'Ewe The Best'

"I prefer silent vice to ostentatious virtue." Albert Einstein

I’ll never learn… September 16, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — tobeymom1120 @ 10:23 AM

I have a wonderful, precious Grand Puppy, Octavia.  I feel a special kindred spirit connection with this puppy as I was the one who happened across her at the Cleveland APL.  I had made the trek with a friend who wanted kittens.  The APL was having ‘Kitty Christmas In July’ so my friend wasn’t the only one who wanted kitties that day and I got damned tired of standing in the adoption line that day so I went to look at the puppies. (I’m a ‘dog person’  since I happen to share my home with a 120 lb. Chesapeake Bay Retriever)  When you walk into the puppy nursery at the APL all the little darlings start barking up a storm, just begging to be noticed.  All the kennels were full to point that they had been ‘doubled up’.  It is always so sad to walk through there, seeing all these dogs that 2-legged people were irresponsible with.  I believe that once you bring a 4-legged person  into your life the responsibility is like that for a 2-legged person.  Anyway, as I began to walk the row of kennels I saw that the second to the last one was indeed empty.  It was not until I actually got up to the kennel and looked in I saw this little German Short Hair girl layin
g back on the hammock they have in the kennels for the pups to sleep on.  With a bit of coaxing I was able to get her to come to the gate so I could see her.  She slowly walked over and pressed her head to the fencing so I could give her a bit of a rub on her snout.  She seemed like she was so mellow and just down right sweet.  She was obviously calm as she did not join in on the initial chorus of barking and I was surprised to see by her paperwork that she had been a resident of the APL for 6 weeks already (thankfully the Cleveland APL is a ‘no kill’ shelter), she was just 2 yrs. old
  and her name was ‘Octavia’.  After chatting with a volunteer I found out that the APL couldn’t understand why Octavia hadn’t been adopted after su
ch a long time with them and she had been surrendered by a family who had lost their own home to foreclosure.  She obviously had been raised in a loving situation because she was just as sweet as any pup could be.  I knew that I could not leave this puppy at the APL, my main job was to figure out how to get her into a

 

 loving home.  I did not have the money for the adoption at that point but I have it within 2 weeks.
After much ado (got to save something for a future post) my oldest daughter, Courtney became Tavi’s (her new nickname) new mommy.  The relationship between those two was made in heaven.  I think that it was karma that Tavi was in the APL for so long, she was waiting for Courtney to come and get her.  Tavi now lives the princess life she was born to live and she comes to visit h
er GMa at least twice a week while her mommy works.  When mommy has to go on an out-of-town trip where Tavi isn’t invited, Tavi comes to stay with her GMa.  Octavia does suffer from ‘separation anxiety’ so she has to be in her ‘Princess Castle’ (her kennel) or she has to be at GMa’s when mommy leaves.
Octavia and her Uncle Tobey love each other very much.  uncle Tobey knows the days during the week when Tavi is supposed t come visit (generally it’s every Tuesday and Thursday) and if she doesn’t show, for one reason or another, he is moping about not knowing what to do
with himself.
 Our days are always full of excitement when Tavi comes to visit as she is no longer a depressed wallflower, she is a full-blown ‘Princess’ puppy.  GMa refers to her as her GGuppy (Goat + Grandpuppy) Princess.  This girl is full of herself.  I keep telling her mommy that we could be very rich if we could just get someone to leave a Big Mac in the vault at Ft. Knox.  This girl will do anything to get at food related trash.  Tavi walks into GMa’s house and quickly rounds up all of Uncle Tobey’s toys (with the exception of ‘Baby”), puts them on Uncle Tobey’s bed and then lies on all the others as she chews on the toy of choice.  Uncle Tobey bows before her and accepts this as the norm.

