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Welcome to the BOMB.

The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

My photo
My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my thirteen year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my two year old gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

"Bombs Bursting in Air"

My first couple encounters with  Resident Advisors (RAs)  occurred during late night bombing exercises of nearby Fort Hood in 1986.

One particular RA did not  like me, and falsely accused me of making too much late night noise on several different occasions. I was an older student nurse and very respectful of the rules although I thought some of the rules were overly restrictive.  I never was the noise-maker, so I was getting put out with her accusations.  

One particular night she flew up the stairs to my 3rd floor corner dorm room, and threw the door open,  after barely tapping.  She shook with rage as she stood, framed in the doorway,  and accused me and my roomy of jumping on the bunk beds--twice in the same night!

The first time, caught me so off-guard I was speechless.

However, after I recovered from my initial shock, I realized Ft Hood was in the middle of bombing practice--you'd have thought an Air Force Brat who had grown up listening to bombing  manuvers would have blurted it out the first time she accused us.  I can only attribute my silence  to my shock. Anyway, the second visit from the Wicked RA of the West, I was prepared for her.  

I looked at her like she was a three-headed monster from outter space, and with as much disdain as I could force into my voice, I asked her just how we were supposed to be jumping on bunk beds we couldn't even sit up straight on.  

Before she gathered her wits enough to come up with a plausible answer, another bomb exploded and the windows rattled so hard I feared they would break. 

She wheeled around and stormed off  without another word--not even an apology.

Not too long thereafter, they were advertising for another RA. I was relieved--she was far too high-strung for that campus job.

It's been a while since I've heard the bombs at Ft Hood that loud--but tonight they rival that long ago bombing maneuver. 

I half expect my door to fly open and a crazed woman to start shaking her finger in my face, accusing the FurBoys and me of swinging from the ceiling fan....😉

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Rockin' the Purple Hair

I am rocking purple hair today.  Even though I'm considering adding purple peek-a-boo color, my purple hair color today is all-over.  And it's unintentional.  In fact, I didn't even realize it was purple until a co-worker commented on it after our meeting in the Executive Board Room this morning. 

I argued.

She persisted, and even said she thought I was gearing up for the  game on Saturday, when  my AlmaMater, #1 ranked, and  current D3 Champions, University of Mary Hardin-Baylor Crusaders,  takes on the #10 ranked Brockport Golden Eagles from Doylstown, PA, in the NCAA D3 Semifinal showdown here at Crusader Stadium.


I ducked into the nearest bathroom for a look-see, and sure enough, the mirror reflected purple hair.

Okay, it's not really purple.  It's more of a lavender tint around my temples. But it is noticeable enough several people commented on it.

Walking through the maze of hospital corridors to the Swamp Room that is my shared office, I pondered my actions this morning, trying to determine what I did differently to cause me to end up with purple hair.

I knew I used the wrong blue shampoo (not all brands are the same and I am currently out of my favorite, so I'm using an inferior brand). However, even the inferior blue shampoo has never turned my hair purple before.  Besides, I did not leave shampoo residue in my hair, so the shampoo couldn't be the culprit--unless the manufacturer  changed the formula. Since the packaging didn't say "new and improved," I doubted there has been a formula change. I'm pretty sure I can discount the shampoo as the cause.

Simetimes surroundings can influence the way we perceive color, so I wondered if my purple top could be reflecting onto my hair.  It is not. When I removed my top in the  ladies room and peered into the mirror my 'do continued to reflect a soft purple. 

Puzzled, I thought back to the last time my hair was in fact purple. I intentionall styled it with purple glitter infused hair gel for a couple football games earlier in the season.


On the second occasion I added a purple temporary hair coloring. In fact, it was so temporary all I did to remove it was simply brush it out.

And then it hit me.

I have not completely  unpacked from my recent trip to Florida. My hair brush and flat iron are MIA so I used one of my spare hair brushes this morning.

And the spare hairbrush I used this morning  was the same brush I  used when I brushed the purple dye out of my hair. I deduced the spare hairbrush must still have purple dye residue on its bristles. I'm brilliant with after-the-fact deductions.

Since I wasn't brilliant earlier in the day--like this morning before I left the house--I've thrown "Cs" to my fellow Cru-workers all day long as I totally rocked the purple hair--just as if my purple hair was intentional.