I was going to post a rant about the poor driving around here, but instead...
I came in this morning and we started work on the masterpiece - Decoration through Illumination as my co-worker calls it. And we've only just begun. I still have icicle lights to bring in. One of my co-workers has a partially decorated cubicle wall she's in charge of, to up the ante. Another is cackling with glee, but we don't know why....
My mother-in-law was kind enough to load us up with the Cesar Millan gift set. I love this man. He's funny, he's smart, and he makes his living telling people to put down their crack pipes and grow a spine. Anyway, part of the gift set was a book, which I immediately flipped open to the table of contents.
Me: Sweetie, there's a section in here on "picking the right dog for your family". Eyes glance over at Ginger Chris: Does it say anything in there about pulling up to the pound at 4:59 when they close at 5PM? Me: And pointing to the dog and saying "We'll take it!" Chris: And then taking the dog outside and saying "I don't think we got the right one - but she's only $14"? Me: Nope, oddly enough, not a word
Since 1900, the St Louis Post Dispatch has had an annual tradition of helping out the truly unfortunate via their "100 Neediest Cases" drive. Each year from Thanksgiving to Christmas (ish), they post 100 stories of people in need of a hand. Actually, over 10,000 people are assisted as a result of this drive. But if ever you want to be truly thankful for what you have, all you have to do is read the stories. Two parents? Check. Food and housing? Check. Good health and no crippling medical bills? Check. Good education? Check. Lack of natural catastrophe destroying all of our earthly possessions? Check.
Anyway, if you're looking for a charity to donate to this Christmas, this is a good one. Click Here.
As much as it sucked not getting to see my parents this weekend, I have to say we had a great time with this 4 day weekend. I didn't realize how stressed I was until 4 glasses of wine at Thanksgiving dinner resolved my problem with a sore neck. Friday I was mostly lazy with a quick shopping spree to buy some Christmas presents. Saturday was the dirty dozen for Chris while I chilled, then we went out to watch "Stranger than Fiction" and have dessert at the Cheesecake Factory with our friend, Barb. We stayed out until the decadent hour of 11:30, and I slept in until (gasp) 8:30. As Chris said "big bike ride, chocolate cake, a movie...what more could you want out of a day?" Life has been a bit crazy for us in the last few months. Just being able to chill these last few days has been a luxury I didn't even realize I'd missed.
Helping things immensely has been that Fred and Ginger appear to have figured out that life isn't nearly as bad as they thought. They've snuggled, they've wrestled, they've played tug of war. Fred still needs big dog time without Ginger playing Goofy while he's trying to be majestic. But at least I haven't spent the last few days wondering if we're ultimately going to be taking her to another shelter because Fred can't stand her.
Oh and "Stranger than Fiction turned out to be a really good movie. Not quite as fluffy as what I was expecting, but still worth watching. Emma Thompson turns in another awesome performance, this time as a semi-crazy writer. Will Ferrell shows a degree of control I didn't know he could muster. And my husband says "Who knew I had the hots for Maggie Gyllenhaal?" (Note...husband has hots for her, I don't. Not that I think he'd object if I did too...)
I just dropped my husband off for the Dirty Dozen. And it was a ZOO. When the weather is crap, there can be as little as 8 or 10 riders there. Today....roughly one meeeellion people showed up. So it'll be interesting to find out how that went. There are some borderline legal things that happen during the course of the ride. Which probably are winked at when there are 8 or 10 riders. I have a few concerns that what's winked at when there are 10, might be noticed when there are ...um... 40. So I can't wait to hear the stories!
Update: Ok, make that 120 riders. Well they made it as far as Canton with no issues. Chris was finishing top 10, but you have to be top 5 to get points. Ah, well.....it's all about the experience, right?
I have to admit, this morning when I went to church sans Dad this AM, I was a little blue about missing Thanksgiving. I felt a bit like this:
But... Life's really too short to waste on being depressed over nothing. And I do have tons to be grateful for. Like not having to listen to the litany of ailments from the rest of my family over dinner. So instead I'll try to remember the Magnificat from Mass this morning, which has to be the ultimate prayer of Thanksgiving:
My soul magnifies the Lord, And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. For He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden, For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation
Anyway - how you like them apples? The Magnificat and South Park all in the same posting!
