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!!