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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.)

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Blind Date

Some days everything goes right.  Last Friday was not one of those days....

I awoke a tad bit late which meant I didn't get to leave as early as I planned.  That's okay--I  figured I could make up a little of the 14 hour drive by combinning pit stops and taking a couple country road short-cuts rummored to shave off drive-time.  If all went well I could still make it to the mixer for my 40th High School Reunion, albeit a little late.  If not, I would at least be in Crestview the night before the Reunion Dinner. Either way, it was all good.  I looked forward to seeing everyone--and with over 75 in attendance, this year promised to be a banner year size-wize.  Reaquainting myself with class-mates I hadn't seen since graduatuion day would be a blast from the past.

Driving country roads can either be relaxing or fraught with adventure. On this particular day the later ruled. However, my adventure allowed me to meet a really nice man--which is always a treat.  

Mark is gainfully employed--and a stand-up kind of guy if my first impression of him holds true.  While no sparks flew between us, he did think of someone he wanted me to meet:  an outgoing professional who loves meeting people, is a great listener, and  has high moral standards.  To say I was intrigued is an understatment.  Mark invited me to meet his friend,  with one stipulation--we must meet before July 28th. The requirement threw up a red flag; however, my curiosity won out, and for maybe the second or third  time in my life, I readily agreed to a blind date.   Mark gave me his friends contact information with a reminder that I needed to contact him before the 28th.

As I continued on my trip, I wondered at  the time limit.  Since my little adventure and time spent talking with Mark cut a pretty big chunk out of my time cushion, the rummored counrty road shortcuts weren't working out to shorten my drive time,  and I was in the area anyway, I decided to take a chance on missing the mixer and  pay a visit to Mark's friend.  Why wait until the end of the month.  There's no time like the present--especially when it comes to meeting a nice guy.

Unfortunately, Mark failed to mention his friend does not keep office hours on Fridays.

Disappointed, I continued on my trip.  But that odd meeting requirement started to niggle the back of my mind. My over active imagination supplied a number of reasons for the request, each successively more alarming than the last.

Perhaps it was some sort of a country backroad bewitching hour in which his friend would turn into a pumpkin, or an axe murderer--or worse, he would be getting married on the 29th.

Nice guy? Ax murderer? Prince Charming? Mama's Boy? Frog? Toad? I thought I would have to wait until to find out.

It turned out I didn't have to wait, and none of the far-fetched senarios supplied by my suspicious mind were remotely close to the reason for the deadline.

Rummor has it county judges will issue a warrant if you fail to make a court date--even if it is only for allegedly driving 80 mph in a 65 mph zone.

Although the last speed limit sign I saw was for 75 mph, my SUVs GPS said it was a 70 mph zone, and I've had such lacklustre success with driving rummors, I don't plan on putting this particular rummor to the test.  I'll make sure my blind date with the judge occurs before the 28th.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Freedom Is Not Free

"Freedom isn't Free"
Is a phrase we blithely say
But do we really realize
The cost they had to pay?

Some gave up family fortunes
Funding the war to be free
Others left their Quaker faith
To fight for you and me.

Many gave up their own freedom
As they in turn were jailed
The hardships that all suffered are
Inadequately entailed.

The loss of life and limb
The frozen feet and toes
Starving for some soup or bread
Are small parts of war-time woes

Yes, freedom wasn't free my friend
Huge sacrifices were made
So we could live free from tyrany and
Enjoy our Independence Day Parade

As we celebrate our Nation's freedom
Let us also ponder the great cost
For although freedom has been won
So very much has been also lost

And the sacrifices haven't stopped
Brave patriots continue to be
As our Armed Forces serve us in harm's way
Because Freedom really isn't Free

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Free Dog Food Coupon

Imagine the delight I felt at my good fortune--it is rare I have a coupon for something I really need. Today, my need for dog food and a coupon for a free bag coinsided. 