The joy of working the corporate world is that Thanksgiving is a four day weekend, unlike for my poor hubby in his retail environment. And quite honestly the day before the holiday might as well be the holiday. It's become a defacto day off. Oh sure, people are here, but not many. The bosses are gone, the few that are here traditionally send their people home a few hours early, after everyone has taken a long lunch.
So the first thing I'm thankful for this week is a 4 day weekend!
Chris received the following email from a member of the local racing association. They had their awards banquet this past weekend. We missed it because Chris was...racing. Anyway, the email said:
I am sorry to inform you that you are the unlucky recipient of the FlatCup...as the only broken boned rider from the year
A friend of mine's daughters began clamoring for a pet several years ago - specifically, a dog. He came home one day to find them playing with their new pet worms. He made the mistake of telling that story around the office, and was often greeted with "How are those pet worms, Rick?" So deciding to move up the evolutionary scale, he got the girls a hamster. Hammy was a definite improvement, but really...a dog. The girls wanted a dog. So he hit on a scheme. The local shelter gave people the ability to fill out a form with what they were looking for. Then if any animal came in that matched their form, the shelter would contact them, and hopefully a joyous introduction followed. So Rick filled out the form so specifically that there was no way that the shelter would get such a beast. Then he could tell his daughters "I'm sorry but the shelter hasn't called!" So he asked for: Cocker Spaniel (more big dogs are turned over to shelters than little ones) Purebred (rare for any non-mixed breeds to be turned over to a shelter) Buff-colored (Limits the range of choices) Male (once again limits the range of choices)
There's no way such a beast would appear at the local shelter!
And that's how Scooter the male, buff-colored cocker-spaniel came to live with Rick and his family.
Since I've been getting a hit or two the last few days from people looking for the TRM Cycles blog (and I had about 30 bazillion links to it, so I show pretty much first on all of the searches), here's the deal. Chris was transferred to another store, and through a minor, um, delete key error, instead of transferring his posting to a neutral blog as he expected to, both neutral blog and TRM blog got deleted. Not what what he was hoping for. And now he's thrown his hands up in disgust and sworn off of blogging altogether. So TRM is free to reclaim the blogspot link if they like, but it's looking like Chris won't be keeping a separate blog. Which bums me out because even though I usually get to hear the stories first hand, I do enjoy his writing.
Todd Leister is the first with the photos online from yesterday's race, and all I can say is...egads.
I'm sort of torn between sorry I couldn't be there to help out, and sort of relieved that I spent the weekend lounging with the pups.
Regardless, Chris tells me that this weekend having people to pit for him was essential. Saturday the DCCoD pitched in during the race to give Chris a clean bike with a lap and a half to go. And Sunday a former teammate, Yozell, did a yeoman's task of giving Chris a clean bike on every lap. It's one of the things that we both love about cyclo-cross: Fight hard during the race, have fun afterwards. Or in the case of this race, finish spitting out the mud afterwards. Can't wait to see the laundry he's bringing home!
While hubby is off Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer, the dogs and I are declaring today snoozin' day at the residence. We started the day off with a burst of craziness at the ball field. The dogs ran off a lot of stress. Then it was home for wrestling and tug of war and lots of sleep while I'm doing the movie marathon thing. So far I've seen Relative Values (have I mentioned that I love Colin Firth?), Tristan and Isolde (eh...), and now I'm working on the Kings of Comedy. It's not even 3PM. At some point I'm going to have to move along to books just to break the day up. And maybe another outing to the ball field in a little bit to let the hounds burn off any leftover energy. This will spare us an evening like yesterday evening when I almost left Ginger on the side of the road in the rain with a "Free" sign around her neck. She was barking at every single twig snap, door knock on the neighbors' doors, and passing car. Tonight...she sleeps....
After one and a half laps, this is what his bike looks like. He qualified it as a very "Euro" race. What usually happens is that a bunch of cyclocross racers get together and ooh and ahhhh over how hard the cross courses are in Europe. How Richard Groenendaal has to run half the course because it's so difficult to ride. Today, with all of the mud, Chris said they ran about a third of the course. Which will give everyone a better feel for how cool the Euro courses are after all. Way to put together the challenge, Guys team!
