There is a fashion trend over the last year that has gained huge momentum. It involves having a dyed feather beaded into your hair. Although it's popular among women, Stephen Tyler was sporting a few on American Idol.
Last week, I saw a woman in her late 60's with not only feathers, but jewels and tinsel as well. A little hair accessorizing goes a long way. My thought was how ridiculous she looked - like a fishing lure gone wrong.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Just Like The Big Dogs Do
For my 40th birthday, I received a homemade card with a beautiful illustration of a chocolate lab from Girl. Our 14-year old chocolate lab died several years before, and everyone in my family was ready for another dog - except me. My fate was pretty much sealed.
Husband adores big dogs and males are typically bigger than females, so that's what he wanted. Girl and Boy wanted a puppy instead of an older dog. When we went to look at a litter, everyone was set on one of the two puppies in particular - the hyper, assertive pup that bowled Boy over and untied my shoelaces with his needle teeth. I'm no dog whisperer but an outgoing, confident pup quickly turns into a ninety-pound, leg-humping maniac.
I asserted that since this was my gift, I would have the final decision. I chose the other puppy that was friendly but a little quieter, with beautiful dark brown fur. I worried about having a male dog for several reasons - I was afraid of a male dog picking fights with other dogs and the constant marking on bushes and trees seemed like a total drag. I needn't have worried, though; Puppy had the sweetest nature without an aggressive bone in his body.
We have trained our dogs to pee and poop in one area of the backyard. It was a brilliant stroke on my part; it keeps the lawn nice and there are no bombs in the grass the step on. Once trained, however, Puppy would only potty there. We'd come back from a walk and he'd race to the side of the house to relieve himself.
We enrolled him into a puppy class for socialization and to learn basic obedience skills. From there, we progressed to an intermediate class that focused on heeling, sit and down stay and good manners. I asked the instructor why it was that Puppy had a 'shy' bladder and would only go at home. She said that dogs pee on things to mark their territory, and explained that Puppy was afraid to stake claim in someone else's area - just in case the dog was waiting around the corner to jump him. It took a year before Puppy would pee during walk. He'd cautiously squat and make a quick pee if he really, really had to go. As he got more confident, he would even poop.
Next month, Puppy will be three-years old. This whole time he's squatted to pee, like a girl dog - until today. Puppy lifted his back leg to pee just like the big dogs do - even though he was a little wobbily trying to balance on three legs.
Husband adores big dogs and males are typically bigger than females, so that's what he wanted. Girl and Boy wanted a puppy instead of an older dog. When we went to look at a litter, everyone was set on one of the two puppies in particular - the hyper, assertive pup that bowled Boy over and untied my shoelaces with his needle teeth. I'm no dog whisperer but an outgoing, confident pup quickly turns into a ninety-pound, leg-humping maniac.
I asserted that since this was my gift, I would have the final decision. I chose the other puppy that was friendly but a little quieter, with beautiful dark brown fur. I worried about having a male dog for several reasons - I was afraid of a male dog picking fights with other dogs and the constant marking on bushes and trees seemed like a total drag. I needn't have worried, though; Puppy had the sweetest nature without an aggressive bone in his body.
We have trained our dogs to pee and poop in one area of the backyard. It was a brilliant stroke on my part; it keeps the lawn nice and there are no bombs in the grass the step on. Once trained, however, Puppy would only potty there. We'd come back from a walk and he'd race to the side of the house to relieve himself.
We enrolled him into a puppy class for socialization and to learn basic obedience skills. From there, we progressed to an intermediate class that focused on heeling, sit and down stay and good manners. I asked the instructor why it was that Puppy had a 'shy' bladder and would only go at home. She said that dogs pee on things to mark their territory, and explained that Puppy was afraid to stake claim in someone else's area - just in case the dog was waiting around the corner to jump him. It took a year before Puppy would pee during walk. He'd cautiously squat and make a quick pee if he really, really had to go. As he got more confident, he would even poop.
Next month, Puppy will be three-years old. This whole time he's squatted to pee, like a girl dog - until today. Puppy lifted his back leg to pee just like the big dogs do - even though he was a little wobbily trying to balance on three legs.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Sleepover
Babydoll: Did you have fun at your sleepover? Did you remember to use good manners?
Boy: I totally had good manners! I ate with my mouth closed and everything.
Boy: I totally had good manners! I ate with my mouth closed and everything.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
You Want Me To What?!
