CHECK! CHECK! CHECK!

All I have left to make for the MA crew is a fancy little birdhouse which I will create once back in the comfort of my own efficiently crafty home. We have been taking care of a coworkers three rude, disgusting dogs for the past three weeks from the discomfort of her inefficient not so crafty home so I am super excited about getting back. They should be landing around three o'clock this afternoon. Tick tock tick tock. After starting up the saw and ripping out the bird house, I am then going to turn on some music, make some coffee (or mulled cider?), start a nice little fire (in the fireplace, don't worry) and commence turning the boring wooden shell into a happy little home for our feathery friends. It's crunch time people. We leave for the Pearl on the 20th once I am done with work.

I brought a bunch of helpful items from home and ended up getting some things accomplished. One of which is the FISH MOBILE! Woohoo! It is complete and incredibly impressive. Also, some small pretty river rocks were glued onto five different frames and to finish them up, some very personal (not to mention artsy) pictures were placed in said frames. And then there is the matching scarf and hat set I am knitting for a coworker who is nothing but sweetness and light. I ran out of the fun decorative yarn and I am now on a mission to find more because I only have about 5 fucking inches left on the scarf. Ah me.

Once everything is done I will absolutely be taking pictures and putting images of my magnificence on here. Because that's how I do.

We have been keeping track of the weather up east. Okay, fine, Mr. F has, it would be breaking character for me to suddenly start planning and paying attention to things like small details which could affect me adversely. After many tortured looks and long drawn out talks about being snowed in, stuck on the side of the road, etc. due to taking a lowered car with low profile tires into an area where there continue to be massive snow storms, it's starting to look like we will be taking the stupid pick up. You know I am totally 100% against this but on the other hand I am not one to overlook intelligent reasoning damn it. I am going to start looking on CL for a huge rubbermaid container to put our stuff into since it's does things like rain and snow elsewhere in the country and we are taking the truck with limited packing room or an open bed. :F

What if Tat didn't want the tit to begin with?

I always like to figure out who keeps a close watch on what they say. I have found that those people are more often than not also watching what you say. Sometimes they are even keeping a running tally in their head (does a tally ever walk or even skip?). I could be saying this because I continue to have the "maybe it's time you cared to look a little closer at what you say to people and how you say it, so you won't be so prone to constantly coming across as offensive. I could brush this off with an oh so JH blithe "fuck you". But you know what? Believe it or not, I have taken a close look and I am totally 100% fine with my seemingly "abrasive" delivery. I find the way people obsessively lie to one another, in a pathetic attempt to stay in favor by what they perceive to be protecting each other from the blatant and often much needed truth, sickening and weak. If telling the truth and being upfront is offensive, than I am equally offended. I think it's time everyone took a good hard look at what they don't say to others while instead keep it all pent up inside to breed resentment and general distrust. So there.

Question of the week:

Are you ready to shave some angry pussy?

I must start at least trying to act like I am checking for clients who may be present before asking this question.

I would love to blog more but I am in the midst of a canine madness laden gift making frenzy. I am so driving the toaster to New England for Christmas. If Santa knew where it was at, he would rock a lowered sleigh.

This is going to be the best Christmas ever...

More later.

Just when you think you matter.

My brother forgot my mom's birthday. You know he'll be receiving a calendar and datebook for Christmas. Her birthday will be noted in the calendar. The last day of every month will have a reminder with how many days he has left until her next birthday along with that being thoughtful is an expectation that comes along with these kind of things. This will be opened in front of the family. Probably on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning.

Just when you thought you felt as bad as you could about one of the worst mistakes you have ever made, your little sister steps up to show you how incredibly wrong (not to mention optimistic) those silly thoughts were. Light on the caring, heavy on the guilt.

While searching for the perfect calendar I came across this perfect site. Love it.

Goings on will always be going on whether we like it or not

I once heard someone say that constantly imagining doing horrible things to people and then feeling good about it is pretty much the same as doing it. I can run with this up the point of no one has ever been sentenced due to thinking murderous thoughts.

I have a great many lessons surrounding me right at this very moment. It's like me and lessons are roommates. Not only that, I am the one that asked them to please feel free to move into the spare bedroom. Except the spare bedroom is now the weight room. So they just follow me around with all their baggage asking me why I like it so much when they visit and don't I have anything better to do.

Just thought I would unload in the short amount of time I have without sharing any details. :) I am now going to look up how to make a cherry pie that will impress the crowd when we celebrate Thanksgiving on FRIDAY.

Happy Turkey Day everyone. Drink as much as you can to celebrate the fact that the Indians (as in woo woo, not as in dot) helped us survive just so we could decimate them and everything they loved. If that's not something to be thankful for, all is lost.

