I can't help, falling in love with you....

I'm baaaack! I've been MIA for a while. All writers hit blocks in the road along the way and I guess this was my time. I've moved the block out of the way and I think I'm good to go. So strap yourself in and hang on...here we go....

About three months ago on Easter Sunday, Little Darling Number One and Darlingette stopped by with a gift basket for us. There were Easter eggs, some cookies for the boys and two gifts wrapped in tissue paper nestled in the basket. I zoned in on the chocolate immediately but Darlingette interrupted my rapture and told us to open the wrapped gifts. I gave Steve the one meant for him, and I sat with mine in my lap ready to open them at the same time. I carefully peeled back one corner of the paper and saw the word...Grandma. Grandma???? Grandma...oops the kids had gotten confused and given me a gift meant for my mom. Wait...Grandma?????? Could it be??? The rest is a blur. I remember leaping to my feet and hugging people...crying, babbling....I don't really remember what I said but whatever the words were they couldn't possibly have matched the joy in my heart. I was going to be a grandmother!

Fast forward....Darlingette had asked me if I'd like to go with her to her midwife appointment so I could hear the baby's heartbeat. Well she didn't have to ask me twice! Yesterday's date has been circled on the calendar with hearts and stars adorning it for the past several weeks. We arrived at the midwife's office and Darlingette told me she would go in and get all the preliminary stuff out of the way and then they would come out and get me when it was time to listen to the heartbeat. I waited...and waited...and waited. I paced and read the diplomas on the wall several hundred times (to reassure myself that these people were in fact qualified to take care of MY daughter-in-law and our precious baby) and waited some more. It seemed like an eternity and finally the midwife came out and told me to come in. I sat on a chair and waited some more while she got her little apparatus out and placed it on Darlingette. We heard a bunch of noises, clicks and then.....there it was...my grandbaby's heartbeat!!! Oh what a sound..it was musical, rhythmic......brilliant (yes heartbeats can be brilliant). Now, I've loved this baby from the minute we were told he/she was coming but in that moment I fell IN love with him/her. You know the love you feel for your kids...like you would lay down your life for them, give them the world in a neat little package..that love? Well there it was again. I don't have to tell you grandmothers reading this what it feels like. You know. It's an overwhelming, heartwarming, all encompassing, wonderful love. You are all members of an exclusive club...the Grandmother Club..and now I've got a membership card. I still have a few more months to wait until I receive the gold card. The card that makes it official. But for now I get to think about, daydream and plan for all the wonderful times I have waiting for me when Deebee (a name I came up with..a combination of his parent's initials) is born. I can't wait to watch my son, my firstborn...hold his child in his arms for the first time. I can't wait to see my husband step into the role of Grandad and teach this baby the things my grandfather taught us. I can't wait to hold the first member of the next generation of our family and tell him/her all about the adventures that await. There are so many exciting and wonderful memories to be made. But for now we wait...and wait some more. I am counting down the months, weeks, days, hours, minutes.... until that day (or night) in December when the baby finally arrives. It can't come fast enough for me but I know Deebee has important things to do between now and then. Until then...I'll continue to dream, plan...and shop!

My Husband the Drama Queen

Why is it when men get sick they say they’re "really" sick? Really as opposed to fake? Are they implying that when women get sick we’re not "really" sick?  For the past few days I have been living with a sick man. When the cold first landed in my husband’s body it was just a sniffle. I heard him sniff a few times and he said he thought he was coming down with a "doozy of a cold." By the next day, it had settled in and taken up residence in his chest. I had come down with it also. Hubby took to his bed.  While he lounged in bed, I cared for the dogs, chopped and stacked a cord of firewood, did the laundry and cooked and cleaned. OK maybe I didn’t do the firewood part because our fireplace is electric but you get the picture.  He asked me if we had a bell. A bell?  "What for," I asked. "To ring so you can hear me when I need something…I can’t yell down to you with this sore throat," he rasped.  Oh dear Lord! I thought of asking if I should go out and buy a bedpan but decided against that, he might have taken me up on my suggestion.  By the third day, he dragged his body down the stairs and decided to lie on the couch, "to keep me company"….what?? Why did I need company? Oh wait…he meant so I could SEE proof that he was in fact hacking and coughing (and let’s not forget moaning…..oh the moaning!).  And why pray tell me do men insist on showing us the Kleenex when they blow their noses???? Do they really think we WANT to see it?  Today is the fourth day of this cold. I think he’s getting sick of being sick. He’s starting to walk around the house…correction…drag himself around the house.  He is presently propped up in a chair with the remote in one hand and the phone in the other. I think he’s got the paramedics on speed dial just in case he relapses….

Oh me? Thanks for asking. I’ve got pneumonia…not really... but figured I’d try this drama queen thing so I could see what he gets out of it.

Enjoy your weekend Folks. Make it count…we only get one crack at this particular one ;)

Please hang up and try your call again...

