I have a a snippet of joy to share right now. One is that I am comfortably wearing a pair of pre-Lambchop jeans. I can wear some pre-Lambchop pants, but some still put pressure on the pancreas. Again, it's important to celebrate the milestones. In reality, I would love to celebrate this milestone with a blizzard, the greatest invention ever. Sigh. But I can't do that. Denial is a river of chocolate.
Lately, I have been wondering if my karma is out of whack. I try to be kind to others and do as I want others to do to me. Now, I realize you should do things because you want to, but occasionally it's important to do something because, well you just should. I love animals, but they are like kids. Translation-a ton of work. We used to foster dogs until my older dog began her precipitous decline (R.I.P Sasha). I was looking at the updates of a rescue group and a picture caught my eye. The write up said "Poor, old dog just wants somewhere to live out her last days." Apparently, she was in a foster group with multiple other dogs and not doing well. I thought that we could let this dog come stay with us to die. Like hospice for dogs. I wasn't concerned because our dog Atticus loves everyone, and I thought this would be an interesting life experience for the kids. It would be sad, but we would be helping the dog and learning something in the process.
I contact the group to inquire about this dog and whether she likes kids and animals. I am assured she likes animals and kids. "She is a very old couch potato and just needs to be somewhere else. If we can't find a new foster for her, we will have to put her down." What? I can't have that on my conscience. I realize I can't save them all but I've been so busy with work that I haven't had a chance to do something likes this. I fill out 18 pages of paperwork and the founder of the group does a house check. Thankfully, I wasn't wearing the forever lazy getup. The cat sits on his very expensive convertible import while he surveys our house. He approves us and I schedule to pick up Methuselah, I mean Maybelle. I'm envisioning that we will have to lift the dog off the back deck and pick her up to put her in the car. I meet a guy in a parking lot and with him is a very active, long legged hound dog. She is barking and standing up with her paws around his neck. Maybe he brought the wrong dog? I ask him if this is Maybelle. He says, "Yes, she's very old." Maybelle leaps in my car and jumps from the back seat to the passenger seat. The dog gets home and goes for a 5 mile run with my husband. Maybelle does have some grey hair, but I don't think it's time to start the funeral preparations. I'm not even sure if she is at retirement age yet. Oh well. The kids like her and I have explained that we are just fostering and want her to find a permanent retirement home....One thing about Maybelle though is that doesn't like to be alone.
Have I ever told you guys that I love a bargains? I try not to be into stuff but I buy myself a gift every now and then. For example, for Mother's Day a couple of years ago I brought myself a self feeding water dish. No, it's not that I am averse to drinking out of a cup, but I was tired of the dog drinking out of the toilet because the water would splash out of the bowl. Thus a large puddle of water would be in the laundry room and would cause me to think I was preparing for an Olympic Sport trying not to bust my butt because of said puddle. Is that too much info for everyone? I kept the lid down, but some other people in the house didn't. I'm not pointing fingers but you can figure out who they are. I realize it's not the typical gift most women ask for these days. Some want flowers, jewels, or expensive trips. I just wanted a self watering dog bowl. And I am still waiting for my electric blanket that was promised to me so I looked for one today at one of my fave stores ever.
I made a bi-annual vigil to a certain discount store. My husband always gets nervous because I come home with food with labels in languages we have to google. Hello! It's not like I'm bringing home food that says "Made in the USSR". I was too thrifty to purchase Nutella, so I purchased what I assume is a knock off brand. Kind of like when I buy Diet Dr. Peeper, which really sounds like a discount combo weight loss/optometry center. Who knew Poland was such a big producer of cappuccino? Yes, that is a child proof cover over the socket behind the counter. You just never know when I will feel wacky and decide to put a fork in the socket for kicks, so it's for my own safety.
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