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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.)

Thursday, December 15, 2011

"Thomasina" May Be Dead--Really Dead This Time.

I named my iPhone "Thomasina" after the 1960s Disney film "The Three Lives of Thomasina."  It was a story about a cat and the impact she had on her family. The Father, a Veterinarian who mistakenly believed the only animals worth saving were working animals, lost his faith in God when his Wife died. The Daughter turned her heart against her Father when he failed to save her cat, Thomasina, who the children took to the pretty "witch" in the woods with the request to bring her back to life. Then the Daughter became ill, and she lost the will to live. It was a Disney film, so of course  the "Witch" and the Veterinarian initially get together when protesting the harsh treatment of the Gypsies donkeys--this common bond led to their falling in love. As luck would have it, Thomasina was brought back to life and as she slowly overcame her amnesia, she remembered bits and pieces of her former life and she returned to the Daughter "just in the nick of time" to save her life. They all lived happily ever after as a family. The story was narrated by Thomasina.  I love that sappy-happy story.  The verdict is still out on my iPhone having a sappy-happy ending.

My iPhone, Thomasina, died when she hit the floor the other day. I keep hoping she will revive herself, like she did when Bandit drowned her a few months back. Pre-drowning=Thomasina's First Life. Post-drowning=Thomasina's Second Life.  If Thomasina heals herself after this fall, it will be her Third Life--just like the Disney cat.

I'm trying to give Thomasina enough time to revive--I bought her  too quickly when my last phone died--within a day or two of purchasing Thomasina, the  old phones white screen returned to normal. Had I put off the iPhone purchase, I would probably still be using the other phone. 

So far I've given Thomasina two full days to recover. There are still some signs of life in the old girl (e.g. the initial white screen has changed to a white screen with vertical stripes on the right-hand side--and when plugged into my MAC, her background color changed to chartreuse. Also her alarms and alerts continue to sound, etc.); however, Thomasina's healing is not looking we are back to a white screen w/vertical right-hand lines.  Time will tell. But once again, the holidays are approaching and I am without a I have to decide how much time I will allow for the healing of Thomasina--maybe if she is resurrected on the fourth day I can rename her "Lazarus."  I'm just not sure I can last two more days.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011


Quite a few years ago I wrote a Children's Story as the B-day gift for the daughter of a friend. It's a simple story and I had fun during the writing process. I sent it to a publisher I met at a Writers Conference Retreat weekend. Nothing ever came of it--except I received a personal rejection letter from the publisher rather than a form letter from an assistant of an assistant. (FYI: You're supposed to be really impressed with the personalized, high-level of my rejection.)

Several years ago I was driving home from St. Louis and I came to a wonderfully picturesque  area on old Route 66 which was dotted with interesting barns, antique shops, flea markets, and herds of cows mooing at their gates,  etc. I was intrigued by the different colored tags in the ears of the cows and wondered at the different meanings they might have.  The vague form of a second Children's Story started to take shape. I jotted down a few ideas of the adventures of a couple of calf-sisters and a "moral" of the story. I also took "inspiration pictures" of the area and a few of the cows. I thought I saved the information to a computer file or a note on my iPhone. Try as hard as I might, I can not locate the information. I recall one of the adventures involved escaping from a flash-flood in a canyon. I know nothing about the nature of flash-floods in canyons or how one would escape. I would like to include factual and realistic--but simple--escape plans; however,  I never seem to be at a computer to google this information when I think of it. Those are just a few of my excuses for not attempting to write the story.

About six months ago, I was at one of my favorite Half Price Books store perusing the $1 Clearance Rack when I spotted "The Worst Case Scenario Book of Survival Questions."  My friend, Alicia, had been reading a book in which the heroin faced every natural disaster known to man except a swarm of locusts and the Death Angel passing over, and quite frankly, by the end of the book even they may have made an appearance! I thought the calf-sisters should face several hard-ships or adventures with increasingly "bad" things happening to them--but not so bad as to be nightmare-inducing to young readers. When I saw the Scenario book, I bought it thinking it would be a great resource if I ever did write the story of the calf-sisters.

I still have not read the Scenario book. Nor have I found the outline or notes I made on the calf-sister story-line and moral. Last night I glanced through the Scenario book ISO information related to surviving flash-floods, or any disaster in a canyon setting.  This particular Scenario book does not have this information. But, I found a "Survival Aptitude" test at the end of the book and decided to take the test and rate myself.  I viewed the test as a sort of "pre-test."  After I actually read the book I'll take it again as a "post-test" and see how much I've improved in my survival skills knowledge.

I thought I did pretty well on the test...until I tallied my score.

According to the Scenario book,  I am "an accident waiting to happen." And the parting sentence of advice to me was, "Try not to leave the house."  Presumably, because I would die or at the very least, be harmed. Seriously.  In fact, the Scenario book classified me as "Bait." I'm pretty sure Martha Stewart would not say, "this is a good thing." In fact, I'm thinking, I may not be safe to be around!  Maybe I should go ahead and retire to a cabin in the woods in order to spare my friends, coworkers, and total strangers I come into contact with while walking on the street or shopping, from suffering some terrible disaster because they come into contact with me.  Of course,  the woods can be full of "Lions, and Tigers, and Bears...Oh,  My!"