Do you hear voices? I do...at least I did this morning. I was sitting here drinking my morning coffee...trying to wake up after being kept awake half the night by a sick husband and suddenly I heard a woman's voice. I strained my ears to try and figure out where the voice was coming from...was it a neighbour outside? No, it was coming from inside the house. Did I leave the TV on upstairs? Who was this woman and why was she in my house talking at 6:35 a.m.? I was about to haul my butt off my comfy chair and investigate when Remy came bounding down the stairs......"call again...." the voice was louder. As Remy bolted past me I realized he had something in his mouth. "The number you have dialed...."..it was at that moment I realized the woman's voice was coming from Remington's mouth. "Remy...drop it...Remy give it to Mom...REMY." "Please hang up and try your call again...." Yes, yes I know, lady...I'm trying to hang up the phone but first I have to wrestle it from my dog who has just realized he is now holding the prize of the day in his mouth! At that moment Rufus decided to join the party...thank goodness! I can always count on Rufus to help me. "Rufus...he's got the phone...get him,".....that was all he needed to hear. Off he went in hot pursuit his brother the thief. Remy ran around the kitchen, into the living room and up the stairs with Rufus hot on his tail. I heard them running around upstairs and then stepped to the side as they thundered down the stairs. As Remy leaped off the fourth from the bottom step he stumbled slightly which gave Rufus the upper paw he needed. He tackled Remy and pulled him to the floor giving me the opportunity to pry open out little thief's mouth and retrieve the phone. I checked the phone and saw that Remy had mouth dialed a 919 number, which is a North Carolina exchange. I'm not sure who he knows there...but whomever it is, if you're reading this....Remy is grounded..no more phone for him.

He's Baaaaack!

You know the feeling. You’re fast asleep and suddenly a loud noise breaks the silence of the room and you bolt upright in bed. Well this morning at precisely 4:37 the loud noise emanated from Remington.  There I was sound asleep, deeply engrossed in a lovely dream. Donny Osmond and I were running on a beach. We stopped under a huge palm tree and Donny was just about to kiss me when a dog came out of nowhere and started barking at us…”GRRRRRRR WOOF WOOF” What? Wait a minute…a dog? I wasn’t dreaming anymore…that bark was familiar. Remington! I sat up in bed and peered around the dark room. There he stood at the bottom of the bed, staring across the room, barking his newly found big boy bark. It had returned…the dreaded mirror dog!  Remy has been after that dog ever since we brought him home.  Every so often we hear barking coming from our room. When we go upstairs we inevitably find him sitting on our bed, barking and growling at the mirror dog. Usually I laugh at him, throw a sheet over the mirror and the mirror dog disappears, along with the barking. Well this morning, after glancing at the clock and realizing it was just 4:37 I was not in a laughing mood. I shushed Remy and rolled over…he kept barking. I got up and threw the spare sheet I keep on hand for just this reason, over the mirror. He stopped. Whew! I climbed back into bed, moved Rufus so I could pull a small corner of the blankets out from under him and settled down to go back to sleep. “Grrrr….GRRRR…WOOF”…what the heck was he barking at now? I rolled over and looked at the bottom of the bed. There was Remy, lying flattened out on the bed....so flat in fact that he was almost two dimensional. He had slithered to the edge and his head was hanging down…..what on earth was he doing? I sat up and looked closer at the covered mirror. Apparently I hadn’t covered the whole thing…there was one tiny corner near the bottom that was exposed allowing the mirror dog to make his appearance yet again.  I got up, pulled the sheet down to cover the whole mirror and got back into bed. Within thirty seconds he was sound asleep, snoring..hogging my pillow.

Fly Little Birds, Fly

From the moment they are born, we are preparing our children to go out on their own. We teach them to stand on their own two feet as we hold their little chubby hands and guide them across the floor. We teach them they’ll get hurt if they stick knitting needles in electrical outlets (how many times did I say “NO” to Little Darling Number One when he did that?). We teach them how to get along in the world. We guide them, shape them, worry about them.  During the Terrible Twos we wish they’d just hurry up and grow up…during the Trying Teens we wonder if we will get out alive..but we do. We survive and so do they. I won’t say unscathed…but we do survive.  From the moment my sons were born, I was preparing them to go out into the world on their own.  Why is it then, that I forgot to prepare myself for the day that they would all be standing on their own feet…leaving the nest…out on their own? This weekend my buddy, our youngest…Little Darling Number Three is moving out and starting his life with a wonderful girl I think may be “the one”.  Two weeks ago Little Darling Number Two moved out to go back to school, yet again. He’s completed four years of university, two years training to be a Paramedic and now he’s studying computer something or other. He's on his way to something big.  Little Darling Number One moved out a few years ago and is now happily married and almost ready to start his own little family. On Monday, I will begin my life as an Empty Nester. I’ll have to learn to cook in smaller batches…we don’t need giant pans of lasagna or big pots of sweet and sour meatballs anymore. I’ll experience smaller grocery bills, smaller hydro bills, having hot water every time I step into the shower and a house that stays immaculate after I clean it, for the first time in 30 years. It all sounds wonderful and it’s something I’ve dreamed about for years…but I’m not ready for it. I want them to be home for a bit longer…I want the mess, the noise…I don’t like solitude. Everything in me is screaming…”Don’t go!!!”…but I know they have to. This is what I’ve been preparing them for…the rest of their lives await. Did I remember to teach them about cross walks? Did I forget to teach them anything important?  It’s too late now…they’re on their ways.  As each of them left, they took a little piece of my heart with them. I hope they know that whenever they need me, I'll be there for them, so will their dad. We'll be there, but somehow I think they're going to be just fine standing on their own two feet...after all, they've been being prepared for this from the moment they were born.