Differences matter

Being employed brings about the silliest of problems doesn't it? I am not against my job. I love what I do. I am against working for someone else. This is something I am solving slowly but surely so I feel good about the next whine/rant that you have to put up with. :D

Shortly after I started working for NSVET I noticed my check wasn't what I thought it should be. I asked what they were charging and once I was told, there was no more confusion. It was more horror. I asked if we might bring the prices up and it was agreed that I would supply them with a menu of all my prices so I would be happier with the pay. Lucky smart little me all ready had a grooming "menu" from my previous places of employment which listed every breed and every service I provide, along with the prices. You'd think that would settle it right then and there no? I shot the menu on over via the web. The FDG's (front desk girls) thought the menu looked "crowded" and said it had to many breeds on it. Their solution? Free up some space by removing the breeds that don't frequent our facility. Unbeknownst to me that number was about half (maybe more) of the listed breeds. They showed me the new and "improved" menu and while I thought it was silly to take all those breeds off, figured they'd know what came through the doors more than I would. We're talking years of employments against months here. I said fine and everyone was happy. Then a Borzoi shows up. Hey JH, how much should we charge for a Borzoi? Isn't it on the menu? No no, we removed that breed because it never ever comes in.

I see.

This happened again. With another breed that never ever comes in. And I can't remember for the life of me what breed it was over. That's not the point though now is it? The point is that it happened again.

Interesting.

So the other day I am happily grooming my day away when one of the FDG's comes in. A client was out front and not happy with the pricing. The FDG's explained, to no avail, that the bath price was different with the grooming price and the client simply did not understand what they were saying. Not only that, they were insisting they speak directly to me. Not a problem fair ladies, let me get my spandex and cape and I'll be right out.

I am met by a man holding an Old English Sheepdog (love this dog, she's so cool) with one hand, and a cell phone with the other. He hands me the phone and tells me his wife would like to speak with me. Using other people's phones is kind of weird but okay, I'm in. Once I tell her who I am, she starts telling me she was quoted $40 for the bath and $60 for the grooming but now the FDG's are telling her $70 for the grooming. I tell her the price they are giving her is still low, but please go on. I'm willing to be patient with this woman. She's obviously a nice woman, but confused nonetheless, and clearly sick of dealing with snarky chicks that say the same thing over and over but word it differently every time all the while acting like she is the crazy/stupid one. Sister, I offer you strength (and a loaded gun, you know the right thing to do).

We were getting nowhere and she was starting to get impatient. As this is showing to be a frequent client of mine who isn't going to be a complete cunt whore bitch, I want to keep her. I tell her to please, start at the very beginning so I might unravel this web of lies once and for all. She complies.

She had come in with her Old English Sheepdog a while back asking for prices. The FDG's opened the menu to check for the correct estimate. There's that word again. I'm no fool. I list base prices. That way if your dog decides to freak out and act like a complete fucking psycho OR if I have to do a lot of dematting, I can easily raise the price and not get heat about lying about the total. Digression is a sneaky little fellow. So they open the menu and !GASP! Old English Sheepdog isn't on it. Because they removed it. Because it never ever comes in. They figure the next best option is to find a breed like it.

Before I continue, just in case you don't know, here is a picture of an Old English Sheepdog. I have no clue who the people are, but they are proving their weight in gold by being excellent size references. Ooo! And look at the pretty ribbons that crowd stopper has won them! My girl has a little less hair, but still, it's a lot of hair.


They find a dog who's breed ends in "sheepdog". Oh my! How lucky! That's what Old English Sheepdog ends in! That must be the perfect pick. Phew! That was close! Oh wait, do you smell that? That's what sarcasm and bitterness reek of.

The woman on the phone informs me that she doesn't even know what a Shetland Sheepdog is. And therein lies our confusion. The one breed group that you should never ever compare for pricing is the herding group. It seriously runs the whole spectrum in regards to things like hair type, size, temperament, etc.

Again, before we move on, just in case you also don't know what a Shetland Sheepdog is, I found a nicely taken photo of one for you. Again, the strangers are going to give you a size reference:


Can you see where there might be a teeny tiny issue when pricing out this dog as opposed to the other? Yeah. Me too.

After it's all said and done, I agree to groom the dog for $10 under the price because well, it wasn't her fault and she's there every month. It'll all work itself out through frequency. I then tell one of the FDG's that I would like the menu restored to it's original set up because it will stop the above from happening. She gives me that look. You know the one. Eyebrows raised, head to the side, lips pursed? The look that says they have been grievously (not to mention very personally) slighted and communication is at a standstill because it's not being discussed because she'd rather not talk to a complete fucking asshole. Oh yeah, and you're the asshole. If you're a guy, you know what I am talking about. If not, tell your GF you promise to do something and then just don't do it. Then try to sleep with her the same night you blew off the promise. That look. Although they might modify it by turning their eyes into slits instead of raising the brows. Depends on how much of an asshole they think you are.

Anyway, I think fuck this and go back to grooming. I know they just don't want to make another menu. Later I tell the boss I might have offended the FDG's and as much as I want to care to care about their emotional well being, I care more about them getting grooming details right. Money especially so we are going back to the original menu. He said to send it along so we could print it at Staples which just happens to be right next store.

All's well that ends well.

