tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-253999402024-03-13T10:04:17.707-05:00Living in a Material WorldKnit, quilt, sew, walk the most beautiful dog in the world and work, work, work at Leisure Arts...that's all I do!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1222125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-34194688728665458072012-03-02T11:34:00.000-06:002012-03-02T11:34:00.264-06:00Moving. On up. Into the mountains. For real.I actually called Benton "civilization" this week. I brought my laptop with me so that I could get online for a few glorious seconds to look for a job and it had been an eternity since I could do anything larger than the tiny, slow window on my iPhone. To be sitting here, in front of my laptop, in my new home using the real world wide web makes me nearly giddy with connectivity.<br />
<br />
Cell phone reception here is crap, usable, but not reliable, and I get voicemails on a serious time delay. And it's just right here, in this house. When I go to town (yes, I said it), cell reception is great. After a glorious visit to the phone company, I now have a landline for local calls AND DSL. Hallelujah! Praise Jesus and the phone company, prayers have been answered! I would say I'm not serious, but I totally am. I knew I would survive after the DirecTV guy came, 6 hours late but who really cares? I have eleventy billion channels, DVR, and now an internet connection.<br />
<br />
I think I'll survive, even here in the wilds.<br />
<br />
Where am I?<br />
<br />
Come on over to the new blog for more...it's in the building stages still but I'll be posting there from now on.<br />
Goodbye, Living in a Material World. Hello, <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.read-write-rewrite-repeat.com/">www.read-write-rewrite-repeat.com</a></span></b>. COME SEE ME!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-59313414058210854972012-03-01T16:42:00.000-06:002012-03-01T16:42:16.693-06:00I have internets!!I have internet again! I can surf the web again! I'm alive again!<br />
<br />
I'll tell you why I've been all disconnected and approaching the depths of despair over my lack of web surfing time tomorrow. I have only this to say:<br />
<br />
God bless AT&T, iPhone, and even spotty 3G access. It has been my despair and my salvation. Yes, I exaggerate and it's just perfectly wonderfully absolutely fine because I HAVE INTERNET AGAIN!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-39609897365309123012012-02-15T08:51:00.000-06:002012-02-15T08:51:42.040-06:00Jack's Valentine's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-mDu0t2NCztraeC2HgXOXv300BnMx0-mV0XTl9qOXFzhnm450U5zQb520_n_pBBgOKk5WIX2QZVLn6-WSyosHH9e8Afc8gIB7M9CwUNUSrG63Gw5EFa9twrJUK6n47L0xyIDFw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-mDu0t2NCztraeC2HgXOXv300BnMx0-mV0XTl9qOXFzhnm450U5zQb520_n_pBBgOKk5WIX2QZVLn6-WSyosHH9e8Afc8gIB7M9CwUNUSrG63Gw5EFa9twrJUK6n47L0xyIDFw/s400/photo.JPG" width="299" /></a></div><br />
Jack had another class last night. He should be at the point by now (or in about 3 weeks) that he should be able to move up to the first Rally class. I have my doubts. He has had two pretty good weeks in a row, however. Last night he had to sit and stay out in the middle of the ring all by his teeny, tiny self while a row of dogs (and owners) watched him. I walked away in front of him, about 5 feet, and kept that distance while I made a circle around him. And he stayed there. Even when I was behind him, he didn't move. I would have bet money he couldn't do it. I would have lost money.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, I would have won money on the bet on what would happen to the cute Valentines dog toys that the trainer gave out last night. Jack's said "Too Sweet." And it still does, but it's considerably flatter and a great deal less squeaky than it started out when I gave it to him in the backseat on the way home last night.He enjoyed it just as I enjoy every piece of chocolate handed to me on the same day. For your video enjoyment (turn down the sound, it comes complete with a Glee song soundtrack):<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-4I91EmHGJ0" width="420"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-54270318070262433132012-02-13T16:29:00.000-06:002012-02-13T16:29:02.385-06:00A Good MondaySo, what did you do today? <div><br />
<div>1. I did not have to get up and commute in the dark and snow and freezing rain. It didn't amount to much but I would never have believed that while I was out operating expensive heavy machinery or trying to work with one eye on a computer screen and the other on the window.</div><div>2. I had three far-away friends make suggestions on places to contact or send a resume, friends who know people who know people, you know? I appreciate that they're thinking of me and will shamelessly name drop at the first, second, and third opportunity.</div><div>3. And another, closer-to-home friend contacted me because she'd been asked by someone at one of the few other publishing opportunities in Little Rock for my information. It was out of the blue to her, but I think I can see the hand of another far-away and long-time friend at work.