Boys as you make your ways out in the big world remember one thing….I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always…as long as I’m living my babies you’ll be! (Thank you Mr. Munsch).

The Boys vs The Snowpeople

A family of snowpeople has invaded our neighbourhood and the boys have taken it upon themselves to protect us all.

 This morning as we approached one of the houses in our neighbourhood, I felt Rufus' leash tighten slightly and then start to vibrate. I looked down at him and noticed he was standing on guard, looking up at the house and I heard a low rumble coming out of him. My gentle giant was growling a warning...but at whom?? It was then I noticed four snowpeople with bightly coloured scarves tied around their necks staring blankly back at us. The rumble started getting louder...Remy heard it and he jumped on top of Rufus who growled a loud warning at him..he meant business. Remy decided this was serious and he slid off Rufus and stood beside him, hackles up, staring at the snowpeople. Rufus started stamping his feet and barking at them...they didn't move. He lunged towards them almost dragging me off my feet..still the snowpeople stood their ground. Remy joined in with his higher pitched puppy bark....that didn't scare the brave snowpeople off either. Now I had both boys straining at the ends of their leashes, barking and growling and carrying on..it was all I could do to hang on. Suddenly my feet hit a patch of ice and down I went. I tried to hang on to their leashes but they got away from me and bolted towards the alien intruders. I was sure they were going to tackle the snow family and ruin the kids' work but they didn't..no, instead they simultaneously lifted their legs on the biggest of the snowpeople, melting him slightly and happily trotted back to me...mission accomplished. They showed them who's boss. So people of our town take note, you're safe from the threat of alien snowpeople...Rufus and Remy are on guard and they'll keep their bladders full :)

The Picky Pooper

My dog is a picky pooper. Rufus will not poop unless conditions are ideal. Now what constitutes ideal conditions is beyond me...I can't figure him out.  Take this morning for instance....we were walking along the road and he started that intense sniffing that signals, IT'S TIME! I stopped and waited. He sniffed...walked around...and sniffed some more. He started circling in ever decreasing circles...assumed the position...and then....started sniffing again. We walked a little further...he stopped again. This was it...he circled, sniffed, circled again. Suddenly he plunged deeper into the ditch in search of *the* perfect spot, dragging me behind him. He was a dog on a mission...intent on finding his special spot. I was a human with snow going into my boots. I tried to drag him out of the ditch and get him back on the road to make it easier to pick the poop....(because of course being a responsible dog owner, I do poop and scoop. Well I don't poop and scoop...my dogs poop, I scoop!) but he was having no part of that. He had finally found "it"...the spot. There he was perched on the other side of the deep ditch on top of a huge snowbank. He circled, circled again, humped over with a look of concentration on his face. Just then a bus full of elementary school kids went by with little laughing faces peering out at us through iced up windows. And poof..there went my dignity. Once he was finished it was my job to climb up onto the snowbank and retrieve the poop. I managed to get up there, but balancing while stooping and scooping was no small feat. I dug into my pocket and retrieved one of ever present vanilla scented poop bags, plunged my hand into it and bent to pick up the prize. This time I was lucky...my fingers stayed within the confines of the plastic bag..last time..oh never mind, that's another story.

No rhythm needed...you're kidding me

A month ago a friend of mine mentioned that Zumba classes were being offered in town and asked if I wanted to go with her. Game to try anything..once...I signed up before Christmas for the classes that were to start in the New Year. I've mentioned it to a few people over the past month and was told by everyone that the instructor's name is G.I. Jane...G.I. Jane? I had visions of a large military type woman barking orders at me while I struggled to complete just one push up. Uh oh..I talked myself out of the classes and was planning on bailing but my friend begged me to go with her. Yesterday was the big day and I was dreading it. I spent the day planning my escape..."My cell phone just rang...I have to go home, Remy ate the new kitten"..."My husband just called me and the house is on fire...gotta run....sorry I can't finish the class, G.I.". The dreaded hour arrived and my friend showed up at our door to pick me up..."Let's just get it over with," I thought...yup that's a great attitude!

