I don't know if you've heard, but we're having a heatwave. You can't go anywhere without people talking about it. Complaining- half heartedly. Only to correct each other with: "You'll miss this is November." At 6am while walking my Puppa stink I ran into my neighbour. We both smelled clean but looked wet. Crossing our collective fingers hoping today was a sweeter day. Knowing that soon we'd both be soggy again.
It's so hot that even my 12-step skincare regime isn't enough. I have to add 8 layers of sunscreen and another step of anti aging cream. The sun and heat are wearing my skin out. My hands are like crocodiles and my midsection is a haunting pasty white; bordered with irregular tan lines. My nails won't grow. My hair feels like a blanket laden with sweat. I've removed all my jewelry, I just don't want it touching me. All the city's women clad in sundresses and breezy fabrics; ponytails piled high on their heads.
On Saturday the sun came out after the spitting rain stopped. Not even close to the humidity cracking thunderstorm we we're promised. The storms we'd been begging for; the grass and trees needing it so badly. In heat like this everyone's looking for trouble. Men without shirts; hooting and hollering at the passing ladies. The Lakeshore blocked by high speed chasers and beer guzzlers. The sound of giant bumblebees without the sweetness of honey. People are restless and the animals are panting. It is hot. And were all trying to love it. Struggling through. Always uncomfortable, but it's Ontario weather, so what do we expect? When it gets like this our sports teams start loosing. The CFL, TFC and BJ's started their seasons well, now coming apart in the heat. My feet are swollen and I am bogged down and drippy. Trying to conserve energy, but ending up with none left anyway. Even Stephen. Six of one half dozen of the other. But man, it is hot!
All this aside, I needed an adventure. But this heat wears me out. It starts being comfortable outside close to 11pm, so you have to stay up that late just to go anywhere without sweating through your shirt. It's too dang hot. This past weekend I spent a lot of time on patios, in fan blown bars and the chilly A/C ofmy BBF. Hoping that I could find in some fun- and I did! My adventure started with a crosstown bike ride. The back roads were deserted; the streets we're open to a double wide lallygaging drift of a ride. All the stores I wanted to go to: Closed as though they forgot it was Saturday. So I settled for a bloody Marcy, a picker platter with smoked salmon and 'Baby it's cold outside' blaring from an ironic jukebox in 32 degree weather. The evening was catapulted by a flight of fancy; trying 9 new micro-brew beers. Suddenly, after way too much sun and beer came the invitation to my first ever penthouse- patio-party. A 2 floor condo with 2 bathrooms and 2 many people. Facing the CN tower and the lake. The city glimmering and calm. The temperature dipping and the breeze whispering through my hair. Finally a nice temperate adventure. Comfortable at last.
So, humidity and hops mix refreshingly well together. Turns out that by raising the adventure temperature, I managed to be hot and comfortable. Thanks Torontonians for keeping you're cool. But if there's a way we can swing it; I would like some of that rain I complained about earlier this summer:)
While riding up north in the backseat of yet another rammed car, I was beaned by a flying chess set in a metal box. While recovering from the shock; I started this list. And it must've been some bonk to the noggin. Cuz here's all the mental floss. So what I thought about this long weekend.
1. It's called a long weekend because that's how it feels- long.
2. That cottages are far from the city andr by the time you get there you've missed half a day.
3. Jilly is allergic to Puppy cupcakes. They transform her into a poltergeist shooting from both ends.
4. Air mattresses have a central vortex that acts like a black hole.
5. I forget how to write a blog.
6. Almost everyone on my side of the family writes.
7. A year is a long time to feel sorry about not saying you're sorry.
8. Going 8 games undefeated inflates an ego, priming it for popping. Even while playing lawn games.
9. Drunk people don't make much sense, if you're sober.
10. Bro finds immeasurable pleasure in saying the Eff-word in front of my religious relatives.
11. Turning 80 means never having to say thank you.
12. Jilly and her cousin Reese get along and share toys quite well. Except the teeny tennis balls that Jilly cracks like a walnut- splitting yellow fuzz and plastic everywhere.