</div><div>4. I actually spent two hours in the service area of a car dealership and did not want to kill anyone by the time it was over. Saturday I was out for my Sonic Route 44 run when my car acted up, flashed me a message (because we talk like that) and then refused to turn off the check engine light. Last week, I would have been stuck worrying about which meetings I'd miss and how to make up the time. This week, I plopped down in the chair and watched supercute Ty and The Revolution show. Thanks to my fabulous brother and his negotiated extended warranty, I had no worries. The service guy said a lot of words. There was a bulletin regarding a random misfire, they had to reset my EM-something, and everything should be fine now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-9R4yeVd6x3TdRlbcPgPpzkzggae1N71KP5krr5avCSbNakr3F4AwedLsx3_nb7lVNVstwvIfGgSNDGtBIaaE6cPizLtDPwXzpSUwaeJrjSDorZmrwx9RC6b6KHQmYrD8V0bTw/s1600/Luke_Spencer.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-9R4yeVd6x3TdRlbcPgPpzkzggae1N71KP5krr5avCSbNakr3F4AwedLsx3_nb7lVNVstwvIfGgSNDGtBIaaE6cPizLtDPwXzpSUwaeJrjSDorZmrwx9RC6b6KHQmYrD8V0bTw/s1600/Luke_Spencer.png" /></a></div><div>5. I left just as General Hospital was starting up. This picture made me laugh. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't laugh because it's intended to be serious and that made me a bit uncomfortable. It just strikes me as wrong on so many levels.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I also discovered the answer to something we've often talked about over lunch. Why do people who don't have to eat from 12 to 1 (e.g., ladies who lunch) go out then and clutter up the restaurant? Or buy groceries at 5? </div><div><br />
</div><div>I think I understand. Not having 10 hours of the day devoted to somewhere else takes a big burden off. I couldn't hear the ticking clock as loudly today as I sat in the dealership as I normally do.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I need to get back to work ASAP because that feeling's pretty awesome.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-80022144777776339082012-02-09T09:48:00.001-06:002012-02-09T11:24:01.595-06:00To my friendsI've been thinking about what to post here because I feel like I should put something up. If you're reading this, we've probably been friends for a long time now. It's just hard to know what to say.<br />
<br />
As of yesterday, I changed my Facebook employment info to "Will Work for Money" (as opposed to food. One look makes it clear that food I have.) I don't work for Leisure Arts today. I will miss my friends, people that I've worked with and enjoyed for a long time, but I will only miss seeing them daily. We are still friends. We have too much in common not to be friends forever. When I think about the things I'll really miss about going in every day to Leisure Arts, the list looks like this: Jean, Mary, Lisa, Frances, Susan, Celia, Jane, Rhonda, Lora, and Sheila. If I list all the people I'll miss in Knit and Crochet, Prepress, the rest of the Art department, Tina, Accounting...this post will turn into a roll call because the place is filled with good people. The best part of working at Leisure Arts was working with talented professionals who are also genuinely nice, smart, funny, and fun to be around. That's a big loss.<br />
<br />
There's a fairly decent list of things I won't miss too. That eases the sting a bit!<br />
<br />
In my job, I enjoyed working with designers. That would be a long list, too, so I won't list all the names, but it was fun to work with such creative people (*waving to my friend Pat*).<br />
<br />
I was lucky enough to start at Leisure Arts 16 years ago and to work early on with people who encouraged me to do things I'd never done before. I grew up there and I'll always be thankful to Leisure Arts for giving me that.<br />
<br />
So, now what? This is a very good question. I'm going to keep the blog up, but make some changes. The whole Material World thing was clever for the quilting connection, but it exposes my early Madonna fascination and some things you'd just rather keep quiet, you know? When I make the change, I'll put a post up here. Please follow me. I'll still post one zillion Jack pictures. I may actually craft more now. (If I truly understood how to use "busman's holiday" I'd throw it in creatively there, but I don't. So I won't.) Thank you for reading my blog. I can't make any promises about where we're going, but I think it's going to be good.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-66693128233278205262012-02-07T07:57:00.000-06:002012-02-07T07:57:29.984-06:00Please save me from Food NetworkI go through television phases. For a while, I was all TLC all the time. And then there's HGTV. My most recent obsession is Food Network. I watch Pioneer Woman's show but don't really feel an obsession. Rachel vs. Guy was kinda fun with all the celebrities, but it was pretty clear all along that Lou Diamond Phillips was just too cool and too skilled to lose.<br />
<br />
What gets me? 1. Cupcake Wars. 2. Challenge. I have no idea why. Neither results in edible food. Cupcake Wars is about the race against the clock and the sometimes-crazy elements they have to use to produce something that might be edible somewhere. Challenge is the one that gets me hooked. Cakes that are four feet tall and have moving parts? The chance of utter disaster is as big as the cake. And there's the sugar challenge. Four feet of molded sugar in crazy fantastic design? I can't look away. If I do, a crackle, a gasp, or a shatter draws me back. I would get more done if I'd never seen these shows, I'm pretty sure of it. At least it doesn't give me the urge to cook anything. That would be unforgivable.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Ne7BBW4-lp4" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-6318919226147746952012-02-02T15:45:00.000-06:002012-02-02T15:45:21.159-06:0010 things about CHA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5JCzOOrZFQOm4TGqhS8cmbBUqyWCvhXvDMh1QqlODS2YZjJTVYGrQDc02GRHVyweAvHwRAOovkmE6uTtJnETzE2vwnQ2XnItgS78yv0SLS39AnqSoRqzCp5G72h4omnq8LZwyQ/s1600/CHA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5JCzOOrZFQOm4TGqhS8cmbBUqyWCvhXvDMh1QqlODS2YZjJTVYGrQDc02GRHVyweAvHwRAOovkmE6uTtJnETzE2vwnQ2XnItgS78yv0SLS39AnqSoRqzCp5G72h4omnq8LZwyQ/s400/CHA.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>I made it home from sunny Anaheim on Tuesday. Except for the creeping crud I contracted somewhere, it was an easy trip.<br />