We arrived at the Community Centre, took off our coats, put on our running shoes and entered a large room filled with giddy women. "I'm so glad we're back at this", one woman gushed to her friend as they walked past us. "Oh don't tell me we're the only newbies", I groaned. I scanned the room looking for our fearless leader...military girl G.I. Jane. I didn't see anyone wearing Fatigues..maybe she couldn't make it? Dare I hope? Then I heard a voice..."Welcome to the PARTYYYYY...let's goooooo" and into the middle of the group jumped a young woman wearing clothing that didn't even remotely resemble Fatigues. She started gyrating and moving around the room to the music....."Come on people..join in". Join in...join in what?? Wiggling and shaking my butt? I don't think so. I could break a hip.  "Who has been here before", our leader asked. Out of the 40 women in the room, 35 put up their hands. OK so there were five of us who had never done this before....good I wasn't alone. As Jane and the 35 experienced Zumbites shook what their Mama's gave them....we five newbies stood shivering in the cold room.  Picture deer caught in headlights. "Just feel the music..you don't need rhythm..just move", chirped one of the participants as she Zumba-ed past us.  We looked at each other, shrugged and stepped out onto the floor. Well without going into painful details, I'll tell you I lived through the night but I discovered something about myself in the process. I am not one of the Jackson Five's long lost relatives..I am not one of Gladys Knight's pips...ie I have no rhythm. While others moved sensuously through the steps, I lurched and stumbled around the room. When the group moved left, I moved right. When they swirled and twirled, the rubber on my shoe caught on the floor and I fell.  When Jane told me to "feel the music", I felt a cramp starting in my left calf.  I stuck with it though and made it to the end of the class. I was sweaty and hot but I finished it. I am proud of myself for not bailing. I'm hoping over the next 8 weeks that I can find my inner goddess and learn to move more sensuously. I'm not aiming for Beyonce or Shakira...I just don't want to be compared to the Fresh Prince's cousin Carlton!

Merry Christmas

Someone once said, "Never work with children or animals"....

We begin our photo shoot....

Remy would rather eat the hat than wear it.

Then the Tug of War started

And the wrestling match begins....

Trying again...if I can just get Remy to sit still...wait a minute...what's the good son doing? Chewing his hat while I'm distracted by Devil Dog!

If I eat the hat, the photo shoot ends!

Uh oh...coal in your stocking this year, Remy!

Then we moved outside....Rufus is staying still...Remy not so much.

Rufus still staying in position...Remy about to leap up at the camera

OK..Rufus posing with his hat....and Remy ('nough said)


Wishing you a joyous Christmas season filled with love and special memories. 

Rufus Comes Home

We're always late...always! It's impossible for us to be on time..but you can bet we were on time on February 7, 2008. That was Rufus Day...the day we finally brought our new puppy home. The day I hoped the house would stop feeling cold and empty.

We arrived at Vicki's promptly at 11. We were there at exactly 11 a.m. because we had actually arrived at 10:30 and parked down the road, waiting until the designated time. We were pathetic! I tried to appear calm and cool but I'm pretty sure Vicki saw through the act...I was Jello on the inside. We sat in her living room as she went through a binder full of information with us. Vaccination schedules, food options, puppy training classes. I didn't hear any of it! My brain kept screaming..."Uh huh...very nice...GO GET OUR PUPPY". Finally after what seemed like hours, Vicki said..."So I'll go get him"...."What did she say," I thought, "Go get him?" Finally!!! Steve and I stood together in silence...waiting. I heard Vicki's footsteps on the wooden stairs as she came back upstairs. The basement door opened...a light shone from the heavens and angels sang, Hallelujah! There he was..our Rufus....the light coloured puppy (remember in yesterday's post I said I didn't want the light puppy?)...did I care at that moment? No! He was the most beautiful sight in the world to me Vicki walked over and handed him to me. I gathered him in my arms and held him tight, drinking in that luscious puppy smell. I buried my face in his neck and I cried. He pulled away and looked right into my eyes...we connected at that very second, my Rufus and I. He knew I needed him. He knew he had a job to do. He saw a heart that had been broken and he knew he had to mend it. There right on the spot, I felt my heart healing..the pieces that had been shattered by the loss of Shamaya were fitting themselves back together. I looked at Steve and he had tears in his eyes....he knew what had just happened. He knew he had helped to put the joy back in my heart. I will be forever grateful to my husband for putting my needs over his own fear of loving and losing yet another friend. He knew he would have to go through that pain again some time in the distant future when we lay Rufus to rest but he was willing to do it all again so I could have a dog. That's love, folks!

On the drive home Rufus looked out the window and watched as his big new world zoomed past him.  Finally we arrived home..and a new chapter of our lives began. The chapter I like to call "The Golden Years"...get it? Within minutes of arriving home with Rufus we noticed something changed...the house warmed up. It was filled with sounds and smells of puppy again...it was filled with puppy love!