13. Gin and club soda with lime is a great and classically thirst quenching beverage. Especially in a giant Coleman thermos.
14. When someone owes you $100 they make sure you give them the $5 they just lent you.
15. People pay attention to couples using their silent language.
16. Banana boat sunscreen smells like summertime.
17. I clean to show people I love them.
18. Jilly likes ice cubes and cauliflower.
19. You can lead a man to the shower but you can't be sure he'll come out clean.
20. Bluegrass is the best driving music, but Graceland is a very close second.
21. People like repeating stories. Especially if they got a laugh the first time.
22. Pontoon boats were invented for long weekends and dancing to Bryan Adams.
23. A weekend without a watch on is required every so often.
24. Bathing suits aren't designed to last for 6 years.
25. Packing light means leaving stuff behind. Even though you might need them later.
26. Even when BFF isn't there I feel the influence she's had on my life enjoyment level.
27. I need to Shining myself in a northern cottage for 2 months and write.
28. Swimming in a lake and making a joke about snapping turtles causes them to suddenly appear. Sending a gaggle of girls screaming and an Uncle yelling at us to be quiet.
29. Stargazing apps are wicked sticks.
30. A hot July is way better than a wet one. Mosquitos like to bite my bum.
31. I really like my new sister in law.
32. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day if your coffee has Bailey's.
33. A pavilion is a fancy way of saying concrete floor with roof.
34. Coolers should be see-through for efficiency sake.
35. If there's anything lovelier than queen Anne's lace I haven't found it.
36. Diving into a lake is nature's netti pot.
37. Traffic is terrible when you're between radio stations.
38. Bacon and eggers from A&W are worth every penny.
39. When a stat falls on a Sunday everything is closed and they take Monday too.
40. People want to show off their garden, even if their thumb is more brown than green.
41. Sunscreen makes clean hair look greasy.
42. Soy beans are a very popular crop for Ontario farmers this year.
43. If you're in a town with an asylum, expect to see crazy people.
44. Girls ask questions about boobs and laugh at farts.
45. One big zit provides fodder for a whole weekend worth of jokes.
46. KFC is the perfect picnic saver. Mayonnaise is essential for every summer salad.
47. 80 year olds love playing the piano without their hearing aids.
48. Orange hibiscus are beautiful in the overheated Camp grounds.
49. Most conversations with an 80 year start with; did you hear about -blank- they died.
50. A country Mommy will not tolerate 60 in an 80
51. Sometimes your journey takes you back to where you've started, and gives you a chance to start again.
52. You can make ice cubes out of anything- including oil, broth and milk
53. A dog tumor feels weird to accidentally run your hand over it.
54. Actors don't get vacation pay.
55. The winter wheat is ready for harvest.
56. You'll always get complimented on your old 'I only wear them at the cottage shoes'. My calluses get worse the more I wear these shoes.
57. Wearing dress with a strange neckline generates a strange tan line.
58. Puppa will strangle herself to escape the danger of fireworks.59. Being jammed into a full car is more fun than being alone in an empty one.
60. There is no place as comfy as your own bed. Except a five star hotel.
As always it is nice to be back, and starting up my routine of going to be at 10pm again. It's always amazing how I need a vacation after my vacation. I think I might be trying to pack in too much fun, but who complains about having too much fun? Oh wait. that's me:)
I jumped out of bed with a smile on my face
Took a big stretch and yelled 'Hello' to my day
Then Hubby said 'shh' cuz I'd all but forgot
He was up late protecting Gotham from a Bot
So I crept to the kitchen to make up some brekkie
When Jilly Bean let out a squeaking 'yep-yeppy'
So I tickled her armpits, took her for a walk
And saw all the vomit people left on my block
I was full of a rhyme, a rhythm and step
So I trotted to work- it's Fri-Yay don't forget.
