Archive | Pictures RSS feed for this section

The Cone of Shame

13 Nov

For the past week Denny has been diligent in ensuring that his rump is completely devoid of fur.  He has a hot spot that he can’t seem to leave alone.  The poor thing.  His rear is bold, red and angry.  (There’s an infant reference in there somewhere.)  He treats his rear like he treats his feet:  they are precious entities that must be defended against invaders at all costs.  This translates into him growling, snarling and basically looking like a bad ass anytime someone even stares thoughtfully at one of his forbidden areas.  It’s ridiculous.  After multiple doggy medications, I’ve settled on a hot spot gel for dogs.  It seems to work when he doesn’t manage to lick it off or rub it off on the carpet.  (Just imagine him lying on his back having an epileptic fit.  It’s hilarious and pathetic at the same time.)

This morning I finally broke down and drug out the Cone of Shame.  It’s been hiding in my closet since Denny suffered the indignity of being neutered a few years ago.  Somehow he seemed to have forgotten the horrible memories associated with the cone.  That is, until I tried to snap it around his neck.  Then it turned into a calf-roping rodeo where the calf had a lot of sharp teeth and the rope was a flimsy plastic piece of uncooperative crap.  Seriously.  This thing did not want to bend to my will and it definitely didn’t want to bend to fit around Denny’s neck.  It was a freak show that was thankfully only witnessed by Lemon,  our Dachshund, and our fish.  The fish did seemed to be a bit more wide-eyed than usual when I left for work.  I imagined that they were laughing and rightfully so.

I must admit that I am slightly afraid of what I’ll come home to.  Perhaps Lemon will be missing and the only clue to her location will be a note in her food bowl that has been snipped from magazines.  REMOVE THE CONE AND THE DACHSHUND WILL BE RETURNED UNHARMED.  ALSO, I NEED A BELLY RUB.

We shall see.  *fingers crossed*

Election 2012

6 Nov


I got up early this morning to be at the polls as soon as they opened to vote. It was a brisk 36 degrees outside and I neglected to bring my coffee. Needless to say, It was a looong wait in the cold. However, waiting in such a long, cold line gave me a greater sense of fulfillment than if I had just skipped in and out in under a few minutes. I didn’t just vote, I VOTED. (All caps because of the wait and the weather.)

As a Georgia native, I missed walking away from the polls with the classic Peach Voter Sticker. I miss that little peach.  I was really hoping for something Native American on my Oklahoma sticker or maybe even a scene from the land rush.  I know, the sticker isn’t the important part.  (But a Sooner Schooner sticker sure would have complimented my sweater today.)  *wink*

Sticker preferences aside, please get out there and do your part by voting today. No excuses. Just because you don’t live in a swing state does not mean that you shouldn’t go vote. Every vote counts. Remember, you’re not just voting for the President of the United States.  There are also other important state questions and state positions to be voted for.

On the hook

20 Sep

image

On the hook this week….a Post & Shells scarf.  This one I may have to keep for myself.

*** Post Update ***

This pattern worked up beautifully!  I used Caron Simply Soft, which gave it wonderful drape.

On snap! More sports, yo.

8 Apr

Apparently years of bragging about being allergic to sports has come back to bite me in the butt.  And oh what a lovely little bite it is.  As you all know the kids have taken to playing softball in the back yard.  They’re great at it, especially running around the imaginary bases they’ve created in their minds.  Then this week one of the mom’s of Fisher’s friends e-mailed me about a informally soccer team she was putting together.  Nothing serious, just a couple of boys playing soccer for fun and exercise.  Thus yesterday I stopped by our local sports retailer to pick up some shin guards and other soccer-y things.  Fisher was super excited…until he remember that it was 90 degrees outside.

Thankfully the heat didn’t slow him down.  The wind was blowing hard as usual and after a quick pep talk he was deep in the thick of things.

After thirty minutes of practice the kid split into teams to play.  It wasn’t long before the constant running and heat made them beg to play goalie, if only for a few minutes.  Thus the goalie position was held by all throughout the course of the evening.

They took a quick break fifteen minutes in and I pounced on the opportunity to document Fisher’s awesomeness.  Gosh-darnit, his shin guards and cleats make him look so grown.  [tear]  My little man is not so little anymore.  (Although he has retained the childhood ability to whip out a fake smile when a camera is presented.  What’s up with kids and cameras?)

They last half of the game was fierce but thankfully passed without incident.  I could not have been more proud of Fisher last night.  For someone who is so shy and reserved he really put himself out there and gave his best.  (Dudes, I know. I’m getting a bit emotional here.)

Once the game was over he spent the rest of the night drinking everything in sight.  Juice.  Water.  Watered down soda from earlier in the day.  Heck, I’m pretty sure he would have hit up the dog bowl if he’d thought of it.

All that said, we’ve got five more weeks of Thursday night soccer games and Fishman couldn’t be more excited.  And neither could I.  For a short while I’ll get to refer to myself as a soccer mom even if I don’t meet all the requirements.  Anyone got a mini-van covered in soccer ball decals I can borrow?

Hey battah, battah. [wink]

6 Apr

The creepy-crawly drama continued deep into the night last night as it was discovered that Fisher too had a tiny army of his own camped out in his hair.  Albeit a small army, probably due to the length of his hair.  Thank goodness.  It only took me about 30 minutes to sift through his follicles as opposed to the three years it took me to go through Jaden’s luscious locks of long-ness.  (Alliteration, anyone?)  Hopefully the sun rose on a new era this morning, one that will hopefully be free of lice and any other annoying right of childhood passage.