I guess the moral of the story is that even though you might think it's you, it's more likely them because you thought this through and have a viable solution. Oh yeah, and you're smarter.

No seriously, blogging is proving to be very therapeutic.

I might be crafty but it's not on the sly...

I started the fish mobile the other night and then came to the awful conclusion that I needed yet more fish of in between sizes to use as counterweights. After ordering even more fish, I took apart what work I had done. I absolutely refuse to build this mobile until I have all parts in my possession. This is an ongoing issue of mine. It breaks me to look at an unfinished project while waiting for the supplies that will finish it. As this shows some kind of organization, it doesn't bother me as much as it bothers other people who are waiting to see the finished product. You will play by my rules bitches!! and all that some such bunkum. The metal strips need to be bent. How do you bend metal perfectly? I'm still trying to figure this out. I know someone with a machine that bends metal but there is more to it than the bending you know?

All the fish are bad ass but the lamp work ones are a possible personal favorite. It's either them or the stone fish. When you consider that they allow the words "stone" and "fish" in the same sentence, you can see why I have labeled them "very cool". That and because they are indisputably very cool. I might need some more of the cloisonne fish. I only have 16 of the little guys. I don't know if that equals them needing friends or makes them the to cool for school fish being the only ones made of metal? They also drove before getting their license. They're kind of in a league of their own. It's not even like they need the back up.

You have no idea how many fish beads there are out there. Do a search, it's something. What I want to know is who pays $60 for a glass fish and what do they do with it? Discuss.

Ooo! My hummingbird feeder stoppers finally got here. In preparation I constructed a holder for the bottle out of beads. It's supposed to look like a flower with a yellow center, red petals and green leaves. I was a little bummed that it isn't dead center but once I thought about it, I like the idea so much I might have them all off center from now on. It's all about less chance of the dreaded drip my friends. I'm not all that happy with the overall finished product it to be honest. I just don't like how the design looks now that it's together. It looked way different in my head. I'm going to see if I can somehow make smaller flowers and have them all connect to one another and have that be the holder. You'll see it once it's done. As of right now I am ripping off ideas from my favorite catalog. They want me to pay over $1k for something I can make for under $10. If I can make it, they can suck it. That might be my new motto. Here's the unsatisfactory hummingbird feeder holder:

Also, just because I think this ended up better than expected... I'll leave you with my latest piece of jewelry. It's going into one of the Christmas presents and I am banking on a certain someone not reading this blog...

FOOD FIGHT!!

I got sick of looking into an empty cold box and went food shopping. The fridge has to be mighty empty for me to even admit I need to go to the grocery store. I loathe the grocery store. The carts, the gathering of food stuff, the people everywhere not even trying to cooperate with each other. Oh give me strength. So yeah, it was "that time" and I sucked it up and headed in the correct direction. If I am forced to go grocery shopping, I need some kind of inspiration. I live for stuffed peppers. I like making them and I especially like eating them. Once, while getting the items to make them, I mistakenly grabbed a package of ground lamb and later that night, found nirvana.

Here's the recipe I have been using of late: Stuffed Pepper Goodness. I tweak it here and there, like mixing some of the ketchup mixture throughout the meaty middle mixture, adding more garlic than called for and using anything but green bell peppers. Red is tough to keep standing but heavenly. Yellow is just as great.

As I am not about to face the throngs of people without some kind of backup, I always insist Mr. F goes along. He helps break up the bitter and hatred that wells inside of me, threatening to unleash itself on some poor unsuspecting soul. Why am I always under control when joined by another person, but totally out of control when alone? Discuss.

We went searching for those new Eggo waffles. The ones you see on TV as of late with the fruity center or whatnot. F those look great. I was looking for them in the frozen isle without luck and decided to go with some every day regular Eggo waffles. Let's face it, frozen waffles rule. The whole grain seemed appropriate and they had every flavor but strawberry. Prattling to myself about not being able to find whole grain strawberry waffles prompted Mr. F to leave feedback about strawberry and whole grains not being able to get along.

I now have this strange little comic running nonstop through my head. There are many different renditions but the theme stays the same: Strawberry and Whole Grain want to settle their differences once and for all. Strawberry feeds little Strawberry lunch and packs him into his car seat and heads over to Whole Grain's house where Whole Grain has since fed little Whole Grain his lunch and puts on the coffee. Once everyone is welcomed in and coats have been hung up, little Strawberry and little Whole Grain are sent to the playroom to play while Strawberry and Whole Grain see if old grudges can finally be put to rest and compromises can be made. Essentially they are looking for a win/win solution. Trouble is, no matter how hard they try (and believe me, they give it their best, I mean 100% effort because they are great kids) little Strawberry and little Whole Grain simply cannot get along. Some people/personalities just don't mesh you know? No matter how differently they go about it, they clash time and again making it all of impossible for Whole Grain and Strawberry to have the much needed discussion that will finally make things right.

