All I Want For Christmas…

…are things that don’t exist, but should.

I have everything I need, which thankfully coinsides with everything I want. Anna Blake did an awesome blog post on Thanksgiving for Christmas here.

  • Donkey Lending Library.

(Self explanatory to anyone who has ever met a donkey.)

  • Opinionated, talking, inanimate objects.

I feel this would be the fastest and most consistent way of having humor on an hourly basis. I would crack up if my fridge firmly clamped it’s doors shut the second I plunked groceries on the counter, and said “You’re not gonna put THAT in me, are you?! Nu-Unh. NO WAY.”

Life would become highly entertaining. Of course, this would have to come with a “mute” option, so we don’t get carted off to the hospital.

  • Magical carrot bags: impossible to empty, always fresh. (We have to have Hudson’s wish in here too.)
  • Horses should poop gold nuggets. Win-win.
  • Weather. Clicker.
  • Google App for the brain: Download a Skill.
  • If Congress refuses to work out an issue reasonably, everyone, on both sides, should have to wear a huge pointy party hat, polka-dotted, with streamers and uncomfortable chin elastic until it’s settled.  On TV.
  • Option to Reverse Retire: retire when young, energetic and fit, work when older, stiff, and wise enough to keep mouth shut.
  • FaceTime and Skype connectivity to Heaven. (Hi Grandma!!  Miss you!  How’s Mr. Chips?”)
  • Fairy Dust. Who doesn’t want fairy dust? Sprinkle on barn politics, broken cars, sad critters, one’s own brain: the list could go on and on.
  • The Argument Remote: pause, think, rewind, do-over, database access, and of course: mute.
  • Zen Vision Goggles with Zap capability: instant perspective for self, ability to zap others in need.

What’s on  your “should exist, but doesn’t”, wish list?

Stalemate: Dogs do Not Understand “Flu”

I tried throwing his toys.  I gave him lots of affection.  He’s inexhaustible.  I couldn’t walk him very far yesterday. He’s the only dog I know that can untie a double knot on a tennis shoe.

Once he gets something in his mind:

His feeling was: get the feet to move, the rest will follow. I will get my walk.

I love that he’s figured my feet come with their own leashes: he just has to unroll them.

In Which We Terrorize the Populace with an Invisible Dog

Christmas disappears at night.  It’s as if the leash simply vanishes into nothingness.  I literally can’t see him at the end of the leash.  Maybe I should contact the city about better street lights.

This wasn’t a problem until recently, when a kid popped out of the bushes unexpectedly. Startled, Christmas growled, and air snapped a million times around the kid’s legs, very fast. The boy was about 15, and couldn’t SEE the dog.  He was blindly jumping, knowing something was after him, (or possibly I was shooting a gun at his feet).

He looked scared, and said accusingly, “What the !@#$ is it?  Why are you pointing it at me?!?  Stop!”

“Sit!”, I yell, sternly.

Continue reading “In Which We Terrorize the Populace with an Invisible Dog”

And to All an Excellent Night!

Usually, if you have kids, there’s the one present that makes you cry. It hits that hidden zing place deep in our hearts.  Our kids have figured this out, and vie for the Heavyweight Cry Present Championship.   It’s hilarious.  Once we stop crying.

This year, in a shocking upset, Shaun managed an underdog coup:

It actually said on the glass makers tag: Palomino Shetland pony.  Sniffle.  Sniff.

I may never take the tree down.

I was able to get on and off Hudson without incident, and stay securely onboard for the time between the two.  I may need to get some PT for the leg.  That’s okay.  It went fine!

It’s likely to be quiet on TLH for another week.  Shaun is picking Great Grandpa up at the airport, and I will be doing a lot of cooking.  (Not followed by any telltale bings).

Chocolate cream pie, check.  Not as hard as I thought.

Ham, check.

Cookies, oh drat!

Where’s my coat?  Do we have chocolate chips??