On second thought, since I'm "bait,"  retiring to a cabin in the woods might not be the safest place for me! This has got me to wondering where would be a safe place for me to retire?  So far, I have only come up with the safety net below the tight-rope at the three-ring circus. But, now that I think of it, while I would probably feel at home among the flurry of activity at the circus, with my luck an acrobat would fall from the wire above and land on me.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

I Like Suprizes...Usually

I like suprizes...usually...when they're good. But honestly, spending the 23rd Anniversary of my 29th B-day eatting Bandit's dog food is not what I had planned!

I had planned to be in Florida visiting Family and Friends, and was toying with taking a flying lesson or driving a NasCar race car--or even going on the hot air ballon ride I had to give up last year (I still "owe" myself that one).   Instead, I was spending $230 to buy Bandit's freedom from the Vet's boarding facility he called "home" as I recooperated from a "day" surgery that ended up being a 4-day/3-night hospital stay, and a week and a half at Lindas house while I was unable to drive or manage my rambunctious Boy.  I was so glad to have him, I didn't even scold him when he ate my BBQ left-overs and an almost new  bag of Bacon Jerky! Yummy!!!   So how did that translate into eatting Bandit's dog  food? 

I was thrilled to be driving again, and had run a lot of errands: WalMart, Bank, Credit Union, December Tags for the SUV, TxTag Coustmer Service in person--in Austin--to take care of a problem  I could not seem to take care of on line, etc. I became a little hungry--but not hungry enough to stop for a meal, and Bandit had already consummed my left-overs and jerky, so I reached over to the snack basket in the passeger seat and withdrew one of the ziplock bags. It was nearly empty and unlabled. I wondered if it was the cajun sesame sticks or the sweet sesame sticks. I withdrew a few of the nuggets and thought how unlikely it was that they were all nuggets or peanuts--and none of my favorites--the sesame sticks. I popped them into my mouth.

Crunch, crunch, crunch...hummm....not spicy.
Crunch, crunch, crunch...hummm....not sweet.
Crunch, crunch, crunch...hummm....What's the likelihood that all 3-4 are tasteless "duds?"
Crunch, crunch--ewwwwwwwww!!!!  Realization hit me!

I had started to munch Bandit's food!  I keep a small baggie of his dog food in the car because one of the Belton Sonic's, has spoiled him by giving him treats when we visit.  He now barks his "order" at every Sonic. Unfortunately not all Sonic's are forward-thinking, pet-friendly eateries. So I've started to carry a small bag of dog food or treats in case they are out or we go to a Sonic that doesn't have them. This way he's got his own food and he's not begging mine. I remembered putting it into the snack basket and actually thinking, "now, all the snacks will be together--Bandit's and mine."  Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time--in fact, I was quite proud of myself for attempting to become organized...

Now, I realize my folly, because I have a mouthful of dog food and I'm searching frantically for something to spit it into--of course, in my quest to become organized, I'd just thrown the BBQ  "to go" container and extra napkins away when I pumped gas; therfore, I had nothing in which to spit this mess.  I ended up spitting the crunched up dog food into my hand before I remembered I had the gas receipt from the recent fill-up in my pocket. I dug it out and transfered the muck from my hand into the receipt.  Organization is highly over-rated.

Yep...I ususually enjoy a suprize...when it's a good one.  Just in case you're wondering...I didn't consider this a good one.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Ode to Proficiency 2011

Ode to Proficiency 2011

How do you love me?  I'll help you count the ways....
You love me enough to encourage me to  sing my everlasting praise.
You love me for the wondrous miracles I daily do perform.
You love me in spite of comments I make that bring about the storm.

You love me for the committees on which I diligently have served.
You love me for the improvement opportunities I inform you I've observed.
You love me for the SMART-goaled care plans I research and then I write.
You love me for dealing with the problems that I help come into the light.

You love me for providing entertainment and cheering my coworkers on.
You love me for dressing like a rock star and singing an encouraging song.
You love me for taking ownership for more than what I'm tasked.
You love me for asking hard questions that truly need to be asked. 

You love me for my opinions, which I so freely share.
You love me for inspiring the color of your newly graying hair.
You love me for telling you the truth, no matter what the cost.
You love me for the untold hours of sleep that because of me you've lost.

Alas you do not love me enough for my banker to be extra pleased- 
'Cuz this year I'm not eligible for my pay-step to be increased.  :^(
So next year, my current accomplishments I'll have to outdo,
In order to help you sing the praises of your one and only Mary Lou!   ;^)

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Falling Back

It's that time of year again: The return to Standard Time. Daylight Savings Time is a "short-timer."  I love falling back.  I love the extra hour of sleep. I wouldn't mind falling back every month...except for one thing--not all of my clocks are consistent. Some times they adjust themselves. Sometimes they wait for me to adjust them. Sometimes they adjust themselves at different times of the day. And once, my atomic clock adjusted itself a week later! So, every time change I'm up at 2 am making note of which clock has gone through the change, and which has not. Periodically (throughout the next day and sometimes week), I recheck all the clocks, and finally, when I think they are through changing. I change the stubborn ones...only to have them change afterward!

So much for being able to sleep an extra hour--but the intent is a really good one.