I wish Strawberry and Whole Grains would just see the fucking light. Or hire a baby sitter. Or let the little foods play by themselves where they can be supervised. Or fist fight it out and see who the better food really is manfood style. But alas, that never happens. I'm not going to feel bad for them though, no way. I feel bad for those two good little foods, to young to understand the big picture, trapped in a room together to tough out what was never their problem to begin with, yet putting their all into an impossible scenario just to hopefully stay out of trouble. Ah me.

On a far more lucid note but still pertaining to food, I finished my first beadwork hummingbird feeder holder. I don't like it as much as I thought I would but it's still pretty neat. All I have to do now is take pictures and show you. You know how it goes.

I put the birdseed on, just in case you decide to stay a while.

I found birdseed that is tons cheaper than the kind I have been getting. At first I was slightly leery as the seed looked, well, cheaper. Once opened it proved to be loaded down with a ton of little bugs. Looks like the birdseed is moving loaded down. Ends up, birds don't care what their seeds look like AND they eat bugs. The most exciting part of all, is that this mixture draws in not only the smaller species but now the larger guys are showing up as well. Just recently, Red winged blackbirds have been amidst the frenzy. Lots of them. They're a lovely sound to wake up to in the morning.

I found this bad ass site and sometimes I sit outside and play different songs just to see who I can get going. The hummers are the easiest to rile up since they are so territorial. They'll come right down and investigate my laptop to see where the ass is that needs kicking. I wish I could find a Lucifer Hummingbird challenge so as to taunt the guy out front.

If you can't say anything smart, don't say anything at all.

I have a whole slew of things that make my brain go nut-so (pet peeves so to speak) but two keep cropping up recently and I do believe this is the place to unload the resentment.

When a white person discriminates a black person, it's called? Correct. Racism. When a black person discriminates a white person, it's called? Come on, you can do it. RACISM. Oh my FUCK, what is this "reverse racism" bullshit??? Reverse racism would be the opposite of racism. Due to the reversal aspect of it all. Here... Webster is going to give us a hand:

rac⋅ism   [rey-siz-uhm]

noun

1. a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others.

2. a policy, system of government, etc., based upon or fostering such a doctrine; discrimination.

3. hatred or intolerance of another race or other races.

Okay, here's where it gets tricky. For morons. Focus should be on the word opposite...

re⋅verse   [ri-vurs]

adjective, noun, verb

1. opposite or contrary in position, direction, order, or character: an impression reverse to what was intended; in reverse sequence.
2. acting in a manner opposite or contrary to that which is usual, as an appliance or apparatus.

So "reverse racism" would mean everyone was getting along, regardless of creed and color. Two negatives equal a positive and all that? Can I get a hell yeah? Now, can I get a reverse hell yeah?

The second bothersome issue comes up at work quite often. Clients constantly say, "The total is what? That's not the amount the estimate said!" I'm not even taking Webster up on this one...

First off, the estimate never actually said anything, but as this is a mistake I am sometimes prone to, I'm going to leave it alone. Secondly, hello? Those two sentences combined make me want to start slapping. Trouble is, I know once I start, I won't be able to stop. An estimate is an approximate, not an absolute. It's to help you get an idea of what the final price will be. The total is the absolute accrued amount tallied up once all work has been completed. To think for one second, the estimate is going to be the exact same as the end total, is ridiculous.

The prophet continues to remind me I am stuck here on Planet Moron and there is nothing I can do about it so I might as well get used to it. Were it not for this sage advice, make no mistake, I would be under heavy surveillance due to my "unpredictable" violent outbursts.

Well, I certainly feel better.

AH HA!!

There I was l*a*m*e*n*t*i*n*g my inability to find hummingbird feeder replacement tubes for under $30. Not just any old tubes. No no, we're talking the ones that have the ball bearing in the tip so they don't drip dry in half a day. I'm searching and searching just to come up empty handed over and over again except for this one monopolizing site that has six for $30. SIX! I was just about to drop the cash and remind myself that it is in fact for a Christmas gift so it's not as if I am haphazardly going all spendy like when I had a ZAP POW WHAM. Stainless steel ball bearing. Stainless steel? No, keep trying. Ball bearing? Like in a hamster water bottle? I might even give the hamster bottle tubes a try. You never know. But yes, we are talking same stainless steel ball bearings you can find any and every fucking hardware store on the map. Not to mention they come in about a zillion different sizes. Thirty bucks my ass. I'm trying this little gem of an idea out. You know it's going to work. I am also going to look for the items needed to make a feeder tube. Maybe I can whip up my own for half the price. I'm betting. I might even go so far as to use some memory wire and make my own "red replacement flower cap" for my non drippy feeder. Try and stop me. I dare you. I double dog dare you. This confidence has a lot to do with the memory wire. When I use it, I feel invincible. Make something out of memory wire. You'll see.



After thought: This little tidbit might come in handy for everyone else fighting the dreaded feeder drip.

And all the mackerels said, "Holy human!"

With how much I freak out over my dogs, it's no wonder I don't have any kids. (Funny, that just offered the mental image of me surrounded by baby goats.) That might sound like a joke, but it's far from it. It would pop out and I would immediately go over the deep end due to an overload of worried thoughts pertaining to what might possibly be someday in the future. Just thinking about thinking about those thoughts made my heart rate go up. Clammy palms are decidedly not hot.

