Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Puppy Paw-jama Party

You know the party has started when poop ends up on the roof!

You want to know how that poop bag ended up on the roof, don't you?

Anything is possible in the Addiverse. Even a poop bag on the roof.

Incredibly, this poop flung itself right on to the Gaybors' roof! If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. One minute, it was in my hand... the next, it was on the roof. Baby Jesus, I believe!

All right, all right, I confess--I was twirling the poop bag, filled with Bitty Bichon's poop, I might add--when I accidently to let it go. Well, okay--I was aiming for the poop bucket in the Gaybors' driveway while twirling the poop bag..... Imagine my surprise when that bag took off like a rocket! It reached a cruising altitude of 37,000 feet, then came screaming down, right onto the roof. Bitty, Brown Dog and I just stood there......

These kind of things only happen when other people aren't around, so I took a photo of it. Some people may ask "why?" I ask, "what the heck not?"

Anyways....the Puppy Paw-jama Party has officially begun! I am dog-sitting for the gaybors and am hosting my first ever four-dog puppy paw-jama party.

This in itself is not big news; after all, I spend plenty of time with Bitty Bichon and Brown Dog and I'm always with my dogs. What makes this bigger news is that the wife is out of town and I'm thus on my own for the paw-ty.

This isn't very big news, either... unless one considered how much Lucy HATES Bitty Bichon: this is a photo of Lucy hiding behind the toy basket. If you could hear her, you'd hear her snarling. Hate, hate, hate. I'm not sure how she is going to survive. I think she may sleep in the toy basket..... it's gonna be a long night for Lucy

The biggest news is truly.....that I am leading a puppy pajama party without the wife, with poop on the roof....on a school night!

I figure sleep will not be had, but perhaps I will be pleasantly surprised.....but, the look on Bitty's face suggests otherwise....pray for me and Lucy!!!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Another Year, Another Lemon Cake 

 Regular readers might recall last year's "Ode to a Lemon Cake." Well, I like that lemon cake so much I'll be eating it again this year. I like that cake so much I am going to re-post the Ode. I like that cake so much I took the time to search my computer files to found a photo of the said lemon cake. Envision blueberries balancing on top and swimming around this cake, luscious zesty lemon frosting dripping slowly onto the plate. My day of birth will be spent in a car--seven or eight hours in a car--and in a place far from home, surrounded in the land of legislators. Ah, work--it calls whenever it wants, it respects no day of birth. It doesn't matter....because as I return home, I will have one thing on my mind: homemade lemon cake with blueberries and zesty lemon frosting. 

  And now, I present to you....Ode to a Lemon Cake. 
Thank you, dear wife, for remembering my comment of how I wanted this cake for my birthday. 
Thank you for taking the time to make it. 
Thank you, Phlange-a-slam, for bringing this delicacy into my life. 
 Thank you, Bon Appetit for publishing this gem. 
 Thank you, Abigail-the-recipe-creator, for being born. I dedicate this ode to all of you. Yum! 

Bright little ball of sunshine beaming from the plate tangy yet sweet glaze glimmering, inviting sifted powdered sugar and lemon juice simple beauty, simple elegance. 
How can something so sour be so sweet? 
  Rays of sunshine 
Bites of heaven 
Morsels of love 
My lips pucker with the first sour but sweet bite. 
the tanginess whets my appetite for more I shut my eyes to enjoy every golden mouthful. Cornmeal texture buttermilk delight Lemon peels oozing zest
I am in love with you, Lemon Cornmeal Cake! 
Bright yellow swims in a sea of blue berries bobble on the surface
sauce slo-o-o-owly dripping sauce slowly seeping in sauce 
bringing just the right balance of color, of taste, of texture, of love. 
Called a rustic cake with zing from lemon glaze 
I know you will make a great companion to breakfast, lunch or dinner 
I picture you next to ice cream 
I picture you in my bowl of cereal 
I picture you with whipped cream... 
who dares not love you? 
Lemon Cornmeal Cake such an earthly delight I still love you, 
beans of cocoa but, 
for this moment in time 
for this moment of sunshine
for this glorious mouth-watering moment
lemon outshines the wrapper of a Dove Dark chocolate square 
and I cheat on you. 