My last post got me thinking about the times I've made the similar error of switching the first letter of two words. My nephew's Parry Hotter, for Harry Potter, is an example. It turns out there is an honest-to-God term for this: it's called a spoonerism, also known as a marrowski. I usually do this with the names of a couple or siblings. It causes an interesting reaction every time I've done it, and I always come off sounding like an idiot.
My most embarrassing incident was when I was leaving a voice mail at a spa, requesting a waxing service. I was mid-message when I committed a spoonerism, asking for an appointment to 'brax my wows'. Startled by my mistake, I started punching the # and * keys, hoping that the voice mail would allow me to re-record my message.
No such luck. My only choice was to pretend it didn't happen, so I resorted to starting over in the middle of my own message, supplying my own beep! and my intended message asking for a brow wax.
When the aesthetician returned my call, she had a little laugh about it - but I know she secretly thinks I'm a nut job. It's all good.
My most embarrassing incident was when I was leaving a voice mail at a spa, requesting a waxing service. I was mid-message when I committed a spoonerism, asking for an appointment to 'brax my wows'. Startled by my mistake, I started punching the # and * keys, hoping that the voice mail would allow me to re-record my message.
No such luck. My only choice was to pretend it didn't happen, so I resorted to starting over in the middle of my own message, supplying my own beep! and my intended message asking for a brow wax.
When the aesthetician returned my call, she had a little laugh about it - but I know she secretly thinks I'm a nut job. It's all good.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Scared, Potter? You wish!
We recently went camping with my SIL and her husband's family. It was a beautiful woodland site next to a creek that was so picturesque that I half expected to see gnomes or fairies along the trails.
My youngest nephew is almost five-years old. He has the sweetest way of talking in that he drops R's from words - which makes him sound like he was raised in the toughest area of the Bronx, rather than Southern California.
When invited to play badminton, he asked if we were going to use "bodies". After a clarification, we realized he was saying birdies. Nephew laughed and said, "Not bodies! I said bodies..." with no discernible difference in the pronunciation between the two words.
The highlight was when Nephew referred to Harry Potter as Parry Hotter. Kids are cool like that.
My youngest nephew is almost five-years old. He has the sweetest way of talking in that he drops R's from words - which makes him sound like he was raised in the toughest area of the Bronx, rather than Southern California.
When invited to play badminton, he asked if we were going to use "bodies". After a clarification, we realized he was saying birdies. Nephew laughed and said, "Not bodies! I said bodies..." with no discernible difference in the pronunciation between the two words.
The highlight was when Nephew referred to Harry Potter as Parry Hotter. Kids are cool like that.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Ticklish
I've never been a huge fan of massage, for a host of reasons - but mainly, it feels just too private and personal to have someone that isn't my husband rubbing my naked body down with oil.
A hand or foot massage, particularly if they are paired with a manicure/pedicure, is more my comfort level. But this has its draw back as well, because my feet are crazy ticklish. Recently I had told this to a manicurist, who assured me that it was only because the pumice stone hadn't been used properly or firmly enough.
I replied that was that was all well and good - until I kicked him in the face. He was deeply offended by this remark, but I noticed he remained a good arm's length away from my feet for the rest of the pedicure.
On a different visit to the nail salon, I was wearing my favorite ring: a pink and white enamel Hello Kitty ring with a rhinestone bow. The women fawned over my ring, one of them asking if I had more of the same ring available for purchase. Sadly, I did not. That was when my manicurist laid her hand on my arm and confided, very seriously, "Hello Kitty, she is a good listener."
I've recounted this story many, many times - and find it just as funny now as I did then. Call me crazy, but maybe Hello Kitty is a good listener because she has no mouth? Just a thought.
A hand or foot massage, particularly if they are paired with a manicure/pedicure, is more my comfort level. But this has its draw back as well, because my feet are crazy ticklish. Recently I had told this to a manicurist, who assured me that it was only because the pumice stone hadn't been used properly or firmly enough.
I replied that was that was all well and good - until I kicked him in the face. He was deeply offended by this remark, but I noticed he remained a good arm's length away from my feet for the rest of the pedicure.
On a different visit to the nail salon, I was wearing my favorite ring: a pink and white enamel Hello Kitty ring with a rhinestone bow. The women fawned over my ring, one of them asking if I had more of the same ring available for purchase. Sadly, I did not. That was when my manicurist laid her hand on my arm and confided, very seriously, "Hello Kitty, she is a good listener."