There are three milestone dates in Chris’s and my relationship that I’ve actually managed to remember all of these years – Our first date, the day he proposed, and the day we got married. Don’t feel TOO much pain for Chris, he’s only expected to remember our wedding anniversary. Normally I let the first two dates pass with just a fond smile of memory. But today is the fifth anniversary of our first date.
Happy fifth, sweetie. To steal your line before you get to use it: It’s been like 5 minutes. Under water. Seriously, it has flown by. My mind still can't wrap around the fact that we've been together for so long. I love you.
I realize a lot of these are way too small to make the final selection, but it's fun. Kind of like nominating your best friend's home movie to win the Oscars.
OJ, no...really.... Most sane people already know that you did do it. Now you have to stick to your story. Offering up "If I did it, here's how it happened" is not going to give you that long coveted Ginsu knife endorsement. Let's go with just calling your book "Yeah I did it. Thank God for the Double Jeopardy amendment!"
There is plenty I don’t like about bike racers. Having been around the racing scene for the last 6 years, both as a racer and as a spectator, I’ve seen some seriously bad behavior. I’ve seen people who are so completely self-centered that they don’t care who they step on to further their hobby. People who think sponsors should be grateful for their Cat 3, 4, or 5 presence in a race. People who are given something for free and then complain that it’s not something way cooler for free. A personal fav is the guy who wouldn’t let his son pick up his prize for his race, so that the son could hurry up and get in the pit for the father’s race. The priorities can just get a little twisted with all of that adrenaline on high surge.
But having started with the caveat, I have to say I looove that it’s such an accessible sport. This past weekend, a former teammate of Chris’s finished only two spots behind Chris Horner. In other words, a dude from central Pennsylvania finished only two spots behind a guy who rode in the Tour de France. This warms the little cockles of my heart. This would be sort of like your local flag football team making the quarter finals against NFL teams. (with less injuries in cycling, of course!).
Our friend Laura sent me a link to the Rolling Dog Ranch. It's really cool, this couple has an animal sanctuary for disabled dogs. Essentially they rescue dogs who would otherwise be put down because they're hard to find a home for. Super cool! They also have a blog for those who want more! more! more!
The car was pretty trashed after Chris's racing at HPCX cross on Sunday (RAIN!). So last night the dogs and I picked Chris up from work, and then we went to the car wash. I could see Ginger's ears drooping and tail drooping the minute we pulled into the touchless car wash bay. So Chris held her while the washing proceeded. She was doing pretty well until the dryer came on, at which point only "mom" would do, and she crawled into my lap and hid her head beneath my arm. And stayed there until we got home. She didn't want to get out of the car when we got there. I guess in doggy language the windows must have had "Here there be dragons" written across them.
Wow, she and Fred are going to be quite the pair for Fourth of July and New Years fireworks!
Fred used to camp out by the back door until I came home. But the last few times I left, he's started hanging out in our bedroom where Ginger's crate is.
I like to think that it's to keep her company. A friend has suggested that maybe it's so he can tease her relentlessly.
Er....I love Thor Husovd and all, but isn't being named "Norwegian Cyclist of the Year" sort of like being named Houston Snow Skiier of the Year? It's not like there are tons of Norwegian cyclists competing for the honor.
And he did even better today! Woohoo! I'm very excited for Chris, and sorry I couldn't be there at the same time. He said at one point he was telling his pressed-into-service pit crew when he was going to take a bike, and a teammate was all "look at you strategizing." But in Chris's case, he makes up for that lack of effortless talent some of our friends have, with meticulous planning and strategy. It's going to make him a really good coach in my completely unbiased estimation. No seriously, who would you rather have coaching you, the dude who can eat snickers all week and still win, or the guy who has to know how to train, how to eat, and what race tactics to use? So I'm pretty excited for him, way to maximize that talent, sweetie!
Some friends had tickets to today's Steeler's game, so I went to hang out with them for a while before they went into the stadium. It's a lot of fun being in a crowd that's just excited to be there, openly cheering for their team, just having a good time. God bless the Saints fans, though, they were cracking me up. I overheard two sets of Saints fans commiserating in the cold: "I could use some Gumbo right about now. They have chili but they don't have gumbo." "No, really, you wouldn't want the gumbo they make up here..."