While sitting aboard a stop and start bus
I saw that a baby was making a fuss
Thinking to myself about what that might mean
I missed my own stop and was stuck in between
Walking back from the north I caught my toe on the curb
And would you believe it could actually get worse?
Spilling my drink down the front of my shirt
Too far to go home and too close to work
So I hummed and I hawed and I wished for a stick
Of orange Tide clean liquid to vanish it quick
Alas I had nothing not even a Kleenex
That's when I saw wardrobe who offered a fix
She gave me an oversized shirt made for a man
But it was clean so I wore it, thanked her and then
Across from my boss I tripped once again
This time I fell, oh the pain I was in.
When I finally got my work Friday to start
My glad Friday feeling was gone from my heart
Sometime around lunch, way deep down in my soul
I knew no matter what I was on a roll
So I rolled along with it and momentum grew
And before I knew it, you know what I knew
The weekend was coming and could not be stopped
By a spill or a trip or a fall on the rocks
So hurry up weekend I might not survive
This Friday is long and I'm barely alive
Long weekend I want to eat hot dogs and swim
So I decided to twirl on a marvelous whim
It was not a good plan I must agree
Because I fell once again on my same old sore knee:)
The moral I guess is that sometimes life sucks
But if you're happy and know it then who gives a... duck?
Happy Fri-yay!
When I first met Hubby I thought he was cute. He was a dude with a Hobbit haircut and a full beard. But his coffee habit had him drinking 6 cups a day. He was an aspiring actor that worked at a video store. Lived in 390 sq ft with a cat- to whom I was allergic. What was I getting myself into? But the Magic 8 ball said 'Signs point to yes '.
The first time we met was Halloween. Him: Borat Me: Robert Goulet. Now, there were a lot of sexy ladies at this party. Sexy librarian, Sexy Red Riding Hood, Sexy cat and a Kissing booth to name a few. I on the other hand was dressed in a brown polyester leisure suit with a pink buttoned up ruffle tuxedo shirt , brown comb over wig and bushy mustache. Neither of us broke character all night. Him: I like-ah do it to a sexy lady Me: Ladadi Dada. As he was leaving he asked the host about me, who didn't give up any details. I guess I made an impression because it was 2 months until I saw him again...but he liked me right away-again.
On the night we really met; he played footsie with me under the table. Walking with me out in the glimmering snowflakes and kissing me in the blue light in front of the Travel Lodge. I like having a romantic sweet story. When we first started dating Hubby would stare at me with a goofy, pie eyed grin on his face. Almost like he was surprised that we were spending time together. I would tell him "There are days.." and he would smile not knowing what I meant. Well, I meant, there are days that I loved him right from the start. And my love keeps growing. He was cute then...But he keeps getting cuter. It's ridiculous. He was a fuzzy mountain man with a full beard and poofy hair. Now he has a dapper short tight hair cut- greased up and rocking his ears. Almost kiss curl style. His baby smooth face is great for kissing. He's become a rock star who cooks and cleans and takes care of me the way a real man takes care of the woman he loves. And the one day he's not home I am. And I am laying on the couch wishing he was here, but he's not. So instead I am forcing my Puppa-Tink to snuggle with me while watching Rock Hudson kiss Mary Poppins. I was excited to be getting married. But I never expected to be this happily married to Danny DeVito, the Commissioner and my Hubby. It's like Threes Company- but I think I'm Mrs. Roper:)
Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you the incomparable, the delightful, the diligent Melicious Mona!*insert Kermit the frog arm waving scream. Alright, alright that may be a bit of an exaggeration. But I heard through the grapevine there were folks reading this blog to whom I may not have been formally introduced. To them: welcome. To the rest: please, please stay.
This blog has become an infatuation. I write between 250 and 750 words 5 days a week. Most of which are about random events in my life and the nutty day players therein. So, I thought I would do their character breakdowns:
1. Jilly Bean- aka Cutest pup, My Pupparoo, pooh bum stinkeroo. These are all accepted names. Though her response time leaves something to be desired in general. She is stubborn and smarter than she lets on. No matter how often or for how long she is brushed she continues to shed. Her stiff hooked fur crocheting itself into your clothing.
