How Leo Became a Man

So J's parents' house has been under remodeling construction for a while, as it was a pretty serious reno. The most recent job the workers have been tackling has been the chimneys. The week of Easter, there was an issue with them accidentally sealing a family of baby squirrels into the roof, and J's mom took a pair of garden shears to the soffit when she noticed a mama squirrel absolutely going...nuts. Out popped a baby squirrel, everyone was reunited and happy.

Flash forward to this past weekend. I was so nervous leaving one particularly anxious crazy dog at their house, because they weren't home when I had to drop them off. And the workers were there, working on the roof, AKA banging around hammering stuff and this caused Leo to, well, bark. He also almost gave one of the works a heart attack with his super loud manly dog bark, but we apologized for that and all was well. When I left, Leo, Mary and J's sister's dog were all barking playfully. I felt a little better.

I touched base with J's mom that day when she got home and she said, "Don't you give them one more thought this weekend!" So I decided not to. Until I woke up to a text message the next morning, that as previously posted, stated: "Carnage on the carpet! Leo killed a squirrel in the house -- I'm traumatized! I believe my actual response to this was not very lady like, but it was mostly just annoyance that Leo had done something so bat-brained like kill a squirrel in the yard and bring it into the house. But this is not what happened, friends! The story unfolded via text message.

The exact time line is unknown as J's mom was blow-drying her hair and didn't hear the commotion. But she guesses it went something like this: Leo was minding his own business, watching "Squirrel TV" (what they call it when the dogs sit in front of the back door watching nature in the backyard) when all of a sudden a SQUIRREL pops down through the chimney. We know there was a bit of a scuffle, an overturned side table, and just as soon as it began, it was

over. She walked out in the family room and saw Leo just shake-shake-shaking what she thought was a toy. Until he stopped and looked at her. She said the high-pitched shocked squeals she let out made Leo drop the dead beast immediately (very surprising to me) and she was able to corral him in another room.

One of the workers removed the "evidence" and by this time, Leo had been hailed a hero. Although it apparently made the other two dogs insanely jealous, as Leo walked around with a little more kick in his step the rest of the weekend. J's mom reassured us that the damage a squirrel would've done to the new wood floors, walls, furniture was well worth the shock of seeing my precious boy shaking that squirrel like it was his job. I just hope it wasn't the mama squirrel from before. I hope it was the crazed abusive ex-husband squirrel or something. Either way, he's earned himself what we consider in this house to be the highest honors. A new nickname, bestowed upon him from J's mom and dad.

Behold, Count Leo Kovsnowski, the Russian Squirrelinator.

The Pigs Have Flown

Because now I've seen it all! One of the amazing things about living in Norfolk is some of the amazing traditions that this place keeps. One of which is the marching of the animals to the circus.

Our tree-lined streets were all aflutter yesterday afternoon when the newspaper posted a last-minute "article" saying that since the circus was coming, the animals would be marched from the train to the arena downtown at 7PM. Now, another interesting fact about Norfolk is that it is the home to PETA's headquarters. So it always turns into a ...circus?...when the Ringling Brothers come to town. Last year we missed it because they printed a time in the paper and then pulled the synthetic wool over PETA's eyes by showing up much later that night. Yesterday, however, they were true to their word.

Mr. Officer, protecting the streets from stampedes

Bike cops galore! Here they come!

At this point, J had to "back it up" with the dogs, since we had no idea how they'd react. Also, this is the moment that my preggo friend Carey and I started jumping up and down.

So fun! And cute! And if you look carefully, on the right side of the 'phants, PETA people were marching with signs, peaceably, because that is their right. I just had to laugh because J had been begging me to go stand on that side of the road, and if we had, PETA would've totally blocked our view. And they might've stolen Leo, thinking that we'd illegally imported a dingo.

But the elephants had their own signs. And they said, "Greatest Show on Earth." Also, I will have you know, the rest of them (other than the two pictured here) were holding the tails of the friend in front of them. That made my heart sing with glee.

There they go! It truly was one of those moments where five minutes later I was all, "Hmm, can't say that's something I've seen before."

And I guess we know who was on poop patrol!