This is too good to be true, I thought. I read the fine print as best as my aging eyes allowed. I couldn't find the catch. It wasn't BOGO or even buy one, get one half off.  It was totally free. And not an off brand I wouldn't even feed a stray.  It appeared to include the high quality food I feed Bandit.

It's not that I'm a pet food snob, I'm not.  I got Bandit during the  first China Poision Dog Food Epidemic--I don't feed either Bandit or Moggy anything made, processed,  or handled from or in China. Nor do they receive food that has been on a Recall List. To make feeding time even more challenging,  Moggys cat food can not come from Thailand since they use dogs as cat food sources. That means unless they have begun selling something new since the last time I checked, that removes everything sold at WalMart and HEB (my Texas based grocery store).  So I shop specialty stores, dog boutiques, and pet stores--using every coupon, reward program,  and sale I come across to off-set the cost.

If there was a loophole in this free dog food coupon, it was cleverly disguised, because I was not finding it. The only exclusion or stipulation  I saw was small bags only and no freeze-dried food--it's really expensive. Not a problem.  Bandit doesn't eat the freeze-dried food on a regular basis, and I prefer the small bags so it doesn't go stale.  The coupon even had my rewards number pre-printed on it, so I wouldn't even have to take my rewards  card inside.

Off to the PetStore I went, smart phone in hand since I don't have a printer.  And my credit card. Just in case. On sale or not, Bandit would need dog food very soon.

Presenting the bag of dog food,  and my smart phone screen lit up with the coupon , to the cashier, I said, "It seems too good to be true, but I think this  coupon applies to Bandits food--could you check for me please?"

The cashier looked at the dog food, then carefully read the coupon and told me it appeared to be a valid coupon, and he agreed it seemed too good to be true; however, he informed me with eyes twinkling, "But you really need to check with the other cashier."

I only saw him.

"Who might the other cashier be?" I asked peering around the store.

"The one at the other store." He smiled.

"What other store? The one in Harker Heights?" Bandit and I frequent that store so it is familiar to me. I could not believe I had totally missed the fact the coupon was only valid at a specific location.

"No.  It's here in Temple--but it would be the other store--the one that actuallly issued the coupon."

I carefully reread the coupon for the umpteenth time.  And then I ssw it.   "Oh...You mean the boldly printed competitors name written at the top of the coupon that I missed while I focused on trying to read the fine print?"

"Yep.  That would be the one.:

I sheepishly handed him my credit card and my keyfob with the miniature version of my rewards card. Since I would be paying without a coupon, a little assistance in the price would be appreciated.

Saturday, July 1, 2017


Moggy sits on the dining room table staring inperiously down his nose in my general direction.

"Stop doing that!"
It takes the hauty statue a full five-seconds to close his eyes.  I begin my reverse 10-count, for the umptenth time tonight...

On the backside of the nine, his eyes close...

...and remain closed as the numbers fac, they remain closed so long I consider placing a mirror beneath his nose to check for breathing.

Without disturbing his head or ramrod spine, he slowly shifts his eyes until they lock directly on mine. Only then does his front left paw extend as he tap-taps lightening-fast--

 I watch, mouth agape, as the newly sorted receipts flutter off the table, and haphazardly fall into a jumble joining an open book, three bookmarks (none gainfully employed), a sales catalogue, sadoku book with mechanical pencil clipped inside and holding my place  as if it were a bookmark, and a bag of recently refilled prescription bottles.

His eyes are icy as he continues to glare--taunting me to continue the countdown.

I calmly walk to the table and place a salad plate with melty cheese nacho's with-in sniffing distance, but just outside his paws reach. After he sniffs deeply, I tear off a tiny morsel of gooey cheese and slowly pass it under his nose--

--directly into the open mouth of the FurKid who has not purposefully made a mess for me tonight.

Bandit dances his Happy Dance, then assumes his pretty sit,  signaling he is ready  to receive another treat.

I laugh as I retrieve the items from the floor and place them on the table for resorting tomorrow. 

Two can play this passive-agressive game, Moggy.  Two. Can. Play.