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Posts Tagged ‘humor’

elsa tri-color

It has been almost four months since we adopted Elsa the Great, the little rescue dog who shivered and shook en route home and who is still frightened of strangers and strange noises or quick movements.

In spite of being a cowardly little girl dog, she exhibits signs of mighty-ness, especially when she succeeds in training her new caretakers.

Elsa has learned many things.

BEGGING WITH BIG EYES REAPS REWARDS

We vowed we would never feed her from the table.  Like most New Year’s resolutions, there are now infractions.  But Elsa’s on the chubby side so it’s mini dog treats (only 5 calories each) for her.  And we even break those in half.  But she’s still getting noticeably rounder.  Could it be the little extra bits we give her for being good, for being cute, for just being Elsa?

ELSA IS COOPERATIVE AND WILL COME WHEN CALLED  (IF THERE IS NO OTHER DISTRACTION)

It snowed one night and she loves to eat snow.

Else loves to eat period.

And if she is released into our little fenced yard (for business purposes), she will stroll around devouring snow and ignore all calls to “Hurry Up!”  “Do your business!”  “O.K.  COME!”

WHOOPIE!  LOOK AT MEEEEE!!!!

The sweetest moments are when she gets the “Zoomies.”  Evidently that is when a pup is extremely happy, excited and feeling just – well, WONDERFUL!

It happens when she comes in from a walk and is suddenly thrilled to know we are both on site, and again when we return from the outside world and she has been alone for even an hour, or even when she has had a long drink of water.

She literally tears around the house aiming for a collision with first Bill, then me then back and around the house again and again.  It is a grand show of enormous energy and leaves us laughing at each display of unbridled joy.

KEEP ‘EM WORKING!

elsa sheds

I am thinking of starting a new business selling pillow stuffing!

I never thought about it but Elsa has turned out to be a SHEDDER!  And I mean a MEGA-SHEDDER.

In a day or two I can see hairs floating before my eyes.  And she sheds multi colors since she is a tri-colored dog to begin with.  She’s a combination of black, white and beige/brown.  Take your pick!

Life with a mega shedder takes on a whole new meaning.  It means more exercise for me (good for Big Foot?) with more vacuuming and dusting and cleaning and brushing.

Elsa is now family.

We love her but

we are all still “in training.”

 

 

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elsa hiding head

Elsa Heard a Noise

Gun Shots, Backfires or Fireworks?

The end of 2018 began with popping noises in the distance.  Elsa-the-dog is terrified of popping noises like faraway fireworks.  We bought her a “Thundershirt” (meant to wrap around her tummy to create a sense of well being).  The problem is we don’t get to it (the shirt) in time.

I suppose hiding your head is a good alternative.

More Cookies?

I started a new tradition this New Year’s Eve to celebrate Year’s End and a new year’s beginning.  I baked whipped shortbread cookies.  My sweet Canadian friend, Cindy, gave me the recipe for truly melt in your mouth fabulous cookies and I intend to make them every year for New Year’s Eve.

As my dear old Dad was known to say, “Delicious if I do say so myself.”

cookies shortbread 2

Whipped Shortbread Cookies – Recipe by Cindy – Made by Dor

Old Traditions or Old People?

Every year we replay the tradition of getting together with old friends for:

celebratory drinks at our house,

followed by dinner out,

followed by a movie at our house,

followed by champagne to toast in the New Year.

We aim to finish up at midnight and sometimes we make it.  This year, not so much.  We were all dozing off by 10:30PM so made our toasts and called it a night.

Something’s wrong here.

End of a Year and The Downtown Lexington Fall of the Ball

lexington_balldroprelee5_sm

This year I hope to urge our friends to have a very late dinner with us in downtown Lexington, Virginia and then proceed to Main Street to hang out and watch the falling of our very own small town ball!

More and more people are doing that even though it only takes about 30 seconds for the shiny thing to fall.

Then maybe 100 balloons float down upon the crowd of maybe 100 folks who are just as ready to cheer and holler as all those revelers in Times Square.

 I am awake now and trying to adjust to the end of a full-of-surprises 2018.

Hope your “endings” were fun and your “beginnings” too.

And now wishing you a very Happy New Year!

 

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Egg Exploding

It might be a funny story for future generation giggles.

It was not funny yesterday.

I decided to make hard boiled eggs.

I decided to try another way to make them.

  • Step 1:

You bring them to a boil and

  • Step 2:

Immediately remove them from the heat and allow to stand precisely 17 minutes.

Yup.  I did Step 1.  I am good at following directions.

And then I left.

I think I thought I had 17 minutes to write thank you notes.

The bad thing is I missed Step 2 – the 17 minute-part where you take the eggs off the stove and allow them to stand.

It must have been about 37 minutes later when I heard a funny noise.   Elsa-the-dog was pacing and trying to tell me something was amiss, but I ignored her and told her everything would be allright.

I was busy concentrating you know – writing lovely thank you notes.  It couldn’t be 17 minutes already.  Could it?

Then there came another noise.

Only this time it was a thunderous BANG!  Like a very loud GUNSHOT in the kitchen!

Was someone being murdered INSIDE my house?

It is still gun hunting season here.

Was there someone actually firing a gun in my house?

I ran/hobbled to the kitchen in time to see – YES – it was an explosion all right –

AN EXPLOSION OF EGGS!

Have you ever seen an egg explode?

It was a first for me too.

Oddly enough, I become very calm and deliberate in a crisis.  If you discount the way I talk to myself and even give myself vocal instructions, you would surely admire my bravery in quickly turning the burner off.  I also thought to put Elsa in the back room to keep her from eating exploded eggs.

Note: There were no more eggs in the pot.  I think most of them were on the ceiling and the pot was burned black.