<br />
Here are 10 things that happened:<br />
1. My immune system was compromised by a shocking lack of soft drinks in general and Diet Coke in particular. I am still working on restoring my blood to the proper levels of carbonation.<br />
2. It was down right hot in Anaheim. In January. The pool looked so good.<br />
3. How do I know how good the pool looked? My room was in close-range shrieking distance of the pool. And the video arcade. And the self-serve laundry room.<br />
4. There was a Coke machine in the hall. It had no Diet Coke.<br />
5. I spent a lot of time thinking about Diet Coke.<br />
6. We had a duct tape make-and-take in the booth, presided over by Patti "Duct Tape Diva" Wallenfang. She's famous, made the newspaper in her duct tape dress.<br />
7. We had book signings with Drew "The Crochet Dude" Emborsky, Shannon Mullett-Bowlsby, and Kim Novak.<br />
8. We had Knook demos running at the same time. And it was really interesting to see the reaction to the Knook. Lindsay did a great job of showing how easy knooking can be.<br />
9. We were included in the Innovations show, where 20 products were chosen by judges. Each spokesperson had 60 seconds to sell the product in front of the group and then 30 minutes to demo. Afterwards, there was voting. And our Knook won Honorable Mention (one of the top 3 spots). Woo. Hoo! There have been a lot of people working hard to make that a success so it was nice to win.<br />
10. I had multiple birthday celebrations. And there ain't nothing wrong with that.<br />
Thanks to all my Facebook friends for all the birthday wises. I was trudging through airports but it was great to see all my posts.<br />
<br />
11. What did I see? Painted canvas make-and-takes featuring happy little trees and cupcakes (not a fast hobby, that painting), feathers (peacock, purple, real, and so very fake), bling (chandeliers, metallic papers), words and words and words, birds, dark and moody color ways featuring black line drawings and the tattoo-look, bright and clean colorways with stylized art that looked pretty cheerful, yellow and grey, orange and orange and orange, a toned down, softer turquoise and red/pink, and lots of gadgets (sewing, paper crafts, tape), and celebrity lines for just about every crafty item you can think of.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-69744844542620008882012-01-27T08:12:00.000-06:002012-01-27T08:12:32.345-06:00Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?I hesitate to post this when Jack is on his way to for a stay at a day spa in the country where he will run with a herd of beagles during the day and sleep on someone else's head/pillow at night, but when I got home yesterday, the cushion from the back of my chair was in the floor along with this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rvNvxl8GsnnQLv1XtvrE_AivcuTKQt2Ao3opoYvInpJtvxeum25pjoxpLsPkQZMByel1O8jcJwJwW0STvk9htVK9lDPuLg3VgrnEgNNC4mhfRtSRcrtMPaFPmrC7Ivp4Nda5jQ/s1600/slipper.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rvNvxl8GsnnQLv1XtvrE_AivcuTKQt2Ao3opoYvInpJtvxeum25pjoxpLsPkQZMByel1O8jcJwJwW0STvk9htVK9lDPuLg3VgrnEgNNC4mhfRtSRcrtMPaFPmrC7Ivp4Nda5jQ/s320/slipper.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I flipped at first, thinking the foam was from the cushion. It wasn't. It was from a dangerous slipper that didn't survive. It will never threaten the world again. I asked Jack about it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXChtSsqMpmj61ltbRAXoGLd31pg4yBMyddfe_Uvyi8rYG1L6HVNLAdzzzTXqhhDeCwULIMbcrkdyXw8W5vDVAtR5KGjbQmZEdRT47mgaUBR4BXeIZGsGUSBp1tGrWKTh04dI7Iw/s1600/Jack.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXChtSsqMpmj61ltbRAXoGLd31pg4yBMyddfe_Uvyi8rYG1L6HVNLAdzzzTXqhhDeCwULIMbcrkdyXw8W5vDVAtR5KGjbQmZEdRT47mgaUBR4BXeIZGsGUSBp1tGrWKTh04dI7Iw/s400/Jack.JPG" width="298" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He has no idea how it happened. He didn't see a thing. He's not a great guard dog. He somehow slept through an intruder coming in and chewing up my slipper. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What? You think Jack did it? Have you seen this face? Impossible.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-75958194407491329652012-01-26T07:51:00.001-06:002012-01-26T07:52:27.598-06:00Tradeshow locationsHouston in October isn't too bad.<br />
Orlando in July was a really bad idea.<br />
Portland in May was beautiful, lovely, and the place and time I'd like to live always.<br />
Chicago in the summer...eh, I traveled from hotel to convention center via tunnel so who knows?<br />
Ditto Las Vegas. I mostly remember slot machines and Star Trek-themed lunch with masked characters which I DO NOT LIKE. Neither had anything to do with the tradeshow.<br />
<br />