At another point a Saints fan yelled "God bless FEMA! I've got 6' of water in my house, but I'm in Pittsburgh drinking beer!" Natural Light to be specific. I think defining that as beer is probably a bit generous.
Fox Sports was broadcasting their half time show here today. That means Howie Long, Jimmy Johnson and Terry Bradshaw were here. In this area, the primary religion is Steeler's-mania, and in the pantheon of gods, Terry Bradshaw is one of the biggest. So I was a little disappointed that all he offered the crowd was a 10 second wave before they went on, and then when it was over, he exited with nary a glance towards the screaming fans. Maybe he was enroute to an autograph signing with handicapped kids or something, but a pause and a wave on the way out doesn't seem like it would have been overly taxing. I don't care, I'm more of a Rocky Bleier woman myself, but it seemed ungracious.
All in all, being with the maniacs was actually quite fun. I got to see the CMU bagpipes and drums corp in action, watched the crowds, and then went home to my nice warm house to enjoy the game on the computer.
It's looking like I've hit my last cross race for the year. Sorta mixed feelings about that. Obviously I'm going to miss my hubby every weekend until mid December, and I'm going to miss hanging out with the cool kids of 'cross. I like sports, so I'll miss the whole intensity and excitement of sport. But it just comes down to it's not right to make other people - whether it be hotel staff, or people we're mooching off of - deal with a non-house trained puppy. And it's not fair to Ginger, who isn't even 4 months old, to make her sit in a car for hours. Heck, I'm not sure it's fair to Fred, but overall he's a heck of a good traveller, and he seems fine with it.
On the plus side - 10-14 less hours in a car each weekend. Sweet!
All of you with video cameras, please keep them rolling. I'm going to have to enjoy cross season second hand this year.
Instead I'll start turning my gaze here towards home. This coming Thursday is light up night for my township. And since we'll be here for Turkey day and the following weekends, I may actually have time to (gasp!) decorate for Christmas. Maybe even make Christmas cookies. Holy mackerel! It's crrrraaazzzzzy I tell you!
This morning as I was starting to attempt to work from home, I asked Chris "Could you throw the ball for Miss Piggy a few times?" (She's gained 4lbs in a week thus the new nickname. Watch her be a Great Dane mix). After the first toss, Fred started trying to interfere, grabbing Ginger by the neck, and flipping her on her back. But after a minute or two of this, Ginger started bouncing back, growling and barking at him. And the game was on with much chasing, and Ginger getting all tactical and hanging out up against the couch so Fred couldn't use his momentum to roll her without hitting the couch. Now I have two sleepy happy dogs at my feet.
Man, just feel like nothing profound in my writing of late. Things have been a little hectic around here with a new puppy, preparing for holidays, and the usual this and that of day-to-day life. Thanksgiving is going to suck this year (I'll spare you that rant, but I'm pissed), and I'm not going to get to see my parents for either holiday for the first time in my life. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and my muse has deserted me. And by muse I mean "Sense of humor". Argh. Send drugs.
In happier news, we got Fred and Ginger to a park this morning for just a few minutes before Chris went to work. Chris got Fred for about 15 minutes of mountain biking while Ginger and I played fetch. Then when Fred and Chris arrived, Ginger alternated between chasing Fred, hanging out next to the creek while he had a good soak (hey, you try running for 15 minutes when it's 50 degrees out and you're wearing a fur coat!), and chasing Chris on the mountain bike. The mutts fantastic are finally getting used to each other. I even caught Ginger licking Fred's ear this evening, but she stopped before I could get a camera out. Curses, another photo op blown.
Apparently I'm not the only one suffering from the blahs, Daily Mumps called it quits. So they came off the blog-roll, such as it is. Bummer.
If you're doing the Lower Allen cyclocross race, registration closes tomorrow at noon. The reg for HPCX closes on Friday. Be kind, pre-reg. It saves the promoter LOTS of hassle.
Ok, back to your regularly scheduled tap dancing on Rumsfeld's grave or doing shots off of his desk.