 I feel no guilt, no remorse. 

Bright little ball of sunshine beaming from the plate tangy yet sweet simple beauty, simple elegance. 
How can something so sour be so sweet? ******************************************************************

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

This ain't no Beetle Bailey

It's my absolute favorite time of year. The grass is still green. The days are super long. The fire flies are finally out. The yuccas are blooming. The gardens look gorgeous. It's not brutally hot yet. Yeah for late June!

I've only got a few minutes before I have to get busy at work (yes, I said work; I'm tired of saying "the place of which I do not speak," because I am all good with them telling me I can't write about work because at this point I am going to write about whatever I damn well please), so I am going to talk about bugs.

The dreaded Japanese beetles are reportedly back in town, although I have yet to see one. I am ready, tho. Those bugs won't know what hit them. I've replaced my blog header, again employing the beetle theme. Hit the road, beetle!

A bigger problem in town is the gypsy moth. I'm telling you, it's gross. They literally cover the base of the tree and eat their way up, killing the tree by chomping all the leaves to smithereens. I was wondering why people had wrapped their trees with saran wrap and now I know--they wrap the tree with the saran wrap and cover it with Vasoline, so the caterpillars can't climb up to the leaves. In the meantime, there is a HUGE pile of undulating wormy things at the base of the tree. Rumor has it that you have to use a shop vac to suck them up because they really, really stink if you leave them there to die. Yum.

I have decided Mother Nature will keep most Japanese beetles out of our lives and that she has found our backyard incompatible for gypsy moth caterpillars.

As Madonna says, "I've only got four minutes," so that's it for today. Tomorrow or Thursday, I'll try to remember to post my "Ode to a Lemon Cake," because it is a classic that deserves to be posted at this very favorite time of year.....

Friday, June 18, 2010

Thank you, Universe!

Ask, Believe, Receive!

An addendum to my last blog posting:

My Beloved Lady Chiropractor just called. Well, okay--her office called, she didn't personally call. But, the news was so good that it was almost as good as MBLC calling herself. Seems I have a huge balance on my account AND the cost of an adjustment for those without insurance coverage is ridiculously reasonable. Super reasonable!!! Soooooo, my stalking affair with My Beloved Lady Chiropractor can continue uninterrupted.

Is this a great life or what???!!!
You Don't Know Jack

It's always a long work week when you return from vacation. This time was no exception. The only difference is that I've learned to hang on to little bits and pieces of all the fun we had....I use vacation photos as my desktop background at work. Hardly a new idea but always good to remember.

Here's a little "don't-let-the-door-hit-you-in-the-ass as-you-leave" diddy. Now that my insurance coverage has changed, I am making some big decisions in my life. For instance, My Beloved Lady Chiropractor may no longer be on the radar. This is too horrible to contemplate, so I am awaiting their call to see how much it will cost to visit MBLC. Perhaps she'll give me a stalker discount. One easy decision was to stop seeing my "I talk, you don't-get-to-talk even-tho-it's-your-money" psychiatrist. (Don't worry. I'm not really crazy. Well, just a little. Okay, so I'm still a stalker but there is no pill to cure that. Besides, everyone should have a psychiatrist. That way if you do get crazy, you'll know because someone will be able to confirm this.)

So, I call Dr. JackAss' office and explain my change of insurance. I inquire about the cost for self-pay clients. I only go a few times a year, so I figure it won't be too bad. I've known the guy since 1999, so I figure that will help. The receptionist says, "It is $225 for 30 minutes and this must be paid before the session takes place." I suppose it is a good thing to ask for payment up front when working with crazy people. As I really am in no mood to pay some guy all that money to listen to him talk, I cancel my next appointment and tell the lady I will not be returning.

