Dog people.
Alternate title: Dr. Ang, you should skip this one.
I am a dog person. I will ooh and ah over a cat if someone loves it and it is the polite thing to do, but honestly? I kinda hate them. Their fur is nice on their body, but I hate petting a cat and having their hair fly everywhere. The concept of a litter box is kinda gross to me. Their creepy little tongues are just bleh. They all have strange personalities–kind of like a bi-polar person. I think a pet should be drama free.
But dogs? I love dogs. I love the big ones with their huge ole paws and padded foreheads. I love the little, yappy ones that fit just right on your lap. I love my hyper, oh so sweet Katydid even if she is naughty occasionally. I understand dog people. I now know I am from a long line of dog people.
My mom’s birthday is in December and the day she was born my Pa (maternal grandfather) traded his coon dog (you all know what that is, right? Think Where the Red Fern Grows) for a heater to keep her warm. Every dinner with my family I hear how my great grandfather used to sneak food under the table to whatever dog might be there at the time. There has been a dog in every house I have ever lived in from birth. (except the dorms. I had a fish then.)
My grandfather has Alzheimers. It is not a pretty disease, and it has been really sad to witness the last year–and yet I am so grateful that I have. The biggest change has been to his personality. While never really warm, he was always kind. Now…not so much. I could go on for an hour, but you get the point.
Except.
His love for dogs seems to have actually grown. He is so excited to see them, he keeps treats for my parents dogs stashed places. They sit by his feet or beside him whenever he is there. He seems more like his old self, and even happy, whenever he is petting a dog.
And you know what? My grandpa’s birthday was this week. And, my dad went this morning and got a little dog from the pound just for my grandpa. Her name is Lexi and she is really cute in a totally ugly sort of way. She is small, less than five pounds, and is just right for a small apartment in an independent living facility. I am not sure he understands that Lexi is his, that she is going to live in his apartment and he can give her treats and love on her whenever he wants.
I also am not going to delude myself that this dog is going to fix everything…or even anything. I am not sure my dad thought through the details at all, but I understand the thinking behind it, and hope that it brings my grandpa a little joy.
And in a year or so when Lexi needs a new home? Well, maybe we will be over losing Gilbert by then.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, NaBloPoMo | Comments (2)Cramming.
You know, NaBloPoMo is easy when you have not blogged in ages and a day! I could spend the whole month just filling you in on what has been going on. I will try not to make EVERY post like the first three minutes of Glee.
Right. So. JHJ, my brother, is still doing his JHJ thing. You know that underachieving, brilliant, hipster with no money thing. However BiL? Big changes there. Dude is in China. Seriously. He is in school. The rumor is that China is not all it is cracked up to be, and he may be home sooner rather than never, which is what I was afraid of. (There goes my vacay to China! JK. He is worth it.)
All the parental units are goodish, FiL works nonstop, MiL is an under appreciated genius, My dad is in Grad school! He has like an A+++goldstar on everything he turns in, and is constantly working on at least two research papers, (he is a little crazy if you want to know the truth. I guess the fruitcake doesn’t fall far from the tree.). My mama spent almost the entire spring and summer in KY. That sucked. Really. It sucked ’cause I missed my mom, but also because I wanted to help, but could not even think about what was happening up there without saying ACK! (ala Cathy. Do you miss Cathy? I found her final comic to be unrealistic. Chica was like 60.)
Ma, Mom’s mom, ( keep up now) is okay, I guess? Gabs is off at school and I think has a chance at being moderately successful if she would lose the PITA BF. (I thought twice about writing that, but it is nothing I have not said to her face. Repeatedly.) Ma is lonely, I think. The obvious answer is to have her move here, but I think that is a long shot for at least a few more months.
The depressing news is that my other Grandparents, remember the ones that live down the street at the independent living place? They are declining rapidly. Like really quickly. My grandmother mixing OTC diet pills, sleeping pills, and pseudo-ephedrine with her handful of Rxs, without our knowing, did not help. I wish I was kidding.
