Fundamental Fridays: Show Me Your Pearly Whites

Alrighty now!  Did you notice it?  Did ya?   A new little face adorns my header.  This little face comes with a name “Q-ball”.  She is now an official member of the pack.  A litter mate of great magnitude.  She is all of 4.5 inches high and should weight between 2 and 4 pounds BUT she is topping the scales at a whopping 8.6 pounds.  She is a bruiser with an attitude that is surly going to lead her into trouble.  Age unknown…somewhere between 6 and 8 years old.

As many of you know, my dad passed away mid October.  I am so grateful I was there for the last few weeks of his life.  My dad had been worrying a lot about his health a few years prior to his death.  More than once, he expressed a need for me to take his dogs if anything happened to him.  I said I would but for him not to worry.  I just knew he could out live them on pure determination only. He asked me to take both of his dogs but I only have Q-Ball.  The other one is in the caring hands of dad’s friend.  The other one, Gomer Pile, had issues at birth which left him with brain damage.  He requires around the clock supervision and that was something that would be hard for me to do since I work.  I know she will care for him as hard as I would have.  My dad told the nurses and me that his chihuahuas understood English completely but he could not understand them cause he did not understand Spanish.  He kept his since of humor until the hour before he died.

So far this is what I know about Q-Ball:

She Snores Loudly. NO REALLY LOUDLY.

She grunts, wait, she snorts with every paw that hits the floor.  This is a good thing at least we know where she is.

She thinks she is the boss OF EVERYTHING and EVERYONE!

She loves the ice cold weather.  I had to drive home with the air-conditioner on and the temp was only 48 degrees outside.

She is so round.  I would be willing to bet she is as big around and she is tall.   I am so very afraid to pick her up most of the time cause I am worried I will pop her like a pimple.  Yes, she is that tight.

This picture makes her look like a mid size dog but in reality she is a tea cup Chihuahua!  Doc says she should be between 2 and 4 pounds ONLY.  Oh my gosh what in the world did my dad feed her?  I know she loves the smell of coffee.

She has a wonkie eye and a little neuro damage in the back legs.  (I hope it is the weight that is causing problems.)

This dog is really strange looking and just a hair on the ugly side (appearance only)

She also comes with her own set of rules, which goes as follows:

1. If I like it, it’s mine.
2. If it’s in my mouth, it’s mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.
5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I rip it to pieces and stuffing is everywhere, all the pieces AND the stuffing are mine.
7. If it looks just like mine, it is mine.
8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
9. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it’s broken, it’s yours.
11. If it’s broken, but you are having fun playing with the pieces, it’s mine again.
12. If there is ANY doubt, it’s mine.

And the one thing that really cements her place in our hearts and home is, if you say, “Show me your pearly whites.” she will lift her top lip and bare her little tiny teeth with a smile.  I think she is fundamentally  AWESOME

aMusing Mondays: Mrytle May (Homely and White)

I detailed my car for Hub’s birthday today. Technically, his bday is in three days.  I also bought myself two bright, hot pink shag seat covers with a matching steering wheel wrap- hubba, hubba.   I guess it’s been ….well, never since I’ve washed down the inside.  I have vacuumed the inside and washed the outside, but I’ve never bathed the interior..  And technically… I didn’t do the washing – the carwash did.  My SUV is a hard working, hard hauling 2004 vehicle that gets its oil changed about every 3000 miles and not a ding or scratch on her .  But for some reason I have never washed it down, until today.