I get home today and there is a letter in the mail from his doctor-ness himself, complete with his real signature (which is really something, if you think about it--I would think he would pay some minion to do menial tasks like this). The wife has seen the letter and can attest to the fact that I am not exaggerating what the short letter had to "say." Basically, the note said: too bad, so sad. I am closing your case. Please keep taking your meds."

Of course, he didn't exactly spell out how the hell I am supposed to get the prescription for the meds.....

.....Which leads to the meds:

I want to profess my love for Costco.


I am so in love with them that I thought they deserved bold, italic and large font.

I am here to tell you that it is absolutely true that you can use the Costco pharmacy (at a store, on line, mail order) whether or not you are a member. (Thank you, Cool Mama!) I am not a member of Costco because we have no Costco store anywhere even remotely to where we live. Member or not, here is some awesome news: My one pill costs $300-500 per month, depending on where you look...the generic about $150-225. Trust me, I've searched the globe in regards to med prices. Costco's price for the generic of the pill was $17.00. At first, I thought there must be a mistake, but further examination proved otherwise. No one else came close to the Costco prices. I was very skeptical but thought I'd try it. I still had a written prescription for Dr. JackAss, so I sent it in. One week later, I was holding a bottle of the exact same pills I have been taking, with an invoice for $17.00. I don't know who is in charge of Costco and I don't know how they can sell my med so cheap but I am so happy about this that I would gladly do a happy dance down the aisles of the nearest Costco store.

Now, about getting that next written prescription....

......I haven't crossed that hurdle yet but I'm feeling mighty fine about it. If I can get my med for $17 while other places are charging almost $500 for it, I know good times are ahead. I can do just about anything! Well, good times are ahead as long as I can continue to see My Beloved Lady Chiropractor.....

....and, I have complete faith that my stalking days of her will indeed be able to continue. Who needs a Jack Ass when you can have a beloved Lady Chiropractor?????? :-)

Sunday, June 13, 2010

There go the Brides

Isn't it something how vacation goes so fast that you can barely get your bags unpacked and it's already over? Although I miss the dogs, I cannot say I missed much of anything else. (Well, the gaybors--we missed the gaybors.) Alas, our time with Dos Marias is screaming to an end. It has been a spectacular time, with every minute enjoyed.
Here I am, standing on top of the world (well, on top of Mt. Talcott, anyway), wearing my "hostage sweatshirt," of which I wore every day of vacation. Thankfully, I was able to wash it mid-week and no one was tortured by said sweatshirt. I hadn't planned on it being so cool, so it was either wear the damn sweatshirt every day or freeze. I suppose I could have gone shopping but nothing more would fit in my carry on bag and so I had to go with what I already owned. My trifocals made it a bit hairy standing on the cliff's edge, as it distorts things to the point that I got a milli-second woozy and thus had to scamper from the scenic photo opportunity and grab a piece of more solid ground.
Dos Marias have been the best hostesses on the planet. I don't know how we can ever appropriately and sufficiently thank them. They made it possible for us to enjoy a vacation we probably wouldn't have otherwise been able to take. For Pete's sake, they borrowed us their Acura (dont' think I was in sheer terror driving that thing), they fed us, they took us to awesome places, they gave us a free place to stay (both at their house and at "W," the hotel in New York City--gotta love those frequent flier miles they rack up by the minute), they made coffee for me every day. They made sure we knew how to get to and from the wedding, they let us use their computer hours at a time, they indulged my Book de la Face addiction, they found me incredible vegetarian places to feed my face, they made sure there was chocolate in the house. Thank you from the bottom of our midwestern hearts, Dos Marias.
The wedding, ah the wedding. You will think I am being dramatic when I say it was probably the best wedding I have ever been to....but, it was. From the reading of the Massachusetts Supreme Court ruling on same-sex marriage (now, THAT'S a way to start a wedding ceremony) to 30 kids playing the violin as part of the ceremony (Suzuki DeFranco is a violin teacher), it was a wondrous event......however....
The event I am about to recall is absolutely true, with not one shred of exaggeration. You can ask the wife, as she was there and was appropriately mortified. I was sitting in the end seat of the pew so I could get fabulous photos of the brides as they marched down the aisle. As I have big feet and as I have distorted vision, I didn't exactly know that one of my feet were kinda sorta in the aisle. So, I am snapping photos left and right and here comes the step father, unsteadily pushing a walker up my side of the aisle. He was tentative at best. He gets to me and BONK! Comes to a complete stop. Why? Because his walker has just bumped right into my foot. How he didn't go down, I do not know. Step Father grabs his footing, gives me the death look stink eye.....I profusely but quietly apologize, pulled my foot out of the way and felt appropriately mortified. The wife was even more mortified. I thank the Baby Jesus that he didn't go down for the count. I would never have forgiven myself for that.
The reception was a gala event, complete with bridesmaids removing various articles of clothing so we could get a photo of all our tattoos together. That's a photo of the wedding cake. How can you have a bad time when the bride and bride refer to themselves as Ernie and Bert? The wife was able to reconnect with some former students and peers from a previous job and I was able to do the Cupid Shuffle, so all was well in the world.
Now it is time for us to return to the Flatlands, happy and tired, grateful and rejuvenated. We are armed with a boatload of photos and many a fun story. Adios, Dos Marias! Adios, Connecticut and brides.....
....Thank you, eight pound six ounce Baby Jesus. Watch your walker when I'm in town.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Time in New England