2. Hubby- aka the Commissioner. A quirky handsome dude with a passion for policing the universe. Generous and kind, I love him all days. He is Danny DeVito and Clark Kent, the underdog- but worth the bet. He is getting better with age and time and a little direction.
3. Lucy- aka Sushi-goose. Our bedazzled kitty with the tap shoes. Clicking and stretching. Her days are filled with chasing the sun across the floor and giving herself lengthy tongue baths. BFF claims she is the forgotten baby, but that's how she prefers it. She is a chubby bellied sprite with a tendency to swipe.
4. Momma- a true lady with class and a caring touch. She is the blog's biggest supporter; as proven by her near-daily blog comments. Loved by those who know her and envied by strangers. Her smile is contagious. Her enthusiasm is unending.
5. Papa B- the strong silent grump. A soul leader, goading all to attempt bigger and better things. Pushing himself to change the world. Trying to zero in on the next big thing. A step ahead, but a dollar behind. He alters everything to fit. His clear blue eyes expressing his thoughts; which at times can be horrifying.
6. Bro- a brave life fighter with bigger potential than he credits himself... slowly being convinced otherwise;) very very slowly. His head is above the game, because he likes watching all the action.
7. BFF- the fire to my gasoline. My pretty soul twin who wins every race. Because she is smarter, faster and stronger than everyone else in the whole wide world. Also a high maintenance lady, who will disagree with that statement. But this gift can't be returned, the tags are long gone.
And last but not least; this blog's headliner:
8. Melicious- a strange and clumsy optimist with an IDA (I deserve attention) problem . I mean she blogs 5 days a week for free because she needs the "credit". That's nuts. Interests include the first 7 cast members, her stubborn uke, mojitos, brunch and this blog. Her identity has become tied to this website. Her life is filled with snapshots of the things that people take for granted. She hopes you like it too...
So, that's the main stage 8 for this online variety show. Not everyone plays their instrument well, but together they sound like the high school garage band who's gonna win the 2nd term talent show. Though I am sure there are days they wish they didn't appear as often. And there are many other players with walk on parts, but we'll get to them eventually. I can't tell you how much fun these past 3 months have been. The countless hours I've spent with you, and the support you've been sending my way. I will keep up this break neck speed all the while pretending I am doing it for you. But we all know it's really just my Melicious attempt at creative sanity.
Every month I have 3-5 days when I am a crazy full moon-atic. When this not so pleasurable version of me appears to keep Hubby company, he never takes it well. It also takes him 2 days of me being not so nice for him to realize that it has been 28ish days since I was this mean. So, needless to say he is finally getting the rhythm. I also admit that working 14 hour days, most of which are in Hamilton have amplified these symptoms. Yesterday, I wasn't nice at all. I didn't deserve a second thought, let alone a premeditated ambush of love. But that's what I got. He sniper-ed me with a happy marriage and a grenade of smiles. Starting my day at 4:30am has created a split in our sleeping schedules, some nights he works that late. Our weekends are full of all the errands and all the life we can jam into them. We've been busy. Today as I was waiting at work for my work to start again, I got a text.Hubby: I have a surprise for you when you get home:)Melicious: Ginger Beer!Hubby: Better.Melicious: The Comish has moved out?Hubby: Nah, he's staying...Melicious: Dang. You got me that super expensive nightie from SFYS? (SFYS: Secrets from your Sister, Toronto's most amazing lingerie boutique)Hubby: Nope.Melicious: Washed the Sheets?Hubby: Nope. But I'll do that too.Melicious: Oh geez. I racked my brain trying to figure out why this rainy Wednesday was suddenly so special. Two hours later I saw Hubby's Facebook post: "Melicious is going to be surprised when she gets home" Below this statement friends and relatives posted their hypotheses, I was surprised to see what they thought would surprise me. Thank Rod nobody suggested another FanBoy toy! Then text:
Hubby: 2 surprises.:)
Melicious: Oh dear my love.