And they called it...Puppy Love

Rufus becomes Rufus

It was a long eight weeks to have to wait until we could bring Rufus home. We did get to visit the puppies twice...but oh my, twice was not enough!! I would have been much happier with daily visits..but the two visits we had were wonderful. We saw the puppies when they were three weeks old and again when they were five weeks old. They were so warm and soft and cuddly. We had no idea which puppy was going to be Rufus when we visited them, so we cuddled them all.  Our breeder gives potential puppy parents a questionnaire to fill out and she does temperament tests on the pups before they go to their new homes.  Based on answers and puppy personality, she then matches the puppy and the parents she feels would be best together. I'm glad Vicki handles placing puppies this way...I couldn't have chosen one over the others. I noticed two of the boys were darker than the other one and I made a mental note to myself that I hoped we didn't get the lighter one because I liked the darker colour. Gotcha' Day was set for February 7th and we were to arrive at 11 a.m. On the Thursday before we were to go pick Rufus up, we received a phone call from Vicki. She had some news...uh oh!  She had noticed the puppy she really felt would be the best match for us sometimes had trouble getting his back legs under him to stand up on all fours. He "swam" a lot as he struggled to get up. She had taken him to a specialist that day to find out why and had been told that one of the bones in his rear right leg was a fraction shorter than the same bone in the left leg. The vet believed it would correct itself as he grew up but if it didn't there was a surgery that could be done when he was older. Then came the million dollar question...did we want to take a chance it would correct itself, or take one of the other puppies? Since we were the first to reserve a male, we got first "right of refusal". I hung up the phone and went to tell Steve what Vicki had said...and I prayed. I knew vet bills could be astronomical..did we really want to start off with a puppy that was less than perfect from the beginning? We decided in 30 seconds...we trusted Vicki's judgment...if she thought he was the right puppy for us, we would take our chances. Deep down we knew he'd be fine..we just knew.  I called Vicki back, told her we'd go with "Gimpy" and she promised to send a picture within a few minutes. Now it's time for you all to go.....awwwww! I checked my email a few minutes and this is what I found....

Can you guess which one is Rufus?

Happy Birthday My Sweet Rufus

On November 9, 2008 our Malamute girl Shamaya passed away suddenly at the age of ten years. She had a tumor on her spleen that ruptured...we had no clue whatsoever what had been brewing in her body. I was awakened at 5:30 a.m. on that Sunday morning to her yelping, struggling to stand up and by 9 a.m. we were standing in the vet's office being told she was dying and there was nothing that could be done. I remember staring at our vet in disbelief...he had to be wrong...it couldn't be....she was fine yesterday...how can this be? I wanted to run out of the vet's office...take Shamaya and run home...I wanted to scream..I wanted to smack the messenger! I wanted to be angry...instead I bent over my girl lying on the table and I looked into her eyes. She was ready to go...her life was slowly slipping away. As the two people who loved her most we helped her across the Rainbow Bridge. I remember driving home with Steve..both of us crying. He told me he didn't ever want another dog. "We've been through this so many times...I can't lose anymore friends," he said through tears. My heart broke into a million pieces...not have a dog??? I've always had a dog. My parents raised German Shepherds...we had dogs ever since I was 5 years old. When Steve and I got married, we talked about having a dog as soon as we could afford one. My parents gave us our first wonderful dog, Bear when Little Darling Number Two was three months old and we had at least one dog from that day on. Not have a dog???? Dogs are like air to me...I had to have a dog...but I couldn't force things. I knew I had to give him time to heal from the devastation of losing Shamaya. I prayed it wouldn't take him long to heal and change his mind. We went home that day, dogless and we lived dogless for a week. The house felt cold and empty. There was no dog hair to vacuum, no muddy footprints to wash off the floor...no sweet white face waiting at the window when we came home...no warm neck to snuggle when the snow started falling. A week after we lost Shamaya, I started dropping hints that maybe we could think about getting a puppy...just think. Not to replace Shamaya, we could never do that, but to help fill the hole that was left in our hearts. Steve was reluctant but he said, "Maybe we could look"...those were the words I had been praying for...."look"... I knew what that meant!!  Our sons claimed Golden Retrievers were the quintessential "old person dog" so we figured since we were now entering that "old person decade", it was time to consider this breed. I started researching Golden breeders and came across one site that caught my attention. The breeder seemed educated, knowledgeable and caring....and then I saw the picture of Neo (aka Big Daddy). Neo was by far the handsomest boy I had ever laid eyes on...and he had sired a litter that was due to be born in a few weeks. I showed Steve the pictures on Vicki's site and he said, "Well we could go see her and meet the dogs"....that was all I needed. I made an appointment and the following weekend we sat in Vicki's living room surrounded by Goldens...with Neo leading the pack in welcoming us. I was in love. That day was intended to be a "gathering information day"...we left having given Vicki a deposit for a male puppy out the of the expected litter. Now we just had to wait and see if in fact mom, Eva had a male puppy. We decided on a name before we even knew our puppy had been born. His registered name would be Animation's I Have a Dream.....and his call name would be Rufus. Three weeks later while Christmas shopping on December 13th we received an email on Steve's Blackberry. The subject line read..."Puppies have arrived". Steve handed me the Blackberry so I could read the message...."Three boys....", that's all I remember seeing...THREE BOYS.  Our Rufus had arrived.

**To be continued

Have you checked your toilet today?

Someone in this house is in cahoots with a plumber. When the kids were little and Fisher Price people ended up jammed in the toilet we knew who to blame. The day Steve had to lift the toilet off the floor to remove half a pound of cheese and a bunch of drywall screws from the plumbing system, we knew the culprit was about 2 1/2 feet tall, had dark brown hair, brown eyes and spoke with a New York accent ("I like to fwush caws in da terlit")..Little Darling Number One had a thing for toilets. Fast forward to modern day....within the past couple weeks I have found a slipper, a Nylabone and the Baby Jesus in the toilet. Since the human boys who still live at home are at work during the day and Steve travels every week, I had narrowed the culprit list down to two. Yesterday the perp (I watch too many crime shows) was revealed when I caught Remy red pawed dropping a large pine cone into the toilet. Thankfully I saw it before the toilet was flushed, thus averting the need for a plumber with Steve being away this week. The new rule in our house is the toilet lid must be down at all times....that should work...until Remy figures out how to lift it up.