Our vacation adventures with Dos Marias started at a frenetic pace and haven't stopped since. I was a little leery about how the trip was going to go when it started with the O'Hare security confiscating the wife's hair care products. Oops. I forgot to tell her that they would be going through her carry-on bag and that there was a limit of liquids she could bring on the plane. If you know the wife and her need for hair care products and if you know the wife's taste in hair care products (read: expensive), you know this was not a happy moment. I had no idea she had that much crap--er, I mean bottles filled with liquid--in her carry-on. Suffice it to say that it was with great disdain that she said adios to her Aveda and other hair-survival products. In addition to the expensive, real-sized bottles, she also has a billion little bottles of samples from all the places we've been in the bag--the security lady educated the wife on the limits for liquids but didn't take them away, as I think she knew the wife was already suicidal and thus had a shred of pity about the little bottles.

Note to self: remember to tell wife about rules of flying. At least she knew to take off her shoes.



The flight was fabulous and before we knew it, we were on the ground, in the arms of Dos Marias. Cue the "Time in New England" music. Dos Marias live in a beautiful house on many acres of land somewhere in very north-central Connecticut. It is an absolutely gorgeous place with spectacular view. (Have I mentioned that we are ever-so-grateful to these two fine friends? There are no finer people on the planet than Dos Marias.) Lots of green, lush, softly-rolling hills (mountains?), small-town, colonial feel. Delicious!

The wife had never been to New York City, so it was fun to take the train to Grand Central Station and tourist around Time Square. We did a little of everything, from strolling Central Park to riding the subway, from visiting the Empire State Building to enjoying the Metropolitan Art Museum. We even squeezed a taxi ride in there, which made the trip complete. What is a visit to NYC without a taxi ride? Although it rained the entire first day in NYC, it did not dampen our experience or our spirits. After all, a little healing rain must fall into one's life. We just popped out the three umbrellas Dos Marias had wisely packed (um, three umbrellas, four people....the wife was "odd man out" as she had a windbreaker with her...and a hat....she had to fend for herself). I ate some fafalel or however you spell/say it and the wife had a traditional NYC hot dog (which did not agree with her and returned quite quickly). We stayed a "W," probably our most favorite hotel chain on the planet. Dos Marias ROCK! For some reason, my inner compass has been on the fritz and thus I had us going in circles or the opposite direction for part of the day, map be damned.