Let’s see. Who else. The Dog is good, she is limping some now from where she plays like a rhesus monkey after a hit of 5hour energy. The other dog? Um. Not so good. Actually as far from good as you can get–dead. He got hit by a car last week. We are very, very sad, and unfortunately were not at all surprised. He never grasped the concept of lifting his leg, but could dig out of a concrete enforced security fence in six seconds.
Okay, that is it for now. I am off to watch some more election results–it is a good night to be red!
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, NaBloPoMo, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (2)Bloggy what now?
Um. Hi Internet! Miss me? I actually missed you quite a bit–enough that I want to do NabloPoMo even though I certainly do not have time to participate.
Boy is it dusty around here. I really need to do some house cleaning…..update the blogroll, new banner, dead links, etc. Have you ever been in a house that was really cute but left empty for eight months? Things happen– leaks, loose boards, bugs.
Obviously my love for …. and — is still intact.
Wanna know what has been going on? Okay so here is the scoop. On April 5th I went in to have my Gallbladder removed. It was full of sludge ( no really, that is the real term for it!) from some meds I took this time last year! Anyway, so I was in surgery. It was eight AM. The Husband was sitting in the waiting room…..and gets a call. His whole department at work was dissolved. Effective immediately. He was freaked the hell out, obviously. I was suddenly a stay at home mom with an unemployed husband. Um. Panic!
The good news is that we were totally fine, better even. We did have to cancel our super awesome, yet super dorky vacation, but other than that our savings and his stipend got us through. He was out of work for exactly two months. The new job is doing exactly what he wants to do, what he has gone to school for! Speaking of school:
Yay!
The down side is that The Husband no longer works from home, but instead in Capital City, 45 minutes away. And he also is working waaaaay more hours for less money. But it kinda feels like we have no room to complain….he has a good job with good insurance for all of us. We still get to live in our cute little house, in our dream home town. In this economy–who could possibly complain about that?
The other development as far as employment goes is….I am working! Well, sorta. I so was not looking for a job, but one day got a call from the director of The Son’s preschool. They needed a preschool teacher in the 3yr old room….they loved me…..was I interested? Oh yeah, it includes free tuition, plus cold hard cash (more than you would expect even!). Uh, sure! Why not! It turns out that I love it. The kids are darling, I love my co-teacher, the school is wonderful….really it is perfect. I only work Tuesdays and Thursdays, and only during the times when The Son is already there, right down the hall from me. Awesome.
I am also really turning this part time photography thing into a real business, I do about three shoots a week, and that is more than enough! It is a joy to do, and sometimes I feel shocked that people actually give me money to do something I love.
The Son is good, better than good even, he is great! Four! When the hell did that happen? He is still all about outer space, and collected a fine haul of candy last night as an astronaut.
Okay, there is lots more to fill you in on…..tomorrow we learn more about those people who don’t live here at Huckablog World Headquarters!
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, NaBloPoMo, blogging about blogging | Comments (3)The Huckablogs and the State of our Union
Easter 2010, photo by JHJ
I keep writing posts and deleting them because I am not sure what I want to say. How much information do I want to share? How much do you want to know? Is anyone still reading or is this the ultimate exercise in futility?
Lets start with a review. Blog started in December of 2007 with me trying to force myself into a job that I knew was not right for me. March 2008, I gave it up and with the help of a new job for The Husband the decision was made for me to be a stay at home mom. I loved it but was let’s face it… lonely. I blogged to get my words out. To connect with long lost friends and family members….and it helped. Fall 2008 I joined a playgroup and MOPS. I make friends who I can talk to without feeling like I am boring them with stories of my kid, my job. I become involved. I become very involved, I find my self forcing a blog that is nice to rant on or post cute pictures….but has already lost some of the luster I was aiming for. This problem gets worse. January 2010. I contemplate pulling the plug, but don’t because I see in the future the need for updates, and maybe an anonymous support system to help with, gasp, post partum depression. I also happen to be weaning off of my Lexapro and taking my folic acid for the same reasons. I have nasty withdrawal symptoms and explain my lack of blogging. You respond with support. Thanks.