Hubby: ETA? Wanna make sure things are nice for you.:)
Melicious: Why?
Hubby: There are 3 surprises.
Melicious: That's a bit much.
Hubby: You're worth it.
I sat at work thinking about surprises. I finished work. I rode home from work thinking about surprises. I got off the bus...then I walked home thinking about...that's right, surprises. Turns out I really love surprises. I should say that again. I REALLY love surprises. Climbing the four floors to my condo I thought some more. Turning my key in the lock, opening to smells of my current favourite food: Saag Paneer Roti. Mmmhmm, dinner is served. Hubby turning the corner close on Jilly's heels, both of them wagging with excitement to have me home. I smile. If this was the surprise- I really liked it. And I smiled. But I came into our nearly new apartment and you know what? It was painted. It was painted in one day. I left and came back and it was painted. The cans had been sitting in our den for the last 3 months waiting for their chance to show their true colours and they did. My house was transformed and I didn't even have to help do it:) BEST SURPRISE ever. My vintage inspired bedroom... I mean OUR bedroom is Bibbity Bobbity-Blue and the den is Buttercup yellow and their both done. Two coats, dry, clean and finished. Boy, was surprised. A huge checkmark for the TO DO list and a giant gold star for the best Hubby I've ever had. My 2 other surprises? Clean sheets and 2 books from my Wishlist. SO, as a representative appointed to speak for this Moon-atic; Hubby please remember she'll be back in a month and you've set the bar pretty high. I love you! I love you! I love you. But that's no surprise.
As you have perhaps noticed I have been getting up at 5am everyday this week. Blah. So, I feel like I've been missing my home life. Well I have been missing my Little stinkeroo Tink, Sushi-goose and the Hubby. So, I started leaving notes for them on the counter in my mind. Which I will now transcribe for your reading pleasure.
Monday:
Dearest Tinker,
You are my favourite Puppa. I had to leave very early this morning and I wanted you to know. I love you. I hope you have a great day.
Momma
P.S. If you could please Swiffer that would be great- as most of that hair is yours
Momma,
I miss you and wanna give you kisses. I was seeping all 'da day and didn't have time for swiffering. Also Lucy made some of that mess, so I don't know why I have to clean it all.
Jilly
Tuesday:
Jilly,
I was so happy to find you in bed with me this morning. You're such a snuggler. As for swiffering, you are the bigger sister and it's important to show Lucy how to pitch in. She's never been much of a helper. Maybe you can both do it, together
Xoxo M
Momma,
Lucy bopped my nose and even though she knows she's not supposed to hit- she did it anyways. I think she should have to Swiffer as punishment for hitting. 'Cause that's bad.
Tinker
P.S. You smell nice and I owe you some kisses
Wednesday:
Jill,
Please Swiffer. That's all I want. I took Lucy aside this morning and we talked about this behaviour. She apologized and told me she'll try harder to be nice. She also told me that you said she had to Swiffer and that you were being a bully. That's not the way I taught you to behave. Now I am trusting you 2 to get along when I am not there. So, please just be good.
I love you both,
Momma
Momma,
If Lucy won't Swiffer I am not going to either.
Your loving doghter,
Jill Bean
Mom,
Please stop Jilly from being so bossy. She was barking out the window all day, drooling on your quilt and licking her bum hole. She's trying to get me to clean the whole house, and I am not the dirty one. I don't even go outside or anything. Plus I just gave myself a pretty lengthy bath today. Please ignore me if I'm sneezy, think I am catching Papa's allergies to dander.
I love you more than Jilly does.
Lucy
Momma,
I saw what Lucy wrote and I mean c'mon who you gonna believe? Me or her? I was a good girl all day. Puppa-swear. Lucy just wants to get me in trouble so I have to do all the chores.