 

Tavi’s mommy has gone to New York for numerous business meetings so Octavia has come to stay with her GMa and her Uncle Tobey for a few days.  All was going so well.  On the first evening, dinner was eaten, dishes were washed, puppies were walked and it was time for my shower.  When washing the dishes I made sure that all the possible temptations were off the counter, all the puppy food is ensconced safely behind thick plastic, I have given up using my trash can and my recycling cans so there couldn’t possibly be any problem once I put up the gate before I take my shower.  With all my i’s dotted and my t’s crossed I took them out for a last pee and one final trip to the dumpster for the day(the lack of a trashcan means I just make numerous trip to the dumpster with trash-filled grocery bags) .  We came in from a nice walk and I headed for the shower.  While taking a pre-shower pee Tobey started barking and yelling at him to get Baby (barking with Baby in his mouth muffles the volume) wasn’t cutting it so I turned on the shower, dog still barking, I yell more, then I flush the toilet, dog still barking, I yell more, I run out into the hallway, buck naked to give a face-to-face yell about the barking just as Tavi came out of the kitchen with a jar of dry roasted peanuts in her mouth! Caught red-handed!!  She dropped the jar at Tobey’s feet as she slunk under the table with a most shameful face, he stopped barking at that point and he couldn’t move away from that offensive jar fast enough, not one single puppy wanted to touch the evidence.  All of the sudden I realize that the shower sounds funky, like it’s showering out of the tub onto the bathroom floor, mind you I am in my family room, naked with my blinds open AND it’s NOT raining this time (in a previous fiasco I was buck naked in my family room with the blinds open BUT it was pouring rain so no one got the free show of a fat old lady in her all-together!) but, back to my bathroom.  I quick put up the gate (I forgot in the joy of a nice walk and the opportunity for a shower to put the GD gate up across the kitchen!) and run into the bathroom to see why the shower is sounding so weird when I slip and narrowly miss a huge fall on the water that is flowing out of my toilet.  The shower was just fine and quite honestly, it was the only damn thing that was fine at this point.  Tavi was feeling badly, not about what she had done, but it was all about getting caught as she couldn’t be ‘the good puppy’ and blame the infraction of GMa rules on Uncle Tobey.  Uncle Tobey was feeling badly because Tavi was feeling badly and I was none to happy with the entire fiasco.  Now I had plenty of laundry to take care of the next morning, oh, well, I didn’t really have any plans for Thursday anyway!
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September 11, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — tobeymom1120 @ 12:10 PM

As I watch the 9/11 Memorial on television I am struck with a bewildered feeling as I see ‘Sweet Baby James’ Taylor and Paul Simon in suits and ties.  Although the voices sound familiar and the words should still have the same meaning, I guess times have changed – even though the wars still rage and the ‘people’ still suffer.  Everyone has joined the ‘establishment’ but me.   No wonder I feel so out of step in the world!

 

Kids or dogs, what’s the difference? September 6, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — tobeymom1120 @ 1:42 PM