What's YOUR favourite popsicle flavour?

I stood at the kitchen sink, sipping my coffee and watching the boys play in the snow in the backyard this morning. I smiled as I watched them leap around...tails wagging furiously. I noticed Rufus biting at Remy's face and realized Remy had a ball in his mouth that was actually the object of Rufus' desire. Remy took off at breakneck speed across the yard with Rufus in hot pursuit. Rufus caught up, rolled Remy in the snow and grabbed the ball...wait a minute.."When did we acquire a brown ball?" I thought. Uh oh...what did he have...was it a rock, a piece of charcoal out of the BBQ? These questions resulted in the need for closer inspection on my part. I donned the big sized 13 boots that Steve had left parked at the back door and shuffled out into the deep snow. As I approached, Rufus stuck his butt in the air, still holding the prize in his mouth, then ran towards me...just short of my feet he shot to one side and took off with Remy following him. They flew around the yard and ignored my "DROP IT" and "COME" commands! Rufus eventually stumbled and dropped the ball...Remy scooped it up and started tossing it in the air and catching it as he trotted around the yard. As he passed by me, he tossed it again and I realized it wasn't a ball...nor was it a rock or a piece of charcoal...it was a poopsicle! Frozen pieces of dog poop are magical treats for our boys. I usually go on Poop Patrol as soon as one of them goes but in the winter when the wind is howling and the snow is blowing, I have been known to leave it for a few hours and go out and pick up several at a time. Rufus discovered the frozen poop delicacy last winter and has taught his little brother well. Remy was so happy carrying that frozen turd around in his mouth...I didn't have the heart to make him give it up. So I let him keep it and came back in the house...reminding myself to brush their teeth when they came in! Note to anyone visiting out house this winter....it might be a good idea not to let the boys kiss you ;)

Who Needs Sex Toys?

This morning started off like every other morning...I got up before the birds to let the boys out and get their breakfast ready. While they ate, I put the coffee on and fired up my trusty laptop so I could check my emails. Suddenly from upstairs came a blood curdling scream. I bolted upstairs not sure what I'd find once I got there! As I rounded the corner into our bedroom I saw Steve sitting up in bed holding a dustpan. A dustpan you ask? Yes a dustpan! Apparently he had rolled over onto the sharp edge and impaled himself. Why would normal, sane people sleep with a dustpan in their bed? WE don't...Remy does...he likes to hide his toys in our bed. We often find his favourite stuffed monkey in there, or his bones...the odd antler has turned up between the sheets..but today was the first time he put the dustpan in there. Along with the dustpan were two half chewed, smelly old bones and a spoon. Now I ask you people...who needs sex toys???

The Dyanmic Duo vs. Turkeys

Is flock the right word...is it a flock of turkeys? A gaggle of turkeys...no that's geese? Wait...GOOGLE!! OK just googled it...it's a flock. I needed to know that so I could tell you about our latest hike..and the flock of turkeys who are probably still gobbling about the Dynamic Duo.

We are blessed to be surrounded by perfect surroundings for happy Golden boys to run in wide open spaces and hike along trails that wind through interesting bush where there are lots of smells and things to investigate. The boys and I hit the trails every day..rain or shine. Sometimes I change things up so they don't get bored but we always end up with running in the field. Yesterday our hike took an interesting turn when we rounded a bend in the field and before us stood a huge flock of wild turkeys! There must have been 25 of the "so ugly they're cute "critters. I stopped and stood there not knowing what to expect from the two hunting dogs at my side. Rufus froze...and stared at the birds ...Remy, sensing something exciting was about to happen moved to stand beside Big Brother. They stood frozen...absolutely still...not a whisker moved..I'm pretty sure they even held their collective breaths. The birds didn't seem to notice us..they kept lurching around, pecking at the ground..all of a sudden one stopped and looked up. It locked eyes with Rufus...GOBBLE!!! I think that was his way of warning the rest of the flock...and I'm sorry I can't really describe the noise it made..suffice it to say, the flock knew what Tom was saying and they scattered. Well that was the signal...Rufus ran towards them gathering speed as he moved forward..with Remy right behind him. Some of the turkeys went to the left..the boys followed for a few steps..some went to the right, the boys ran a few steps after them...and one went straight. Well that one had to be the one who was going to be dinner!! The boys chased it into the bush...tails wagging furiously. I heard branches cracking and the frantic rustling of leaves..... I didn't know what to expect when they emerged a couple of minutes later but certainly wasn't expecting what I saw...Rufus came trotting out of the bush with a stick in his mouth and Remy held a Tim Horton's cup! Yes folks, that's right...I am the proud mom of two hunting dogs who strike fear in the hearts of sticks and garbage wherever they go! ;)

Have a wonderful weekend...enjoy some family time, make some memories and if you haven't already done so...hug your dog!

