This morning Peter woke up to find a pile of mushy poop next to the kitchen door.
Poor Rocky.
He's feeling much better after we've fed him several Pepto-Bismol pills. He's stopped wanting to go out every two seconds and his farting has subsided. I'm glad I didn't have to take him to the vet.
The sweet thing is that when he's not feeling good, he sidles up next to Peter and curls up against him--and when Peter goes upstairs at night, Rocky curls up by the staircase.
One funny thing about this whole thing is that before this week, Rocky's never had an audible fart. But during the past few days, he'll be lying down and a loud fart comes ripping out of his butt, which makes him jump up and whip his body around and he looks at me like, "What the HELL is goin' on here!"
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Don't Put Bird Seed Out in December
While we were at the Lowe's shopping for faucet hoses and Christmas decorations, we saw several bird feeders and I picked one up because we have some of the cutest little birds flying around our house, including some gorgeous bright red cardinals and bluejays.
One morning a few weeks ago, Peter says, "Look out the window!"
There hung the bird feeder filled with birdseed.
"Hmmmm." I said. "Should you have put this out right now? I don't think there are any birds."
"Sure there are birds!"
Yah. Right.
Fast forward to yesterday when Rocky wouldn't come back into the house every time I let him out. Usually he starts to run for the door as soon as he hears me open it. Last night, I went out there and he was engrossed with a portion of the yard. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I was really surprised that when I dangled a carrot he still would not come back. I mean, he usually mows down anything in his way to get to his carrot.
This morning Peter discovered that the bird feeder that had remained filled with birdseed for the past few weeks was now hanging empty. Apparently, the bottom of the feeder fell out and all the seed tumbled all over our lawn. Crappy $5 bird feeder! Damn you!!
What Rocky had been doing all day yesterday was EATING THE BIRD SEED.
And today he has been farting and farting and coming up to us and nudging us to let him out. As soon as I let him back in the house, he starts to nudge us again to be let out. It's driving us totally bonkers!
These birdseed farts are the most heinous and noxious things ever created.
I said to Peter, "Do you think that he's put two and two together that the eating the birdseed is what caused the diarrhea?"
"Uhm," he said. "Maybe."
"Well, I hope he's learned his lesson!"
"Don't you mean, you hope that WE'VE learned the lesson?"
One morning a few weeks ago, Peter says, "Look out the window!"
There hung the bird feeder filled with birdseed.
"Hmmmm." I said. "Should you have put this out right now? I don't think there are any birds."
"Sure there are birds!"
Yah. Right.
Fast forward to yesterday when Rocky wouldn't come back into the house every time I let him out. Usually he starts to run for the door as soon as he hears me open it. Last night, I went out there and he was engrossed with a portion of the yard. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I was really surprised that when I dangled a carrot he still would not come back. I mean, he usually mows down anything in his way to get to his carrot.
This morning Peter discovered that the bird feeder that had remained filled with birdseed for the past few weeks was now hanging empty. Apparently, the bottom of the feeder fell out and all the seed tumbled all over our lawn. Crappy $5 bird feeder! Damn you!!
What Rocky had been doing all day yesterday was EATING THE BIRD SEED.
And today he has been farting and farting and coming up to us and nudging us to let him out. As soon as I let him back in the house, he starts to nudge us again to be let out. It's driving us totally bonkers!
These birdseed farts are the most heinous and noxious things ever created.
I said to Peter, "Do you think that he's put two and two together that the eating the birdseed is what caused the diarrhea?"
"Uhm," he said. "Maybe."
"Well, I hope he's learned his lesson!"
"Don't you mean, you hope that WE'VE learned the lesson?"
Friday, December 25, 2009
Smart Santa
When I was six years old my family and I moved to a house in New Jersey, the same house that my parents live now. I was super excited for Christmas because we had a REAL FIREPLACE!! Which meant that Santa could come to the house!! The year before my father had to wait up and let him in the front door.
I told my mother that I needed to get a stocking so that Santa could put a present in it. She really didn't take me very seriously but I whined and whined about it and finally she went to her suitcase and pulled out all sort of stupid stockings. I wanted to go out and buy a real red and white stocking like everyone had, but we didn't have much money in those days. My mom pulled out this long green, orange and white striped thigh-high stocking that she had, remember, this was the seventies, and my father fastened it above our mantelpiece.
Of course I was all, "Uhm...That's totally never going to work. The only thing that's going to fit into THAT stocking is a baseball bat...and I DON'T WANT a baseball bat!!"
This was just another one of those American things that my parents get ALL WRONG and now I was resigned to the fact that I was going to get a stupid gift.