Tabitha has a cough. You know that intense sharp wheezing a dog makes when it is dragging on the leash and it's collar is super tight against the throat, cutting off the windpipes? It sounds exactly like that. Without the deep throaty gag cough at the end. Just the quick intense raspy breaths. Like she's breathing out a little to hard. Only thing is, she rarely has anything around her neck and when she is wearing a collar/leash she never pulls hard. It happens more frequently in the morning, when she gets all worked up and excited and after a good hard play session. Sometimes it is followed by vomiting. Often times she immediately eats any food that comes up, so I'm not worried about her going hungry or anything like that. Just thought I would throw that in there. Visuals rule. Oh, also, please don't assume this is an inverted sneeze. It's not. Promise.

So yeah, of course I mention this to the vet I work for. We take x-rays of her chest. Since the chick taking them (think Jim and mohawk man rabble rouser) didn't do a very good job, they weren't all that conclusive. The vet sat and stared at these crappy exposures for about 30 minutes while enjoying his sesame seed pretzel sticks and then told me it's a possibility she has bronchial asthma. I would like to mention, before the x-ray ever took place, I answered "no, nothing is different except the strangled breaths" to if she had bouts of coughing, was she losing her appetite, has she had any change in her energy level and did she miss any heart worm preventatives. Then, I was told she should be treated for bronchial asthma with either antihistamines, steroids or bronchodilators or depending on how severe her condition is, all three. It was also suggested that were we to start treatment, and the cough went away, then we'd know what the problem was anyway. Am I the only one against this kind of thinking? Because it's starting to feel that way. Since when did treating the supposed illness, with medication that might be right, in hopes to remedy the problem we can't solve become the answer?

Of course I went home and as the client from hell does, researched all the offered treatments. Of course, with this new information under my belt, I don't want any of them applied. Seriously, go look them up. Creepy. I'm not into side effects. Of course I found the natural remedy of boosting her immune system and liked that better. So now I am going to start her on a natural immune boosting, airway opening treatment called AmazaPet. During my search for side affect free healing I also stumbled upon this Chinese herbal blend which aids in pain relief. I am going to start Jim on that one and see if it helps with his old dog pain issues. I don't even know why I ask the vet anything. Every time I do, it further reminds me that, for the most part, western medicine is shit. The last time I asked for help, was in regards to Tabitha's limp. Her foot was accidently smashed with Mr. F's foot during a romp session. We were told to keep her off it and offered sedatives and Rymadil when I scoffed at the notion of keeping an active puppy still for any length of time. No matter how much time we kept her off it, the limp never got better. I was unwilling to administer sedatives for obvious reasons. Have you seen the side affects of Rymadil which btw, just makes the dog unaware of the pain. A dog that is unaware of the pain, is a dog bound for even more pain. I asked if giving her Jim's glucosamine supplement might aid in swifter healing time and I was told that glucosamine has not been proven to work and would do nothing to help heal ligaments or tendons and I was again offered the pain reliever, Rymadil. I see. I reminded myself that this was also said about Jim's back pain and after ignoring their words and administering the "useless" glucosamine supplement, saw rapid improvement. As in one week later, able to jump onto things without yelping in pain, able to get into the car without assistance, able to go on walks without pain the next day improvements. Of course I started Tabitha on the supplement. Of course she was better in about a week. There has been no sign of a limp since. And all without the aid of Rymadil or sedatives. Go nature.

I guess I'll be willing to dump a bunch of white man poison into her if all natural concoctions fail. But I doubt they will. You know, I don't even blame the vets. I blame the idiot clients who put anything into their dog without ever considering what it might be or what it might cause. Shit, half the dogs I see need nothing more than a better diet. But here are all these people loading their dogs up with expensive chemicals that do nothing but mask the issue for the time being and create all types of other issues to deal with. But don't worry, there is always another pill to deal with the side affects of the last pill. Ignorance is bliss. Unless you're the dog dealing with an illness that is never actually cured. Gross.

Just in case you haven't been whipped into the frenzy I am now afflicted with, check out Shirley's Wellness Cafe. That should get you well on your way to Hysteria Land. If once there you run into problems getting around, just give me a shout. I have all the streets memorized.

Masterpieces are created by...

why, masters of course!

I have been constructing Mr. F's blog. Check it out!

Oh, just a little FYI: The backyard mentioned is ours. So I might not have posted the pictures on this here blog, but I did in fact post them. That means I am back to liarless status.

I would really enjoy patting myself on the back just one more time so I'll show you the business card I also designed for him. Aren't I the best ever? Yes. Yes I am. If there is ever any doubt, just ask me, I'll tell you.

Guess what I just typed?