She's being so mean. Acting all fancy with her nail jewelry. It's not fair.
The bestest JB
P.S. She says she doesn't even miss you. But I do.
P.P.S I still have kisses for you
Thursday:
Girls,
It is Thursday. I have been asking for you to Swiffer since Monday. I am no longer asking; I am telling. Swiffer today or there will be consequences.
Your little less loving mother.
Momma,
Lucy and I have decided that swiffering is not something we want to do. We thought maybe if we just slept quietly together in the sun spot on the couch that would be alright. Cuz getting along is the most important thing, right?
Love your Fur babies,
Lucy and Jilly
Friday:
Hubby,
Please punish those lazy girls of ours: no treats. They haven't helped me out all week. If you could please Swiffer and clean their rooms (Jilly's crate and Lucy's poo-box) that would be great. I will have to sit those 2 down and give them a piece of my mind.
I love you, and I love them- I just don't like them very much right now.
Wifey
Wifey,
Why didn't you just ask me in the first place? It took me 10 mins and could've saved you the argument. You know those 2 don't have thumbs or cognitive cleaning skills.
You're silly, I love you.
Hubby
P.S. weren't you going to clean Saturday anyway?
Argh! I know, I know it's my fault for asking the wrong family member to take care of that on teensy job. I just thought it would be great to have those 2 laze-abouts finally pitched in. I was thinking though, maybe I should MacGyver 2 sets of pet sized booties made of Swiffer clothes, then all 8 of those tiny feet can do the work. You know what they say, many feet make for less fight. Plus their penmanship is terrible. Thanks for another great week! I'll see you Monday:)
When was the last time you danced. I mean really shook what your Mama gave ya? Danced until you were out of breath from laughing so hard... Closed your eyes and shrieked along with a song that makes you loose your mind and has for years? A song that you've loved since grade school- I bet my wicked sticks that you still know all the words. Dancing is something every kid does, even though it's more like shaking your sillies out than actual dancing, not that I can boast better moves.
I am not a good dancer, I am really Really not a good dancer. My very white and untoned arms flailing through the air. My legs either kicking Ringwald style or pogo bouncing- depending on my shirt as I have had too many dance-wardrobe malfunctions. The combination of clumsy and banging beats is dangerous. In highschool I used to dance with my shadow on the wall, cuz it was the only thing forced to dance with me. If you've seen me dance, you know, it's a combination of mock sexy oooh faces and deep knee bends. It's really not great. Thank goodness my regular dance partners are one tough cookie and a bitch. DJ Jilly Bean is a good sport, she tries to keep up for the first 2 songs but she's not in it for the long haul she prefers to growl/sigh at me from the couch once she's realized I am not dancing because there are "sooo manny ccoookkies in my pocket" and she's gonna get them all. My tough cookie is a whoo girl. Is there anything better than a Whoo girl, hooting and hollering and carrying on like a crazed woman; possessed by the music. Okay, that's a little much, but you get it. She's fun.
As for the loss of public dancing. Why don't we have group dances anymore? Moves that everybody knew- the bump, the shuffle, the dip, electric slide and begrudgingly I will even accept the chicken dance. The steps uniting a group of wedding goers or prom attendees. Making outcasts part of the group. A step chart for social interaction helps the socially awkward. Dancing is never going to be something I am good at- no matter how many tap, ballet or jazz classes I take. Even modern dance; a dance designed for the body you've got no matter who you are, I still look strange. A bad dancer dancing strangely is still bad. But what about twirling? I am a great spinner, like a Roddamn top! a twirl-master general. So, maybe I focus on the round and round instead of the doo-wop & get down; it's a small sacrifice. Plus the Macarena isn't dead and even my GMa can do that- Hhhaaa!
