Rest In Peace, Ginger.
My beloved puppy was found dead this evening in my back yard. I am completely heartbroken. I think it was from heat stroke. I loved her, and she was wonderful.
I will see you in heaven, my sweet girl.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
My New Dog
Ok, so Sadie never came back. Very very sad. I still look for her every time I hear a big dog bark.
But, the upside is that I now have a new dog! Her name is Ginger. She is a red Australian Shepherd (actually she is more of a honeyed brown color, but officially that is called "red"). She is the cutest, fluffiest thing. I think I will only have Australian Shepherds as dogs from now on. She is such a good, sweet dog. I love her!
This morning I had a very novel experience. David bought me a bike recently. I love it, too. We had a deal that if I kept the food budget below 600 dollars in January, then at the beginning of February he would be a bike that I have been asking for for over a year now. So, I actually kept the food budget down to about 450 dollars in January, and now I have my bike. I haven't taken pictures of it yet, but when I do, I will post them.
So, this morning, I was about to take a little ride on my beautiful new bike, and Ginger was in the backyard having a fit. Apparently she is under the impression that every time the garage door opens she is supposed to get to come out and see us. She loves to do that, and a lot of times, if she is insistent enough, we let her. So, she was barking a
nd barking, and I felt guilty, so I decided to see if she and the bike would mesh well. They did. She had the best time! It's the first time that she has gotten to run on an outing around the neighborhood. She didn't really have any fear of the bicycle, so it worked quite well. Now, when I take her out, I can spend some time coasting. That is very nice.
Ok, so in the other areas of my life there have been some changes as well. I now have an Associate's degree in Early Childhood Development. Hooray! Unfortunately, that does not mean that I am done at the Junior colleges. I have started at UNT this semester, but I still have 6 classes to take at the junior colleges, boo. At least the classes I am taking this semester are interesting. I am really liking my Linguistics class. I was told by several people beforehand that it was a super-hard class to take, but I have found the material very interesting so far.
Ok, so enjoy the pics of my sweet dog! Later!
But, the upside is that I now have a new dog! Her name is Ginger. She is a red Australian Shepherd (actually she is more of a honeyed brown color, but officially that is called "red"). She is the cutest, fluffiest thing. I think I will only have Australian Shepherds as dogs from now on. She is such a good, sweet dog. I love her!
This morning I had a very novel experience. David bought me a bike recently. I love it, too. We had a deal that if I kept the food budget below 600 dollars in January, then at the beginning of February he would be a bike that I have been asking for for over a year now. So, I actually kept the food budget down to about 450 dollars in January, and now I have my bike. I haven't taken pictures of it yet, but when I do, I will post them.
So, this morning, I was about to take a little ride on my beautiful new bike, and Ginger was in the backyard having a fit. Apparently she is under the impression that every time the garage door opens she is supposed to get to come out and see us. She loves to do that, and a lot of times, if she is insistent enough, we let her. So, she was barking a
nd barking, and I felt guilty, so I decided to see if she and the bike would mesh well. They did. She had the best time! It's the first time that she has gotten to run on an outing around the neighborhood. She didn't really have any fear of the bicycle, so it worked quite well. Now, when I take her out, I can spend some time coasting. That is very nice.Ok, so in the other areas of my life there have been some changes as well. I now have an Associate's degree in Early Childhood Development. Hooray! Unfortunately, that does not mean that I am done at the Junior colleges. I have started at UNT this semester, but I still have 6 classes to take at the junior colleges, boo. At least the classes I am taking this semester are interesting. I am really liking my Linguistics class. I was told by several people beforehand that it was a super-hard class to take, but I have found the material very interesting so far.
Ok, so enjoy the pics of my sweet dog! Later!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Big Dog Lost
Sadie is missing. She got out of her yard sometime during the day on Thursday, while David and I were at work. I have been feeling sort of zombie-like the past two days, driving up and down all the streets in the surrounding area, checking the perimeter of the house every time I step outside, and pestering the animal shelter to see if they found any German Shepherds recently. I am hurting; I feel like I lost a child. I just want her to come home.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Rambling Down Memory Lane
Ok, it's been awhile since I posted last. I guess I came across a little writer's block while scrambling in between work, school, social commitments, and keeping my husband happy and content.