Every morning it’s the same thing – I have to BEG my dog to eat his ‘breakfast’.  It isn’t until I use his complete name, ‘Tobey God Damn It’ and refer to the stuff in his dog bowl not as his ‘breakfast’ but as his ‘f*#%ing breakfast’ that he will finally eat it.  It’s just like having my kids back living at home.  Matthew Richard clean your room!  Hillary Jordan hang up your towel! Courtney Dru stop fighting with your brother! Tobey God Damn It get back here, NOW!…and so on and so forth down the line with Ashley Marie, Katie Elyse (the only nickname in the bunch) and last but, certainly not least, Andrew Richard.  Being a ‘Mom’ means that you are the resident nag, bitch, nudge, bitch, bitch, etc.  Rarely did something get done without me having to don my ‘bitch costume’, you’d have thought that it was Halloween every day at my house.  As they grew up and left home,  my  costume stayed in the closet more and more but then, I got a puppy.  I didn’t get any old ordinary puppy, I decided I wanted a Chesapeake Bay Retriever.  Chessies are known for their intelligence, their loyalty, playfulness and their ‘wilfulness’ which translates to a constant power struggle from the minute the cutest, bounciest little fuzzball grabs your heart – it’s quite like giving birth.  Whenever people ask me about my recommendations for getting a Chessie, I always tell them that these pups really need a ‘stay-at-home mom’.  Chessies will not tolerate being kenneled all day long as they do not view themselves as ‘dogs’.  Whenever I mention the word ‘dog’ in conversation with other humans, Tobey looks around and gets excited, a dog?, when did we get a dog?.  This 7th kid of mine has an incredible vocabulary.  He completely understands verbal direction as well as hand signals and just like the youngest of kids, he can ‘spell’.  I took to spelling the word T-R-E-A-T as saying the word was cause for extreme excitement and extreme excitement on a 120 lb. dog can cause a lot of excitement for two-legged beings so, for now, it is just the ‘T’ word.  He is a complete and utter ‘sasser’ who hates when I pour water on one of his ‘good ideas’.  I often find myself saying things to him like, “If Maple and Lola jump off a roof, would you?”, “One more word out of your mouth and your going to your crate, Mister!”, “No treats until you eat all your breakfast!” and so on and so forth.  It’s the same things that I have been saying since I was 22 and the first two-legged kid was born and I wouldn’t trade a second of it for anything in the world.

 

Baa! Baa! Bla…-well, it was really more like a ‘dirty white’ sheep. August 31, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — tobeymom1120 @ 1:52 PM

For years and years I had the desire to spin my own yarn.  The yen began with a Sesame Street vignette (more years and years ago than I can count or care to share with anyone.)  The film short began with a father shearing a sheep while his two anxious and excited young daughters looked on.  When he finished, the two little girls dragged a burlap sack of fleece, huffing and puffing, to the house where their mother was waiting.  The little girls and their mother were soon sitting in front of a lovely river rock fireplace with a cozy, warm fire aglow.  The mother was spinning on her wheel and the little ones were hand carding the fleece at her feet.  Soon the yarn was all spun and dyed a gorgeous deep, rich red (obviously mom was a whiz on that wheel and a master wool dyer, too), the little ones were reading and playing by the fireplace while mom knit.  (Come to think of it, these two little ones didn’t seem to squabble or complain, they actually seemed to ‘like’ one another, nor did they ever get dirty.  No wonder mom was such a perfect mom, her kids were FAKE!!)  In an amazingly short time (this is probably the ‘ma’ who knits all those damn sweaters in the store, too*) we got to see the two fantasy little girls running and playing in the fall leaves wearing their new red, bumpy cardigans.  At the time, I fantasized that I could be just like that mother.  Sure, my kids did complain, squabble, they hated each other and they could get dirty sitting in a church pew but, those 2 little darlings of mine would someday be running about in red, bumpy cardigans and in just a few, a very few short years the fantasy expanded to the 4 (twins), 5 and 6 of them.  Over years of not spinning, I began to seriously doubt that any red, bumpy cardigans would be in my future nor would they be appreciated by my now adult children so the fantasy was transferred to my 3 grandchildren, yet there was still no spinning happening on my part (I’m slow to let go of fantasies).  Then, just last Christmas, my darling, oldest daughter gave me a beautiful handmade drop spindle and some roving.  It took a while for me to get the hang of it but, I am making yarn!  Me, making yarn, it’s just so awesome and now the ‘spinning wheel’ bug has bitten me.  Who knows, there may be a family photo in my future, with 9+ (I love the prospect of more grandchildren) of my dearest loves smiling into the camera, happy in their red, bumpy cardigan sweaters.  I know, too, that once the photo is taken they won’t be able to get those red, bumpy cardigans shed quickly enough.  They wouldn’t want anyone, outside the siblings, to see them and their poor children in such ridiculous garb !  I am and always will be, a realist! After all, I survived 6 kids!