Dorkletwins

A few weeks back, J and I spent one of the warmest nights of the year (so far) on his parents' dock while they were out of town. It was so perfect and lovely and resulted in many cute pictures of the babies.

A particularly lovely view from my future in-laws dock.

Buddy boy

The girls

My ladybird

He's the cutest boy in the world!

Ears back, Mary wistfully wishes her friend the crane would come home.

Run, run dock boy!

Another Post About Dog Puke

This past week, Leo's been a little devil.

He's been getting into things that before didn't intrigue him at all. We've had to take new precautions before we leave the house to avoid coming home to a train-wreck. I'm not going to tell you some of the awful things he's ingested from an overturned kitchen trash can this week, but I will tell you his body is punishing him for it now.

Leo is a strange bird. Before he tosses his cookies, (does anyone else's dogs puke as much as ours do? If you can stomach it, click here and scroll down for a reminder of past-pukes...) Leo makes a strange little smiling face, where his dog-cheeks stick out and he kind of appears to be grimacing. Grima-smiling. Anyway, we call it "Bat Wings." And we know now that it is the warning bell to awful things coming soon, and before you know it, he's heaving and....yeah, all over the floor. So when one of us spots Bat Wings, it goes down a little something like this:

S: Oh no! He's got BAT WINGS! Get him off the couch!!!

J: Leo, down! Hurry! DOWN! Oh, no, ewwww...

S: sigh...I'll get the Spot Shot...

Well, last night, I was brushing my teeth and preparing to skip into the TV room with swimming goggles on (this is true), when I noticed a small dingo standing next to me in the bathroom. I looked down at him. BAT WINGS. Just as he started to heave. After he was finished, J and I sat with him in the bathroom for quite some time, comforting him and telling him it was going to be ok. We're not angry with you, Leo. Regardless of how angry we were with him earlier, as soon as he gets sick, we always forgive him and I just want him to feel better.

And I might have said, "Thank you Leo, for running to tell Mommy you had to throw up." Either way, I hope this is good practice for parenthood -- that's the only way I can justify this.

Random Factuals of the Moment

- My company's new health plan had an incentive to register for a free pedometer to upload your daily steps, eventually leading them to give you a discount on your plan. Or something. I didn't care because I was blinded by the new pedometer...it's so beautiful. I've worn it every day since...even though it's pretty bulky on my waistband. I love the challenge. Today's count? Over 13,000.

- When we say goodnight to the babies each evening, J insists that Mary needs to hear her name both first and last. As in, I'll say, "Goodnight, Mary. Goodnight, Leo." And J will add, "Goodnight Mary." He says it comforts her. We end up giggling about it every single night.

- I had a work lunch today with a very interesting group of gentlemen, including a foreign liaison officer from Singapore. He was very, very smart and nice. I got to spin class tonight and lo and behold, there he was, on the bike next to me. I wonder how long we've been sitting next to one another without knowing it. He's better at jumps than I am.

- I've finally started reading "A Thousand Splendid Suns." It may be the best book I've read in years. I love it and don't want it to end. If anyone can recommend a book to help ease the pain, please share.

- When we were designing our wedding website, music was a huge decision. We needed one more song to add, and I wanted, "Heard it in a Love Song" by the Marshall Tucker Band. Yes I know it's actually anything BUT a love song, but it was also the first song on the radio when we got back in car after the hike when J proposed. :) Followed immediately by "Power of Love" by the one and only Celine Dion. Both songs now have a very special place in my heart. PS, he'll deny it now, but on that euphoric drive home, we both belted out that Celine song. 'Cuz I'm your laaaaaaaaaadyy......and you are my maaaaaaaaaaannnn.....

- I was heartbroken yesterday at some very, very upsetting work news and spent my evening in a seriously sad funk. Today I came home to a clean house full of good smells and a "German feast!" that J had prepared...and there was no more funk to be found.

- My friend was just certified to be a yoga instructor after a 15-day session in Arizona. She's a vegan now. With crazy-toned arms. So when she offered freebie classes to her gals this month I jumped at the opportunity. It was my first ever instructor-led yoga class and I loved it (yes I realize I'm 10 years late jumping on this bandwagon). I'm still sore from Tuesday night's class. Yay for making it into crow pose!