Afternoon Delight? Not in this house.

Hubby was able to catch an early flight home from Chicago the other day and surprised me by coming home mid-afternoon. So what do you suppose we two "young" lovers did with the time alone in the empty house? Time to grab a little Afternoon Delight! The boys were sound asleep on the couch so we sneaked up to the bedroom, turned on the iPod, closed the curtains and got busy. There we were in the throes of passion..hubby panting..me moaning and.... COWBUNGA!! My eyes flew open, expecting to gaze into the eyes of my beloved, instead I was looking into the eyes of Rufus who had decided to join the party. He stood over me..smiling. "Well that's great..I guess we're not going to be doing anything today," Steve muttered. "No no..it's OK...keep going," I panted. "OK but......ahhhhhhh"..Remy had decided he wanted in on the fun too and had latched into hubby's big toe. "Remy...NO...let go...drop it," Steve yelled flailing about on the bed. "Stop yelling at him...he's just playing....I'll find something to distract them," I got up and found a couple of bones to occupy the boys so we could get back to business. Once they were settled down chewing on their bones, we turned our attentions to "other things". There we were..Barry White playing on the iPod, the scent of candles filling the air...and Rufus digging at the blankets...wait how did he get back in the picture? Sensing we were about get romantic he had jumped back onto the bed. "Just ignore him...he'll go away," I whispered. We tuned back into each other and....Remy tunneled under the blankets, popped up by my head and yanked the clip out of my hair..taking a small clump of hair with him. "Owwww," I screeched, turning my head away from the source of pain. WHAM..my head bounced off Steve's chin causing him to clamp his teeth together and bite his tongue! "OK that's it," he said..."these boys need to leave. You take Rufus, I'll take Remy..they're going out into the hall." As I reached for Rufus he wriggled away from me..."Grab him," I yelled. Steve, who by the way was naked, dove for Rufus who slipped out of his grasp and jumped back onto the bed sending pillows and blankets flying. "OK then grab Remy," I said. Easier said than done. Remy dove under the bed and slithered along until he was out of reach. While under there he discovered Little Darling #3's cat, who despises him. War was declared and the chase was on. Kitty flew out from under the bed...Remy slithered out, in hot pursuit. Kitty ran towards the door but seeing that it was closed, she darted towards the dresser and jumped up onto it....Remy followed sending pictures and knick knacks flying. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Rufus lunged after Kitty shoving his nose into her face. Kitty screeched and scratched him, forcing him to retreat. Calm settled over the bedroom for a brief moment. I stood half dressed and looked around the room at the havoc that had been wreaked. The bed looked like someone had enjoyed themselves, unfortunately it wasn't us. Steve lay bleeding from his self inflicted mouth wound, Remy stood perched on the dresser barking at the puppy in the mirror and Rufus lay on the bed licking his scratched nose while Barry sang..."Let's Get it On" from the iPod. Maybe next time, Barry...but first we'll send the boys to Grandma's.

No..I Have NOT Started Yet!

I heard my first Christmas carol of the year while shopping in Walmart on October 30th. Ads have started popping up on TV, the Shopping Channel is flogging toys and electronics as the "perfect holiday gifts" and Santa arrives at the mall in two weeks...it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Would you believe I've actually had a couple of people ask me if I've started my shopping yet? It drives me crazy!! To say I love Christmas is an understatement.... I adore Christmas. I love the baking, the planning, the shopping... I love the time spent with my family. I love going to the Santa Claus parade (the one in the big city because that's the only one the real Santa attends)..love, love, love attending the Christmas service at the church where we got married thirty years ago. I love the snow, love the smells...love everything about Christmas. But please..I beg of you..don't ask me if I've started shopping any time before December 23rd. I am a last minute shopper. Oh I've tried many, many times to start early..it doesn't work. I buy things, then second guess myself, return them and start over again. I need the pressure of being under the gun..I need to know that if I don't get it done...NOW!...it's going to be too late! I need the hustle and bustle of the crowded mall to jump start me into gear and get me going. It's like the call of the wild to a wolf..it's inbred...no wait, not inbred...inborn. I am a procrastinator. I don't know why...my mother is the furthest thing from a procrastinator. I'm pretty sure I drive her nuts! She starts planning in May, shopping in June and is usually finished everything by July 1st. She calls me annually around August 15th and asks what we're having for Christmas dinner...just so she can figure out what to bring. "What??? You don't have the Christmas menu planned yet???" she asks, obviously shocked even though my answer is always the same..."No Mother I haven't figured Christmas dinner out yet..I'll get on it in a couple of months." Nope...the procrastination didn't come through those bloodlines! While the rest of you are sitting by your trees on Christmas Eve, sipping hot chocolate and listening to Christmas carols, secure in the knowledge that your shopping is complete and everything is wrapped and ready..I will be rushing out to the variety store to buy disposable razors and gum for the boys' stockings (the human boys). It's tradition...just like your turkey and the strings of popcorn and cranberries on your tree..I wouldn't dare change it!

