The pup got her spa day on Sunday. She was treated to an oatmeal bath, nail trim, and a puffy fur. The "after" photo doesn't really do the fluffiness justice. But, take my word for it, she is puffed out, fluffed up, rounded edges, energetic pup. Her "Pawgress" report said, "Cinnamon did great! Just a little wiggly."
In other news . . . well, that'll have to wait. So tired.
While marketed as "Yoda" ears, I think they look more like a "flying nun" accessory. On the plus, the daughter (who loves dressing up the fur babies) only purchased one set. The cats get to share, which I'm sure (if they could speak) would be all, "oh, goody, goody, gumdrops" about that fact.
Buttah seemed the more agreeable of the two over donning and posing in the ears. Though, Buttah is nearly always the more agreeable of the two. Ms. Cinnamon got saved from any new costuming. The daughter's budget will not allow, for now.
Speaking of Cinnamon, the wonder dog, she's in dire need of another haircut. Schedules and budgets have not allowed. But come heck or high water, IT. MUST. HAPPEN! While I like her micro curls, her face and feet are much too fuzzy. Decision must be made about how best to showcase her innate beauty.
In other news yours truly is struggling to keep emotions in check. Tears are flowing easy like Sunday morning.
Speaking of yours truly, of great interest to daughter who finds herself Fantasy Footballing, Bears are 2-0 which matters not to yours truly except as in a purely conversational sense.And on that note: Must get to bed now, well, not to bed to sleep so much as to read before sleep.
In the midst of studying, prospecting, marketing, and growing a ton of other things have happened and / or passed over my field of vision. The picnic actually happened before the new career opportunity and I've planted my behind in the chair to write about it . . . but haven't been able quite articulate my still quite ambivalent feelings.
I will say this: at least one cousin wore a "a family that prays together stays together" tee shirt. It was quite the pleasant surprise to see my Aunt Ann and my cousin Carolyn. And it was quite disappointing that the in memoriam segment didn't occur. And even though I was ambivalent about that as well, I did bring the photo as requested. The photo I brought (and others beyond) were given to younger brother.
The above aside, I'm struck in a variety of ways by a variety of events and thoughts in the past several days since our last gathering. And they are, in no particular order:
A. Daughter, who weeks ago re-connected with her father (he had a stroke several years ago and after bumping around from one family member to another, from one state to another, landed in a rehabilitation / nursing facility in Greenwood, MS) went to visit him (and the arm of his / her family in Mississippi) this weekend past. The visit was good in one regard, not so much in another. Still processing.
C. I'm battling a cold. I no longer feverish, but still not tip-top. A friend is also battling and wrote quite an eloquent post relative to the subject. I don't have her brand of being held in mom's bosom (so to speak) during childhood sickness, ours was quite the different household and dynamics---but there were some instances of receiving mom's full, un-divided attention. The memories of those instances are sweet.
D. Due to being sick, and the busyness of work related activities I'm a bit behind on the news and so only recently caught wind of the MONTANA COURT ruling. I'm quite incensed over the entire episode and culture.
E. And speaking of being incensed....Syria...really? REALLY??? I get the sense that nations are channeling Tina. Further, I get a sense of dread. ::sigh::
F. And speaking of dread---really Auntie Flo?? REALLY!!!!!!??? I am fifty fracking three!!! I know, I know, many have gone well beyond that number. But, "shit, fuck, piss!!" as another friend often retorts ENOUGH already.
G. I know I'm not one to speak, but I miss bloggers. I miss the community. I miss my friends. Oh sure, some (most, in fact) hang out on FB but it is simply not the same. No promises or declarations but I'm striving to be more active with this platform. I still have those sketches to finish, I even bought a new sketch book, so as I say, no promises. But, well, yeah. . .
H. My former boss has continued to call and email. I must continue to ignore him. I cannot afford to be pulled back into his sort of . . . miasma.
J. And while there is much, much more that has gone on and IS going on I'll end here, except to add that the other night I had a dream. I'm struck (again) by remembering even the part I remember for, if you recall, I don't usually remember my dreams and if I do, only snippets filter to the surface. This snippet: I was walking down a street, dressed in my professional business black slacks and black jacket. An older man, he reminded me of an actor whose name and pedigree has alluded me, but think: a cross between Burt Young and Richard Farnsworth started following me eventually asking if I had a couple bucks so he could get something to eat. I then, against ALL my city wits and conventional wisdom, stopped to pull my wallet from my bag, opened it with the plan to peel off a couple of buck . . . The older man took my wallet. I screamed. He turned and half ran, half limped away. I continued to scream but got myself together enough to chase (I mean he WAS half running and MOSTLY limping ) him intending to . . . not quite tackle him, but certainly, get my shit back. Except, I couldn't catch him. WTF?? It was like some weird super slo-mo, non action . . . something. I was thrashing about in bead, screaming in my head, running the litany of what was in the wallet, the hassle of replacing stuff and the like. I woke with a monstrous headache and a sense of extreme dread . . . crying because it felt so real then I snapped to. . it was just. a. dream.
And now, having said that, I can't end it there. I am going to end this episode with: WAY TO GO DIANA!!!
One: We should never give up.
Two: You're never too old to chase your dream
Three: It looks like a solitary sport, but it is a team. (Swimming & life--I'm deciding).