And then there's Anaheim. In California. Beautiful, sunny Anaheim. It snowed in Malibu the first year I went to this tradeshow and I believe I've worn a sweatshirt every time I've gone, but it's January. I get that. Here's the forecast for my trip to CHA:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwDcg8zYEkMTjEjU7PAgiATOM-YcM3P0YuNojKyv43IlmeaUixYia_U8aJjEdZ-DvohKSnbugfdFhMNwmrEzx6n08yASEiqE-iYNtDX9l44-NVNGcksFvI4d2BkMQCGZYdd75Zg/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-01-26+at+7.39.18+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwDcg8zYEkMTjEjU7PAgiATOM-YcM3P0YuNojKyv43IlmeaUixYia_U8aJjEdZ-DvohKSnbugfdFhMNwmrEzx6n08yASEiqE-iYNtDX9l44-NVNGcksFvI4d2BkMQCGZYdd75Zg/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-01-26+at+7.39.18+AM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's going to be nice. Did I mention that the 79 degree day is also my birthday? (Upside: sunny California. Downside: airport at the crack of dawn, TSA, and being crammed into the window seat for painful, unending, crazy-making hours. Thank you, Lord, for not making me a traveling salesperson, but why did you have to put the sunny coast so far away?). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yeah, well, that makes it easy to remember the weather for this time of year. I have two choices: a foot of snow or spring-like beauty, with very little in between.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's the forecast for home on the same days:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3guFDwTMZHEFjp14uvTUpyleUp63jLTrD-UoEVNKv5p3NOhS6kZDdksMc2qycAUaNhcbwrxHtMemBsYWrAcr-72Ja8L_AYRA5__fecD440GxD7DPLP6tW4Svr_Eu0BCIm0_b_Zw/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-01-26+at+7.39.57+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3guFDwTMZHEFjp14uvTUpyleUp63jLTrD-UoEVNKv5p3NOhS6kZDdksMc2qycAUaNhcbwrxHtMemBsYWrAcr-72Ja8L_AYRA5__fecD440GxD7DPLP6tW4Svr_Eu0BCIm0_b_Zw/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-01-26+at+7.39.57+AM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am looking forward to the weather on the trip, but I can almost hear gnashing of teeth from northern climes over 64 degrees (and it's higher the next day). Come to Arkansas. Right now. It's all good right now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-84135564656600052302012-01-24T08:34:00.000-06:002012-01-24T08:34:56.709-06:00My newest purchase<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFs73UfH7MU_zReeQV4XaoRyKQJlgv_g8b-5sjjhTdB8OmIl9xk33dUi0xP-BBvt_Z7w5dYm5u1vruouIG3nEg5KpubwtXIKKd5THO1PvBVMbdyXmZOhTsmk0p75sF2epng5ifFA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFs73UfH7MU_zReeQV4XaoRyKQJlgv_g8b-5sjjhTdB8OmIl9xk33dUi0xP-BBvt_Z7w5dYm5u1vruouIG3nEg5KpubwtXIKKd5THO1PvBVMbdyXmZOhTsmk0p75sF2epng5ifFA/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I'm wearing these while I write.<br />
I don't expect to get much use out of them because I have a long history of getting glasses and then not wearing them.<br />
Why? My vision's still pretty good, but we are reaching the point where I can see a difference when I put them on. (See? Get it?)<br />
Why do I think you care? I have no idea, but it's really the newest development in the exciting life I lead.<br />
<br />
Jack's class is tonight: sub-novice obedience. We've been made an example of, but he did a lot better last week. I have my fingers crossed that it's a trend.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-57992494201361048422012-01-20T09:19:00.000-06:002012-01-20T09:19:37.675-06:00Enthusiasm, or why you should probably have a dogJack's morning routine is this:<br />
My alarm clock goes off. I get up, hit snooze, and try to get nine more minutes of blessed rest.<br />
Jack immediately begins nudging, clambering, crawling, poking and prodding.<br />
My alarm goes off again. I throw myself out of bed in a bad mood, slap off the alarm in a bad mood, and climb in the shower in a bad mood.<br />
Jack is waiting for me when I get out. His is happy. I am only awake.<br />
I dress myself and smoosh a bit of goop in my hair before adding a thin layer of veneer to my face.<br />
Then Jack and I run into the living room. He picks up the ball. I throw it. He brings it back.<br />
We do this for a time. The limit depends on how many times I hit the snooze.<br />
I pack a healthy and not quite appetizing lunch. Jack sits and waits, tail wagging.<br />
<br />
Then I pack his purple toy with treats. And this is what that looks like. Everyone should have a dog. The enthusiasm is not quite contagious but it makes me smile before I hit the commute.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KqAb_SZu_OQ" width="420"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-49300397282795573582012-01-18T07:52:00.001-06:002012-01-18T07:52:00.087-06:00Spring-likeWe've had some nice weather, plenty of sun. Jack has a new favorite spot.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5c1I1ciIlOIGyFeaugd_8c0aHOGd8qagfnM3UXAC8zvYOFd0Zr2LSmmf-mSaYaq40HUyyDq1dgmR9IZ_8tH0U_rB8JdoXPkk9a9LElw-1rqPhGT3m38AFZ7VwUZUIJqJql5smfQ/s1600/sunshine.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5c1I1ciIlOIGyFeaugd_8c0aHOGd8qagfnM3UXAC8zvYOFd0Zr2LSmmf-mSaYaq40HUyyDq1dgmR9IZ_8tH0U_rB8JdoXPkk9a9LElw-1rqPhGT3m38AFZ7VwUZUIJqJql5smfQ/s400/sunshine.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-61829339542286298162012-01-16T18:51:00.000-06:002012-01-16T18:51:39.243-06:00Another use for yarnWhy I'm not getting a lot of knitting done:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiUuWP_0V1w81nRRDfIRY1Dr2Sk6N2zK-rNZZ0InX9MhbHZayMmSnZMcGVB3R668to_mavZY6lPk93q7-LUVQFydhVFmq1AAFWYfUMdj0IBseXdVIhI3QG0ZrYmRyYkyt0gZfUA/s1600/knit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiUuWP_0V1w81nRRDfIRY1Dr2Sk6N2zK-rNZZ0InX9MhbHZayMmSnZMcGVB3R668to_mavZY6lPk93q7-LUVQFydhVFmq1AAFWYfUMdj0IBseXdVIhI3QG0ZrYmRyYkyt0gZfUA/s400/knit.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-57249302140130866442012-01-12T07:35:00.000-06:002012-01-12T07:35:02.145-06:00Crochet on tvSo, brace yourselves. Here comes a sentence I could not have predicted in a million years.<br />
