Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

Meet Bishop!

Monday, August 31st, 2009

Every once in a while S will get this wild hair.  He decided on Saturday that we should meet up after he finished work to go look at dogs at Petsmart.  They usually had rescued dogs there.

So, he called me and gave me my warning.

S: I’ll be home in fifteen minutes.  Be ready to go.

me: Do I have to be pretty?

S: Only if you want me to take you out in public.

me: Damn it!  (I was in the middle of cleaning the house and hadn’t gotten to the cleaning me part yet.)

I did the wicky-quick get ready thing and ended up being ready just as he walked in.  We drove to PetSmart only to be very disappointed.  No dogs this Saturday.  We drove to another pet store, PetLand.  No big dogs.

Disappointed, we headed home.  Well, we aren’t easily deterred, so we started looking online, first (you guessed it) Craigslist, then the Charlotte Observer online.  And that’s where we hit the jackpot.

S and I needed something to look forward to, something to be really happy about.  And we found it.  We drove to Indian Trail after being given directions, and found an owner who was looking for good homes for a litter of Great Dane puppies.  While S talked to the owner, I was passed this little guy.  (He’s only eleven pounds right now.)

I stood there snuggling him, letting him nuzzle into my neck and give me the occasional lick.  It was love at first lick.  And then he was told the price of this rare Harlequin Great Dane, which is about the same time that I moved to pass him back.  This puppy was pricier than we had anticipated.  And the purchase was entirely on S, since I am for lack of a better word…broke.

We drove away disappointed.  I knew it was eating at S.  He had wanted a dog for so long.

S: I’m doing the budget.

me: And?

S: I think we can do this.

Next thing you know, we’re turning around.  And he’s calling to warn them that we’re showing up with a deposit.  We return and fill out the paperwork.  Okay, I’m doing paperwork and he’s paying.  It’s  a nice little system we’ve managed to work out.

S is grilling the woman for more information about the breed.  All her responses are positive.  Most of our fears are soothed.  Apparently Danes sleep about nineteen hours a day, so we don’t have to worry about him being too sad without us while we’re working, or too destructive.  Despite their large size, they have a very slow metabolism and don’t eat that much.  (He must get the metabolism from me, the not eating much would be S.)  There was one question that S was very excited about.

S: How big will he get?

Owner: He should stand just under five feet.

I look at S.

me: Oh good, because I’ve always wanted a dog I can look in the eye, saddle up, and ride around the neighborhood.

S: And how much will he weigh.

Owner: Probably about 170-180 pounds.

S is beaming now, the excitement palpable.

me: At least he’ll outweigh me.

We stayed to pay with him about an hour.  They are going to start calling him by his name: Bishop, which doesn’t seem so strange given the fact that his parents are King Elvis II and Princessin Zoe.  He’s AKC purebred and we can look up his lineage.  I’m less concerned about that.  I want a nice family dog.  S wants a son.

S: This is going to be the son I always wanted.  And you didn’t even have to get fat.

me: Yay.

S: You know he’s going to take up a lot of space in the bed.  You may want to start sleeping on Rachel’s trundle.

me: I’m being thrown aside for a dog?

S: I’m kidding!

And I think he is, mostly.  He’s very excited and has taken to dreaming about him.  Bishop is too young to come home for two more weeks.  The delay is KILLING S.  We’re going to visit him and take more pictures next Saturday.  We had hoped to take the kids, but they will be with their father and have plans.  They, too, are very excited about this puppy.  They are less excited about the fence building that is about to be their new task in the coming weeks.

Bishop is the topic of conversation around the house.  S can’t wait for him to Dino me.  (a la Fred Flintstone) or drag me around on the leash.  He can’t wait for his boy to scare off the first pizza delivery driver and all of Rachel’s potential boyfriends.  (Sorry, Rachel.)  And he can’t wait for Baby Bishop to grow into his bark.  By the way, he hopes to stud out his boy, so if you have a female Dane and you want a shot at a rare Harlequin…let us know!