That said, let’s talk ball.  Jaden and Fisher have discovered softball and boy to they love it.  Who knew?  I was the least athletically inclined child when I was in school, thus I’m pleasantly surprised to find that my children actually like playing sports.  Score one for exercise!

It's a fierce kind of stare.

Can anyone spot the flying ball? I think it's that smudge in the middle.

Besides having a bit of difficulty with maintaining a proper stance, the kids seem to be naturals.  Which means that we’ll need to get some protective gear for Jordan’s mom soon.  She’s the only one that can pitch well and it will only be a matter of time before she gets hit square between the eyes.  Oh, sports.

I'm pretty sure you need your eyes to be open to hit the ball.

 

It’s a serious sort of game.

Afternoon games of soft ball originated from a desire to find an outlet for the copious amounts of energy Fisher has.  The kid never slows down.  Nehhh-ver.  [eye twitch]  Thankfully it is working like a charm.  The only problem is that it is all he wants to do now.  And I haven’t learned how to saute onions and pitch at the same time.  I know…what kind of mom am I?

Denny has also discovered a love of softball.  Namely because he sees it as game of flying dog toys.  Ooo…flying ball!  I got it, I got it, I got it!!  The problem is not that he can’t catch…he’s a great catcher…it’s just that he won’t throw it back.  Or even walk it back.  He mainly just runs around the yard in circles with it as we chase him.  I don’t think he’ll be making the final cut.

 

Boobs!

Lemon couldn’t care less about the game.  As long as she has boobs to nuzzle up to she’s content.  It’s a hard life.

 

I've got form, yo!

After watching the kids whack balls across the back yard for a couple of days curiosity got the best of me.  Having never played softball before, I decided that now would be the perfect time to give it a try.  And dudes I actually hit it!  (…and almost hit my mother-in-law.)  I only took a few swings due to the apparent dangers of me holding a bat, but they were all beautiful.  (Is that right?  Can you refer to sports as beautiful?  I’m sure men everywhere are cringing right now.)

So if you’re not doing anything this weekend, drive over to great state of Oklahoma…which may soon be renamed Wind-klahoma…for a game of ball.  It’s sure to be fun.

The joys of I-35

7 Feb

The race was on this past Saturday.  The snow would soon start to melt and that meant that most of the town would be on a mission to go sledding.  Thus we got up early on Saturday to hit the slopes and claim a spot before it got too crowded.  “But, Raine.  Oklahoma is so flat?  Wherever did you find slopes?”  Funny you should ask.  You see the State is largely flat.  However I-35 that runs through the heart of town provides the perfect area for sledding.  Wherever you find a bridge crossing over the Interstate, you have steep slopes.  So we spent a large part of the day sledding down I-35.  What better weekend entertainment could you ask for?

Never before have I worn so many clothes.  (Try that out as a pickup line!)  With below freezing temperatures and the plan for rolling about in the snow all day, we layered up like cake.  (Terrible metaphor, I know.)  The kids have never had so much fun and neither have I.  It was a first time experience for us and we reveled in ever moment of it.  It wasn’t long before the kids were on their stomachs, rocketing down the slopes head first into certain collapse at the bottom.  They didn’t care.

We tried out ever conceivable way to sled down the slopes, some more successful than others.  This particular position was fantastic for launching the kids into oblivion once we hit a large mound of snow near the bottom.  Of course, I only did it once.  I’m not sure if you can tell, but it wasn’t my favorite position for sledding.  [wink]

Sadly by Sunday temperatures rose into the 40’s and most of the slopes had shed their snow by mid-afternoon.  There were a few desperate children still out there trying to hit patches of snow where they could find them, but they were few and far between.  We will however have another chance for sledding this weekend as we’re scheduled for another winter storm this week.  An estimated 4-10 inches or more of snow will arrive on Wednesday.  Color me happy.  (Not.)  ;]

Bow-chicka-wow-wow

5 Jan

Normally I am the type who, during the holidays, spends most of the holiday behind a camera.  You don’t get to experience much of the actually holiday behind a camera, however you do get to look at what you missed later on.  So it’s not too bad of a trade-off.  This year, however, I decided to heck with the camera.  I took a few shots here and there, but I mostly soaked up all the holiday-ness I could manage.  (Which turned out to be less than I had thought.  Holidays are stressful.  [wink])

Anywho, I did manage a few goods shots from the few pictures I took.  Can anyone guess where we are?  Why, we’re at my mother’s cat ranch!  (Okay, it’s not a ranch.  It is at her ranch style house…so that kind of makes it a cat “ranch.”)  I won’t say how many cats she has, for fear that someone will label her the crazy cat lady preemptively.  Everyone knows you don’t go crazy until your eighties, so she’s good for now.

This particular cat loves Jordan’s chin.  More specifically his stubble.  Oh how she longs for him to grow something worthy of Grizzly Adams.  If only.  [sigh]  I am sure that she’d tried to make kittens with his chin if only she hadn’t been spayed as a young cat.  Curses, birth control.  (Well, that and chins can’t give birth to kittens.  It’s a sad fact of this world.)

I’ve got some other spiffy shots I’ll try to post later in the week.  But for now I’ll leave you with the image of a cat trying to mate with my husband’s chin.

You’re welcome.