<br />
Last night, thanks to Celebrity Wife Swap, I watched Flavor Flav's wife (fiance?) try to teach Dee Snider and his family how to crochet.<br />
<br />
Yes, really. Dee Snider sat there, wrapping yarn around a crochet hook.<br />
<br />
And because I can already hear the questions.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWOKpfN5Ry4Xkst67KbSGkTG6ynHXs-94zgpvROzVS-MTEMj6gr6Fy37PjLUOVBs_35duKF7tbMC6fAYlegnGN5gvBed6yF9n9TweuaOKrAc4qhyphenhyphen30dM1Qiu9JtlsMThJToZ_2Q/s1600/Flav.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWOKpfN5Ry4Xkst67KbSGkTG6ynHXs-94zgpvROzVS-MTEMj6gr6Fy37PjLUOVBs_35duKF7tbMC6fAYlegnGN5gvBed6yF9n9TweuaOKrAc4qhyphenhyphen30dM1Qiu9JtlsMThJToZ_2Q/s320/Flav.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This is Flavor Flav and the crochet teacher. His claim to fame: member of Public Enemy and the greatest hype man in the business. I have no idea how you prove that claim.<br />
<br />
What I learned about him: he loves his kid and mostly acts like one.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dNMVGq9HXbynjpBtR187Q4_Bg84pmr26nlpUKhqknSh8H2sra0I4LigW3x60pQu3cYdHOBVh-bpCVU2t-bbivSOjkjH_OLI1hoC9BSo5twIsvULX5-GIBF3FxmT9_VPdbu1TaA/s1600/sniders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dNMVGq9HXbynjpBtR187Q4_Bg84pmr26nlpUKhqknSh8H2sra0I4LigW3x60pQu3cYdHOBVh-bpCVU2t-bbivSOjkjH_OLI1hoC9BSo5twIsvULX5-GIBF3FxmT9_VPdbu1TaA/s320/sniders.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Dee Snider and his family. And because I can already hear the questions, his rock persona is below. What I learned about him: seems like a good dad, good husband, a nice guy. Also, has no crochet skill but deserves credit for trying. I could not find a picture of Dee holding a crochet hook and wrapping yarn around it.<br />
<br />
This was after I watched the Gary Busey episode. The expected train wreck between his crazy and the disgraced preacher never arrived. What I learned about them: they seem to have picked good wives. Also, there was no crochet.<br />
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Next up: Niecy Nash and Tina Yothers. Hijinks will ensue. I do not expect them to involve crochet.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qN8HAo0EV1d0Usn2Y_VWh2xhKukmhVOo41qqHI72OEWLMXFHbFk_P7HaCamKCU30o6-kILQppvQHFYEtn2jv2AJs3Yp3m5LISkgWxU5iVsgArKfcpoqnmkoRWn3XigVwdsyxdg/s1600/Dee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qN8HAo0EV1d0Usn2Y_VWh2xhKukmhVOo41qqHI72OEWLMXFHbFk_P7HaCamKCU30o6-kILQppvQHFYEtn2jv2AJs3Yp3m5LISkgWxU5iVsgArKfcpoqnmkoRWn3XigVwdsyxdg/s1600/Dee.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<span id="goog_1610829712"></span><span id="goog_1610829713"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-34007335935717495142012-01-11T07:32:00.000-06:002012-01-11T07:32:25.081-06:00National Clean Off Your Desk DayThe goofy radio show I listen on the way in to work was talking about this today. Happily, I started cleaning off my desk yesterday. When there's a National Clean Off the Flat Surfaces You Pile Stuff On So That Your Desk Looks Better And You Can Actually Sit There AND Breathe Without Contemplating How Much Difference One Single Match Could Make To Your To-Do List, I'm going to have real trouble.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiiQl2mPpfGD4QLu1_-V-duxrinfG3cRGfG8g_dbaV6fJzS6iLoHPhMi3wmRgeMTTjkabeCUKHEVKzNw5MmV0q8yH6aPuiZTlr7suNONSth41K_6jM1Qn5Kmdqy6u5V5bO5VXkA/s1600/desk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiiQl2mPpfGD4QLu1_-V-duxrinfG3cRGfG8g_dbaV6fJzS6iLoHPhMi3wmRgeMTTjkabeCUKHEVKzNw5MmV0q8yH6aPuiZTlr7suNONSth41K_6jM1Qn5Kmdqy6u5V5bO5VXkA/s400/desk.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Things on my desk:<br />
1. A list of items that need to be ready for Sales.<br />
2. The valuable stack of sticky notes, needed every day.<br />
3. A tape measure, possibly not a common item on most office desks but it comes in handy around here.<br />
4. An apple, abandoned on Monday. There is a new attempt to eat better at this desk. I expect that to shrivel like this apple will.<br />
5. Healthy Cuticles. This might be TMI but my hands need all the help they can get.<br />
6. Stress Relief lotion from Bath and Body. Don't believe the hype.<br />
7. Glass for water.<br />
8. Diet Coke. The good stuff.<br />
9. Various work form-y stuff that needs to be filed.<br />