I'm feeling a little melancholy right now. Sometimes I wish I could go back to a simpler time in my life, back when I thought a budget was a kind of bird, and thought that my clothes just magically reappeared in my drawer all clean and folded automatically.
Today I spent the majority of the day catching up on housework that I have been letting pile up for a week or two. After a long day of dishes, vacuuming, and laundry, I was cutting up a watermelon to enjoy with David, and wallowing in memories from my childhood:
Missing Mom's "home-cooked" summer meals consisting of a can of condensed soup and a gigantic slice of watermelon.
Walking by the kitchen and seeing my skinny sister with a hollow leg getting all the last scrapings out of the rind.
Wandering through my dad's home-grown watermelon patch, with leaves bigger than my face, and looking for the tee-tiny watermelons, anticipating the deliciousness in the near future.
Sitting on the old picnic table in the back yard with my sister when I was about five, and each of us having a slice of one of Dad's watermelons that was so big I had to rest it on my knees in between bites.
Having a contest with my sister that night to see who could spit watermelon seeds at the dozen cats we owned and actually hit them. They were too good at dodging for us most of the time.
Eating the last couple bites of the Hamburger Helper when my brother wasn't looking, and then when he heatedly asked where it went (since his raging adolescent football-player appetite hadn't been satisfied yet with three heaping helpings) blaming it on my skinny sister, and watching her get called Miss Piggy shamefacedly.
Watching movies with my family on school nights, even though I knew I should be getting my homework done, and feeling happy that we were all doing something together without anyone getting angry at someone else for at least a couple of hours.
Getting called a bum-bum head by the little boy who lived behind us because I didn't want to play his stupid game.
Having to listen to him and his mother argue about whether or not my head actually looked like a bum-bum. She was determined to convince him that he was wrong so he would apologize, and he was determined not to apologize.
Dancing around the yard, holding a cat above my head, and chanting Ooga-chaka like a little heathen. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't think we were devil worshippers. I blame it on the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie we watched- it was a bad influence.
Always wanting to put my Barbies in a different outfit than the current one, being able to get the clothes off, and only being able to get the new clothes partly on. My dolls ended up being in a perpetual state of nakedness or mooning one another.
Wishing there was a way to get engraved underwear off the Barbie so I could change that, too. I probably wouldn't have been able to get the new underwear on her anyway.
Getting a kick out of making a loud noise and scaring my dad to death after he had been on the toilet long enough to relax during his extended bathroom trips. And yet he didn't get mad at me when I did that- I think he was just so glad that the house wasn't really falling to pieces.
Back rubs from Mom that would sometimes last as long as a movie. Hers were the best, because she always chewed her nails down to nubs, so her back scratches were more like light massages. But if you actually wanted a massage, she would swear she didn't have the faintest clue as to how to give one.
There are so many more things I could write down, but for tonight I'm out of steam. This will have to do until later.
I'm feeling a little melancholy right now. Sometimes I wish I could go back to a simpler time in my life, back when I thought a budget was a kind of bird, and thought that my clothes just magically reappeared in my drawer all clean and folded automatically.
Today I spent the majority of the day catching up on housework that I have been letting pile up for a week or two. After a long day of dishes, vacuuming, and laundry, I was cutting up a watermelon to enjoy with David, and wallowing in memories from my childhood:
Missing Mom's "home-cooked" summer meals consisting of a can of condensed soup and a gigantic slice of watermelon.
Walking by the kitchen and seeing my skinny sister with a hollow leg getting all the last scrapings out of the rind.
Wandering through my dad's home-grown watermelon patch, with leaves bigger than my face, and looking for the tee-tiny watermelons, anticipating the deliciousness in the near future.
Sitting on the old picnic table in the back yard with my sister when I was about five, and each of us having a slice of one of Dad's watermelons that was so big I had to rest it on my knees in between bites.
