Merry Valentine's!

 Just popping in to note a few things: First and foremost--Merry Valentine's Day, all!! Steven and I are just planning on having a chill night for Valentine's--which I love. I love the movies and the comfortable easiness of just living. And, since Blue had his surgery to have a tumor removed today and is tired and on "puppy bedrest" anyway...it seemed a good night for Chill.

  Speaking of, I don't think  I mentioned it, but our Great Dane, Blue-dog, had a tumor and a few skin tags that the vet felt needed to be removed. They said normally they'd just do a local and take them off, but in his case(i.e., he's huge...if he tried to bite them...yeah, not a good plan). So, they had to put him under to perform the removals. Buuutttt....anyway, that went really well.

  As a reward for getting through it alright, I guess lol, we went ahead and bought him a huge dog bed to cuddle on. I think Diesel, the boxer puppy, understands that "Brother" isn't feeling well, so he's just chilling with him on the bed.

 But, Steven's about to come in, and we're going to get dinner started...so... again,


                                  
 

He Knows I'm Crazy...

You really have to appreciate the man who knows you're crazy and loves you anyway. 

 

And, good Lord, if Steven doesn't know I've lost it by the end of today...

 

I started the morning by refusing to get out of bed, then totally spazzing when I realized, oh, well, dang, I have six minutes to get to work, and I'm not out of bed yet. 

Then, I called him four minutes from home to tell him that I'd forgotten my serving apron, and, yes, I knew he didn't have time, but would he "pretty please bring it to me, since I'm already late for the MANDATORY all-store meeting" that he reminded me over and over about while trying to rouse me. (He had the good grace to not comment on that. And, yes, he brought it to me, wonderful man that he is.)

During work, I had an eight top taking up two of my three measly tables, and, despite me ringing their Cajun Lime Tilapia in without blackening seasoning AND going back and telling both the expo and the cooks that I needed them plain....all three fish dishes came out...*blackened*. So, they had to be sent back, and those three people had to wait while everyone around them munched. They were just thrilled, as you can imagine.

Then, a friend had brought in some cookies. She even had marked me one that was just mine. Favorite kind and all...and someone *ate* it. My oatmeal raisin cookie. Mine. My stress relief.

I FINALLY got off work...and limped my way to a gas station, totally frazzled. 

Then, when I got home and was on a two hour break between my two jobs, I got on the phone with my dad--because he and my uncle have been putting counter-tops in for us. The problem? They disconnected the water in the kitchen. He was letting me know that it still wasn't connected, and, seeing as he couldn't find a dog-sitter, he wouldn't be coming up today to fix it either.While I was on the phone, I'd let both the dogs out to go potty. 

When I hung up and opened the door to let them back in, I couldn't find them. I whistled. And called. And whistled. And yelled. And walked down our driveway, still calling. And got in my car and drove around, looking for them. For goodness' sake, one of them weighs as much as I do! How can ya possibly lose a dog that size?? Finally, after forty-five minutes of fruitless searching, I called Steven who was at work--an hour away--begging him to come home and help me find the dogs. Especially since I had to be at my other job in less than an hour. 

No sooner than I called him, and, he said he couldn't---I find both dogs. Two miles from home. But, sensing how incredibly irate I was...neither of them would get in the car. It took another five minutes of chasing them in circles around my little Corolla to get them loaded up. 

Have I mentioned we don't have heat yet? So I get home from that escapade, freezing--take a shower, forget the towel, and am forced to streak through our house...with both inside and outside temping at like 30 degrees. 

At which point, I'm late for my other job. So, hop in the car and drive to Wal-mart. When I get there, I find out that there are only two closers tonight--myself and an older man...who has pneumonia. 

Finally, finally, I get off and head home, dead tired, and VERY ready to see Steven and chill. I walk through the door, and he has a lovely fire going(thank GOD...I may be warm!), ....BUT....he's working on a paper that's due in less than an hour. So, I resolve to get on the computer myself and chill till he's done, and we can have dinner.