To end our NYC adventure, we stopped in New Haven, CT for a vegetarian dream dinner. Dos Marias did their research and found this amazing restaurant that was completely vegetarian. I was in hog heaven, no pun intended. I wanted to weep when looking at the menu. I started my meal with a vegan chocolate cupcake and it only got better from there...in fact, it was so delicious that I didn't want to leave and I thought about buying a few extra meals to bring home with us. There is nothing like this restaurant where we live. Nothing. (Heck, I'm not sure there are even vegetarians where we live.) Everything was vegetarian (or vegan) and home-made. The choices were incredible. The prices were reasonable. Ten stars. I give it ten stars out of ten.

Today's adventures will include shopping (no buying of liquids in bottles for the wife), hiking, eating and hooking-up-a-router-wireless-connection (into every vacation a little "work" must fall). Tomorrow is the wedding, so we are very excited. I can't wait to stroll the grounds of Amherst College once again.

Since I've finally figured out how to upload photos from my cell phone to Book de la Face and since Dos Marias have graciously allowed me ample time on their computer, I haven't had many moments of withdrawal. Don't think I haven't had moments of worry regarding Madge, my Book de la Face dog. (Who will feed her?) As for work....

....work? What's that? No thoughts of that until this moment of realizing I had not thought of work. What a wonderful vacation this really is.....

Monday, June 07, 2010

Here Come the Brides

Before we begin, here is a commercial message:

Dearest Three Hawk,
You don't need no stinkin' uterus.
Love, the Addiverse


They’ve always said you shouldn’t tell anyone when you are going on vacation, but I am going to tell you we are just about to go on vacation. I can tell you with confidence, as we have two dog sitters staying on the premises, the dogs will be on the premises and the neighbors will be watching the dog watchers. Safety all around us.

We are preparing for our trip out east, to visit Dos Marias (formerly of San Diego) and to attend Suzuki DeFranco’s wedding. We love traveling with Dos Marias as they are the perfect hostesses and incredible tour guides. We visited them three times (or, was it four?) in San Diego and once in Puerto Rico….I can’t believe they actually, purposefully invited us to visit their new abode in Connecticut. Travel plans include a visit to New York City including Time Square, Central Park & Grand Central Station. The wife is in for a treat as she has never been there. Suzuki’s wedding is in Massachusetts but those states are so small out there that it’s only an hour from where we are staying in Connecticut. The wedding will be at Amherst College, Suzuki’s alma mater. We’ve visited the school before but not when Suzuki was there (how weird is that?). As blog readers might remember, I am very happy we are flying on a big plan, none of those ridiculous puddle-jumpers they tried to get me on. I need at least 100 seats and a beverage cart.

This is how I get ready for a vacation: Stare at closet. Go update Facebook status. Stuff clothes in school-sized back pack. Shove chocolate in back pack. Stuff flight itinerary and travel information in backpack. Write a blog. Scribble out directions for the dog sitters. Go to the bank and get some money. Paint toe nails. Eat lunch. Finish blog. I’m a simple girl.

The wife’s preparation is much more complicated and includes making lists of lists of the lists she has made. Study weather channel. Identify perfect wardrobe. Bathe the dogs, wash the dishes, change the sheets, mow the lawn, pay the bills, wash all the dog bedding, wash every morsel of clothing in the house, pack the bag, re-pack the bag, get a bigger bag, re-re-pack the bag, write dissertation for dog sitters, clean the house, make a new list, water the plants, find world peace, get money, reconsider what has been packed and re-re-re-pack, wash the car, go to the store, etc. The list is too long to truly write in one blog. I need a nap just thinking about it.

We will spend several days with Dos Marias, do our touristy things, then move on to the wedding events. I am very excited because this will be the first same-sex wedding we have ever been to. Of course, now I have just “outed” Ms. Suzuki De Franco but I’m sure she’s all good with that; after all, this is a “real” wedding with real heterosexual guests and real invitations and real flower girl (or, perhaps a flower boy). Both are brides, so don’t be asking me any silly questions about “who is the guy in the relationship?” Grandparents, parents, step parents, siblings, step siblings, partners of said siblings. Long lost friends and family…all part of the shindig.