- I can't stop listening to "Cold December" by Matt Costa. It's been one of my highest play counts in iTunes for a few years now, but I've recently found myself on another kick.

- I'm going to Berkley's second birthday party next weekend. Cannot believe our wee baby niece is turning two...I remember meeting her when she was just a mere 8 days old. She's not really turning two though, since she was born on Leap Day, after all.

- My favorite water bottle broke yesterday at the gym. I mean, it really broke. I went to take a sip and it squirted ALLLL over the guy on the elliptical next to me. There was an awkward moment where we both just kind of slowed down, glanced at each other, and then went back to working out. On the hunt for its replacement, I could not find a perfect water bottle. I have two of the metal ones, yeah yeah, I'm over that trend**. As far as I'm concerned, they always make my water taste awful, I don't like the smell, and they're not easy to open when you're in motion. I think I could make a cool million designing a sturdy liter-sized BPA-free plastic bottle with a easy to open squeeze-y cap.

**No offense to those of you who enjoy the metal water bottles.

Snow Day

So it snowed on Friday night. Apparently the largest snowfall in two decades, and definitely the only time I've seen real snow in my five years Virginia. Needless to say, it basically is shutting down the region transportation-wise. No plow has been through our neighborhood, no salt trucks, no nothing. I'm willing to bet that maybe 1 in 4 houses has a snow shovel, judging from the still snow-covered sidewalks. There are 6 or so inches of snow still covering my car. Just amazing.


My neighbors had a raging party on Friday night so Justin's friend his girlfriend stayed in our guest room. And when we all woke up and saw the snow, we called some other friends and met up for brunch to celebrate SNOW DAY with bloody marys and mimosas! Then we took the dogs (their G. shepherd Cheyenne pictured above with Leo) on an incredibly beautiful and quiet walk to a park where the pups ran around frantically in the snow with about 6 other snow-covered pooches. Hilarious.

Mary looking like a beautiful model.

Cheyenne carrying her log back from the park...

Leo taking a short break from eating huge mouthfuls of snow.

Having spent most of my life in the Midwest, snow is not usually such a novelty. I was thinking about how there are kids here who (unless they've traveled elsewhere) had never seen snow before this weekend. Never made a snowman. Never had a snowball fight...so sad.

Never had their boss call them two hours ago to tell them it's essential-personnel-only tomorrow...so no work for me. So for now, it's wool socks and hot chocolate and movie time.

Here and there

- Yesterday Mary tripped whilst jumping out of an ivy bed. And skinned her chin on the pavement. And it started bleeding. And J started feeling his first paternal instincts kick in. She's ok, i just can't get over how strange it is that our dog face-planted on the sidewalk.

- When I was getting ready to blow dry my hair yesterday morning, I somehow managed to gouge a strip of skin out of my forehead with my thumbnail. Quite possibly the most randomly attained self-inflicted injury of my life. It looks like I accidently drew on myself with a red pen. Great.

- My car is going to be ready: apparently never. I get daily email updates from the "collision specialist" and I think they're trying to figure out how many times they can tell me the vapor canister doesn't fit before I freak out.

- After finally deciding what to take to Thanksgiving next week at J's folks' house, I did a test run last night of Cheesecake-Filled Pumpkin Cupcakes. I don't even like pumpkin desserts, and holy crap these are amazing. And beautiful! I did follow reviews and omit the crazy frosting recipe and used a simpler cream cheese frosting. I'm taking a bunch of them in to work today to disperse of them, which means I'm going to have to actually speak to people today. And you know how I hate that.

- My mother gets here in 5 days! We have appts at bridal boutiques and meetings with caterer to look forward to! While I am upset my dad isn't coming this time, I'm excited because it means we can just sit around and talk and do the down-time things we gals like to do together.

- My back is getting itchy from my sunburn. Yes, we made it to Florida last week. I haven't quite figured out what to say about our whirlwind trip other than: I have the coolest in-laws in the world and I love Ft. Myers Beach.