Only for a checkup! According to our vet, the official stats on Miss Thaaang are 25lbs 15 weeks old A little skinny for her size Her rohrshach guess: Golden Retriever/Husky mix
Dear lord. I've been hoping that there was no husky in there just because Huskies are known as runners. As in the kind that don't come back. So far Ginger's too little to have a real interest in going far from the pack. Keep your fingers crossed that at least some part of the mix has a strong pack attachment. The vet mentioned too that huskies are wimps. Grrrrreat.
Myths the vet dispelled for me: All dogs, not just labs, have webbing between their toes. A black spot on the tongue does not necessarily mean chow. A black tongue, yes, a black spot, not necessarily.
So that's been the excitement for the day. Back to your regularly scheduled rejoicing or mourning depending on your political affiliations.
Culture Club has finally declared that Boy George has gone too far. Was it the androgyny, the sex, drugs, and rock and roll, the rehab stint, or the false burglary report?
Noooooooo.
It was because Boy George said something mean about them and didn't let them in on an award.
...the “attractions” signs at your exit lists the industrial park. I’m not kidding. As we drove to the cyclocross race this weekend, I noticed that there’s one of those blue amenities signs up marked “attractions”, and the attraction was the Hopewell Industrial Park.
Ginger is the ultimate Rohrshach dog. So far suggested breed comprising her makeup are: Labrador Retriever (seems pretty likely) Husky (because of her face - but she doesn't have the eyes!) Chow (black on the tongue) German Shepherd (this is one of the pound's suggestions, and she has the same tail markings as Fred) Golden Retriever (also one of the pound's suggestions)
I'm thinking of making up some dice with assorted breeds on it to roll the next time someone asks what she is. I'd have to say given the gas she has passed the last few days that "skunk" is at least part of the mix.
She's 100%, Pure-D, Mutt. I'm looking forward to what the vet suggests!
Today was the most under-appreciated cross races in the state of PA. With having gotten Ginger on Thursday, we opted to stay local rather than do the long trek to Connecticut and Massachussetts for the weekend. A bit of a bummer, two great races, an opportunity to see friends we seldom see, and a chance to get to see my brother all passed up because we added to the family. I'll be home next weekend as well, while Chris heads out to the Harrisburg race and the Highland Park race in NJ. We'll see how things are going after that.
But anyway, spending a few hours at Gary D's cross race was enough to wear some puppies out.
After Fred spent yesterday looking like he wanted to jump off the roof, I'm happy to say that today has been much better. I credit taking them both to the ball field and letting Fred kick Ginger's ass. Sounds harsh, but all day yesterday Ginger collected his bones, barked at him, pushed him around, climbed on him, and Fred scarcely uttered a peep. Instead he moped and was seen surfing realtor.com looking for a new place to live. This morning I took them to the ball field, and let them both off the leash. Fred charged her, rolled her a few times and grabbed her by the neck. As long as no injury was being done, I let him. When she cried, I called an end to the beating, and Fred pranced home very proud of himself. It sounds cruel, but I was afraid he'd totally snap at some point otherwise and do Ginger some injury. She needed to be reminded who the big dog in the house is. Since then, they've played tug of war and run around the house for a few minutes. Nothing huge, but a step in the right direction. And Fred's not returning the calls from the realtor.
Chris looked at the little monster a few minutes ago and said "I think we'll keep you." So I guess she's officially our little girl now, and the guys are prepared to waive their initial objections. She's definitely a different character than Fred, and a bit of an adjustment. I keep telling Chris "She's getting the idea of house training" approximately a nano-second before he finds the next puddle. Drats. But she's a smart little pup, so I have high hopes that she'll figure it out.
Well first Abel was all "Look at me, I"m so cuuuuute 'cause I'm younger" and "Mom, don't pet him, pet me!". Then Abel stole ALLLLLL of Cain's bones. Then she ...I mean he....barked at me...I mean Cain....when Cain got too close to Abel's bones.
As Chris says on the TRM Cycles blog, picking up Ginger was fairly spur of the moment. So now we're just dealing with the startlement of waking up with a crate in our room, and a crazy puppy to offset our staid dog. Part of this was aided by the fact that when you go to the pound in rural OH, you DON'T have to donate a kidney the way you do when you get a dog at the humane society. What a concept! It took 2 hours to get the paperwork completed when we got Fred. It took 3 minutes to get Ginger, hand over the money, and leave.