Our veterinarian considers himself an animal-whisperer with magic hands that heal pets and a soothing voice- especially the Yoda, which I only know is Yoda because he told me. I on the other hand am convinced that when I am talking to the Doggie or Kitty something is lost in translation. Both animals stare at me disappointedly; like I phased out in the middle of our conversation and am no longer listening. It seems to me that at this point (4 years of being Jilly's Momma, and 5+ years of being Step-mother to Lucy) I would have become better than I am at understanding them. Our conversations are as follows:
The wake-up call
Jilly:(all four feet shuffle, nails clicking on the floor) whooo...
Melicious:(half-asleep) "Get on this bed."
Jilly:(emphatically, four foot stomp) Whoo...
Melicious:(groveling) "10 more mins."
Jilly: WHOOoooo!
Melicious:(throwing back the warm quilt) "Fine."
I trudge from the bedroom to the kitchen, take her food from the cupboard, dumping a cup into her bowl. Her nails clicker-clack on the floor, happy tap dancing. Stumbling back into bed, she will join me as soon as she's done for:
Under the covers
Jilly:(with a running leap, she launches herself into the bedroom and onto the bed with a jarring thump. Then she investigates the bed she just left to eat) sniff,sniff,sniff. Blow! Sniff,sniff sigh.
Melicious:(lifting up the blankets, trying to get back to sleep) "Under the covers, JillBean."
Jilly:(burrowing into the blankets, spinning and turning and stomping down invisible grass, until she's finally comfortable) Groan sigh. (pressing herself between mine or Hubby's legs- neither one of us sleeping anymore)
As the day goes on, there are many conversations that transpire as follows:
I don't know what you want
Jilly:(starring into my soul, head cocked, silently) whoo?
Melcious: "What's up JillBean?"
Jilly:(still starring, head cocked the other way) Whoo...?
Melicious: "What do you want?"
Jilly:(four foot stomp, with tip-tap nails) whoo...sigh.
Melicious: "I don't know what you want."
Hubby: "She wants a treat. Jilly want a treat?"
Melicious: "Of course she wants a treat. She always wants a treat. She's a dog."
Jilly:(head almost spinning off it's axis) Treat?!?! they said treat. I love treats.
Melicious: "I am not giving you a treat, you're so spoiled. Who's my barrel chested stinker?"
Jilly: (realizing I won't give her a treat; she stalks off in a huff. Settling down in her house and starring up at me with the world's best/worst puppy-dog eyes) Groan.
Melicious: "Okay, come get a treat." (I cave, but to balance it out, I give her a carrot inside a Kong; she'll have to work for that treat)
My puppa is a protective and stubborn girl. She stares out the huge windows. Being on the 4th floor she has a great view of passing animals and a strong opinion about who should and shouldn't be walking along the path between the buildings.
This is my house B*%#h!
Jilly:(starring out the window) rwow....
Melicious:(from the other room) "Jilly..."
Jilly:(ignoring me) Rwowooo roo! Get off my yard!
Melicious:(going into the other room) "JILLY!"
Jilly:(deflated) roooo...
Melicious: "Oh stop; nobody cares what you have to say."
Jilly:(curling back up on the bed) hoof. I just wanted to see if that shitzu wanted to come over and play.
Melicious: "That shitzu is a big B. Let's invite Kingston over (the beagle down the hall)."
Jilly: Snarf. He's no fun. He humps my face.
Melicious:(sitting on the bed and stroking her tummy) "How about we go to the park?"
Jilly: Snort, I thought you'd never ask. I can hump all faces I want at the leash free.
Melicious:(leaning down to raspberry JillBean's belly) "Who's the best bean?"
Jilly:(Head flopped over, upside down) Is it me? I think; yes.
This last conversation is my least favourite. It typically happens at the end of the night, when I am tired or want to go to bed early. Jilly can sense that weakness, and proceeds to drag me all over hell's half acre to find the perfect poo place.
Why won't you go poop?
Melicious:(shaking Jilly's chain) "Go poos JillBean."
Jilly: Can't hear you; sniffing
Melicious:(pulling Jilly's chain) "Go poos JillBean."