- It did become apparent to us though that after more than 2 years together, our dogs don't like to be apart. They may not play together or really pay any attention to each other, but both of them had some issues with not eating and umm, other stuff, while we were away. From now on we're going to use an in-home pet service so we don't have to split up these two knuckleheads. Jamie, interested in some travel? :)

There is an important lesson here. When you spend all day doing your laundry and decide to toss all of your clean clothes on the guest bed to sort through later, a mid-sized Frito-smelling dog might come make a nest in it.

J, you listening?

No mint on this pillow

Over the past few days I've noticed something a bit strange going on in my office. My home office. My "office" AKA my spare bedroom-sized closet. Every day when I've come home from work, I noticed that the duvet on the guest bed has been quite literally turned down, like it was a bed in a high-end hotel awaiting a pair of newlyweds. Seeing how we haven't had a guest for a month or two, and how we're anything but high-end, it got me wondering what was going on. Perhaps dear sweet J decided to crash there after an all-nighter at work? But I should've known. Last night I passed by her in the hallway as she trotted out of my office in the dark. She gave me her best "Who me? I was simply looking for my misplaced tussy mussy!" waggle, waggle, pet-me-and-forget-all-your-troubles face.

But this morning, oh I was too fast for her. Caught in the act. Behold the culprit. Miss Mary. Such a lady. She doesn't sleep on beds. She sleeps in beds.

Black Cloud

It's been a rough couple of months in our house. I try not to linger on this stuff but I feel like I need to get some of it "out there" in order to get it off my chest.

In order:
-A horrible sinus infection / ear infection
-An awful reaction to my antibiotic
-A trip to the ER
-3 trips to the doctor over a 2-week time span
-A week without J & Mary (they went on vacation)
-A car wreck -- not my fault, but it's no consolation because it's turning into a bigger headache than the one I had for the 4 days after the accident.


So instead of lingering too long on the negative, I'm going to try to accentuate the positive:
-A two-year anniversary, that allowed me to give J the "big secret" surprise I'd been waiting to give him for MONTHS...officially the first surprise I've ever pulled off with him. Painting with Cita the elephant at the zoo. I think this picture will always make me smile. Mostly because you can see that he's grinning like a 6-year-old. (It's worth mentioning that Cita is a movie star. She was in PeeWee's Big Adventure and The Color Purple. That's a pretty diverse resume.)


-I missed out on most of beach week this year because I was so sick. But J was a trooper and took both dogs the night the fam just hung around on the sand to relax and watch fireworks. He brought me back this picture, which makes me smile equally as hard. Pictured in the green (guess J and his pops both enjoy green tees?) is my future father in law and his future granddog in law watching fireworks on the beach together. Love it.


-As mentioned earlier, our household was split in two for a week, as J and Mary headed back to Tennessee for a week of outdoorsiness. Because I changed jobs in August, I couldn't take that much time off to go (which turned out to be ironic because I was home sick that whole week???). He came back with a beard, a smile, and one stinky dog. But no ticks, oh, and this picture. I call it "Mary of the Valley" and this is where her heart lives.


-And my prides and joys. My ready-made collection of antique Mason jars. I have had them for a few months now, but here's a picture before I washed them. You can kind of see it on one of them, but a few of them have remnants of old jam labels on them. From the kitchen of Ruth. Blackberry jam. Boysenberry jam. My favorite says "Grape jelly -- ???" That's the kind of mystery I think would've been worth solving. These will be front and center (literally) at the wedding...centerpieces. Some holding zinnias. Some holding mums. But all of them holding a little piece of the past. I love that.

Dorks

In case anyone needs a cute picture of our dogs laying feet-together to make them smile, here you go.

Golden Shower

Last night J took pity on his little stressed out gal and took me out to dinner.  I was in the bathroom reapplying some makeup and he decided to run the doggies down to the "pee tree" before we left.  We call it that because, well, it's a little tree in a patch of grass and it's an irresistible spot for them, as well as most of the other dogs in our 'hood.  There's a few seconds of sniffing, and then the business conducting and then we're done.  Plain and simple.

