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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, April 28, 2015

X Is For Xenophile (A to Z Blogging Challenge, 2015)

Today the letter is X.  I only know a few X words: X-ray (medical); xylophone (musical instrument); Xanadu (mythical musical);  xenophobia (fear of foreigners); and xenophile (lover of things from another country), so I guess I’ll write about  xenophiles.

I have a xenophile friend. She is besotted by all things British—let me count the ways:

·         She writes her book series set in the Cotswold.

·         She owns a Corgi—the Queens dog breed of choice (she owns 5).

·         Her Corgi’s name is Darcy.

·         She had a Sheltie named Chelsea.

·         Her second novel is very

·         She designed her home with distinctive British architecture and decorating touches.

·         She loves to read and teach Shakespeare.

·         She swoons when she hears a really sexy male British accent. (Who am I kidding, so do I!)

·         She has a group of friends that speaketh ye olde English. 

And the list goes on.

Her Brit-session began, or at least intensified, after a High School 3-week graduation trip to England with her Grand Mother.   She fell in love with the country and her people. Years later she has written several books set in the Cotswolds’ with forays into London proper and a sea-side village near Bath.
I might tease her about this obsession, but in truth, I envy it.

I love to travel—stateside, I’ve been to almost every state except Alaska and a few of the Mid-Western ones. Abroad, I lived in The Azores, visited England, France, Israel (twice), Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji.  I still have  a few places I want to visit on my Bucket List (Alaska, Switzerland are my top two).  But I can’t pick my favorite place—in fact, when pressed to do so, I flippantly say, “the next place I visit!” And that’s pretty much true.

I love to plan trips, find out interesting things to do, foods to try, learn about whatever is unique to that part of the world, etc. But after I know what’s available, when I actually get there, I have no loyalty to my plans. I like to dart off on rabbit chases. If I miss a festival it’s okay—especially if I met an interesting local. If I see something not on your typical tour guides agenda—all the better!
Maybe I’m a xenophile after all—perhaps I’m a different breed of xenophile—rather than being a specific xenophile (like my friend),  maybe I’m a general xenophile.  Hummm, I like of like that:  General Xenophile.  Kind of like a Title or a Military Rank.

Maybe I can design a medal or a logo…it could be a winged X.

This blog post is my contribution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which bloggers from around the world, representing every skill level and interest, blog every Monday through Saturday during the month of April, using successive letters of the alphabet as the daily inspiration.
We are in the HomeStretch and tomorrow is "Y." Once again, I have no clue what I'll write about...

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