All I know is, we now have a puppy-cow.  With his coloring, he’ll blend.  And I, no doubt, will have plenty to share about his transition into the house and the next formative year.  We’re raising a Great Dane.  Time to update the About page.

Posted in Bishop tales | 6 Comments »

Our Version of Wall Words…

Sunday, August 30th, 2009

So, in almost any store that sells home decor, you can find these nice tubes with vinyl letters that form inspirational sayings.  Ahhh.  I’ve owned them previously.  In my old master bedroom, there was a reminder over the bed: Always Kiss Me Goodnight.  I loved it.

Wall words have an entirely different meaning at our new house, however.  We have an entire wall devoted to rules that Doug, our garage monkey, should follow.  It sort of started as a joke one evening and evolved from there.  See, Doug has this way of irritating the heck out of people with some of his baser habits.  And one night, S woke me up to witness Doug’s antics.

Doug had consumed three…maybe four Jooses.  And Doug is a light weight.  And a sloppy puking drunk.  Next thing you know, he is wretching in the driveway, so S ordered him to be sick in the natural area where we knew it wouldn’t be tracked inadvertently into the house.  Hence the writing of the first rule on the wall.  (It’s a garage.)

Rule #1 Only puke in the natural area.

Then there was the day that he thought it would be really funny to walk around the house passing gas loudly and with inordinate frequency.  The result…we needed another rule.

Rule #2 Doug, no farting in the house.

(Pretty crude, huh,Mom.  You should meet Doug.  The first rule of writing is know your audience…)

There’s still one major rule that even S won’t let me put on the wall.  It’s a really big important rule.  The breaking of said rule would result in immediate removal from the house.  We’d be voting him off the island if he did the horizontal cha-cha on the couch.  Knowing how serious we are…even he has honored that rule.

The other two rules he’s already broken.  There was a puking incident in the garage while I was in Sumter.  And there was the day S almost beat him for watching Rachel and I do yoga while tooting on the couch.  (That we were in downward facing dog when S arrived on the scene didn’t help Doug’s case.)

So Doug stays, for now.  And no doubt as time wears on and our nerves wear down, there will be more rules, forever.

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A good morning epiphany…

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

As I walked out the door this morning, I paused for a moment.  It was sprinkling.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m no delicate flower.  I’m not afraid of getting wet.  In fact, S would argue that given the proclivity of my hair to frizz, I look better wet.

Still, the danger, in my mind was what was waiting for me outside of The Bubble.  Once I cross the bridge, the weather is unpredictable.  It could be a torrential downpour for all I know.  Well, I just put on my big girl panties and headed out the door.  I was determined that I was going to walk every morning this week, determined to reach my goal.

Well, the sprinkles continued for a while, even outside of The Bubble.  And then they stopped altogether.  I was mildly upset.  We need the rain.  Ed, as a lawn guy, complains about it.  Lack of rain equals lack of business.  At the same time, for S, rain usually means a day off…without pay.  Hmmm.

And I couldn’t help but think about my life lately.  It has been pouring on me, metaphorically.  I’ve even been zapped by lightening once or twice.  And on those inclement days, during those inclement times, it is so easy to get bogged down by all the bad going on.

But let’s face it, we need the rain.  We need the rain for the grass to grow and the flowers I love so much.  We need the rain to replenish the water table, wash clean the earth.  That’s what I like about the post rain moments outdoors.  I like how fresh and new it smells.  I like the scent of earth, the aroma of flowers, the way everything looks while drip drying.

It’s like that in life, too.  Eventually, the storm subsides, the rain passes, and everything seems fresh and new again.  And somehow, I think I’m on the cusp of that now.  I’m peeking at my life dopplar and it looks promising, which is good since my rain gage has about overflowed.  Even though I’m struggling right now, I know that I need these challenges to keep me sharp, to keep me focused, to help me better appreciate the good stuff.

There’s lots of good stuff.  I have two amazing kids.  I have S.  I have a roof over my head and food in my belly.  I have a vehicle to drive.  I have clothes to wear…that are getting baggy!  I have a job that I mostly enjoy.  I have hopes and dreams and aspirations.  And we have big plans for our future.  And none of it will be called because of a little rain.