All was fine when they left.  But when they returned, I could hear J grumbling in the hallway and I'm not going to lie, there were a few curse words involved.  Next thing I know, the trio of man and beasts is in the bathroom with me.  The grumbling continues.  "Is everything ok?" I ask, putting my mascara away.

J threw the shower curtain open with such force that I knew everything was definitely not ok.  A split second later, Mary is in the tub.  Water is on.  And the face-washing begins.  "J, is everything ok?"  I ask again.

J turns around to look at me.  "NO!" he shouts, pointing a demeaning finger at Leo, who all the while has been standing sheepishly beside me with his leash still attached, watching the madness.  "HE PEED ON HER FACE!!!"

Pictures from my phone

Over the years I've lost so many pictures from my phone due to sheer stupidity.  I never ever email pictures to myself *I just recently inherited J's BlackBerry, and before now it's always been too hard.*  So very much in need of some decompression time, I present to you my collection.  I call it, "Pictures from my phone: In random chronological order because I don't understand why you store them in random order, BlackBerry." 

Llamas in Napa.  Namely, Tina and Tina.  We were so captivated by these Llamas.

Two of my favorite guys.  My daddy and Ryan James Winstead.  Ryan was our youngest houseguest ever and stole the hearts of many.

A family of geese and...umm...baby geese (gooselings?) that live in the compound at work.  They do not have security badges, but don't think this lack of respect for security would work for you, because they won't even let some employees in the gates (Ha, Team Weymouth?).  The geese babies are bigger now, but I always love seeing them on my way into work.  Starts my day with a smile.

Finley Wald.  LEMonade and I had just picked her up from her pack's house upon our return to San Carlos from Napa.  Finley was exhausted and super sweet, and unbeknownst to us, had a pop-up-car-trunk-like wound on her pad.  Sick.

Mary.  Princess of the Seat of Power.  Mary trembles like a leaf during storms and the short stint of thunder yesterday was no exception.  I invited her into the "seat of power" (AKA what J called the middle seat in our "L-sofa" please-do-not-call-it-a-sectional), made her a fort of pillows and tied a long-sleeved tee shirt around her like a cape.  I've seen infomercials where you can buy a cape for your dog that is supposed to rid them of their fear of storms.  Turns out a 5 year old pink J. Crew tee has the same effect -- it worked!

My belt for LEMonade's wedding.  I finished the flowers yesterday and received approval; both from Bride and my fabric flower-making mentor Va Va Va Bloom. :)

Ahh these two.  I'm so angry at them right now.  Remember the need for decompression I mentioned earlier?  Wonder what that was about?  I'll give you a guess...it was because of these two.  If you need a refresher, I invite you to reread one of my previous posts entitled Houdini Soup, because they are full of hi-jinx.  None quite as disgusting as what I came home to today though.  

I'm warning you.  GROSSNESS ahead.  VERY NASTY THINGS in the scrolldown.

-----------

Seriously, you should stop now if one of the following applies to you:

1) I'm eating oatmeal

2) I just finished eating oatmeal

3) I'm thinking about eating something in the near future

-----------

Ok, sicko, proceed with caution...

Behold.  Dog puke.  Heaps and heaps of it.  Yeah.  It's basically just their breakfast and nothing more.  You can file this one under "reasons I hate being the first one home." I of course yelled "WHO DID THIS!?!?!" at them three or four times halfway expecting one of them to point sheepishly at the other.  No luck.  This must be like Fight Club with these two.  Only it's Puke Club.  I'm just thankful it wasn't Poop Club.  It was disgusting and it was everywhere.  And you can see how the perpetrator skillfully took special care NOT to get it on the easily cleanable wood floor.  Thank goodness for you, Spot Shot.  And my very stretched-thin p a t i e n c e.  

What?  I warned you it was nasty.  You still looked.

Can't yet find the words

I've been writing and then rewriting "the perfect summary."  I keep deleting it.  Let's just say it starts with this: 

Then this:

Add in a little of this:

And a splash of this:

And finally...this:

I'm working on the less hyphenated version, but for now...this will have to do.

