tasting group. Stuck the full box under my other arm, turned back into the crowd and nearly toppled Buddy right onto the table full of, yes, wine and cheese. Several gasps and chuckles later, we made it to the door and headed home with slightly red faces and lots of salad greens, eggs, radishes and onions.

What shall Melanie the Magnificent Multi-tasking Girl do tomorrow? Stay tuned.

Do They Make Doggy Bonbons?

We had temperatures in the 80's today.

And this is what Buddy kept doing on our walk:

I also had to carry him halfway home. And that was after dousing him with a bottle of water and stopping to let him drink water, twice.

Mike says I need to look for a little wagon for him. Something with a canopy to shade him from the sun. And maybe a fridge.

On the River

What Buddy and I saw on our walk today:


We walked to the river, ate a bite or two of tuna fish, sipped some water - in Buddy's case, lapped and slobbered - and read my Madeleine L'Engle book (well, I did. Buddy's into James Patterson). Then we walked home. Weeeell... I did have to carry Buddy for a little while. He's not in the awesome shape that I'm in. I have to wonder what people think when they see me loping down the street carrying a panting ball of white fur and bug eyes.

There's ways and there's ways to walk a dog.

I Love to Laugh

Meet James Thurber, humor writer extraordinaire.

My first introduction to Thurber was when I was a child, with "The Thirteen Clocks."

"Once upon a time, in a gloomy castle on a lonely hill, where there were thirteen clocks that wouldn't go, there lived a cold, aggressive Duke, and his neice, the Princess Saralinda. She was warm in every wind and weather, but he was always cold. His hands were as cold as his smile, and almost as cold as his heart. He wore gloves when he was asleep, and he wore gloves when he was awake, which made it difficult for him to pick up pins or coins or the kernels of nuts, or to tear the wings from nightingales."

The words and phrases in that book enthralled me.

"The brambles and the thorns grew thick and thicker in a ticking thicket of bickering crickets."

"Farther along and stronger, bonged the gongs of a throng of frogs, all green and vivid on their lily pads."

This is the quintessential (word of the week) read-aloud book.

When I was in college, I laughed 'til I cried over his short story "The Night the Bed Fell." Laughing 'til you cry is frowned upon in the Bob Jones University library, so I was in pretty severe pain from
laughing 'til I cried on the inside.

"We had visiting us at this time a nervous first cousin of mine named Briggs Beall, who believed that he was likely to cease breathing when he was asleep. It was his feeling that if he were not awakened every hour during the night, he might die of suffocation....

He slept in my room and I told him that I was such a light sleeper that if anybody quit breathing in the same room with me, I would wake instantly. He tested me the first night—which I had suspected he would—by holding his breath after my regular breathing had convinced him I was asleep. I was not asleep, however, and called to him. This seemed to allay his fears a little, but he took the precaution of putting a glass of spirits of camphor on a little table at the head of his bed. In case I didn't arouse him until he was almost gone, he said, he would sniff the camphor, a powerful reviver....

Always a deep sleeper, slow to arouse (I had lied to Briggs), I was at first unconscious of what had happened when the iron cot rolled me onto the floor and toppled over on me....

Briggs, awakening in the midst of loud shouts of fear and apprehension, came to the quick conclusion that he was suffocating and that we were all trying to "bring him out." With a low moan, he grasped the glass of camphor at the head of his bed and instead of sniffing it poured it over himself. The room reeked of camphor. "Ugf, ahfg!" choked Briggs, like a drowning man, for he had almost succeeded in stopping his breath under the deluge of pungent spirits...."

Today, as I was sorting books at the Victory Home warehouse, I came upon an anthology of humor writing and low-in-the-hole (a phrase that Flutterbug coined at age 4) there was another story: "The Night the Ghost Got In."

I was compelled to read it aloud on the way home, while Flutterbug drove.

I laughed 'til I cried.