So come Christmas morning, I ran down the stairs to find that Santa had TIED THE STOCKING AROUND MY PRESENT. It was a paint-by-numbers set of Wyle E. Coyote. I really loved that present because IT WAS NOT A BASEBALL BAT!! Instead of trying to put something INSIDE the stocking, he thought OUTSIDE THE BOX!!
And I remember thinking, "Wow, that Santa is SO SMART. No matter what silly stuff my parents do to try to RUIN EVERYTHING, he TOTALLY KNOWS how to make it right. Because he's SANTA."
I told my mother that I needed to get a stocking so that Santa could put a present in it. She really didn't take me very seriously but I whined and whined about it and finally she went to her suitcase and pulled out all sort of stupid stockings. I wanted to go out and buy a real red and white stocking like everyone had, but we didn't have much money in those days. My mom pulled out this long green, orange and white striped thigh-high stocking that she had, remember, this was the seventies, and my father fastened it above our mantelpiece.
Of course I was all, "Uhm...That's totally never going to work. The only thing that's going to fit into THAT stocking is a baseball bat...and I DON'T WANT a baseball bat!!"
This was just another one of those American things that my parents get ALL WRONG and now I was resigned to the fact that I was going to get a stupid gift.
So come Christmas morning, I ran down the stairs to find that Santa had TIED THE STOCKING AROUND MY PRESENT. It was a paint-by-numbers set of Wyle E. Coyote. I really loved that present because IT WAS NOT A BASEBALL BAT!! Instead of trying to put something INSIDE the stocking, he thought OUTSIDE THE BOX!!
And I remember thinking, "Wow, that Santa is SO SMART. No matter what silly stuff my parents do to try to RUIN EVERYTHING, he TOTALLY KNOWS how to make it right. Because he's SANTA."
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
oink OINK!!
So I have the chills, a slight fever (or a broken thermometer), sore throat, runny nose, a cough, and the no-feeling-so-goods.
I'm really deathly afraid of swine flu--especially since I'm a germaphobe in general. But when I came down with this cold, everyone in my life has pooh-poohed me whenever I bring up swine flu.
The last few days, I've been putting Swine Flu apps on my iphone and checking my temperature with this Vicks thermometer I had lying around.
My temperatures:
99.9
98.4
99.7
98.9
99.6
That's just the last five minutes. I turned to Peter and asked, "What if this thing is totally shitty and I'm really raging a fever right now?"
Without even touching my forehead, he says, "You DON'T have a fever. If you did, I would know."
And how's that?
Plus, he's being totally unsympathetic about this illness. He's still all, "When are you cleaning up the kitchen?" and "You're not that sick." and "Let the dogs out."
Every time I let the dogs out, a blast of cold air chills me TO THE BONE and takes me two hours to get back to a normal temperature. And when I whine about this, he just gives me a look that is SO COLD--a look that says, "Lady, I just got you an iphone for Christmas and I work two jobs so that you can have it SO EASY."
Yes--he is the best husband in the world, but when it comes to illnesses? He really can't be bothered. AND he doesn't think you're all that sick.
I'm really deathly afraid of swine flu--especially since I'm a germaphobe in general. But when I came down with this cold, everyone in my life has pooh-poohed me whenever I bring up swine flu.
The last few days, I've been putting Swine Flu apps on my iphone and checking my temperature with this Vicks thermometer I had lying around.
My temperatures:
99.9
98.4
99.7
98.9
99.6
That's just the last five minutes. I turned to Peter and asked, "What if this thing is totally shitty and I'm really raging a fever right now?"
Without even touching my forehead, he says, "You DON'T have a fever. If you did, I would know."
And how's that?
Plus, he's being totally unsympathetic about this illness. He's still all, "When are you cleaning up the kitchen?" and "You're not that sick." and "Let the dogs out."
Every time I let the dogs out, a blast of cold air chills me TO THE BONE and takes me two hours to get back to a normal temperature. And when I whine about this, he just gives me a look that is SO COLD--a look that says, "Lady, I just got you an iphone for Christmas and I work two jobs so that you can have it SO EASY."
Yes--he is the best husband in the world, but when it comes to illnesses? He really can't be bothered. AND he doesn't think you're all that sick.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Our Old Dog
Friday, December 04, 2009
The World Has Changed Before Our Eyes
Every morning we've been waking up to a British radio station on our newfangled internet radio alarm clock. And we don't even live in England! Technology is so cool.
Although it's a little jarring to hear the DJ's accent in the morning. I can't understand every third word. Is it the accent or my sleepiness?
Although it's a little jarring to hear the DJ's accent in the morning. I can't understand every third word. Is it the accent or my sleepiness?
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