Posted in Reflections | 1 Comment »

When life gives you flowers…

Friday, August 28th, 2009

See these?  These flowers were given to me by one of my patients yesterday.  It was pretty much the only really nice good thing that happened, so I’m holding on to them.  They are my happy thought.

Lately, it seems like every day starts new and fresh, full of hope.  I drag my fat butt out of bed at 5:30am, wake up Rachel, dress, post to the blog, walk down to Jay and Spring’s and back.  (I keep hoping one of these days they’ll be waiting outside with water like in the marathons.  So far, no such luck.)  Then I do some housework.  This morning it was laundry, feed and water the animals, clean the cat’s box, and drink a protein shake.  (It’s not about flavor, I’m working towards a goal, people.)  I shower, dress for work, pack three of my five meals for the day, throw some makeup on and try to make my hair…look like hair.  Then I drive to work.  Generally, I have peaked by then.

At this point, the day goes progressively downhill until I can go home and be ensconced in the bubble with my family and friends.  Yesterday was particularly trying.  Michael gave me a hard time.  I didn’t feel like fighting, so I said nothing.  (I always think in these situations, would I rather be right or would I rather be happy?  Usually, happy wins.)

And I don’t know why, but sometime before dinner, I started getting sad.  The female squatter had called and left me a message.  S and I listened together.  Same old same old.  She was calling to tell me that they didn’t have money for me, but they would.  Luckily, I’m not holding my breath.  And everything just kind of hit me.  I went into the bedroom because I don’t like to be sad and cry in front of people, even my family.  And S has enough to deal with.  It took me a while to get under control, to feel like I wanted to be around people again.

By the time I went out to the living room, the kids had made plates and were eating with S.  He doesn’t like Potacos, so he was just watching tv with them.  I made a plate that I picked at.  I don’t eat a lot when I’m sad.  (If you saw me, you’d know I’m not sad often enough.)  And I knew that I wasn’t hiding my feelings well when Rachel began rubbing my arm.  Then she cleaned up after dinner.  And she dumped my plate.  (My eyes must have been HORRIBLE.)

S walked out to the screened porch.  I waited a moment, then I joined him.

S: What’s up?

me: I’m sad.

S: I know.  You’re wearing your sad face.  What are you sad about?

me: Sometimes it’s just too much.

S: I know.  And you’re getting it from all sides lately, aren’t you?

I nodded.  He stood.

S: Come here.

I met him in the center of the room and he wrapped me in one of his magic hugs.  And it helped.  Then I walked in and saw the flowers in the water on the table.  Sometimes we need to cling to the good stuff and let all the bad just slide off like we’re made of Teflon.  So I’m holding on to S, and my kids, and my family and friends, and especially my flowers.

And I wish for you lots of love and flowers today, too.

**Watch for the Potaco recipe!

Posted in Reflections | 4 Comments »

Potacos

Friday, August 28th, 2009

So, this recipe was a product of my diets.  See, I went through this taco/fajita phase.  They are…mostly good for  you.  At the same time, let’s face it, there is such as thing as too many tortillas.

In the effort to consume a good carb instead, we modified the recipe I had developed and slapped the whole combination on a backed potato, hence the name.  Potaco night is a big deal in my house.  The kids love it.  Try it and let me know!

Potacos

1 bottle Rose’s Sweetened Lime Juice

minced garlic (several cloves, or a heaping table spoon from the jar)

boneless skinless chicken breasts, pounded thin (great way to release some tension!)

potatoes, one per person, cleaned

lettuce, shredded

shredded cheese (your choice, we usually use a Mexican blend)

sour cream (optional)

Taco Sauce

two or more onions, sectioned into six

olive oil

Place pounded chicken in 13×9 baking dish, add entire bottle of Rose’s and the garlic.  Leave to marinate for 30 minutes.

Place potatoes in oven to bake for 45 minutes in the oven at 400 degrees.  (They can be microwaved, but may come out a bit…spongy?)