"The ghost that got into our house on the night of November 17, 1915, raised such a hullubaloo of misunderstandings that I am sorry I didn't just let it keep on walking, and go to bed. Its advent caused my mother to throw a shoe through a window of the house next door and ended up with my grandfather shooting a patrolman...."

And later...

"One of the policemen found an old zither that Roy had won in a pool tournament. 'Looky here, Joe,' he said, strumming it with a big paw. The cop named Joe took it and turned it over. 'What is it?" he asked me. 'It's an old zither our guinea pig used to sleep on,' I said. It was true that a pet guinea pig we once had would never sleep anywhere except on the zither, but I should never have said so. Joe and the other cop looked at me a long time...."

Now that I reread these out-of-context exerpts, I think your best bet is to read the stories yourself. And if you don't find them funny, well, phooey on you!

~~~~~

On the home front, Buddy's been snacking way too much.

But I was so impressed that he, evidently knowing that chocolate isn't good for him, ate a cookie (that he stole), avoiding the chocolate chips! I found them in a pile on the floor. Maybe he is as bright as Gromit.

Facebook Fun

Buddy's hooked on Facebook (he learned to read upside down in community college). He loves connecting with old friends and young relatives and people he nearly forgot he knew.

He found Snoopy on here (by searching for alumni of the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm), and Marmaduke, and Benji.

Buddy completed the popular "25 Random Things About Me":

1. My favorite treat is cat poop.

2. I secretly enjoy watching AFV.

3. That cat will NEVER win.

4. My favorite words: Wanna go for a ride? and anything that sounds remotely like that.

5. If I whine enough, I'll get my way. Shhhh, don't tell.

6. I love the smell of bad breath.

7. My favorite pet food: Purina Cat Chow for Sensitive Systems.

8. That cat will NEVER win.

9. I considerately poop in the ivy, rather than on the grass.

10. I feel an eery connection to Buddy Ebsen and Buddy Holly.

11. I prefer the spare room rug over the ivy on rainy days.

12. Vegetable lasagna gives me gas.

13. My cell phone ring is "Dog Day Afternoon."

14. It used to be "Achy Breaky Heart."

15. The men in my neighborhood run screaming like girls when I get loose. Very entertaining, more fun than AFV.

16. That cat will NEVER win.

17. My throwing up record is 15 piles in 8 hours.

18. Some people think I have bug eyes, but they're just deep set.

19. My toenails can tap out "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" on a good hardwood floor.

20. I don't chew slippers. I prefer used q-tips.

21. This nose was bred for beauty. I smell nothing.

22. I'm a Mannheim Steamroller fan.

23. Pure torture: make me go live with Jon & Kate Plus 8.

24. Little kids are prey annoying.

25. That cat will N.E.V.E.R. win.

Buddy Study (No. 2)

Buddy looked so cute the other day as he sat in the doorway of my bedroom, head cocked to one side, watching with interest as I put on my earrings.

As I walked toward him, though, I spotted something on his face. Took a closer look. Ughhhhh. His entire mouth was outlined in cat litter.

You'll be happy to know I didn't take a picture.

Some people look good from a distance, too. They appear to be doing well, to be living right, to be moving forward.

They have a steak dinner in one hand (beautiful family, caring friends, good job) complete with baked potato, Alaskan king crab legs and buttered roll,

and a used, stinky, cat litter box in the other.

And they look at the steak dinner,

and they look at the litter box,

and they dump the steak dinner in the garbage and
go for the cat poop.

I see it all the time, working for Victory Home.

And, if I am to be truthful, I do it too.

God says, “I have a beautiful plan for you. All you need to do is abandon the litter box and obey me.”

But sometimes the litter box looks good!

C.S. Lewis said it beautifully: “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with sex and drink and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

Why spend money on what is not bread,

and your labor on what does not satisfy?

Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,

and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
--Isaiah 55:2

Isn’t it time we chucked the litter box and ran to the arms of the One who is JOY unparalleled?

Flushed With Excitement

Yesterday we heard the sweet call of our beds, and our kitty, and our new bathroom (yay!) and instead of meandering home we flew home in record time.

Another big reason was the thought of spending another night in a hotel room with Buddy. I hated to have to kill him.

How exciting to come home to a new bathroom, after waiting such a long time - for six years I've been bouncing on the edge of the bed in the mornings, waiting for my turn in our only bathroom.

This is what we started with (ages ago) - an under-stairs closet:

When we left town last week, it looked like this:

And (drumroll, please) here is the result, thanks to our wonderful Victory Home crew:

I'm tinkled pink!

(Oops, I gave Little Bubba the hiccups with that one.)

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Hallelujah! Buddy slept all night and so did we. Unfortunately for us, he also slept all day.