On the surface it was bad, underneath it was so much more gosh awful worse.   Besides the regular car stuff- shoes (forgot they were there), socks (I always keep some in the car for cold feet), a lost military ID (big deal! That photo looked like a mug shot. All I needed were numbers under my chin to complete the look), scissors (to cut the seatbelt off in case of an accident; listen, everybody should keep scissors in their car. You never know when a deer will come flying through the windshield!), tape measure (to make sure whatever I find while junking will fit in the back), first aid kit (I haul kids, need I say more?), paper bags for puke (like I said, I haul kids and dogs on winding mountain roads)  hiking backpack (cause you just never know when that next cache is going to pop up),  canned goods and a can opener…(What? Don’t you keep food in your car in case you get stuck in the snow? I know it’s not winter yet, I just like to be prepared) and under tons of dog hair, wrappers of all kinds, and various papers was ucky gunk.  Yep, there it was. Ugh!  I remember why I don’t do this kinda’ stuff. Gross? Nope, nope I need stronger word!  Something like disgusting, offensive, awful, beastly, dirty, disagreeable, fierce, filthy, foul, grubby, hellish, icky, yea something like that. 

I grabbed the Simply Green to try and make a dent in all the dirt and gunk.  To my surprise it worked, and worked well! Gobs of sticky little balls were attached to the paper towels, gag! Even typing about it now, makes me want to grab one of those barf bags, I so lovingly carry for my passengers.  I thought for sure I was going to have to drive it into a lake for a good soakin’ before any of this stuff would turn loose.  The cleaner didn’t even leave a residue.   Everything was shining and my seats were now glowing in hot pink!  She was looking awesome.  Heck, I bought a Christmas chandelier ornament for our tree this year and hung it on the rear view mirror; but that was a little gaudy. What am I saying?  It was way to gaudy even for me.  It now hangs off the pull knob of my kitchen cabinet.  What? I like looking at shiny and blingy stuff.  And it is only going to hang there for… the next month and 10 days give or take a day or two. That is when my Christmas tree goes up.  Another month on the tree then into the box it goes until next year. Hmmmm or will it?  What a minute, I am off topic back to Myrtle Mae. 

 Myrtle Mae, as I have so lovingly called my homely white car for years, now looks like a big fat, girlie pink and white rocket flying down the road.   See shines so beautifully in the month of October.  It is a fitting tribute to cancer awareness month. I believe Myrtle Mae is in need of a new name, to reflect her shocking pink personality.   It’s like, she knows something is different.  She drives smoother, she has more pep, and she even dodges and weaves with the steering precision of a Fiat, around all the highway obstacles (dead critters, deer and elk).  I need new name ideas people, PLEASE.

Hub says he’s never riding anywhere else with me again (because of the pink seats- not because of the wonderful work I did for me on his almost birthday).  Daughter said she will ride in the back, hidden behind the anonymity of darkly tinted windows from now on.   I love my brightly colored, clean as a whistle, pink cotton candy SUV.

…OKAY, the guilt is getting to me.  I will detail Hub’s work truck tomorrow.  And knowing how much he absolutely loves my pink seats, I may leave him a little birthday present that he will absolutely fall into pink love with.  I will tell him it’s green. And unless someone tells him it is pink he’ll never know what the true color is… He’s colorblind!

Until next time,

Save the tata’s, yaw.  October is breast cancer awareness month  be a friend reach out and touch someone.

aMusing Mondays: Touch IT!!!

Update:  The other night, as I was changing shifts with my brother at the hospital, I thought I may never again hear my daddy say, “Happy Birthday, little girl.”, as he has for the past 50 plus, plus years.  But he surprised me yesterday.  He somehow managed to have enough strength to write.  Hap y B   gil.  It made me feel complete and broken hearted as the same time.  He is not able to open his eyes but he is still with us.  He can hear, understand and move his eyebrows.  The doctors say there is very little hope he will leave ICU.

On to the post: We had no rain for around 9 months which lead to the forest closure.  This story took place the first weekend that our forest reopened.

I had been waiting all summer to go hiking and do a little Geo Caching.  Hubs, daughter and I set out on a cache I had been eying for months.   As we rolled up, the GPS said the cache, “Rotten to the Core”, was to the left and straight up. Literally, like at a 110 degree angle. “No Way!” says Hubs. He points out the description said a gentle incline.  He insisted we turn around and go to a forest trail  entrance about a quarter of a mile back.  I thought, ‘This was going to take forever if we do it his way!’ And with that thought, I started complaining.

“This is not right.” I mumbled.