Jilly: Sensory overload, so many other dogs.
Melicious: "Go poos JillBean, you'll feel much better."
Jilly: Hey look, another dog right there. Doesn't he know I own this town? *insert dirt kicking and 1 bark
Melicious:(pulling her back towards the grass) "Focus on going poos. Then we can play with the 'nother dog."
Jilly: I don't care what you say, can't hear you, too many smells.
Melicious: "You'll feel much better if you go poos. Trust me Tinker."
Jilly: (finally finding the ideal spot will circle and scrunch herself in mock poo-position, only to pee again!)
Melicious: "Okay, you've made your choice." (dragging her back towards home)
Jilly:(four foot stop, all heels dug into the ground) wait, wait, I have to go poos.
Melicious: "Then go!"
Jilly: fine. (starring up at me while she does her business, which is awkward for us both)
I lean down and do my duty with her duty and we are on our merry way. So, maybe the conversations aren't as one sided as I thought. She just needs to use her words more. C'mon JillBean, you can do it. If you wanna be the best puppa, you gotta put your bark into it.
I don't consider myself a girly-girl, though I am sure there are many people who disagree (those were stinging nettles Damnber and they hurt!!), but I am the one writing this blog- thus it is my reality not their's.*insert raspberry When I got home from work, took off my antique-dirty shoes with the caked mud and unrolled my jeans to release the sediment, I realized; It's mud! It's all dirt! It's ALL disgusting! Come rescue me! Eeww dirty! You might not believe me but I work in 1864. I am over 100 years dirty from work when I get home. I have been wearing the same 2 pairs of jeans for the last month (not the ones that split- though I've been asked to) cuz I don't wanna get anything else dirty. Who thought this was a good idea? Oh, wait it was me, and dirt or not, I still love it. Though everywhere smells like horse ass, rotten teeth and dust. The dust is a million years old, it must be special dust from a special place where all things old hang out. And I am not sure my co-workers have ever been clean- I mean it's dirty everywhere, everywhere. It's in my ears, up my nose and my hair. Yucky.
Then after long hours, for my 5 th day in a row; I go home...Home to a place surrounded by temporary fence, preventing me from falling into ever deepening holes. It smells like burning cheese, which I can't decide is a good thing or bad thing. Upside: it's not 100 year old dust, Downside: it's fresh, earthy and wet. Then the rains came and it's mud. Seriously? The street is mud, the sidewalk is mud; the mud sinks into my shoe treads, making this already clumsy person start walking like Peter Sellers. I am slipping and sliding, and trying to get my stubborn Beagle to poop and she won't. She hates the mud, the rain, the wet- treating me like I did THIS to her...Which I never would. So, now I am soggy, dusty, dirty, grumpy and muddy. My whole life is filthy, except my condo hallway. It's a hyper-barrack chamber. After the flood, my hallway was ripped apart and naked. Now, it is a plastic lined, newly re-insulated hazmat tunnel. An eerie bubble leading me towards ET; I walk through it 4 times daily. Each time expecting to enter zero gravity or meet John Travolta (the boy in the bubble for those too young), it's a strange feeling. Oh no, how rude of me, I think, looking behind me to see the trail of filth I've left on the plastic floor- World's oldest dirt-meet brand spanking new condo hallway. Everything here is new and hepa filters and static electricity. Jilly thinks the plastic drop sheet is a giant toy for her delight, it squeaks like her toys, tastes like her toys and the tape must smell like bacon- cuz all she wants to do is eat it...though I can see in her eyes, she knows she's being a bad girl. Finally, I enter my own sweet home, where I am free to shed the dirt and grime and grumps. After taking special precautions to wrap all this fancy dirt into itself, I jump in the shower and sing showtunes, while making up fake conversations with handsome men I have never met- Ryan Gosling-and practising my giggle. Okay, so that sounded girly, but who wouldn't be in a cupcake scented shower?
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