To Catch a Thief

The boys after our run

I have raised a thief. Actually if I think back..I've raised two thieves. Years ago when Little Darling #2 was about 2 1/2 years old, he and I were out shopping one day. As we went through the checkout line he spied a package of bubble gum and begged me to buy it for him. Slightly harried I denied his request and turned my attention back to paying for groceries. A little while later we were in the bathroom at McDonald's and as I helped him pull his pants back up I felt something crinkle in his pocket. "What's this?", I asked him...."Nothin'," he answered turning away from me so I couldn't put my hand in his pocket to see what was in there. OK now that's a sign that something was up! I persisted and discovered the package of gum he had coveted in the store.  After explaining why it was wrong to take the gum..I insisted we go back to the store and he tell the lady what he had done My little blonde headed boy's lip quivered as he stood before the dour looking lady and said..."I took 'dis..sowwy." He looked very apologetic indeed and I knew he had learned his lesson. Now the second thief I have raised isn't so apologetic. Rufus steals gloves. He steals gloves from little old ladies in wheelchairs. He steals gardening gloves from the elderly man down the road every time we stop to say hello. Knowing his penchant for gloves..we are always on guard when we wear gloves. Wait did I say "always"?? Yesterday I took the boys for run in the big field near our house. I was walking through the field keeping an eye out  for skunks and not paying attention...WOOOOSH....Rufus ran past me at the speed of light. He slyly grabbed the glove off my hand and took off at warp speed across the field with Remy in hot pursuit. "Rufus.....Rooooofus...RUFUS COME," I yelled. I saw him look over his shoulder at me....SMILE....and keep running! I noticed they were headed for the swamp....."Oh Rufus NO...not the swamp," I yelled. SPLASH...a wall of water sprayed up drenching Remy. Rufus continued to dash through the swamp...this way and that with my red glove hanging out of his mouth. Now for those of you who have Goldens...maybe you know what's coming next...but for the uninitiated, I'll explain. Water equals excitement for my Goldens and excitement equals...ZOOMIES! They run...they run fast. They zoom, zig and zag, leaving uprooted grass, trees and the occasional person in their wake. They completely lose control of themselves and go berserk. So there I stood in the middle of the field with the wet,smelly swamp things racing past me spraying me with swamp water. When it was finally over...Rufus promptly dropped onto a dead animal carcass and rolled around on his back...with my now soaking wet red glove still in his mouth. I approached him and told him to give me the glove...."Rufus...drop the glove....Rufus...get up and give me the glove...Buddy...give me the g....." off he went again. Apparently the zoomies weren't over..he was just taking a break to roll in the irresistible dead thing. He ran around the field for several more minutes while Remy and I stood aside and watched the show. When it was over...Rufus calmly walked up to me, dropped the glove at my feet and sat in front of me so I could clip his leash to his collar. The three of us started to walk home....soaked through to the skin, wreaking of swamp water. As we rounded the corner and headed towards home, Remy jumped up and stole my glove. And so begins the career of another glove thief.

The Dynamic Duo vs. Trick or Treaters

Halloween is over but for two children who came to our door last night, the memory will live on in their minds for years to come. We rarely get trick or treaters at our door because we live in an area where the driveways are fairly far apart. Kids don't want to trek up and down the road for 30 minutes and cover 20 houses when they can go into town and hit 100 houses in the same amount of time. This year however, two little boys and their mom decided to cover our road. At about 6:15 the door bell rang. Now the doorbell ringing may not be cause for celebration in your house...but in our house party hats are donned and noise makers are brought out...the doorbell means people are here to play with Rufus and Remy. I opened the door to see two boys around 5 and 7 years of age standing on the other side. Mom lurked on the other side of the gate we have at the top of the porch steps. The eldest of the two boys had a mask on his face and his little brother wore a long cape and make up. Big Brother opened his mouth..."Trick or Tr......" he didn't get to finish his sentence. Remy jumped on the screen door, knocking the screen out onto the porch floor. Rufus saw the massive opening as his opportunity to escape and investigate our visitors up close and personal. He darted through the hole left by the screen and ran over to Big Brother who backed up against the brick wall...screaming. "It's OK..he won't hurt you," I said as I reached for Rufus' collar. Rufus jerked away from me intent on grabbing the mask off the kid. Meanwhile, behind me I heard another scream. I glanced over my shoulder to see Little Brother being tackled by Remy who had discovered the long cape. As Little Brother tried desperately to stay on his feet, Remy grabbed the bottom of the cape and ran to the other end of the porch, dragging Little Bro screaming behind him. By this time, Mom had catapulted over the gate to rescue her youngins. As she pulled the cape out of Remy's mouth, I heard a ripping sound...the kid started crying. Turning my attention back to Rufus and Big Brother, I saw Rufus heading back through the door opening with the mask in his mouth. Now, Big Brother is standing in stunned silence...Little Brother is quietly crying and Mom is glaring at me. I smile lamely at them all and wish them a Happy Halloween. I somehow doubt they'll be back next year.