Okay, so I just realized this morning that I am an awful…completely-shitty-and-have-no-excuse blogger as of late. I say this because after flipping through my ba-fucking-gillion emails I realized that not only have I not been posting enough, haven’t been reading other blogs enough, I haven’t even been responding to comments left for me like I should. This has become a bad habit I’ve picked up. Worse yet…I have new subscribers (and I wouldn’t blame any of you a bit if you gave me the cyber-finger and told me to ‘piss off!’ now), and I haven’t even had the courtesy of thanking them for reading my shit and stopping by their blogs to have a look/see and chat. Shitty…SHITTY…blogger I am! Sorrrrry…
I’m going to attempt to get this post out, get some shit done around this hovel, and try and spend some time playing catch-up with all of you the rest of this week. ((sigh)) It’s going to take me forever at the rate I’m going. Ever feel like you’re just running on freaking fumes? Geeze-Louise!
So I thought I would first give you a little update on the pooches. I forgot to mention in my last post that Bon (who we lovingly now refer to as ‘Bon-Bon’ cause it sounds so cute) had his second visit to the vet and is now weighing in at 19 pounds. This occurred last Saturday morning, and he was exactly ten weeks and 3 days old…to my calculation. I should mention two weeks prior to that he was just 11 pounds, and had managed to gain 8 pounds in 14 days. Yep, he’s going to be a monster. Anyway, I thought I would include pics of my ‘big’ baby.
This is what happened to him in one month….
The vet said it’s safe to assume he’ll be over a hundred pounds. Ya..think!
Yep, Bronagh’s becoming a big girl too.
She had her appointment for shots this weekend and weighs 16.5 pounds. Daddy rubbed her belly the other day and said he was making a wish. Ha..ha.. She’s a chub! I’m so glad we got her. Bon-Bon loves his girl.
Hmmm…so let’s reflect on the rest of Pissy’s week.
Well, I ran into my nephew and his wife (who I haven’t seen in forever) at the birthday bash last weekend. They were only planning on staying in town till Thursday morning, so I thought perhaps I would invite them over on Wednesday. I figured Monday afternoon and evening I would really ‘scour’ the house, Tuesday I would get my pie and side dishes for Thanksgiving made, and Wednesday (because I knew the Old Man didn’t have to work the next day) would invite them out for cocktails. Ummm…right. Let me tell you how it ended up playing out.
The Old Man had picked me up a ‘big girl’ bottle of wine–which I believe was intended for Thanksgiving, but Pissy is a lush–and I started tapping into it Monday afternoon on an empty stomach. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It didn’t take long for the ‘booze’ to kick in, my motivation was interrupted, and I was on a drinking roll. Okay, so most of you know that by the time you get there in your drinking you want to have a little fun, chat…or do friggen something, right? Except here I was stuck in the sticks, the hubby not really interested in entertaining me, so what do you do in a situation like that? Why, a little drunk-calling, of course. ((Sorry, Spectra!)) Ah…yes. I chose that as the appropriate time to give my blogger-bud a call. I believe it could’ve been a couple hours we chatted. Who knows. I’d moved on to canned beer by then. Needless to say, she was kind enough to ‘put up with me’ and I thoroughly enjoyed our little visit-via-drunken-calling, but Tuesday brought with it a hangover the size of New York, I didn’t get a damn thing done I intended, so nixed the idea of inviting anyone out as I was now faced with doing EVERYTHING I needed to do pre-holiday on Wednesday. ((groan)) My bad!
That last little tid-bit of info leads right into this one and the question, “Ever notice that you slave over holiday meals that take hours to prepare, only to enjoy a plate of food for about ten/fifteen minutes?” Does this not seem ‘right’ to any of you? No seriously, it occurred to me mid-Thanksgiving morning as I was shoving the turkey in the oven, that I had already wasted HOURS of my time the day before making a pie, preparing my stuffing and side dishes in advance, and was now having to spend more time babysitting a fucking bird all day. Now this wouldn’t have been so bad if we were having the children or company out, but it was just the Old Man and I. Yeah…you heard me right. Just us. And I might mention, it was the Old Man’s idea to stay home this year and make dinner here, but umm….you know who was the one expected to do all the cooking and clean-up. And I did. I was up at the crack of dawn sucking down coffee and running around the chilly kitchen getting shit going, and guess where the Old Man was?
Oh, you know I had to ‘document’ his laziness. I am soooo not beneath pettiness. And to add insult to injury…a close up.
Eh, I guess I can’t bitch too much; we did enjoy a nice dinner. Never mind that it was all MY doing. “No really…no thanks necessary, Hon!”
Well, at least it was a you-scratch-my-back-and-I’ll-scratch-yours in the end. Kristy (remember my Partner-in-crime on Halloween?) phoned earlier in the week, wanted the four of us to get together for cocktails over the holiday weekend (this included her old man and mine), so given that the Old Man actually had to go out in public and participate in human interaction…God forbid…I thought a nice dinner was the least I could do. He kept his word too–didn’t back out at the last minute–so we all hooked up for drinks at the local tavern on Friday night. To quote Kristy (who I spoke to yesterday): “It’s a good thing we met when we did and not when we were younger or I’d be dead by now.” Ha..Ha.. Yep, it didn’t take us long to find out that we have tons in common, including sassiness, humor, and hitting the sauce; and that it’s a good damn thing we’re getting old, are somewhat settled down, and don’t have the ‘ability’ to party all the time, or we’d be in a heap of trouble with each other. Let’s just say the beer went down waaaay too easy Friday night…and the proof was the really shitty game of pool that Kristy’s old man had to carry me through, and the fact that I was sicker than a dog on Saturday, and according to her she was about the same. “The old, grey mare’s just ain’t what they used to be….better put em’ out to pas-ture”.
All in all I’d say it was a pretty good week in spite of the obvious abuse of alcohol. (Wait…abuse would be if one wasted it, right? Yeah…like that would ever happen in our house!) Things all around have seemed to improve, and I even told Pandora Patty such when she called on Sunday for our ‘gab’ session. (I go through Pandora Patty withdrawals if I don’t hang with my chick enough.) I told her sadly, it was almost a blessing that we lost Hound Dog after Sully passed, because having him around was a constant reminder of the pain from losing the other. Now that they are both gone and we are focusing our attention on the new pups it almost seems like a ‘fresh’ start. I know…that sounds wickedly horrible, doesn’t it? Truly I don’t wish for it to, but can’t deny that it was harder to move on with the ‘little guy’ sulking over the loss of his brother. I’m just really trying hard to focus on the here-and-now, to appreciate what I have, and find things to look forward to. I feel almost bathed in a warm light right now, and think it must be rubbing off on the Old Man, cause he’s been in a particularly upbeat mood too. Just milking the ‘little’ blessings, I guess. I thought perhaps I’d share that with all of you to give you hope in that if you’re depressed there is light at the end of the tunnel. Let’s face it…if this miserable Bitch can be in a good mood, anyone can! Ha..ha..
I hope all of you had a wonderful Thanksgiving! 🙂