10. Stack o'magazines. It's been building. Must. Get. Through.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-74174382012149392272012-01-03T06:27:00.000-06:002012-01-03T06:27:00.241-06:00Almost winningIn case you were wondering what the spoils of almost winning a national writing contest to be included in a Debbie Macomber book looks like, here you go. A box showed up from Avon books so it was just like...Christmas.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7q8QV0TkBY/TwJoQdF8C4I/AAAAAAAAFOo/A4wj0jhgjps/s1600/books.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7q8QV0TkBY/TwJoQdF8C4I/AAAAAAAAFOo/A4wj0jhgjps/s400/books.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-82663643489003599042012-01-02T20:26:00.000-06:002012-01-02T20:26:52.959-06:00Christmas vacation<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_HhPDP7hPSE/TwJlb93vOAI/AAAAAAAAFOU/ohaeaae14cU/s1600/map.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_HhPDP7hPSE/TwJlb93vOAI/AAAAAAAAFOU/ohaeaae14cU/s320/map.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>So it's back to normal this week and I have a blog post or two. I know! It's been a while, right? I survived Christmas. And then last week my family and I spent some time working though my grandmother's stuff. There was a lawyer. There were boxes. There were mulitple trips to Goodwill. And my trashcan overfloweth. We were busy.<br />
<br />
The map: A is where I live. B is her house. It was a haul. But it was a beautiful haul.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dqXrt3D9AUA/TwJlkgMHeSI/AAAAAAAAFOc/-pIbwkLtC3Y/s1600/horse.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dqXrt3D9AUA/TwJlkgMHeSI/AAAAAAAAFOc/-pIbwkLtC3Y/s1600/horse.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dqXrt3D9AUA/TwJlkgMHeSI/AAAAAAAAFOc/-pIbwkLtC3Y/s320/horse.JPG" width="320" /></a>The horse: one of the neighbors.<br />
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</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KoPgqIeC6Q4/TwJkJVW7AtI/AAAAAAAAFOI/IhGI-StMxDw/s1600/jack.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KoPgqIeC6Q4/TwJkJVW7AtI/AAAAAAAAFOI/IhGI-StMxDw/s320/jack.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The dog: very much a country dog at heart. The wind is always blowing at my grandmother's house. It's in the middle of pastures on a dirt road. Jack had a field day but he froze. Then he collapsed in front of the stove. Every time. Between the visiting dog, the wide open spaces, and the stove, Jack was in heaven.<br />
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What about you? Was it a good vacation? Make any resolutions? None for me. I have plenty from previous years that I could pull out if I need one at some point.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-38652627232340536752011-12-16T06:23:00.001-06:002011-12-16T06:23:01.280-06:00Twenty minutes or less<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaEnS1vHZzUSkEQDyVE-TjeXdV9x5U5Wx06acAc4mkHVbFGryCc4-mfaTSsjk0xdBiB8ThGwpzNFvPAUIfrmSYuCef-gLjIH7umsSHUXJSrz-Y1AI5o4AciRyeUsXN1X1E1p7Xw/s1600/before.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaEnS1vHZzUSkEQDyVE-TjeXdV9x5U5Wx06acAc4mkHVbFGryCc4-mfaTSsjk0xdBiB8ThGwpzNFvPAUIfrmSYuCef-gLjIH7umsSHUXJSrz-Y1AI5o4AciRyeUsXN1X1E1p7Xw/s320/before.jpg" width="239" /></a>Jack's mom away from home, Jean, got him this squeaky carrot for Christmas. In the excitement of "I'm home, I'm home" I gave it to Jack. And then I cooked some unimpressive dinner. When I turned around, the toy was in pieces. All the stuffing was pulled out through one eyeball and the squeaky was exposed. I'm definitely going to have to start getting toys that are larger than Jack. And made of steel. Jean, Jack was very happy to get his toy. He says "thank you" right after he spits out his mouthful of fiberfill.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrgk9JF1c3p97udVGfbXqt1luHMBgXvsY8tVibs6olUxlmDhFVSYs5i_aBzw0CPZEHJzyHvlPxujj8yhn7byVmlHa2TZMDlr0AVOuF9ynd-P_o56mNO7XWRXxl2z1Ai7vsaTkKw/s1600/after.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrgk9JF1c3p97udVGfbXqt1luHMBgXvsY8tVibs6olUxlmDhFVSYs5i_aBzw0CPZEHJzyHvlPxujj8yhn7byVmlHa2TZMDlr0AVOuF9ynd-P_o56mNO7XWRXxl2z1Ai7vsaTkKw/s400/after.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-3557142404021252692011-12-14T07:35:00.000-06:002011-12-14T07:35:11.814-06:00Class clown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiE9n-sM8xoGiHHoaHX2tNbF9aAHzk_yl5H_xMU3e2h-S-6mtvvploTRGs5L1eVyD1LJHKdDJyetpBNsGt7HOxPypY7ADqnhxLDc3nuSCJoU5-E_ihyphenhyphenf9HFHpMiLVu3lcKU-jo8Q/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-12-14+at+7.24.56+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiE9n-sM8xoGiHHoaHX2tNbF9aAHzk_yl5H_xMU3e2h-S-6mtvvploTRGs5L1eVyD1LJHKdDJyetpBNsGt7HOxPypY7ADqnhxLDc3nuSCJoU5-E_ihyphenhyphenf9HFHpMiLVu3lcKU-jo8Q/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-12-14+at+7.24.56+AM.png" /></a></div>Jack did it. By the hairs on his chin he passed his test last night. I am an overachiever. I understand this. Jack is just caught up in my wake. I got there very early to practice with Jack. He acted like a total nut, whimpering, whining, corrupting a beautiful dog who was on the longest stay with an absent owner. It was impressive. So was Jack. This is the way he works. I was the first one to take the test. This is how I work. Together we managed to make it through.<br />
<br />
Chip, the show dog that went with us through the test, had some difficulties, so I was sweating the whole time. Jack has a hard time focusing under good circumstances. If another dog is acting up, he's so there.<br />
<br />
I mentioned that having his picture made with Santa wasn't even the craziest dog-lady thing I'd done, right? Jack is now registered as Jumping Jack with the AKC. He had to be to get his Canine Good Citizen certification.<br />
<br />
It's okay. I know. He's a dog.<br />
<br />
But now he can become a therapy dog or a rally champion or an agility champion.<br />
Or I can take him to doggie day care.<br />