April 2010, I have surgery! Organs get pulled out through my belly button. I am fine, I am recovering, I will be fine. But something……has come up. Something I don’t really feel like I need to advertise because my family does deserve privacy. The State of our Union is this: Shaken but Strong. I love my husband and he loves me and our marriage is a strong one. All three of us are healthy and happy. There will not be a huckababy for a long time, and that is fine too. We have a house, and two cars, and plenty to eat. We will be fine.
My photography business is booming and I spend my spare minutes editing photos instead of blogging, and I feel discouraged when I do think about blogging, because all of my closest blog buddies have let their blogs die….or they are barely hanging on. I guess I am building to this. Love you. Really I do. But I am taking away all feelings of guilt for not blogging, I started it, and I can end it. I will not give up the domain, but it may be awhile before you see me again. So..later.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, blogging about blogging, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (4)Awkward Family Photos
You guys know this site , right? My family has more than it’s fair share of chortle inducing photos–and many of them include a certain birthday boy. He perfected the art of looking annoyed with us pretty early on, but it was just an act. I think. Anyway, nothing says Happy Birthday like cringe worthy posts!
This was taken 1992–I was 12 and JHJ was 9. We were at some sort of educational fort thing. Our vacations were always educational–something that The Hubs and I plan to continue even when we have a surly teenager.
I win the worst outfit award (I have never been to Hawaii, so this outfit was probably from TJ Maxx) , but JHJ gets props for the coordinating blue swim shoes and free hat.
Fast forward to 1999 (I think), I was 19 and JHJ was 16. He is wearing entirely black polyester. In New Mexico. In August. This picture makes me wonder if he was thinking about jumping. Or pushing. I have vivid memories of this day. We were staying in a condo in Santa Fe and then driving for day trips. That morning we knew we were going to be hiking so Dad said JHJ could not wear his black shoes because it was dangerous. Instead he had to wear white tennis shoes. Look closely and you can tell who won. I am wearing Doc Martin sandals (it was 1999, all college students wore docs), extremely practical for hiking. Good thing my dad never notices my feet.
Even with the black polyester, Mom wins the ugly shirt award–embroidered Noah’s ark on anyone older than three is a no win. Sorry Mom.
Happy Birthday Punk.
Filed under Boy is my face red, Family-blame the DNA | Comments (3)Snow Days
It SNOWED! I admit to having flashbacks of this time last year, but we kept power the whole time, had plenty of food, and nothing but fun. We all played for hours in the snow, snuffles be damned.
First snow angel!
I think he was still in shock this was happening in our southern town.
“Mama, the snow won’t go on my tongue!”
There is nothing like snow days to have an impromptu play date! W is getting huge already.
And this kid is way too cute for his own good.
I have a feeling we are going to have our hands very full!
This is O, three, one of our neighbors on the other side.
Her brother L, is five and such a ham!
On the second day we decided to drive the two miles to my parent’s house to have fun in their “un-played in” snow! They also had the ingredients for snowcream, and the grocery stores here had BARE shelves.
First up, a snow man! The whole family helped, even the reclusive JHJ.
I can not believe I posted a picture of myself with no makeup.
You know that my dad is a car junkie right? We decorated our snowman exclusively with things from his garage. His name is Greasey.
That beard really needs to go!
See that sled my baby is on? It was my Grandpa’s when he was a little boy. That is fourth generation tushie sitting on that sled.
Little punk hit me with a snowball! So I tackled him and covered him with cold kisses.
The Snowcream was delish and no one was injured during the snowball fight. (no pics of that, too dangerous for my camera!)
It was a good weekend, but not good enough to move north of the Mason Dixon.
Some of the photo credits from day two go to JHJ and The HUbs, but I have no idea who took what, so good job guys!
There will be a post with more words than pictures and this month’s postcard soon, I promise.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Photography | Comments (3)A limerick for my Father.
My dad is a nice guy named Barry
whose chin and cheeks have grown quite hairy.
The beard is short and normal in size,
but quite hard on my poor eyes.
I hope for a visit from the razor fairy!
ps. My dad’s name is not really Barry.
pps. Everyone hates the beard
ppps. he does not seem to care
pppps. Okay, I really don’t hate the beard, it is better than the handlebar mustache, but not as nice as his nice smooth cheeks.