Having a contest with my sister that night to see who could spit watermelon seeds at the dozen cats we owned and actually hit them. They were too good at dodging for us most of the time.
Eating the last couple bites of the Hamburger Helper when my brother wasn't looking, and then when he heatedly asked where it went (since his raging adolescent football-player appetite hadn't been satisfied yet with three heaping helpings) blaming it on my skinny sister, and watching her get called Miss Piggy shamefacedly.
Watching movies with my family on school nights, even though I knew I should be getting my homework done, and feeling happy that we were all doing something together without anyone getting angry at someone else for at least a couple of hours.
Getting called a bum-bum head by the little boy who lived behind us because I didn't want to play his stupid game.
Having to listen to him and his mother argue about whether or not my head actually looked like a bum-bum. She was determined to convince him that he was wrong so he would apologize, and he was determined not to apologize.
Dancing around the yard, holding a cat above my head, and chanting Ooga-chaka like a little heathen. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't think we were devil worshippers. I blame it on the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie we watched- it was a bad influence.
Always wanting to put my Barbies in a different outfit than the current one, being able to get the clothes off, and only being able to get the new clothes partly on. My dolls ended up being in a perpetual state of nakedness or mooning one another.
Wishing there was a way to get engraved underwear off the Barbie so I could change that, too. I probably wouldn't have been able to get the new underwear on her anyway.
Getting a kick out of making a loud noise and scaring my dad to death after he had been on the toilet long enough to relax during his extended bathroom trips. And yet he didn't get mad at me when I did that- I think he was just so glad that the house wasn't really falling to pieces.
Back rubs from Mom that would sometimes last as long as a movie. Hers were the best, because she always chewed her nails down to nubs, so her back scratches were more like light massages. But if you actually wanted a massage, she would swear she didn't have the faintest clue as to how to give one.
There are so many more things I could write down, but for tonight I'm out of steam. This will have to do until later.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
English Final
The Final's Almost Here! Here is my paper for the final:
Everyone is an author, but many do not know it yet. Everyone has written something at some point: a journal, a letter, a narration of an event that happened to them recently. Writing is merely setting one’s point of view down on paper; the difference between a best-selling author and any old Joe on the street is training and practice in writing out one’s thoughts and ideas. In his article “Writing won’t kill you: Making your point is half the battle. Here’s how.”, Mr. Bill Marvel made several compelling and significant points about the writing process. He concluded that writing is a necessary skill for life, and that while writing one must articulate his ideas clearly and precisely.
Writing is an essential ability for all walks of life. As Mr. Marvel states, “Sooner or later everyone has to write something – a thank you note, a report on a PTA meeting, a complaint, an apology, a eulogy” (1). Everyone needs to know how to put cohesive thoughts together, and then transfer them all to paper. Writing skills separate the educated from the uneducated-- the cultured from the uncultured. People write essays to get scholarships, letters to get job interviews, love letters to get dates, journals to preserve memories, and signs to locate a missing pet. Writing is the bridge that connects us all, regardless of age, race, culture, religion, or location.
Writing also forges a common ground through the use of a mutual goal in all literature: all writers must learn to put their thoughts in words in a way that is clearly understood. For example, in Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler, Hitler created labyrinths of words in his sentences; as a result, Hitler’s writing is hard to follow and understand. Thus, one of the most important aspects of writing is clarity and brevity of thought. As Ms. Diana Booher, a communications consultant, stated: “Clear writing is just clear thinking” (Marvel 2). So, when a person is learning to write, he is also learning to think more clearly.
There are many methods to writing comprehensibly—one method is to write an outline beforehand. Regina Montoya, CEO of the New America Alliance, says, “My writing’s better when I do an outline. [It] forces you to put down which points are the more important ones. The more thorough the outline, the clearer and more to the point your writing will be” (Marvel 2). Regardless of the method one uses, it is important to make sure that one’s writing is simply put so that any reader who picks it up can follow the line of thought.
