Stupid Pet Owners

Last night, our dog trainer came over to visit with us and Goldie, the huge Golden Retriever.



The dog trainer, Cheryl, is a second year medical student, and she works with families for free and for fun. She is our angel.



Cheryl met with us and we explained that this is our first dog, and I especially have no clue how dogs work. And she asked us what commands Goldie knows and we told her and she asked us to work on one simple command with Goldie this week, that would take us all week, working diligently with her three times a day: Stay.



So, Dereck and I took turns practicing with her and then we were sitting on the couch talking to Cheryl and she said, "Well, since neither of you is alpha, you should be able to use a team approach to training her."



I was surprised to hear that there is no alpha, because I know enough from my werewolf books that dogs need an alpha, the lead dog whom all the rest of the members of the pack follow. So I said: "Oh? Is that unusual not to have an alpha?"



And Cheryl looked at me rather sheeplishly and said: "Your dog is alpha."

*

Oh, how much I have missed the Holiday Snowglobe. I just think this is hilarious. My kids do too.

What I miss about staying

home full time...

• My table is all set for dinner, including napkins and silverware.
  
  
• There is fresh fruit washed and set attractively on the table in a large, ceramic bowl.
  
  
• There is fresh, homemade bread for dinner, and candles on the table, and the table has been wiped off, and placemats wiped off.
  
  
• The floor has been vacuumed, the living room straightened.
  
  
• A first round of sugar cookies is cooling on the counter.
• The Russian Orthodox Christmas Service is in the CD player.
• We will go and get a movie after dinner (Willow) for family night, and I am not completely exhausted or crazy.

Friday

Having stayed home with youngest son today, who needed to stay home, I made challah dough from scratch and am now baking it. The local coffeeshop has prepared a pan of moussaka for us (and even let me take home the glass baking dish, as the owner lives literally one street from me and knows where to find it) and I brought it home to bake after the bread.



The girl who cleans for us, also Jen, didn't show yesterday, so today I assumed her role, the role of Jen, and cleaned my house.



I tell you this not to bore you, but simply to establish that I am a somewhat, but not completely, lazy person, who also knows how to bake from scratch.



However, it is hard for me to explain my delight today at the grocery store at discovering that you can buy ready-made gingerbread man cookie dough.



Tommy, the youngest, as he is called, "And also, Tommy the dictator, and Tommy the prince," has very distinct ideas about how one should celebrate the holidays. Those ideas run along the lines of hot cocoa and marshmellows, but also gingerbread men, which he requested we make this weekend.



I make gingerbread houses, cheating with graham crackers, the week before Christmas with the kids. But I have never really been in to gingerbread men because the dough seems to take forever to put together for me. I mean, why not just make chocolate chip? So, I was gearing up for the mess, the mixing, and feeling tired by the time we would be ready to roll the dough, cut the men, and bake.



So, when I saw the dough sitting there on the top shelf, hiding, but waiting just to be rolled out, no muss, no fuss, and not Nestle, which I boycott, I bought two packages.



When I got back to the car where Tommy was waiting for me, at his insistence, I told him, "I was so excited about the gingerbread dough, that they asked me to leave the store. 'Ma'am,' they told me, 'You are scaring the children.'"



And that made him laugh and laugh, because the little bugger has never been afraid of me in his whole life.

Did you know...

that cats can projectile vomit?



I saw it today with my own eyes.



I lost one old kitty last winter, and this year, two of my oldest kitties are taking turns throwing up everywhere, all the time. I fear that I am going to lose another one this winter-- if not both.



It sucks.



Not just the losing my beloved pet part-- but the vomit. It's really gross.



I've never seen a cat throw up so much in my life.



It might be time to call the vet.

If you need a little sun...

Go read about Selina's cruise, right now! It was awesome!

A Christmas Story

Not long ago and far away, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip...but there were problems everywhere.



Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.



Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her Mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.



When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where to. More Stress!



Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys.



Totally frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to the cupboard, he found the elves had hit the liquor and there was nothing to drink.



In his frustration, he dropped the coffee pot and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw it was made from.



Just then the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way to the door.

He opened the door and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said: "Where would you like to put this tree, fat man?"



And that my friend....is how the little angel came to be on top of the Christmas tree.



HAPPY HOLIDAYS!