Either way, he'll be happy.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-90005710036831304772011-12-06T08:20:00.000-06:002011-12-06T08:20:09.012-06:00Why Jack can't have nice things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoVehty16d56Uf2Alvad8F-F2yUeTMCjRuSKjPwjAXDPhA61eN0O7RitUMixjhZRkqg4QcTQkioWATDF0ATPZDwgcyfEL-j76w4FTEzEJcZumzOXfgdiXF5FdhwWONiYXBl9nhw/s1600/bone.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoVehty16d56Uf2Alvad8F-F2yUeTMCjRuSKjPwjAXDPhA61eN0O7RitUMixjhZRkqg4QcTQkioWATDF0ATPZDwgcyfEL-j76w4FTEzEJcZumzOXfgdiXF5FdhwWONiYXBl9nhw/s400/bone.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>This is a Nylabone. This is not some flimsy plastic dog toy that you might pick up for a steal. This is the good stuff. This is Jack's third one. We've now known each other for almost 8 months. Darcy had one that lasted the first half of her life until I tossed it after finally understanding that she had zero interest in powerful chewing of that sort.<br />
<br />
On Saturday, Jack had a big day. I loaded him in the car and drove him to the library where I dropped off books, then to the park for his walk, and then to PetSmart to have his picture made with Santa (and that's not even the dog-craziest thing I've done in the past week, so there.) After all that, I bought him a new Nylabone. And I came home yesterday to find this. So the life of this bone, the one for powerful-chewing medium sized dogs, lasted less than 3 days.<br />
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He's also destroyed a Kong Wubba (fuzzy, squeaky with long "legs" that he can force me to play tug of war with) so I bought him one bigger than his head. So far, so good. In the future, I'm gong to make that a requirement. Is it bigger than Jack's head? Yes. Okay, let's give it a try.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-1541575983222716302011-12-05T12:31:00.000-06:002011-12-05T12:31:20.141-06:00Beggars, choosers, etc.Things you might not know about my family:<div>1. I am the youngest and the only girl of three kids.</div><div>2. I am also the most charming, but it's hard to tell because I am also the quietest. </div><div>3. My brother will disagree with #2. The most charming part, not the quietest. He likes to introduce me as his older sister even though he's 7 years older than I am. Other people think he's charming.</div><div>4. Most of my family lives within about 30 minutes of me.</div><div>5. This is a blessing. Really.</div><div>6. I have a family that fights over things like keepsakes and valuables and the last piece of pie like this: No, you take it. No, you take it. No, I don't need it so you take it.</div><div>7. This is a blessing. Really.</div><div>8. Cussed independence is the trait that is easiest to see in several people in my family tree. I will not name names at this time.</div><div>9. My brother gets called on for all moving requests that are so large that they conquer #8. Like, say you get new furniture or a new television that you can't figure out any way to lift on your own short of inventing and installing a complex system of ropes and pulleys. When you can't figure out how to beg, borrow, or steal it yourself, you (meaning me) call your big brother.</div><div>10. He agrees immediately, possibly because the shock of being asked for help renders him unable to remember his other scheduled commitments of which there are one trillion zillion because he is charming. And then he and his wife show up, move out whatever it is that weighs a trillion zillion pounds while you stand back and hold the dog. The catch? They show up at 10:30. In the p.m. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I have a good family. They stay until the job is done.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-66328923119186327152011-11-30T07:41:00.000-06:002011-11-30T07:41:23.401-06:00This guy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnkVrj-FKOnqT2UMJ55EC2b8QWOpz9xlS2Ub7kxuVMDho36uaTprfv_inARYlctCPCrjAT4V1OJISRy_YN9MxEfvXtdtf4TUkEDqN8AB0P0MqX0J-IA4W6_EGFJAoe3LgPywhig/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnkVrj-FKOnqT2UMJ55EC2b8QWOpz9xlS2Ub7kxuVMDho36uaTprfv_inARYlctCPCrjAT4V1OJISRy_YN9MxEfvXtdtf4TUkEDqN8AB0P0MqX0J-IA4W6_EGFJAoe3LgPywhig/s320/photo.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>This is what happens when you buy the wrong Milkbone box. Your dog occasionally gets a treat that is as large as his head. Instead of grabbing the large box of small bones, I picked up the large bog of large bones. There is a sizable difference in square treat area.<br />
<br />
Some things deserve a large treat. Jack had his Canine Good Citizen class last night. We missed last week because of all the traveling I did so I knew he was going to be wound up. And he was. There was jumping. There was whimpering. There was crying. There was a sharp, high-pitched bark of glee. There was tumbling with his friends. There was making new friends.<br />
<br />
And that all happened in the 15 minutes before the class started. I was thiiiiis close to picking up the squirming whirlwind of fur to sneak back out to my car when the teacher started class. I ignored my feeling of impending doom and stuck it out. And he surprised me. He could have done better, but he could have done so, so, so much worse too. I have serious doubts that he'll be able to pass the test, but we have one more class for it to magically come together. And if he doesn't pass the test? He'll never make it into a good college.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't pass the test, he can try, try again.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-12328201567452512702011-11-29T07:45:00.000-06:002011-11-29T07:45:46.773-06:00Long time, no postDid you think I'd moved away and left no forwarding address? The thought has crossed my mind lately but I'd take my blog and blog friends with me. I promise.<br />