No one heard my skepticism, so… I said it LOUDER! Hubs kept on walking. Daughter had a slight look of doubt on her face but kept on walking too. We walked down a valley with the sound of thunder rolling on the mountain. We had great cloud coverage and a light sprinkle. The only good thing so far was the awesome day we picked for a treasure hunt.    We had walked about a quarter of the way in when it got a little eerie. The further we walked the darker and quieter it became. Bear poop was everywhere and the carcass of a half eaten elk was under a tree. EEEKKK.   Soon the only sound I heard was the sound of our own shoes on the forest floor, oh, and me still whining.

It felt like we walked for miles, until hub says, “I think this is it”. Sure enough, the clue for the cache was “next to a ghostly moss covered tree” and there it was.   Well I’ll be dang!  He was getting pretty good at this game and of course,  he loves it when he is right.   

We all head over to the discovery. Then I hear daughter start to complain of something biting her or maybe a plant poked her.

“Mom!” she says in a panic. ” Touch this plant and see if it pokes you.”

“NO! Are you crazy?” I asked her.


“D@m~ IT, Daughter!” I yelled. She started laughing uncontrollably. I think from relief that a snake had not bitten her or maybe it was the little OMG it hurts dance I was doing.  My hand started swelling up like a puffer fish. It was stinging so bad that I instinctively put it to my mouth to try to cool it down. Within seconds my tongue was on fire! I was scrambling for the first aid kit. Daughter and I had blisters all over our hands and they were getting bigger by the second. We were lost somewhere between sarcastic laughter and the reality of our pain, when I heard husband at the top of the hill asking what the hold up was.  I could not believe he asked that question.  I mean, he was watching the whole thing from above.  I felt a wave of furious envelope me and I preceded to yelled at him that we were stung.  But the words I heard coming out of my face were more like.

“Lee R tung!” My tongue was SWOLLEN! “Whaaa?” 

“Wha ist this tuff???” I beg in a panic to my husband.

“Stinging Nettles.” he says laughing from the top of the hill.

Upon hearing this, I lost all interest in yelling at Hubs, however, I did feel like reaching over and strangling the teen that stood before me, especially after she says, “Good, at least I was not bitten.” in the way that only a teen, who did not want to be there in the first place, could say it .  (again with the strangling)  I could not find anything in a First Aid kit for stings.   I did find a sterile wipe and Neosporin.  Daughter wiped off her hands and applied the medicine. It only helped enough to knock off the intense pain. I, on the other hand, had to wait until it wore off because neosporin is for topical use only. (I could have killed that kid) Before we knew what was happening, I start screaming “EEEEES, EEEES” and swatting like mad. BEES were every where. Not a swarm but enough to make me scream like a little girl. When I opened my eyes they were gone.

“Pobabe goin ta det the hibe!” I tell daughter.  

In my current state of pandemonium, I looked at my daughter and say as cool and as calm as I could, “Zets doe det da tedgger.”  I start up the hill with my hub’s and my backpack pulling a whining teenager by her shirt.  That was an extra 70 lb on a steep incline. Hub notices my discomfort but does nothing other than to tell me to drop the packs.  “NO!” I screeched with all the furiousness returning.  I reminded him the gun was in the pack and if that bear came back for his dinner we could be his dessert. I could just read it  now…”Geo Cachers killed by bear.  Their only protection in a pack AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL”  Here’s yer sign!

We finally made it up to the little treasure and put some bubbles and Neosporin back in for the next  victim player. As we start to leave, hubs says take a left. I head left.  Suddenly I was feeling all alone.   I looked up and found myself standing in the clearing all discombobulated, surrounded by bear poop and bones.  I then look behind me.  That is when I find Hubs and Daughter heading in the opposite direction.  With every step, they were laughing their heads off.  I gave one last look at my surroundings and for a brief moment imagined the  ‘EEES gone mad.”  returning.  I ran like crazy all the way back to the car.  EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKK!


I loved every MINUTE of it!!!  What a ‘tan tatic day’ Nettles and all.

Until next time, happy gaming everyone,