Let me show you:

R

r

F

f

$

4

Yes, that's right, the JH is back in business without the aid of wireless technology. Please, make no mistake, I am fully impressed with any type of wireless technology. When we hang out I find myself asking questions like: You like me as much as I like you don't you? Or, Do you affectionately think of me in your future as I do you? And of course wireless technology always answers me with a silent affirmative and continues to assure my security with it's unwavering commitment and dedication. So.

It is said bad things come in threes. Well sometimes super things come in threes. And if you are morbid enough to count the bad things that happen to you and then relate them to some corny superstitious phrase, everything bad should happen to you in threes. You were asking for it. As for me? I wasn't. I was simply smart enough to order the correct fucking keyboard this time.

Life has been happening at a very rapid pace. I won't be held responsible for my lack of blogging.

I have begun my first Christmas gift. It's awesome. As the recipient knows all about it, I will share the drawn figure here. I am still waiting for all the fish to arrive in my mail box. Then it's show time. Waiting is excruciating and checking the mail has become an obsession. Or should I say another obsession? The ones that have rewarded me for my new all consuming passion are beyond excellent. What's the word that means better than anything ever?? That's the word I am looking for.

A kinetic energy fish mobile you say? How exciting and unique!!

You'll wear it and you'll like it.

The dog two doors down started getting downright aggressive towards Tabitha the other night in the parking lot. I don't blame the dog. Lot's of change, little understanding, don't care, not my dog, and person isn't worth the effort. Tab decided the best POA was to throw herself onto her back in a state of please don't hurt me I love you so much even you won't be able to stand it. Which was fine (preferable even). Once bitch face was pulled off, Tabitha stayed on her back and continued her frenzied rolling. It must have felt terrific. I am going to point out how little it rains here. That means the ground is fucking gross. Grosser than usual (for me). All her white became a very dark gray. This all amounted to bath time. I'm a huge fan of Wahl products so I went ahead and ordered two gallons of their Absolute Purple/Whitening shampoo. I use whitening shampoo on every color dog except black. It brings out any highlights the fur might have making me a genius. This shampoo is seriously lacking and it's bumming me out. You need a ton to really get the hair clean and it doesn't leave the coat brilliant. It ends up just mediocre. So, a warning. Absolute Purple blows ass. I wonder what I will try next?

I don't know what is up with me and HA, double L, O, W, double E, N. Some years I am so into it. Carving pumpkins, dressing up... Other years, like this year, not so much. We have made October 31 Tabitha's birthday because it's dead close and no one can prove us wrong. Jim's was decided to be November 1. How weird is that? I wonder if I should simply embrace all this, dress them up and go trick or treating with them? How fun would it be to BOOOO every time someone gave them chocolate?

You're welcome.

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The Feds do it a little bit different but I've never had them, like, break into my house while I was there.

There hasn't been much happening in the world of the JH. We went up to Flagstaff this weekend and hung out with some people I could have lived with never meeting, as they reminded me just how disappointing people can be. We also went into the wilderness which consisted of romping the truck through the woods, going for some short hikes with the dogs, stopping to check out one of the many creepy chain link, wire trip, traps. They were laced with hay and large enough to fit a cow (still not sure what they were there for). Of course, these were the moments I cherished. I foolishly proceeded to mention the unfolded laundry still on the bed. That got us home in time to fold and provide our minds with some brain crack TV before slumber. Like I said, not much going on.

Although... I am going to make everyone's Christmas gifts this year. Why the hell not? I'm not certain I should disclose any details because it's a mystery who is reading this. I will say my ideas are 100% bad ass. I would also love to meet the person who has the balls to a.) say they don't like the gift you made them with your bare hands and b.) refuse to display said gift. So it really doesn't matter who likes what now does it? Manners and Etiquette are bullies that cannot be stopped. Ignoring this advantage is foolish.

Mr. F's brother came over and while he and Tabitha exchanged pleasantries on the swing, she was rude enough to rip his necklace in half. Maybe she was thinking of me and thought a little project might help? Who knows. He should know better than to hand me anything. He had another necklace give out and I promised him I would not only fix it, but make it even better than before. I did, but it took about three months. I just couldn't think of a fabulous way to put it together. Not to be mediocre, I sat on it while waiting for inspiration. Then I had a very disturbing dream. It started with me sitting on the the couch making his necklace. I woke up all freaked out but once I had calmed down I remembered my sleepy brilliance and commenced making the new superior adornment.

Promises, promises...

I have a little time, and a little patience not to mention all my tasks for today are done. I had to hold off on filling the bird feeder because Mr. F just laid down some grass seed and doesn't want the flocks finishing off the seed and then heading for the yard. Which is what they did last time. So. I did fill the hummingbird feeders. The other day I was giving all the dusty indoor plants a cleansing shower when a little hummer conducted a thorough inspection of who I was, flew to the empty feeder, drank nothing and proceeded to fly in front of me and yell his disapproval. I don't understand hummer speak but if you were there you would have come to the same conclusion. Sugar water was measured and put into the feeders. I swear the little guy defending the grapefruit tree is the same one from last year... I am also going to go ahead and say he's a Lucifer Hummingbird.

