Saturday, July 31, 2004

For all my embroidery needs

I followed a mini van for a short distance yesterday on the way to the store. In the rear window there was a cling-on sign that posted a phone number and then advertised "For all your embroidery needs."

I started wondering if I had any embroidery needs. It is certainly not something that has kept me up at night. But, if I really tried hard, I imagined (being the seasoned shopper that I am) I could come up with some.

We could send out Samantha's t-shirts to have embroidered with, "Hey! I am not a napkin," in an attempt to get her to stop wiping her mouth with it.

Or the living room curtains, to remind us, "jeez guys, how about cleaning the windows once in a while?"

Either Charlie or Chuck's dirty socks - "We don't belong on the floor - put us down the laundry shoot before doing ANYTHING. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200."

Friday, July 30, 2004

no spring chicken

Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to me.
What sucks about 35 is
it's only five years to forteeeeee

Thursday, July 29, 2004

Here lies bird

I went golfing with Nell Anne and Andrea Robison last night. Since we were a threesome, the starter (a.k.a grumpy golf cop) told us we would take this rather accomplished looking golfer guy, who was golfing alone, with us on the course. We did everything we could to verbally convince him he wouldn’t enjoy golfing with us, but it turned out our words weren’t necessary. He watched me whiff my first three attempts at a tee shot, and then Nell Anne perform similarly and decided he would find another group. We actually improved significantly – (like I made a decent effort at most of the rest of my tee shots after that) once that pressure and spectators were gone, but it was fairly horrifying to scare him away with our skills alone so quickly. Definite ego blow.
It was a beautiful evening, in the 80s, we had a few chilled beers in the back of the cart, and the girls were big fun to hang out with. The highlight had to be Nell Anne killing a bird on the 7th hole. She literally nailed him in his little feathered head with her Pinnacle Gold Lady (kudos to the girl for killing a bird with a golf ball that benefits breast cancer research) after which he fluttered and twitched for about three minutes and then died. Do you suppose I should tell her that's not what it means to "shoot a birdie"?
We decided to have dinner and drinks at the Stockpot to memorialize him. French Dip sandwiches in tribute to his ultimate sacrifice.
Back at the club house we made sure the golfer who couldn’t cope golfing with the ditzy chicks knew what he missed. After a few minutes chatting with us, he was asking when we’d be back.;-) Sorry dude. Missed your chance at girl night.

Sunday, July 11, 2004

she's cute, aint she? Posted by Hello

So I guess it really is my dog

This afternoon, a week and a day after the mutt we have been calling Magda followed me 3 miles on a run, a 20 something year old kid came and claimed her. I was out running some errands, and I got home, noticed the back door was left open with Charlie standing in it, and hollered at him to close it so the dog wouldn't get out. He started sobbing and said the owner had come to get her.
I was holding a beautiful ceramic treat jar with bones and doggies on it that Rose had given me at the pharmacy and was completely dumbfounded, since I had figured we would never hear from the owner.

This kid that came that claimed the dog lived with a relative of our neighbors, whose child had let him know that we had the dog. This neighbor had kept quiet, since the owner wasn't caring for the dog - after he had taken the dog from our house she came over and told us that he had tied her to a tree with a very short chain, left her for three days with no food, etc, etc. There was even rumors of a sibling dog that had been taken to the woods and shot. All of this was told to us in front of my kids who had just lost their new dog.

The kid who came was calling her "Axle". He had found the dog himself about a month ago, but hadn't put much effort into finding the owners (we had placed a radio ad, flyers in several local businesses, and visited all the local vets - but had no hit).

I felt sick and sad. I told Chuck that I couldn't believe I was so sad about a dog I didn't want. Beth and Chris were over for dinner and he suggested offering this kid $100 to give us the dog back, either that or some crack (if I could spare mine, he said).

I went over to the neighbors who then told us that the kid who had taken the dog had already given her away to someone else. I told our neighbor to tell him that he could earn $100 to get us the dog back.

About an hour later, he returned, with the dog, the food we had given him and some he had for her as well.

I cannot believe that I just paid $100 for a stray mutt I never wanted in the first place, but I don't think I can any longer tell y'all, "That's not my dog." Because I'm very glad to have her home.

Friday, July 02, 2004

Big Day at the Dryer

I got to hear Samantha’s end of a phone conversation with her brother this morning. They have been apart all week, while Charlie is in Portland at camp. Although he called three times yesterday evening they never connected (I need to remind them not to call at dinner and bed time).

Anyway – the conversation went something like this (parenthesis are my guesses at Charlie’s end of the conversation)

Charlie: (Hi Sam!)
Sam: “Uh, hi Charlie.”
Charlie: (I miss you)
Sam: “Me too. I miss you better.”
Charlie: (How was your game last night?)
Sam: “Good. The Bagel Lady is the Green Coach.”

We have been patronizing Bagels by the Bay for two years, and faced the team that the owner sponsors and coaches three times this year. Samantha just realized that she knew her, and wanted to share this with her brother.

Charlie: (I know)

Sam: “Guess what I got to do? Get my baseball shirt out of the dryer by myself!! And then I closed it back up.”

Hey, I got published! This picture of one of Charlie's teammates was in last week's (6.30.04) Tillamook Headlight Herald. Missing my days as a sports photographer. Posted by Hello

Thursday, July 01, 2004

Samantha finishes running the bases... seems like most of my Tillamook evenings this summer have been on a ball field. The 14 four year olds on her team are finally getting a little better at base running and hitting of the tee. Fielding? That's another story. Posted by Hello

We need a catcher! Charlie's first year at Lower Minors, playing his favorite position... Posted by Hello

Also amusing...

Samantha also came up to me this morning and said, "Look, mama. I'm blond."

I was looking at my pretty little red head trying to figure out what she meant. "See?" she explained, "My eyes are closed."


Early this morning a siren went by the house, as we live fairly close to Tillamook General Hospital.

It is around 6:30 a.m., and lying in bed Chuck hears the siren go by, and immediately afterwards, from Samantha's bedroom, comes a loud, angry