*See my previous post ‘Out of the mouths of babes’

 

Out of the mouths of babes! August 30, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — tobeymom1120 @ 8:45 PM

Years ago, like, many, many years ago when we lived in Cheyenne, WY, my oldest son (child #2) went with his best buddy to Denver to shop for 1st grade school clothes. Going to Denver to shop back then was a necessity and with a car full of kids, it could be a long, grueling trip.  Anyway, he goes with his little friend and little friend’s mom and I have one less child for a whole day.

They returned home from a fun day in the big city as I was preparing dinner (My personal favorite time of day!)  with an assortment of starving children hanging from my body or crying on the floor because they couldn’t hang on me while the rest of them were asking, every 10 seconds, “when’s it gonna be done?”, “I don’t like peas!”, “why do you take so long to cook?”, “do we have to have THAT again?”  Everyday it was the same thing and everyday the reply was the same, “never if you keep bugging me”, “too bad”, “because you keep bugging me” and “when you start buying the groceries, you can cook something different.”  (Having 6 children in 9 yrs., the last 4 of the darling angels in 3 1/2 yrs. was a recipe for ‘fun’!)

In the middle of this ‘good time’ the darling who spent the day away from the pack returned home with something URGENT to tell me.  It was one of those times when I was sure he had better run to the potty or he was going to pop and dirty dishes wouldn’t be the only thing I would be washing up but, as it turns out, it wasn’t his bladder that was full but his ‘wonderer’.  “Ma, ma, ma! It’s ‘portant! No, ma! ma!” So, in the middle of chaos, I inhaled deeply and found a ‘mom smile’ from somewhere inside – ‘What?”  “Did you know you can buy sweaters already made in the store?”  It was one of those times that I knew ‘why’ I loved kids so much.   In that awe filled moment the only reply I could come up with was, “NO!”  He went on to tell me about all the sweaters, for kids and moms & dads, too!  Just as I was about to return to the project I had at hand, he gets a quizzical look and says, “Who’s ma do you think makes them?”  The only answer I could muster, “I don’t know, dolly, I don’t know.”

 

 

I would rather give birth than go to the dentist… August 29, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — tobeymom1120 @ 2:19 PM

Which is why I have six kids!  Unfortunately, about 3 years ago we had a ‘fire sale’ on all my girl parts so now I have no choice.  The dentist it is!  Today. This afternoon.  The 29th of August.  UGH!  I will be taking my knitting along so that I can wait patiently in the ‘waiting room’.  I will be taking my knitting along so I can sit contentedly while my x-rays and other patients are processed.  I will be taking my knitting along because I have nice, pointy needles that may come in handy to fend off needles and drills if the dentist gets too deep in his work!

I actually did belt a dentist once.  Dr. Kowalski in St. Petersburg, FL.  It was back in the day when the metal hypodermic needles were used.  The needles that were at least a foot long and with it the dentist could plunge deep into your brain, if necessary.  One afternoon, when I was too cool to carry knitting with me, Dr. Kowalski got a lot frisky with the needle.  I was sitting on my hands, a technique that I use to this day and Dr. Kowalski was injecting and he was injecting and he was injecting.  On or about the 50th plunge with my foot-long nemesis – I lost it, or rather my butt lost it’s fight with my hands.  Up they came and with superhero strength they belted a unknowing Dr. Kowalski in the gut.  The needle went flying and so did Dr. Kowalski.  He completely lost it and began yelling at me in a tone I was quite used to.  (Adults have often thought me deaf and still seem to feel the need to vocalize at an extreme volume when pointing out the errors of my ways.)  Quite honestly, I was amazed at how easily that needle bent to a 45 degree angle.  In all the brouhaha of the lecture and the prepping of a new implement of torture, the previous 49 injections began to work.  Dr. Kowalski must have thought that his loud, angry lecture did the trick when really it was the Novocaine.