Being home isn't so bad at all. The trip helped me chill out and prioritize so I am now as calm as the JH gets (which isn't saying all that much but still). Having KY on the To Do list helps immensely. Being back to work is a nice time filler. Which reminds me of a I'm back to work story.

One of my repeat clients went and got herself another dog. We'll call her M. M was adopted from a puppy mill rescue so of course everyone thinks she is far more special than all the other dogs. I say she is just a little more lucky. The dogs were checked in and I was alerted to the fact that the newest dog has only three feet. It was mentioned due to one of the techs making a comment about halloween and that finding a costume should be easy and she should go as a pirate. Pretty funny. The next thing you know, the same chick that got Jim into a scrap with mohawk man, comes into the grooming room and tells me M has only three feet. I said okay. She goes on to tell me not to worry because it's an old wound (everyone assumes from the puppy mill days). I say okay again but I am wondering where this is going and why she is still on high alert. She then goes on to say that she is only telling me because she doesn't want me to panic, feel guilty or think I did anything wrong. I stop, look up and wait for the laughter. I'm totally into jokes on poor workmanship, even if it's directed toward me, let's face it, they're funny. To my dismay, there is no laughter. She's serious. I tell her how relieved I am as I was looking everywhere for it and worried it had gone down the drain during M's bath. The tech assures me that's not the case and takes off. Give me fucking strength. First, it's not just a missing foot. We're talking gone from the last joint. The beginning of the hock, if you will. Can you imagine? How the hell could I (could anyone) cut through joint, possibly bone, while giving a bath. Second, let's say I did a little prep work. Just for the sake of argument. Let's say I took my hair scissors and did in fact lodge them in the bone. The blood paired with the screaming (and super aggressive behavior that arises from carnivores when they are attacked by another creature and can't get away) would, I'm assuming, be pretty noticeable, don't you think? I'm not saying my scissors aren't incredibly sharp, but they certainly couldn't slice through a bone like it was butter. I'm not sure where to go with this but it further confirms I need to do my own thing.

As previously mentioned, the giant sequoias were as massive as you would think. Not much different than the redwoods but enough to notice. Slightly shorter, fatter and they are less uniform. I did see some little guys that would have made the perfect Christmas trees. It's all about perspective. Some people see beauty, I see unfinished furniture. I digress.

Here are the rest of the pictures. They are from the Northern Unit of the Sequoia National Forest to home. We thought about spending another day checking out the Southern Unit but we were done. Wouldn't it just be more super big trees? Doesn't having a couple free days to ourselves before life takes back over sound grand?

As not to leave you hanging...

I am so satisfied over being home that I continue to blow off blogging the final entry regarding the trip. I am puttering about the house unpacking and just generally enjoying things like the couch, friends stopping by and the likes. I had forgotten how incredibly comfortable our bed was. I mean, I remembered while away but I kept myself from dwelling on it for to long as I absolutely refuse to pine for an inanimate object. Man oh man, it's nice to wake up in that big old comfy bed. It is also the perfect time to get home. I'm not usually on top of my game when it comes to things like good planning and due to that I am enjoying it even more. The windows and doors have been thrown open and it's simply untouchable out there...

While I enjoy being home without responsibility you'll have to sit tight until I am ready to put some time into the last blog. I can type again so it might be a nice long one. You can never tell with me. Though I assure you the last leg of the trip will be here shortly.

I'll leave you with these pictures. Needless to say the sequoia trees were astoundingly huge and worth taking a peek at...

Even larger trees? Get out.

The Scion is acting up big time. What was supposed to be a nice leisurely picture taking ride through the beautiful Yosemite landscape turned into a moving mechanical serenity shattering whine controlled by overly concerned people. Blech. My head was acting up big time to boot so there was Mr. F dealing with sick me and the not so cooperative and super loud xB. Today the B stands for "bullshit". Speaking of which, after stopping in Yosemite Village and listening to the local mechanics talk like a pack of yahoos... Example: I think that metal grinding on metal whining screaming noise is most likely your vacuum hose leaking... No wait, it's your AC, just turn it off and you should be fine. Air doesn't grind people. The AC hadn't been used in days. Step away from the Scion. We decided to chance the 90 mile drive through the woods to Fresno where there is a Toyota dealership. As much as I am not into paying dealership prices I am equally against handing my vehicle to "professionals" who proceed to look at it like it's an alien spaceship. It's unsettling.

So I ended up getting some neat pictures from the moving car. I have no regrets because after a bit we realized no matter how many pictures we took, Yosemite is a place you must go yourself in order to truly appreciate the awesomeness. And I'm not just saying that. The massive sheer rock faces are far to large and breathtaking to justify with a picture. Also, one of the towns had a rockslide large enough for the need to evacuate. This meant there were people everywhere. None of this is my idea of a good time. Besides, I all ready had a headache. Ha. As for what's coming up, I am very much hoping they can fix the little bitty in enough time for us to check out the Sequoia National Forest. Speaking of which, we stopped for a break and drink and I ended up purchsing a tiny Sequoia tree. I am planning on planting it in KY once it is old enough to brave the winters alone. In about 100 years, someone will have the largest tree in KY in their backyard.