Regardless of what a person is saying, people will not read it if they cannot understand it. They also will not read it if it lacks personality and enthusiasm. I deeply disagreed with Dr. Castilla’s point of view when she said, “I try to make my students understand their goal is to communicate, not to express themselves” (Marvel 3). Writing loses its essence and becomes boring and dull when the writer stops allowing his own personality to show and stops speaking in his own unique voice. Everyone must write at some point; whether writing a thank-you note or an autobiography, it is important to write clearly and with personality.
Everyone is an author, but many do not know it yet. Everyone has written something at some point: a journal, a letter, a narration of an event that happened to them recently. Writing is merely setting one’s point of view down on paper; the difference between a best-selling author and any old Joe on the street is training and practice in writing out one’s thoughts and ideas. In his article “Writing won’t kill you: Making your point is half the battle. Here’s how.”, Mr. Bill Marvel made several compelling and significant points about the writing process. He concluded that writing is a necessary skill for life, and that while writing one must articulate his ideas clearly and precisely.
Writing is an essential ability for all walks of life. As Mr. Marvel states, “Sooner or later everyone has to write something – a thank you note, a report on a PTA meeting, a complaint, an apology, a eulogy” (1). Everyone needs to know how to put cohesive thoughts together, and then transfer them all to paper. Writing skills separate the educated from the uneducated-- the cultured from the uncultured. People write essays to get scholarships, letters to get job interviews, love letters to get dates, journals to preserve memories, and signs to locate a missing pet. Writing is the bridge that connects us all, regardless of age, race, culture, religion, or location.
Writing also forges a common ground through the use of a mutual goal in all literature: all writers must learn to put their thoughts in words in a way that is clearly understood. For example, in Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler, Hitler created labyrinths of words in his sentences; as a result, Hitler’s writing is hard to follow and understand. Thus, one of the most important aspects of writing is clarity and brevity of thought. As Ms. Diana Booher, a communications consultant, stated: “Clear writing is just clear thinking” (Marvel 2). So, when a person is learning to write, he is also learning to think more clearly.
There are many methods to writing comprehensibly—one method is to write an outline beforehand. Regina Montoya, CEO of the New America Alliance, says, “My writing’s better when I do an outline. [It] forces you to put down which points are the more important ones. The more thorough the outline, the clearer and more to the point your writing will be” (Marvel 2). Regardless of the method one uses, it is important to make sure that one’s writing is simply put so that any reader who picks it up can follow the line of thought.
Regardless of what a person is saying, people will not read it if they cannot understand it. They also will not read it if it lacks personality and enthusiasm. I deeply disagreed with Dr. Castilla’s point of view when she said, “I try to make my students understand their goal is to communicate, not to express themselves” (Marvel 3). Writing loses its essence and becomes boring and dull when the writer stops allowing his own personality to show and stops speaking in his own unique voice. Everyone must write at some point; whether writing a thank-you note or an autobiography, it is important to write clearly and with personality.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Brain Damage
Ok, I no longer doubt that something is wrong with my poor little strange black and white kitty. Today she proved further weird-ness than I've ever seen from her before. I was sitting on the toilet, and she walked right up to the toilet paper holder, and took a giant bite out of the roll of toilet paper. Then, this evening, I was sitting in the living room with my kitties watching tv. Then, I heard a little crunch crunch crunch coming from Trinket's side of the room. I looked over to see what was going on, and saw Trinket with a death grip on a wooden pencil, chewing the end with the lead. I ran over and got it away from her. Maybe she just needs more fiber in her diet. Otherwise maybe I should inspect the ingredient list on her cat food for lead.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Monica's Story
Okay, one of the little girls that I work with wrote a short story today (it was Book Club day, so we read books for about an hour, and then the kids wrote their own stories). The prompt was: Once upon a time, there was a little girl named ________. One day she decided to go for a walk. While she was out walking, she saw something amazing!
This is how "Monica" ended the story:
What she saw was a kittin. The kittin came up and looked at the girl, and liked her. The girl took the kittin home and adopted it. The girl gave the kittin a bath, cut its toenails, and painted them pink. Then the girl gave the kittin some food. The kittin was hungry. The girl named the kittin Cutie. The kittin was black and white and it was a girl kittin. They lived happily ever after. The girl was married and her husband's name was David. The end.