In a skillet, pour several tablespoons of olive oil that has been heating over medium heat.  Add onions, separating into individual pieces as they go into skillet.  Saute until carmelized, stirring occasionally.  They will be brown and soft, but very yummy.  Remove onions to covered serving dish.

Using the same skillet, add marinated chicken.  (I can usually fit three breasts at a time in my pan.)  Don’t flip until golden brown.  Remove when done, usually fifteen to twenty minutes.  Remove chicken and slice into strips on cutting board.

Take the potatoes out of the oven.  Place them on idividual plates.  Slice in half (or smaller sections) before loading.

I usually lay out all the toppings and let the kids prepare their own potaco buffet style.  Enjoy!

Posted in recipes | 1 Comment »

Okay, here’s the big push…

Thursday, August 27th, 2009

I started this month sharing a few goals for the blog.  It’s gone better than I could have hoped, far surpassed the previous month.  And here’s the thing…now I’m getting greedy.  I need more!

My hope was that I might double the previous month.  That would mean that I would have 346 unique views for the month.  (Ultimately, I need 500 or more per month for my agent to really get me sold…) And I was hoping that I could have 1534 views.  Seems doable, right?

Well, here’s where I’m at…drum roll, please:

420 uniques

1895 visits

Yay!  This is really exciting.  And see, since I’m so close…I might as well go all out and strive for my 500 uniques, right? 

So, please…pretty please with whip cream and a big juicy maraschino cherry on top, and did I mention hot fudge?  I’m all about some hot fudge…  oh, I digress.  As I was begging, please share me.  Tell your friends, your neighbors, your co-workers, the crazy lady pacing on the corner (if you think she has Internet access), your dentist, the guy detailing your car, your postal worker, the FedEx guy (mine smells AMAZING!), well, you get the idea.

And many thanks.  In advance.  And since your putting yourselves out there, your reputation for good taste and being cool, I will try to be witty and colorful.  In short, I’ll make it worth their while.  (Or twist myself into a pretzel trying…)

Posted in Goals | 2 Comments »

Big News!

Thursday, August 27th, 2009

Tyler called.  We have a prequalified buyer who actually lives in the neighborhood and wants to see the house.

There will be a showing tomorrow afternoon sometime.  Hope the squatters fall in line and don’t ruin it for me.

Could it be that simple?  I mean, it’s about stinking time!  Nothing ever comes that easily to me. 

So, please keep your fingers crossed, send positive thoughts, pray if you do, I need all the help I can get.

Many thanks!

PS.  Of course I’ll update you.  As if!

Posted in Big News!!!! | 2 Comments »

Update on Squatter-gate

Thursday, August 27th, 2009

Well, I mentioned that we worked diligently on the squatter problem after Ed’s revelation Monday night.  I thought my idea was genius.  I’m tired of trying to get them to leave.  If they like the place so much, I’ll make them stay.  I wanted to wire the house so that every time they touched a window or door in an effort to leave, they’d get a shock.  Just a little jolt, nothing lethal.  Think underground fencing for people.  Good plan, huh?

Then, I remembered that I was a good girl.  And we decided to make some phone calls, asking advice of those who had experienced similar situations.  The consensus was that we could try to write a letter and deliver it with a police escort in the morning, but know that if it didn’t work, we’d need to file eviction papers in the County Clerk ’s office.

Once I sent the kids off for their first day of school, I shared with S the letter I had composed.  I had thought of every contingency.  It was iron clad.  Or so I thought.  I even completed the proposal for the repair work on the house.  Since S would be doing it, I used his company proposals.  He even gave me a discount.  (Generous, huh?)

I noticed S was lingering.

S: Did you call for an escort yet?

Me: Just about to.  I wanted to make sure they’d be home first.

S: At 8 in the morning?  They probably haven’t gone to bed.

He watched me pace for a moment.

S: I’m trying to stay with you and be here for you as long as possible, but I have to go to work.

Me: Thank you.