Dinner for 8

Thursday night after I got home from the gym, J and I slowly started to make dinner.  He prepares the food for the grill, I saute the veggies...  In the middle of snapping the end off a green bean, someone knocked on our door.  Amidst the dogs barking their heads off, I peeped through the peephole and saw it was one of our first floor neighbors.  (The neighbor that we weren't entirely sure liked us as much as his roommate).

 

Of course we welcomed him in, the perfect host and hostess that we are (flashback: me, in sweaty gymclothes with a tousled ponytail.  J: I'll just say thank goodness he had pants on).  What happened next is kind of blurry in my memory due to hunger pains and the fact that I'd ceased reading New Moon just long enough to make some green beans.  Neighbor Jeremy, who we'll now call Jer (that's for you, Gib), starts talking about grilling and grills and can we grill and do we have a grill and you get the picture.  It ended up with J telling Jer that yes we have a grill, and it's on, and we're getting ready to throw a few steaks on it now.  Jer says something to the tune of "Do you mind if we grilled some veggies on it?"  He says he's got food downstairs and that they'll bring it up.  I say, "Sure."  I didn't catch his use of plural pronouns.

 

So he left, and J and I were just as confused as we'd been when we opened the door to see a guy who hasn't necessarily expressed his love for us yet.  Five minutes later he and a girl showed up with 2 grocery bags of food, a huge bowl of potato salad, 2 boxes of Boca burgers, and an unopened bottle of Southern Comfort.  Five minutes after that, three of his friends showed up at our door with beer.  Five minutes after that, one last straggler shows up.  Total: 8 people.

 

In what might've seemed like an act of antisocial behavior, J and I sat at our dining room table and ate our dinners while our neighbor and his posse hijacked our balcony.  They were drinking beer, they were laughing, they were not at all acting like this was an odd situation.  Our dining room table is right by one of J's fishtanks so two of NeighborFriends came to look at it.  They're a married couple.  They have African Cichlids too.  The talked with us for quite a while about it.  They also have a new puppy that they rescued.  Ok, we like them.

 

Flash forward two hours.  All 8 of us are standing in our kitchen (which makes me laugh because my old kitchen had a max occupancy of 1.4 people) laughing at one of J's animated stories, as Mary and Leo entertain us all.  Turns out 2 of NeighborFriends work with Jer at the Botanical Gardens and they offer some advise on our budding herb garden on the balcony.  They loved the dogs.  Showered them with love and treats.  And all in all, when it was all said and done we had a lot of fun with them**.  We joked afterwards about why anyone would invite friends over for a cookout if you don't have access to a grill.  Totally random and spontaneous.  And it completely made me appreciate how clean our place was.

 

After all, you just never know when you're going to host someone else's dinner party.

 

**The married couple had a friend in town.  An extremely tall girl, like towered above the rest of us.  At one point when we were all in the kitchen, she bent over and then slowly crumpled to the floor.  It was the weirdest thing I'd ever seen...don't think I've ever seen anyone faint before***.  I gave her some water, someone reached into our cabinet and handed her a bowl.  I'm assuming it was her for to puke in, which hello, gross.  She just sat there saying she thought she'd been food poisoned (she ate a veggie burger) and how she then said it was sun poisoning.  It was very odd.  And she didn't even want to leave then either; they stayed another hour.  Her friend's husband said later that "Guess the air's thinner up there."  I said, "Where?  Here on the 3rd floor?" and he goes, "No, when you're 6 foot 7."

 

***Retraction: sophomore year in college J-Gib fainted due to a massive allergic reaction to amoxicillin.  That day took 9 years off my life.

 

Party Poopers

I once watched Ellen Degeneres describe how embarrassing it is when other people to see you watch into a spider web.  There's no recovering from it, no saving face.  You know the feeling of just totally freaking out, with the only concern in your mind is making sure there was no spider in said web when you walked straight into it.