But....when I walk into our bedroom...I see it...

The comforter...

It's been ripped, torn-open, and gaping, with a mound of white stuffing hanging out. 

Thank *you*, Blue-dog and Diesel. I'm not gonna lie. It was a gasp Steven heard three rooms away. 

And, *that* is when I flipped. Though he swore he'd fix it, it was all gonna be ok, "chill *out*, baby"...I bawled. I wailed that the dogs were stupid and weren't allowed in our room ever ever ever again. Being the guy that he is, he just hugged me and waited for it to pass for a moment.

 

I proceeded to inform him I needed a moment alone so I didn't take any upset out on him. He insisted I come sit beside him while he finished my paper. I went, but continued with the tears and so on. 

After a few moments, he asked me my thoughts...

"They tore up my blanket that my momma gave me to start my whole rest of my life with!!!" It was another wail...

He couldn't help himself, I'm sure. 

He laughed. And hugged me. And kissed me. 

And then, I knew.

You REALLY gotta appreciate the guy who knows you're crazy and loves you anyway. 

Spankings Sure Suck When You're Sick

I mean, really, I guess spankings suck all the time...

And I can't say I didn't deserve it. Poor Steven has spent the last 3 days tending and snuggling and comforting me--why? Because I'm pathetic when I'm sick. And God HELP if I'm sick enough to be throwing up.

Which I was.

So, anyway, I'm hopefully in the recovery stages, so he was spending some time on the computer and playing with the dogs. He really wasn't doing anything *wrong*. He just wasn't paying attention to me. Which is what I wanted. I tried chucking a glove at him. Twice.

I got a Look.
(It was a tad scarier than this.)

I ignored it.

I tried just chatting.

I was ignored.

I got up and went to bed, no kiss, no goodnight, no nothing, save for a "Come on, Blue-dog. Diesel, stay."

He came in a few minutes later and tried to talk to me. I didn't budge. I was feeling stubborn and slighted(I know, selfishly bratty. Wasn't thinking.)


He tried. He warned me. He said he didn't want to spank me while I wasn't feeling well. He told me I was still pushing...

And I still sulked.

Out came the attitude.

Out came the pout.

Out came the hairbrush.


And, you know--it was short. It wasn't a bad one by any stretch of the imagination. He was careful, but he certainly got his point across. Then I had some lines to write...something about maintaining control of my attitude at all time and under any circumstances...

And, At the end of all this, I've come to two conclusions:

1) Being sick isn't an excuse to be a brat.

2) Spankings sure suck when you're sick.

Giving A Horse A Bath

Step One. Find Steven, find Blue-Dog, grab a towel, grab dog Shampoo for Sensitive Skin. 

Step Two. Get Blue-Dog in the tub....this is more difficult than it sounds. If Grace has been and is still ill, this should be attempted by Steven. It still gave him a hard time.

Step Three. Shampoo and rinse one side of Blue Dog. 

Step Four. Get Steven to turn Blue-Dog around.

Step Five. Blue-dog Buries head in Steven's stomach.

Step Six. Repeat step three on opposite side of Blue-Dog.

Step Seven. Shampoo and rinse head and neck.

Step Eight. Turn off water, run to other end of bathroom.

Step Nine. Blue-dog shakes.

Step Ten. Dry him off. 

Note: Though do-able, this should never be attempted when one has been as sick as I've felt. Any energy one MAY have recovered over the course of almost twenty-four hours of sleep WILL be drained. 

You have been warned. 

Blue-dog says Goodnight! 

It's Been a While

... But I'm back.

Sorry to have taken so long to write again, but I'm not the avid writer/ thought-putter-down-on-paper that Grace is.

As you all well know we have a new addition to the family. At least he's not a puppy anymore and he gets along SOO well with the other pup.