My mom's been busy doing arty things this week. Here's the adorable winter tree that she just finished. The picture doesn't do it justice - the felt is glittery and there are little glassy beads sewn all over it. I love it!

We're heading out of South Carolina tomorrow. We plan to meander back to Virginia, following the route of the least rain. I'm ready to see the sun!

Well, I guess it's time to wake Buddy up and go to bed. Time to switch off the phony-baloney-plastic-banana who's on TV yapping socialism from his Greek temple. Time to talk with my heavenly Father, who, thankfully, holds this world, and our lives, firmly in His hands. Without that knowledge, I'd never get any sleep.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Greenville still smells good, but we're getting soggy.


In between rain showers we visited the cousins. Younger Brother found a "roly-poly" bug and held it in his little hand until it wriggled a little too much and he let out a blood-curdling scream, like only a 3-year-old can. A beautiful 3-year-old belly laugh followed. The sounds of summer!

We didn't want Buddy to be left out of the fun; not so sure he agreed.

BUT, we did our best to wear him out. If it doesn't work, I think I'll go to the nearest animal doctor's office, bottle some of the smell, and threaten Buddy with it. Now there's a money-making idea to run with. That may be more lucrative than the flesh-colored duct tape face-lift idea.

Cupcake Teeth

I don't know what it is about Greenville. It smells good. The air feels different. We get friendly service at fast food restaurants. Could it be some kind of Bob Jones aura? Or is it the proximity to the beautiful Blue Ridge mountains? Or maybe it's simply the pleasure of visiting with my mommy!

I've been referring to my husband as "Hubby" on the blog from the beginning, and it's time to get real! I'm just gonna call him Joe - kidding - Mike. It feels so much more naturelle!

So here we go:

MIKE was on a radio program with his good friend Winn Freeman (http://wisdominlivinglife.org/). They discussed the fact that the cure for addiction is transformation. That the power of God through salvation changes peoples' lives and sets them free from their slavery to sin.

I'd like to see Mike get on the radio in Virginia. Nearly everyone is affected by addiction in some way or another, and radio is a good way to communicate the truth about addiction, the truth about recovery, and most importantly, the truth about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

We had a little party at Sissy's beautiful home last night.

We had yummy quesadillas - do you know about quesadilla makers? They're the coolest thing since the George Foreman grill. No flipping needed, which is where I usually run into trouble, flinging cheese and meat and tortillas all over the stove. I need to get my hands on one of those things.

We also enjoyed black raspberry pie and cupcakes.

The kiddos enjoyed them almost as much as the grownups did.

Both kiddos looked a lot like mommy last night:




Little Bro brought over a few samples of the kazillion children's books he got from the annual library sale. I told him that he should write his own books - he's got plenty of inspiration with his two kiddos, not to mention his delightful sisters, who gave him lots of fond memories of wedgies and noogies.

Again, we had a horrible night's sleep, thanks to Buddy, who sleeps all day and fusses and scratches all night. It appears that he picked up some fleas in Florida - so much for $20 a month prescription flea medicine. I was about to drop-kick him out the window at about 3am. Fortunately, I was too disoriented from lack of sleep to find the window.

Note to self: tomorrow, buy flea shampoo, flea powder, flea spray, flea collar, earplugs, small dog-sized straitjacket and muzzle.

Surprise!

How did we ever survive without on-demand internet access?

I had big plans to post a daily blog entry about our trip to Florida to surprise my mom-in-law for her birthday, and the hotel room HAD NO INTERNET SERVICE.

It was working in the lobby, but I tried that, and found that it came with a concierge standing four feet away and shouting at the olympic greco-roman wrestlers on the TV.

So here I am four days later, trying to figure out how to catch up on documenting our adventure, which started with the cat pewking (and pewping) in her carrier on the way to her babysitter's (no, not into a sombrero; that was an ill-placed hint that we were passing South of the Border - the plan was to add more hints about the upcoming story until we arrived with balloons and cake at mom-in-law's!).

So I'm skipping the hints and going right to the surprise:

Hubbie called his mom just before we rang the doorbell. He said, "Did you get my gift?"

"No," she replied.

"Well, it was supposed to be delivered by 10am."
We rang the bell.

"Oh, the doorbell just rang; maybe that's it," she said. Yup, that's it!

We brought ingredients for a cookout - Hubbie shaped the burgers and started up the grill. Buddy gobbled a chunk of raw meat that fell to the floor, and naturally threw it up a little while later (why does puke play such a large part in our lives???).

Then Hubbie manned the grill and Little Bubba swam.