I hate to tell her that I've found an event even more embarrassing.  It's called walking my two dogs.  This morning, like every Saturday in recent months, J is at work so I take the dogs on a solo walk.  And I should take a moment to explain that walking on a leash is on of Leo's fortes.  I've said before that I think he would've made a swell police dog due to his never-ending energy and determination to defend.  So putting him on a leash is one place he feels that I'm fully in control (J will argue with this and says Leo won't stop "honking" at people...aka the lovely sound he makes when he pulls himself against his leash too hard)  Mary on the other hand was raised in Tennessee.  Off a leash.  Where she ran with a pack of free-roaming dogs through the fields and mountains, chasing deer and rabbits.  So now when we force her to wear a leash, it's kind of like me trying to squeeze into my old prom dress: it just doesn't fit.  

When we moved to this condo and solo dog-walking became a necessary evil, I devised a plan.  I've figured out a way to walk them very closely to each other (maybe 8 inches apart), side-by-side with me, 3 abreast if you will.  That usually keeps them too distracted by each other's proximity to act up.  If they could talk, I'm sure this is the point one of them would screech, "Mooooommm, he's touching me!"  This phase, Cocky Walking Mode, has been working out fairly well for me.  I prefer a swift pace and so do they.  Sometimes I get a little too proud of them, thinking we must look like a cute trio --  such well-behaved dogs.  I imagine in this early leg of the walk, we're the little clan that make other dog-owners wish their dogs could walk on a leash so nicely.  Until...one of them breaks ranks to poo.

Let's face it, dog poo is a part of life.  J and I give each other updates, and ask for updates, several times a day.  "How are the babies?  They poo yet?"  I'm sure my cubemates think I have a sick obsession for excrement, but if you're a dog owner, you get it.  And it never fails, just as we're getting into our stride, a girl and her 2 obedient dogs walking down the street, one of them will just stop.  And squat defiantly.  And I'll immediately shift into Poo Mode, which consists of wrangling the other dog as far away as possible (common decency, right?) and digging for my poo bag (what you non-dog owners might refer to as a "Walmart bag") and waiting for the glorious moment I get to trust a miniscule layer of plastic to protect me from all that is evil in this world.  I also get to perform the poo-squat myself, bending over to scoop up nastiness.  There is a dog park down the street bordered by condo buildings on 2 sides and I secretly wonder if one of those condo inhabitants is standing by a tripod in his condo, snapping pictures of unsuspecting victims to eventually publish a photo book called, "Bending Over: The Art of Poop-Scooping in South Hampton Roads."  Yes, people, these are things I really wonder about.

Then the equation gets a little more fun because now I'm juggling the dogs and a tied up bag of turds.  And once the other dog poos, that's when we shift into Danger Zone Mode.  Two bags of crap, two dogs, two hands...you do the math, they've got my king in check.  They own me at this point.  Our neighborhood has a few trash cans along our walking route, so when I'm at max capacity, this is when I shift into Danger Zone walking mode.  I pick up pace and hightail it to the first trash can as fast as possible, usually several blocks away...I imagine it looking like a crazy game of Frogger from a bird's eye view.  I dodge all bushes -- Leo will try to mark every bush if you let him, even when he's just at the point of willing something to come out.  I dodge all puddles -- Mary will stop at every.single.puddle. to snatch a quick drink despite what may be floating in it...hey, she's a country dog, y'all.  I avoid all yards I know house loud barking dogs.  I avoid people.  Parking lots.  Stop signs.  You get the picture: I'm a woman on a mission, a secret agent trying to deliver a top secret package before a deadline.  National security practically depends on how fast I can trot to that trash can.

Once I've reached Euphoria Mode, what happens after said poo bags have been disposed of, I relax a little.  The dogs start to slow down, worn out after such an adventure.  The only thing that can get in the way of our now way easy walk home is a squirrel.  Just as it did this morning.  Both dogs started lurching forward, pulling way stronger than normal, and I kind of lean back into my shoes to brace myself.  Their strength catches me off guard and the combo of their pulling and my resistance leaves me reluctantly bunny hopping down the sidewalk.  I reach deep within my being, and muster just enough power to emit a guttural, throaty reprimand.

"LEO...MARY...LEEEEAAAVVVEEE IIITTTT!!!!"

