A list of gifts to give your friends. If you don’t ever want them to speak to you again that is….
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Repeat after me, ” I will not buy River a dog’s ass pillow for her birthday or Christmas. Not now. Not ever. ”
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Seriously? Like I don’t have enough guilt reaching for those two extra slices of cheese as it is.
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Why.
Why in the world would anyone want to walk around in a baguette? I’ve been to France and had them fresh from the boulangerie. They are made to sop up sauce, be covered in jam or smothered in cheese… not your nasty foot funk.
Since skunking my husband at Scrabble has become a weekly pastime… I decided to up our game.
Literally.
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Bigger tiles for the where the hell did I leave my reading glasses now? visually challenged due to encroaching decrepitude crowd.
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And a much bigger, fancier, wooden, swiveling board with raised ridges to keep the letters in place.
How much bigger?
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Well, the box said giant and that’s a pretty apt description.
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So far we’re loving it.
But I’m afraid it’s going to have to be a permanent decorative fixture… because if you think the board is big, you should see the friggin’ enormous box it came in.
Two full days in and we managed to get the new kitty out from under the china hutch.
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Granted it was just to under the coffee table, but that’s progress.
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I don’t think he was thrilled to have a close up portrait taken, but I’ve got news for him. You can’t be camera shy and live in this house. Momma’s got a blog to write.
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At the end of the third day he made it out into the open.
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And he really is a love bug once he feels comfortable.
I think it’s going to be a good fit, he just needs a little time.
I saw a list of things you should buy your significant other to show how much you love them yesterday. And while none of these products fit that bill…. they did make me chuckle at the thought of owning them and putting them in the barn bar.
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Come on, you know that will come in handy someday.
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Bar mascot? It could be.
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Maybe if I get the husband one of these he can practice on pizza for his next remodel project. Eating those mistakes will be a lot more enjoyable than staring at his construction errors for the next 20 years.
I wasn’t exaggerating the last week when I said I cried after giving the stray cat back to his owners. It was strange… I knew it was the right thing. I knew I had to do it. I knew he would be loved and well cared for. But when I was at the sink washing out the cat dishes? I kind of lost it.
I’m a huge animal lover and have had a houseful of pets all my life… up until two years ago when we lost our last cat (he was 26!) and the husband said no more pets because he wanted to retire and travel freely. I understood, and I didn’t argue… but I hated the feeling of an empty house. So when that little guy wandered in? He stole my heart immediately. I was complete.
For 6 whole days, then I was bereft.
And bless my husband’s heart, even though I know he didn’t want to… he broke down and suggested we go to a shelter and rescue a kitty.
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I honestly didn’t know I could get dressed and out the door that fast…. but I broke my record and was waiting in the car before he could change his mind.
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We drove north to PALS. ( Protection for Animal Life Society ) It’s a wonderful no kill cat shelter I’d heard about but never had occasion to visit.
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It was amazing. Clean, well run, with an on staff vet and room after room of lucky kitties.
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It was a veritable snuggly cat stacked warehouse.
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We were interviewed and then led into the visiting room to meet the adoptable felines. Some were friendly and outgoing, some were shy and sad. We were told some were permanent residents due to health or behavioral issues.
I would have been happy to take any one of them home… but decided to let the husband choose.
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After much deliberation, this stocky little grey and white fellow was chosen to be an official member of Casa River. ( first photo taken in moving vehicle hence the blur )
He was found wandering as a stray and was surrendered 3 weeks ago. He’s been neutered, wormed, vaccinated and been given a clean bill of health. They estimate his age at 4 years.
He’s very sweet and enjoys being petted…
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When you can find him.
For now he’s skittish and needs to learn to trust us. Lord knows what the poor little guy has been through…but he’ll be happy here.