There was definitely egg on the ceiling,

egg on the floor,

egg across the stove top,

egg under the vent hood,

eggs on the walls,

bits of egg into the next room,

egg EVERYWHERE!

Bill helped me clean up, especially in the upper reaches (like egg on top of the refrigerator).

I am still finding egg or egg shells in unusual places.

Finally my friend Amy came over and under her eagle eye and a tightrope walker’s balance, the last remnants of eggs on the ceiling are gone.

The only thing left is

“egg on my face.”

If you are not familiar with this expression, here is what it means.

From “The Dictionary of Cliches” by James Rogers (Ballatine Books, New York, 1985): “to have egg on your face – To be embarrassed or chagrined at something one has done or the way one did it; to do something ineptly. The expression originated in the United States some 25 years ago, probably from the fact that someone eating an egg sloppily is likely to wind up with some of it on his face and therefore not looking his best. 

 

 

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pumpkin pie

Pumpkin Pie No Longer for Christmas?

It was Thanksgiving and of course there were lots of pumpkin pies available for the big feast’s dessert.

I love pumpkin pie and it doesn’t even have to be homemade.  Ready made and store bought can be just as good.

But Tnanksgiving came and went and suddenly it was Christmas.

I planned to cook a ham dinner for Bill and me and friends.

And Bill asked, “What shall we have for dessert?””

“Pumpkin pie!”, was my immediate answer. I know I can make one from scratch, but just to save a little more time and effort, I felt lazy enough to add,

“We can just pick up a pumpkin pie

at the local grocery store.”

  • And there was the rub!
  • Alas!
  • There were no pumpkin pies available.

No such thing at our favorite grocery store or any other store a week before Christmas or even days before Christmas.

I cannot even blame it on small-town country living since we have three major grocery stores close by.  Maybe our small-town population is always hungry and bought up all the pumpkin pies.

At any rate, we wound up

having Key Lime Pie for dessert.

Not exactly Christmas Fare in my mind.

Perhaps we are trend setters?

The Key Lime Pie was good and went well with ham.

But here is my question:

Is this a new trend whereby pumpkin pie is now only acceptable at Thanksgiiving?

And my second question is:

Why?

Christmas Ham

Christmas Ham Dinner Minus Pumpkin Pie

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ELSA Rear View

Elsa the little Dog, has been with us almost a month now.

She is learning to live in a strange environment, is eager to please, finds joy in having a home and hearth to call her own, and loves it that food is only as far away as the nearest human hand.

What more could a a little dog want?

Well, since you asked,says she,

 “I WANT THIS PLACE FOR MYSELF!

Elsa will bark to a deafening screech at strangers, cars, or unusual sounds.  She even barks at Bill as he emerges from another room.

She never barks at me however.  I am the Self Proclaimed Ruler of the Kingdom.

LET ME SLEEP PERCHANCE TO DREAM

Elsa sleeps quietly all night in her new Serta Mattress Bed for Dogs and she never leaves it until morning.

BUT she is territorial over that bed.  Don’t touch it, move it or try to sleep in it.  She is the gatekeeper.  Serta should hire Elsa for advertising purposes.

OMG THE FOOD HERE IS FIT FOR THE DOGSGODS – MORE PLEASE!

Elsa loves to eat.  We also trainbribe her with mini dog biscuits and we even heat her wet food to add flavor and aroma to her kibble.  Her appetite knows no limits.

AND LET ME RUN FREE

Bill decided to give Elsa a “ride in the car” as a treat but when he opened the door, she bolted.  What followed was a hunt for a little dog in a great big tourist resort (the Natural Bridge of Virginia).

Bill got lots of exercise chasing her up and down hills and finally, with the help of two State Park Lady Attendants, Elsa was seemingly happy to be retrieved.”

Stay tuned for more on Mighty Dog Wishes Fulfilled, by Elsa, the Little Dog Who Wanted to and Could.

 

 

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Big Feet SlippersThey say, “With age, comes shrinking”.

Gravity is the culprit and I am no exception.

I was once 5’ 4 ½”, but now measure 5’ 3” at the doctor’s office.  This explains why cabinets are higher now and the upper reaches can only be accessed by standing on tiptoe.

The truth is, I am now a shrinking woman.  This is not a huge surprise.

But did you know FEET are also affected by the creeping/creepy years

I have just learned a second truth about aging –

BIGGER FEET!

Because none of my regular shoes fit anymore (which I thought was because of the intermittent  swelling of BigFoot), I was recently fitted for new shoes.

Foot MeasurerThe measurements were taken the old fashioned way you know by an orthotics expert who used one of those metal things you stand on.

Out of curiosity I asked, “So, what size am I?”

And the answer was, “9 to 9 ½.”“WHAT?” I practically screamed. “I have always been a Size 7 ½ to 8!  Are my feet GROWING?  No, your feet are going flat.

Your arches are falling.”

This revelation required some serious mulling over.

No wonder all my shoes are too tight to put on!

The old feet are growing as the arches fall  – a ridiculous/obvious fact with annoying repercussions.

For one thing I have a nice shoe collection.

It does not compete with Imelda Marcos, but includes:

Dress shoes in different colors and heel heights, lace-up athletic shoes (even though I have not been athletic in many a year), sandals in different colors and styles, boots in all their iterations, and all the various sizes of Walmart Specials to help during the BigFoot-Boot-Cane-MRI years.

Should I throw them all out and start over?

And how much more will these feet grow?

Maybe the solution is to stay inside wearing slipper socks until the feet reach maximum growth!

Life is full of mysteries.

It is my sincere hope that these Notes from An Incredible Shrinking Woman with Big Feet will inspire you to buy shoes with “give”.  Although you may not know it, your feet are definitely growing.

 

 

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wandering-witch-off-course

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

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