So I called, twice, before I was transferred to the right branch of law enforcement.  And they were vague on when he would arrive.  And I was supposed to park in front of the house and wait for him.  Yeah, because I definitely wanted to be sitting in front of the house with them inside.

The officer, I’m going to call him Officer Lifesaver, pulled up alongside my vehicle.  We spoke for a long long time.  Luckily, I’m only going to give you the short version.  Here we go.  He looked up the tenants while I told him everything that had transpired.  He was very sympathetic since he was a landlord as well.  He saw that while neither had a criminal record, the male squatter had a long (and again) LONG history of being the victim of assault.

Officer Lifesaver: Who gets assaulted that many times?

(That was my favorite quote.)  And then after reiterating that he couldn’t give me legal advice, he advised me to skip the letter step and go straight to filing for the eviction, do not pass go, do not collect $200.  (Okay, I added the Monopoly part.)  The advice was sound.  And so he gave more.

Officer Lifesaver: Where do you live?

Me: (pointing) See the brown house.

OL: Geeze.  And they know you live there?

Me: *gulp* Yes.

OL: Watch out for your property.  You’re gone during the day.  They’re not.

Me: When does the law start working for me?

OL: File the papers.

So, I was beginning to think maybe I should just go to file the papers.  And I did.  It didn’t take too long.  It did cost money.  It was worth it.  Last night was the first night in a long time that S and I didn’t lament the problems with my house and the renters.  It was the first night we were able to relax and talk and not even look longingly at the Schlager in weeks.  It felt good.  It freed up a lot of time.  So we snuggled and watched television instead.  Way better.

Posted in Just Venting | 1 Comment »

One down, One Hundred Seventy-Nine to go…

Thursday, August 27th, 2009

The school year is off to a great start.  The kids woke up happy and ready.  I sent them off on time and after they had completed the ritual: pictures and measuring.  It was fun and they were excited to do it.  Apparently they don’t know that I’m lame.  (S is amazed that I have managed to raise such cool kids.)

And there’s this first day of school after school ritual, too.  It involves me sitting down and filling out a heap of paperwork.

S: What’s for dinner?

Me: Whatever we order.  It’s paperwork night.

S: Oh, that’s right.  The kids told me.

So Rachel turned on the computer and we ordered pizza from Papa John’s.  The account is in her name.  She learned that with babysitting money and the Internet, food could be delivered to her door over the summer.  (That was the same time she learned that ordering food with Doug around meant that she would end up feeding him.)

And while I waited on the food, after promising not to embarrass her by standing near the door with my face pressed to the glass, I filled out the papers.  They were sorted so that each child had a stack.  Yay!  And I would call one or the other over to sign their portions.  The best part came when I realized that I needed an emergency contact on the blue health card.

Me: I’m putting you down as the emergency contact.

S: (watching television) Okay.

Me: They won’t call you unless they can’t reach me or J.

S: (Not even flinching) Okay.

Me: Huh.

I had expected him to balk a little bit.  I thought the realization that he was now somewhat responsible for the kids might hit him hard, but it didn’t.  I thought it might give him one of those growing pains where he would begin moaning his lost youth or expound on how he never expected to have kids, let alone raise someone else’s.  Instead, he seems to have transitioned nicely through the first few phases of grief (dead single life…and that youth thing) to settle into a new acceptance.  And it’s about damn time.  He even signed as the witness to my signature on one of Keenan’s papers.  Wow.  We’re really doing this, more than sharing a house, we’re sharing a life.  I like it.

Know what else?  He’s joking with them more.  He’s playing around, teasing.  This man who always needed constant reassurance that he was behaving appropriately or saying the right thing is consistently saying and doing the right thing without even consulting me.

So, we ate our pizza.  He grabbed drinks for everyone while I pulled plates.  We ate around the coffee table while watching some comedy.  We talked about their day.  We gorged ourselves on Rachel’s “The vegan can suck it Mousse.”  And then, he watched a chick flick with me and Rachel.

All in all, it was a great first day back to school for the kids.  It was a great start to the school year.  It was quality family time.  At least I have that going for me.

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