Grace has been really sick today and she's currently in bed sleeping while i write this post. I was uncertain about the dog until last night. Every time Grace got sick during the night and had to get up, he attached himself to her hip and would not leave her alone, it was an awesome act from a dog we'd had for around 24 hours. He solidified himself a place in my heart after that.

I went out this morning to get her some medicine/water/etc. and I took the dog with me for a minute trip to Weigel's simply because she asked me to... Ok so I can be a bit of a pushover when it comes to certain things.


But... in my defense this dog LOVES car rides and it's always interesting to see the looks from other people when you place an over 130lb dog into a Toyota Corolla.

I've tried my best to tend today... something that I don't think I'm very good at.. but I've never had any complaints.

Grace got in trouble last night for some things that hadn't been done yet and things that weren't finished, but I think I'll give her an extension until she gets over this bug... she really is pitifully sick.



-Steven

"I'll have a Blue..."

Good news all around!! YAY!

First and foremost--we have a new addition to our little family! Steven has graciously consented(Against his better judgment), to let me get a Great Dane. 

See, I work in a deli, and you'd be flat amazed at all the things people come in and tell you. I was there the other day, and this woman came in. She was talking about her daughter's Great Dane, who was living with a little dog, just the two of them, in a mobile home. The owners would stop in and drop off food and spend time with him, but due to a family situation, were unable to really spend as much time and attention as both they and he would like. Sooooo....when she said they were trying to find a good home for him....

I begged.

I pleaded.

I swore to be good for all time.

I vowed to finish my papers, my lines.

I offered to take a spanking for it. (Thankfully, he declined this particular invitation).

Anything to let me have this dog. So, now...we are the proud of owners of, not one, but two dogs--a Boxer and a Great Dane--and a cat.

He's six years old, and his previous family called him Blue. I'd love to change it, but I'm not at all sure what to call him. Obviously, Blue is on the first two cushions, and Diesel is on the last. You can't tell for sure...but within the next twenty seconds...he was gnawing on Blue's tail. Fortunately, he fits the cliched "Gentle Giant" name and is MADE of patience. :)

On other good news...

Three days without a spanking...

Three days and counting. :) 

The More I Think About It...

  So, we live in an old house that belongs to my family. I practically grew up in this house, when it belong to my great grandparents--my great grandmother, in my opinion, just hung the moon.I was even named after her--Grace. I loved her deeply, and it was extremely devastating to me when she died.
  Now, obviously, the house looks different with Steven and I here than it did when it belonged to her. Yet, when I look around, it's often bittersweet for me. I see things that remind me of something we did together, or I find something of hers, and it pangs. We even use her old potato masher!
  But, probably the thing that reminds me the most of her--
  Isn't a masher.
  Isn't a room.
  Isn't a book or a picture.

  It's a tree.


When I was very young, my dad clambered up into it and hung me a tire swing. I adored that thing, but the only other person who felt the same...
Was Mamaw.
And we'd go out and swing and swing and swing forEVER.
Well, the other day, I made some comment to Steven(who never met her)  about missing her, and told him about the swing. (Now, of course, it's gone.)
The man didn't bat an eye. "You want one?"
"Want one what?"
"A tire swing in that tree." I, naturally, was thrilled and excited and immediately said of course I did.
And, you know, the more I think about that, the more touching it seems to me. He really is just too good to me. I doubt he even realizes how much a silly ol' tire swing in a tree means to me.

On a more negative note--the more I think about it--the more I hate writing lines and papers. Unfortunately, Steven has discovered that if I 'm writing it, I'm thinking about it. And, that's simply more effective punishment for me. If I'm writing lines(or papers--I currently have two due...but that's definitely for another post), I'm considering what I've done.
I hate that. I'm one who likes to have done whatever I've done, be spanked(much as I hate that), and move right along and not think twice about it again.
And, this doesn't allow me to do that...
And, the more I think about it...
The more I hate that.

But...

I have some papers to finish.