I glance to my right and see on the opposite sidewalk and see a man jogging behind his young daughter's bicycle.  I can't help but think after they passed me that he must've whispered to her, "Sweetie, it's not polite to stare at crazy people." 

Little Mary Muffet

Mary.  Oh, Mary.  Someone should write a book about Mary and her quirks, like the fact she has to be coerced to drink water from the big self-watering bowl they have because she hates bubbles in her face as she drinks.  But since they won't, I shall tell you a little story about Mary.  I know I've told you that she's more human than canine, but I think I've also shared that she's more feline than canine.  Friends, something's happened to her in the last month.  I've been calling it 'bursting Mary's bubble' as in, the personal space bubble around her.  Previously, if you moved into her dance-space, she would get up and leave the room...usually retreating to her tuffet (we'll get there soon).  But as of late, when we're hanging out at night -- me watching TV with Leo curled up at my feet, J engulfed in a crossword puzzle occasionally looking up to ask me for a 12-letter Psychedelic Furs song -- Mary will march her self up and park it 2 inches in front of my face...and proceed to stare me down.  What does she want? I asked myself.  Then straight out of Free Willy, she leapt up over top of me and curled up behind my head.  As in, curled herself into a teeny ball on the pillow I was leaning against on the couch.  She stayed there, softly sighing behind my head, the rest of the evening.

She had joined the team. Realized that when she retreats to her tuffet that Leo gets all the lovin. Now, she's right there waiting to receive 50% of that love.

As briefly mentioned about the teeny ball she curled herself into, our dogs prefers to be on something soft and poofy.  If you leave a pillow, a sweatshirt or maybe a sock on the floor, our dogs will circle on top of it about 3 times and then curl themselves into the tightest ball you've ever seen.  Mary has a bed in our bedroom that we lovingly call her tuffet, and to her, it's the best place in the whole world.  Well, one night last week, Leo decided to be a trickster and he stole Mary's tuffet.  He stood his ground and she retreated...defeated, and with no place to sleep.  J, having seen this go down, jumped out of bed, and invited her to sleep on the above-pictured wingback chair.  Mary kindly obliged.  And you know what?  When I woke up the next morning, I opened my eyes to see a little black ball still curled up on that chair.  She was a happy girl. And since he got to sleep on her bed and not in his usual post under the bed, Leo was just as pleased with himself.

Fly Me to the Moon

J was off today and decided to go visit his Grandaddy in Moon, Virginia.  It's a little town; I don't know the population, but I'd guess 3.  When we went to visit last year, it certainly felt like it was just us and Grandaddy.  Amazing solitude, beautiful land, breathtaking private coves...simply paradise.  Grandaddy, a young 93, is seriously one of the most amazing men I've had the pleasure of meeting. So learned, when you talk to him you get the feeling that he's experienced everything. From his smooth lines (the first time I hugged him, his hearing aide buzzed and he said to me slyly, "It buzzes when a pretty girl is nearby."), to his knowledge of the outdoors, to his vast collections of just about everything -- he's someone you just want to visit.   So when J told me this week he was taking another trip up to visit, it got me thinking about our last visit.  And just how badly I want to go back.

His huge barn (pictured above) was a treasure trove of all things antique.  Home to many a canoe and kayak, as well as the perfect baby blue life vest he let me borrow, that barn has stories to tell and secrets to keep.  It's where I saw my first Barn Swallow.  It's where I felt such a feeling of peace staring out to the water from the oversized windows on the second floor, surrounded by the best smelling air this side of Tennessee.

Miss Mary knee-deep in mud -- her favorite place to be!

Captain J, master canoe wave-jumper

Canoeing in the middle of the sound, in quite deep water, 

willing Mary to be still and symmetrical so we wouldn't tip over.

Parked at our beach. J loves this picture.

"This is my cove!"

And the ultimate surprise?  Someone else got to go along today.  Yes, while I worked 11 hard hours, Mr. Leo frolicked, played, ran, and sniffed every inch of that land.  I can't wait for my team to get home so I can hear allll about it and see alllll the pictures.  Waiting in their food bowls are 2 bones I picked up tonight at the store, a special treat for my stinky tired worn-out babies.  I'm sure a post is in order.