Buddy was scared to death, trembling and crying when we left the edges of the pool - so he contented himself with resting his front paws on whatever human he could reach, with his hind paws on the edge of the pool.

It's now a twelve-hour drive, a horrible night's sleep (thank you, Buddy) and several Dunkin Donuts later, and we're on to a new leg of our traveling adventure - Greenville, South Carolina.

And thankfully, we have internet in this hotel! So, more tomorrow, including a radio star, cupcakes and kiddos.

Chicken Salad Surprise

We took a little time off yesterday. Thought we'd take Buddy across the river with us and find an outdoor cafe for lunch. FORGOT how fearful he is of the ferry - mainly the ramps and steps.

Big Little baby.


We did find a nice place to eat. Buddy was still a little nerved up so I slipped him bites of chicken salad and Little Bubba slipped him bites of hamburger, and I slipped him more bites of chicken salad, and last night I stepped in a big pile of chicken-salad-hamburger-puke on the kitchen floor.

I remember when Buddy was just a little thing and he ate everything that would fit in his mouth. He puked up some interesting things, including large quantities of beads and a big silver dolphin pendant.

Yesterday when we walked past the sewer manholes, Buddy shrank away every time, giving them a wide berth. How can a dog who dines at the Litter Box Cafe be repulsed by a simple sewer vapor?

Isn't God awesome to give us the earthy distraction of pets, to humor us when we need humor, and to love us when we need love?

And for a mug like Buddy's, I will happily step in puke any day. Believe me, it's not much worse than cornstarch toe gravy or spray adhesive!

(At least I didn't take a picture.)

Buddy Loses Weight

Shave . and . a . haircut...

...5 cents 4,000 cents!

Busy as a Bee

Update on the last several weeks (we've been b-b-b-busy!):

Kiki got the collar off and hid it well this time. Walked around for two days with a smug look on her face.

Between the 90 degree temps and the crowds and loud booms and crackles, it took Buddy a while to recover from Saturday night's adventure to the fireworks at the riverfront. His tongue had a big workout after the walk there.

We had to carry him all the way home afterwards, where he drank a gallon of water and pestered Little Bubba all night to be let out.

Our friend Melissa's son offered to carry all five chairs for the 1/2 mile walk.

He adjusted his method now and then.

More adjustment!

When we arrived back home, Melissa headed straight for the air conditioner!

I had a great couple of days with my Aunt Laurie and Uncle Bob who stopped in on their way north. They are fun people - always have been! We yakked and laughed and yakked some more.

Turns out Aunt Laurie and I share more than a few genes:






With the heat wave we've been having (in the 100's), we're having quite a time with power outages and weak power - can't even use the toaster without the circuit flipping. At one point, I went outside, flipped the circuit back on, and couldn't make it back in the house without hearing flip back off again - three times.



On a brighter note, my container garden is flourishing and I can't keep up with it! I've given up trying to eat my way through the lettuce.


Got lots of chives and other herbs, although I let the dill go to seed. Don't use it so much - I mostly like to smell it!


Stupid slugs keep eating the strawberries on the ground, and birds like the ones in the hanging baskets. But the few I get are delish!

Soon we'll be overrun with tomatoes. Can't wait. Perfect tomato sandwich: white bread, Duke's mayo, salt and thick-sliced garden tomato!

Summer squash is coming along.


Onions, too. The flower is so pretty that I let them go to seed. I threaded the one on the right, but the one on the left wove its way through the lattice itself!

"Wanna go for a ride?"

Stinky Dogs, Vinegar and Pocahontas

Oh, the joys of dog ownership! After catching an unpleasant whiff every now and then this evening, Little Bubba noticed a big doggy poop attached to Buddy’s hind end. After chasing him into the kitchen, she tried to detach it with a paper towel, but Buddy has a substantial amount of fur on that little rear, so it only made a bigger mess and a smelly one at that!

So he was plopped into the tub, only to leap out and run for the stairs after about 30 seconds of being pummeled by the pulse setting of the hand-held shower head. I chased him down the stairs – he flew into the living room – ran into the family room – collapsed onto the rug – and rolled onto his back. Holding him under his armpits, I ran back up the (18 - whew) steps and stuck him back in the tub.

After another 3 minutes of the hard pulsing spray, it was about as good as it was going to get so we let him loose. He ran down the stairs, through the house, and into the dark cover of night (this all happened at 10pm) and by the time we caught up, he was completely prostrate on the grass, little hind legs stretched out behind his furry rear, front paws extended forward, and little chin resting on the ground in between them.

When he saw us, he sat up just a bit, then keeled over onto his side and lay there without moving, as if to say “My life stinks right this minute.” Poor thing, wait ‘til we dress him up in that ballerina outfit.