Just think, our friend Phlange-a-slam (Suzuki's mama) is "Mother of A bride." Can't exactly call her mother OF the bride.

It’s wild that big ol’ gays can legally get married in Massachusetts. We, being from the flatlands where such evens are not legal, are quite curious about this. We are also quite curious about how the “I’ve-never-seen-two-girls-kiss-before-crowd” will react to all this. After all, it freaked us out the first time we saw such behavior and we are gay, for pete’s sake.

My biggest concern for the entire vacation is what to wear. It’s hard to stuff enough clothes in a school-sized back pack to cover the spectrum of weather that might occur. It might be 50 degrees; it might be 100 degrees. Hell, I’ll just buy what I need. (I plan to wear my high school alumni sweatshirt as part of the trip so I can post photos of myself on FB as a reminder of the upcoming event.) I'm not worried bout the wedding, as I would guess anything goes. I do have a fabulous pair of white capris that will be quite the hit, I am sure. We are not checking bags, so we really are stuffing things in. If my back pack bursts, I'll be sure to take a photo.

I hope they aren't gonna make me take my shoes off at O'Hare; however, in the name of safety, I will do as I am told and be very happy to do so. If they ask me to open my back pack, tho....it won't be pretty. There is NO way I can get that stuff back in there.....

Friday, June 04, 2010


Tell Us, Tiny Talus

Regular readers know Pastor Master Reiki and Blue Eyes are dear, dear friends. Those of you just joining us in the Addiverse don't know this, but that's okay. You'll have to trust me they are delightful people.

Dearest Pastor Master had surgery on her talus bone early this week--a bone that I didn't even know existed until she started talking about it.  In order to educate myself, I surfed around...if you want learn more about the talus bone, here you go. (This information is gleaned from www.drmyerson.com (nerds click here)

"The talus is a critical bone of the ankle joint. It connects the leg and the foot. The talus is involved in multiple planes of movement. It joins the ankle joint and is responsible for the upward and downward movement of the ankle. In addition, it joins the heel bone where it is responsible for the majority of the inward and outward movement of the foot. Injuries of the talus may therefore effect both the ankle and subtalar joint and affect multiple planes of movement of the foot and ankle.
"

Who knew?

Where was my brain during anatomical drawing class? Obviously nowhere near the talus bone.

If it were "just" a broken talus bone, I think Pastor Master Reiki would be dancing on tables by now. Unfortunately, she has been faced with "Avascular necrosis of the talus," which according to the websites of the world "can be quite devastating." Yeah, that necrosis word means "dying," as in
"oh my, my talus bone is dying," which is not a good thing at all. So, Pastor Master had few choices--dead talus is a bad talus--she had a procedure where the surgeon drilled holes in her talus (from the same website as above):
"Drilling of the talus....creating a hole with either a drill or a device that looks like a kitchen tool used to core an apple, that we can increase the blood supply to the talus. The drilling creates little holes and channels that allow tiny little blood vessels to grow and improve the blood supply to the talus."

Yum.

As you can imagine, this does not lead to much fun at all; in fact, I would guess having your hemorrhoids removed with garden shears would be more fun.

Right now, PMR is recovering on the couch (and I'm typing on her computer. Big help I am). I wanted to show you how creative and inventive she is--she experiences great pain when her foot "drops" down....so, she is using exercise tubing to keep her foot arched. What a woman! I'm sure it is an even bigger help that I am taking photos of this while she churns in pain. (I promise you more photos as the healing progresses.)

Happy, healing thoughts are deeply appreciated at this time. Even if you only have a shred of belief, please picture the tiny talus healthy, whole, healing. In the mean time, be nice to your tiny talus. You're gonna need it.