The California coast was everything I wanted and more. The rock cliffs met by the powerful smashing ocean. Clam chowder that rocked my world. Cute little beach towns with fabulous little shops. I am now the proud owner of a keychain kite that flies like a dream and rolls back up to fit in it's little zippered case. Small enough to be inexpensive but large enough to enjoy. Perfection. The road to all of these places were sharp, winding, lacking a guardrail and on the edge of sheer cliffs that dropped from the edge at a 90 degree angle into the ocean, onto the beach or down into the trees below. Mr. F drove and enjoyed every single drop in the road leading to a hairpin turn. Not that I am unable to take the corners like a race car driver, I would just rather take pictures and say when to stop quite frankly.

But every good thing must come to an end, and thusly we entered San Fransisco. The Golden Gate Bridge is now a part of my picture collection and I am proud to say so. It was the rest of the city that threw me. I mean, the entire city is built on huge hills. Earthquake? The houses are super fun colors and the people are not. We stayed long enough to drive up and down those massive hills (with stop signs on the top and bottom of each and every one), see the (Rice a Roni) trolley, and my personal favorite (not to mention one of the only reasons I wanted to go) driving down Lombard Street, the most crooked street in the world. It usually has more flowers along it and getting a good shot of it is near impossible unless you are airborn but it was totally worth it. I would live on Lombard Street. Once done with the city stink and hysteria we blew town. Though not before driving in front of a trolley on one of those very verticle hills and having tourists flood in front of us while the trolly came ding ding dinging it's way up to us threatening to hit us (stopping is not possible for a trolly in that circumstance) while we attempted to get the people we were busy threatening to hit out of the way. That was the last straw and off we went... With this experience under our belt, we decided to skip LA. I doubt very much I am missing anything at all. When you remove the famous people and shops I won't be spending money in, what is left? Whores, pimps, crack and of course the natural sort of grime you would expect in any busy city. If I wanted that, couldn't I simply go home and see my friends in Boston?

So here it is. The next slideshow. As you can see I was affected by the fog which crawls over the land every evening like a wet live thing, consuming all color and visibility in it's path and replaces everything with chill and deer. The next morning it retreats from the army of the sun, back to the ocean where it waits far beyond the shore for the dusk to welcome it back.

Poor deer...

Here we are in Point Arena, CA. We ran over a deer last night. It was something. Don't misunderstand. We didn't hit the deer, we simply it over and further crushed the just fallen still warm body. I noticed his buddy crossing in oncoming headlights so I was watching the bushes and side road while Mr. F tried to avoid being blinded by high beams and stay on the road. The lifeless body was stretched across the lane just as we crested the hill. There was no avoiding it. Had it not been warm and squishy, the Scion never would have cleared it. We were both pleasantly surprised to see there was no body damage. Note to self, taking a lowered vehicle on a road trip might not be the best of ideas. I am comforting myself by knowing that were it not dead, it is now. I guess it made disgusting crunching noises as the bones broke. My brain is a comforting brain and made sure to talk loudly while the Scion rolled over the carcass. Thank you brain.

The drivers out here suck big time. Especially when it's dark and foggy and the road is thick with cute little Bambis. You'd think every car was racing to the hospital so the woman inside who was giving birth didn't have to have her baby in a ditch surrounded by wild deer. These roads are full of hairpin turns (and deer) so the last thing you want is someone kissing your bumper. They tailgate so close, you'd think you were towing them. However, once you reach the passing lane, they just stay on your ass. Mr. F has solved this issue by simply slamming on the brakes once we get to the passing lane. It shouldn't be funny. I know. But it is. It so is.

Here are the latest. Enjoy.





You can see him waaaaay at the end of this fallen tree...

Size matters...

We started the day with a little hike in Langlois Oregon through the woods on Blacklock Point Trail out to where it met the coast. Totally worth it. The woods were soaking and very rain foresty. I searched all over, but didn't turn up any Hobbits. Sorry. I don't know why the pictures all came out so hazy but I am guessing auto focus paired with the fog wasn't the best of matches... I didn't realize how much I miss the ocean. :F

We then went on to Woof's Dog Bakery located at Gold Beach as they have a nice little self service dog wash station and, as it turns out, great dog gear. Jimmy and Tabitha are now sporting new sweatshirts. We almost scored some sweet reflective waterproof fleece lined jackets but they didn't have Jim's size so everyone went without.

We shot down the coast toward the Redwood National & State Park. Just wow. It was getting late so I got limited pictures but you can see the massive size of these trees. Just wow. Don't you worry, more are coming.

Highway 101 Oregon

This is my favorite picture of us so far (click on pic to make larger).


Cliff close up


Comparison. Those tiny white specks are big rigs (again, click pic).



Play time!!



Old school



The coast!!


Ocean spray



See the little gnome?



Heceta Head Lighthouse



Slow and steady, wins the picture