~~~~~

We went to South Carolina last week for Hubby’s bi-monthly arthritis treatment. Got to eat lettuce the old-fashioned “Dad” way that I mentioned in a prior entry.

Layer fresh-picked lettuce in a small bowl, cut into strips with a butter knife, then cross-wise into cubes, drizzle with vinegar and sprinkle (liberally) with sugar.

Lots of sugar offsets the vinegar, in fact, the second time around I just skipped the vinegar. I’m thinking that I should try sugar on shrimp, sushi, and liver and I bet they’d be a lot more palatable.

~~~~~

Yesterday (our day off), we went to historic Jamestown, which is about 45 minutes from home. We wandered through the recreated Indian village, the settlers’ fort, and the huge gallery full of fascinating artifacts. We enjoyed exploring the replicas of the three ships that sailed across the Atlantic and arrived on my birthday, April 26!

Afterwards, we drove onto the James River ferry to head back home, and as the breeze blew through the open car windows and the seagulls squawked overhead, I was struck by the contrast between the things we had seen: arrowheads, furs to keep warm, primitive life and painful death; and the things I saw now: luxurious cars, air conditioning, GPS, someone playing a game on a Blackberry. Same river, same land, even a few of the same trees, and just 400 years between, but a world of difference.

Some things never change, though. Moses had to deal with false religion, idols and conjurers, and they existed millennia later among the Indians. Evil always rears its ugly head in every society. The Indians seemed so isolated from other cultures, and from outside influence, and yet they had temples, priests and conjurers, and smoked mind-altering drugs. And greed consumed so many of the settlers, who, at the expense of life-sustaining crops, grew tobacco in every available patch of earth, and paid for it dearly.

No one is exempt from needing a Savior, whether rich or poor, black or white, living in ancient Egypt, 1600’s Virginia, or post-modern America. We’re all so very much the same!

~~~~~

I am overwhelmed by the sneaky and beautiful thing that my lovely daughter did for my birthday! She is a precious treasure and I thank God for her every day. Little Bubba, you just wait 'til October!

(Little Bubba with Little Cousin)