I think there might just be a little subconscious symbolism there- what do you think?
This is how "Monica" ended the story:
What she saw was a kittin. The kittin came up and looked at the girl, and liked her. The girl took the kittin home and adopted it. The girl gave the kittin a bath, cut its toenails, and painted them pink. Then the girl gave the kittin some food. The kittin was hungry. The girl named the kittin Cutie. The kittin was black and white and it was a girl kittin. They lived happily ever after. The girl was married and her husband's name was David. The end.
I think there might just be a little subconscious symbolism there- what do you think?
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Racism
Okay, this is the reason I love education- it gives me great subject matter for later rants. plus cause for deeper thought and introspection. Today in my composition class, we discussed racism, and read a sermon by Martin Luther King Jr. called "The American Dream". It was about how he wanted Americans to forget about race and become a brotherhood of Americans, and how the value of a person is based on the fact that they were created by God, and not on how much money they have, or how much pigment is in their skin. I agree. What I don't agree with is the kid in the last row who said that his boss is racist because he asked him not to come to work with dredlocks, and in gang clothing. What I don't agree with is the Mexican kid who says that there is a white conspiracy to keep the other races down. What I don't agree with is the kid who says that I'm a racist because I kicked them out of the center (at my work) for cussing and fighting. It's not my problem that they are black and I am white. I didn't choose to be born the color I am, and my parent's financial situation is also not my fault nor to my credit (depending on whether their situation is good or bad).
There is a Mexican kid in my class who says that white people make all the rules in society because they are white and it is written in their DNA it conquer and control other races. What a dum-dum. White people don't make the rules of society. Rich people do. You know why? Because they control the resources of the country- they have something that everyone else wants. Isn't that the way it usually works? The kid with the best toys decides under what conditions the other kids get to play with them. I'm not saying it's right- that's just how it is. It's a little thing called truth. Poor people will never set the agenda of the country because they have no leverage.
Now, if I had my way, I would make it so that everyone was treated with dignity regardless of life circumstances. I would make the rule that anyone who was hungry would get food, everyone who was cold would get some clothing, and everyone who was homeless could have a place to live. All of that is pretty easy to accomplish- it already exists. There are homeless shelters, church pantries, and thrift stores. What is hard to accomplish is the next part- Love and Respect. I would make it so that white people could speak the truth and no one would call them a racist. So that men could be manly without being called chauvinists. So that women could be women without being accused of being anti-feminist. So that black people could speak the truth without being accused of being too white, or any other variety of insult. Sometimes I wonder why people can't just be who they are without everyone else having an opinion.
There is a Mexican kid in my class who says that white people make all the rules in society because they are white and it is written in their DNA it conquer and control other races. What a dum-dum. White people don't make the rules of society. Rich people do. You know why? Because they control the resources of the country- they have something that everyone else wants. Isn't that the way it usually works? The kid with the best toys decides under what conditions the other kids get to play with them. I'm not saying it's right- that's just how it is. It's a little thing called truth. Poor people will never set the agenda of the country because they have no leverage.
Now, if I had my way, I would make it so that everyone was treated with dignity regardless of life circumstances. I would make the rule that anyone who was hungry would get food, everyone who was cold would get some clothing, and everyone who was homeless could have a place to live. All of that is pretty easy to accomplish- it already exists. There are homeless shelters, church pantries, and thrift stores. What is hard to accomplish is the next part- Love and Respect. I would make it so that white people could speak the truth and no one would call them a racist. So that men could be manly without being called chauvinists. So that women could be women without being accused of being anti-feminist. So that black people could speak the truth without being accused of being too white, or any other variety of insult. Sometimes I wonder why people can't just be who they are without everyone else having an opinion.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Too Funny
Ok, this was too funny to pass up. Tonight, David and I were sitting in the computer room, and while we were sitting there, Gizmo decided that David was in her spot. So, she decided to fix the problem by jumping up into the chair and trying to push him off. She ended up just getting wedged in between David's back and the back of the chair. Here's a picture:
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