I've recounted this story many, many times - and find it just as funny now as I did then. Call me crazy, but maybe Hello Kitty is a good listener because she has no mouth? Just a thought.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Solstice
Every June, our town celebrates the summer solstice with a parade that draws a crowd of approximately 75,000 people. I've always considered it a Southern California version of Mardi Gras, and it's one of my favorite events.
The parade coincides with a huge block party on our street, that includes a bounce house, beer garden, a smaller version of the parade along our street, talent show and DJ. This year, we had a party and invited many friends to come watch the debut of Girl and Boy's band in the block party talent show. This is a photo of two of my favorite people, who had participated in the parade downtown earlier in the day dressed as zebras. Excellent lips!
The theme for the parade changes every year, and one year my best friend and I decided to enter the parade. The theme was Circus, so naturally we decided on a flea circus as our entry. We created a miniature float that included a tight rope, trapeze and a ring of fire. We'd rehearsed our trapeze act that was both clever and a thing of beauty to witness. Her husband agreed to be our 'barker' and carry a megaphone, calling out the stunts that we fleas were about to perform, and Girl would be a butterfly in our show. She was 6-years old at the time.
The day before the parade, my best girl called in tears. She'd been sick earlier in the week and instead of getting better, she'd gotten worse. There was no way she'd be able to participate.
Instead of cancelling our entry, her husband stepped up and became the integral part of the act. He constructed a giant magnifying glass to 'wave' over the mini float to give the illusion that the flea circus was coming to life. He also made a megaphone and got totally into his role and shaved his head - just for the event. We'd made a 'ring of fire' out of a hula hoop and the colorful, curly shavings that come from shaping a skateboard wheel, and used a jump rope to represent the tight rope.
It took almost two hours to make our way up a dozen blocks, stopping every 25 feet to 'perform' for the crowd. Barker would call out one of two death-defying acts, Ring of Fire or Tight Rope - and I would complete each to the roar of the crowd.
Gentle readers, can I just tell you that this was far and away one if the best (and most physically demanding) times I've ever had? From one of the very first 'stunts', I took off flat out running and twisted my ankle. It was very hot that day, and mid-parade was a helpful Samaritan that was spraying parade participants down in an effort to cool us off. Barker got a full blast of water in the face and all the sunscreen on his freshly-shaven head poured into his eyes, blinding him for the next three blocks.
We were both ruined for days afterward, but it was well the effort - and it solidified my deep and profound love for Barker.
The parade coincides with a huge block party on our street, that includes a bounce house, beer garden, a smaller version of the parade along our street, talent show and DJ. This year, we had a party and invited many friends to come watch the debut of Girl and Boy's band in the block party talent show. This is a photo of two of my favorite people, who had participated in the parade downtown earlier in the day dressed as zebras. Excellent lips!
The theme for the parade changes every year, and one year my best friend and I decided to enter the parade. The theme was Circus, so naturally we decided on a flea circus as our entry. We created a miniature float that included a tight rope, trapeze and a ring of fire. We'd rehearsed our trapeze act that was both clever and a thing of beauty to witness. Her husband agreed to be our 'barker' and carry a megaphone, calling out the stunts that we fleas were about to perform, and Girl would be a butterfly in our show. She was 6-years old at the time.
The day before the parade, my best girl called in tears. She'd been sick earlier in the week and instead of getting better, she'd gotten worse. There was no way she'd be able to participate.
Instead of cancelling our entry, her husband stepped up and became the integral part of the act. He constructed a giant magnifying glass to 'wave' over the mini float to give the illusion that the flea circus was coming to life. He also made a megaphone and got totally into his role and shaved his head - just for the event. We'd made a 'ring of fire' out of a hula hoop and the colorful, curly shavings that come from shaping a skateboard wheel, and used a jump rope to represent the tight rope.
It took almost two hours to make our way up a dozen blocks, stopping every 25 feet to 'perform' for the crowd. Barker would call out one of two death-defying acts, Ring of Fire or Tight Rope - and I would complete each to the roar of the crowd.
Gentle readers, can I just tell you that this was far and away one if the best (and most physically demanding) times I've ever had? From one of the very first 'stunts', I took off flat out running and twisted my ankle. It was very hot that day, and mid-parade was a helpful Samaritan that was spraying parade participants down in an effort to cool us off. Barker got a full blast of water in the face and all the sunscreen on his freshly-shaven head poured into his eyes, blinding him for the next three blocks.
We were both ruined for days afterward, but it was well the effort - and it solidified my deep and profound love for Barker.
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