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My grandmother died around 3:30 on Sunday morning, November 20, and my brain has been on overload since then, so no blog posts! Since my mother's gone, my aunt needed as much help as we could give her (possibly more, but you have to work with what you've got, right?). For most of her life, my grandmother lived near Mountain View which is about 2 hours from Little Rock. When you add in storms of monsoon proportions with flash floods and closed interstates, it gets even more adventurous. Throw in several "Crooked and steep next 17 miles" signs and funeral homes in three different places, and I was pooped before everything was taken care of.<br />
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Oh, yeah, and then there was a holiday too. Basically, what I'm saying here is that I'm still pooped. I expect to remain in this condition for a bit, but I'm going to pick back up the posts. Expect to see lots of Jack the dog posts!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-82161230862487373252011-11-17T07:44:00.000-06:002011-11-17T07:44:07.083-06:00Books to MoviesIf you've somehow missed it, there's a buzz about the first Hunger Games trailer. Because I can name several many people who don't know The Hunger Games, I'll remind you that I read it (because there was going to be a movie) and talked about it <a href="http://livinginamaterialworld.blogspot.com/2011/01/book-day.html">here</a>. It takes place in America in the very bleak future where the country has been arranged into districts that serve the frivolous people in the capitol district. There's a reaping ceremony where 2 young people from each district are chosen to compete in the ultimate of reality shows, a live televised competition where 24 people go in but only one survives. It's a hard life in the district where food is rationed. You can ask for more, but that means you have more entries in the reaping, more chances to be chosen. Katniss Everdeen volunteers to save her sister. And then she changes the game.<br />
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<div style="background-color: black; width: 520px;"><div style="padding: 4px;"><embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" base="." flashvars="" height="288" src="http://media.mtvnservices.com/mgid:uma:video:mtv.com:711864/cp~id%3D1674343%26vid%3D711864%26uri%3Dmgid%3Auma%3Avideo%3Amtv.com%3A711864" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="512"></embed><br />
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 4px; padding: 4px; text-align: left;">Get More: <a href="http://www.mtv.com13516/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Liam Hemsworth</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com14671/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Jennifer Lawrence</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com3618/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Elizabeth Banks</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com2705/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Woody Harrelson</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com10113/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Josh Hutcherson</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com2558/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Stanley Tucci</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com/movies/trailer_park/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Movie Trailers</a>, <a href="http://moviesblog.mtv.com/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Movies Blog</a></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25399940.post-843261747209811482011-11-16T07:28:00.000-06:002011-11-16T07:28:25.039-06:00A lot of work<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8N8yCfSNsz1Za7b69p6LSQdRAZtTyt7HqmkbYgosGYVqg_bm5hCpoHOB_CPVUtX0w8VaarxInHMd_rrj7lN9gpKOfeDP8zKtM9bp5cCxbuFjMOhu0W04stgpEfDX8lLdjeUBURg/s1600/pillow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8N8yCfSNsz1Za7b69p6LSQdRAZtTyt7HqmkbYgosGYVqg_bm5hCpoHOB_CPVUtX0w8VaarxInHMd_rrj7lN9gpKOfeDP8zKtM9bp5cCxbuFjMOhu0W04stgpEfDX8lLdjeUBURg/s320/pillow.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>This is calm Jack. I believe this was taken Saturday afternoon after a nice, looooong walk at the park. He is relaxing in style. He's pretty good at that, becoming a limp mass of fur and legs that you can position in most any way without disturbing him.<br />
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But then there's the other Jack. The Tuesday Night Jack. That Jack is W-I-L-D. He has all the attention deficit and hyperactivity mixed with selective hearing. Thank goodness for treats. I believe he's corrupted all but two of the dogs in this class (watch out Chip and Cowboy). His latest conquest is Cheeto, the laid-back-and-perfectly-behaved Lab. Last night he had Cheeto whimpering, barking, rolling around and jumping instead of listening. And all I could do is look at Cheeto's person and mumble "Sorry" as I wrestled my wiggling mass away.<br />
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You just can't argue with the joy on his face, though. I'm glad he can't be sent to detention. We'd spend our whole lives there.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1