The good news is she's a good little girl so far. She's not housetrained, but she seems to have the general idea that she should be. So when I take her out, she's pottying. She's figured out that sit = treat, so now her little butt hits the floor the minute the treats come out. Which should improve our odds of getting a picture of her that doesn't involve a blur. She's all puppy energy, and she's totally fascinated by Fred's bones. She spent about half an hour last night chewing on one of his bones.
It's good! Now we just want to figure out her breeds, and how much trouble we're going to be in when she grows up to weigh 400 lbs.
At 6:30AM this morning, I had no thoughts of anything exciting upcoming other than the weekend's cyclocross races.
At 6:30PM we were walking into PetSmart with our new puppy, Ginger. She was a spur of the moment thing, I had seen an email this AM about how a shelter in OH was euthanizing weekly at 9:30AM. I looked up the shelter on petfinder, and there she was. The shelter hours were 9-5, and we squealed into the parking lot at 4:58PM, pointed to her, paid our $14, and by 5:01 we were introducing Fred to his new little sister.
Now the burning questions:
1. How old is she? We're guessing roughly 4 months. There will be a trip to the vet for checkup and shots soon!
2. How much does she weight? Once again, we're guessing, but around 15lbs
3. What breed is she? Er...we don't know. Looks like some labrador retriever, but the face markings have me baffled. Essentially her face is cream colored with a brown stripe down her nose.
4. Has Fred eaten her yet? Surprisingly, she appears to be ruling the roost. Currently she's under the table chewing his bone. For the most part he just looks like he's wondering when she's going back.
Bike races that don't allow dogs should be completely banned. Bike racing and dogs go together like milk and cookies.
Sigh. Of course this is not a knock on promoters, these decisions are foisted upon them by the venues. The traveling with dog thing is our choice. I'm just not looking forward to leaving Fred locked up this weekend while we're at the races. Fortunately the people we're staying with have kids who will be willing to let him out of the house to stretch his legs, if necessary.
Oh and Maryland? None of their state parks allow dogs. At all. Leash or no, clean up after them or no. If Fred had a middle toe, he'd flip off the Maryland parks department.
A pox on all of you dog hating types. I hope your cats scratch you. Sigh.
The Historical Society is coming! The Historical Society is coming!
A couple of weeks ago, when we got back from Asheville, we found a letter in our mailbox from our township. Basically some hoity toity historical society is going to be checking out our area, and the letter asked us (collectively, not Chris and I in particular) to move our shit off the lawn. (couched in much politer words). What? We can't offer the historical society a beer from our college fridge while we sit on our sofa on the porch?
I sort of assumed that it was just our street getting the letter because everyone on the street rents. Including the folks at the end with a billion kids and toys all over the yard. These are pretty cool rentals, too. Our place is between 80 and 90 years old, with loads of character (alas little insulation to go with that). So I figured the historical society had a thing for old rental buildings. But my carpoolmate, who lives in the same township, (and owns) was asking me pretty indignantly if we had gotten the same letter. So at least it's not just us. It sort of reminds me of the old bumper sticker
The questions are: Are there any treats upwind? How about squirrels, deer, or cats? Is Dad's post-race chamois upwind? Has Mom been eating chili again?
It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm…of pish, and crawls insanely up to the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.
-H.L. Mencken
By Ken Levine One of the writers from the TV series M*A*S*H writes about Hollywood, showbiz, etc
Class Factotum She's Baaaacccckkkkk. And as funny as ever!
Cobb I'm fascinated on this man's ponderings on being American. And being black. And being an African-American.
Confessions of a Pioneer Woman She makes me laugh. Any woman who has named her own disease - Low Blood Sugar Cranky Butt Disorder - is ok by me.
Cute Overload OK! I admit it, I love a website which uses terms like "prosh" and "paws-up-itude". I'm pretty sure I will have my engineering degree taken away now.
Fatmarc Mountain Bike, Cyclo-cross...is there anything this man doesn't do?
I'm sort of torn between sorry I couldn't be there to help out, and sort of relieved that I spent the weekend lounging with the pups.