(I hope your holidays were lovely, full of everything you could wish!)

Dashing Through the…Mud

It is raining here. I’m getting out my cubit measure.  Because the mud is really deep. Santa will get splattered.  Quite possibly he will lose a boot to the muck. Forget the cookies.  Santa is going to need flip-flops: lots and lots of replaceable flip-flops.

Christmas (the dog) is doing a reasonably good job of leaving the presents wrapped. They’re only slightly damp and disheveled looking.  Lots of missing bows.  Note to self: next year?  Do not tie tags to the bows.   Because of this oversight, I foresee handing pink floral underwear to Micah to open on Christmas morning.

I cavalierly guessed which present goes to whom, and I wrote (hopefully) the correct names in ink on their wrapping.  I’m not sure, but I think Shaun is getting dog biscuits this year. I hope the dog is happy with the new crock pot.

Shaun was staring at the dog and the tree yesterday.  “What?”, I said, looking at the dog. His head was level to the lowest ornaments: “He’s not ripping anything open, right?”

“No”, Shaun says, slowly, “it looks like he’s licking something.”  We both cross our arms.  Lean closer to look.

The dog is very studiously washing the face of a snowman ornament.  Shaun and I look at each other.  Okaaaay.

Christmas is Tidy Dog.  He likes things to stay where they belong.  Trees live in the yard. Not the living room. I think if he were taller than 9 inches, the “stick” would have been dragged outside where it belongs.  His bow and tag relocation strategy is creating problematic interactions between bipeds.

“Honey?  Why is there a giant bow in the bathtub?”

“Uh”, I say, “you’re getting a bath for Christmas?”

Micah stomps out of his bedroom.  “I don’t think it’s funny!”, he says indignantly, waving a scrap of paper in the air.

“What?”, I say, mildly.

“That tag on my laundry basket! (Mimics shrill voice, presumably my nagging one.) Dear Micah, Merry Christmas!  Have fun with it, love Mom.” He shakes his head.  “Geeze, just tell me you want me to do the laundry, okay?”

We should have an interesting Christmas morning.

In a brilliant effort not to take part in The Candy Replacement Program, I am leaving the candy at Daisy’s until the last second.  I wonder if she knows her doorbell is going to ring at exactly 11:59 on Christmas Eve?

I haven’t heard whether or not possession of The Candy has forced her into The Replacement Program.

I can’t put a friend in this position again.  Friends do not leave chocolate at friends houses, with the directive Do Not Eat.  That’s frenemy territory.

Next year I’m renting a safe deposit box, at the bank, for the $6 worth of M&M’s. Better storage area than my thighs. (I suppose I can use it during the rest of the year for my birth certificate, or some other dumb thing.  Like our will.)

I have to save me from myself somehow.

I had one of those days.

I ate an entire package of raw broccoli before I realized it was a Ghiradelli chocolate assortment.  (It was awfully good broccoli.) Fresh and minty, with chocolate undertones.

I think I’ve gone into sugar hallucinations.

I have one question smoldering in the holiday debris of my brain.  I really need to know. I’ve asked this question periodically since I was five years old.  It’s the stuff of horror movies.

What, exactly, is a sugar-plum?  Why do they dance in our heads?

And most importantly, can we fumigate?


Holiday Horse Parade, With a Bonus Video

Please meet our next holiday horse (honorary), from Laura. This is Dunbar, looking much more elegant and poised than Santa.

In unrelated news, Deck the Halls, brought to you by animals everywhere, and one creative human:

(Watch the whooooole thing: you will be pleasantly surprised it’s not your ordinary cute pet video)

Aw, c’mon.  I had to tag the post as gay and lesbian.  It’s Deck the Halls.  The carol that has the bit about donning gay apparel?

What is gay apparel?  I’d know how to dress!  No more guess-work.

If only Bloomingdale’s had a section: Women, Men, Gay Apparel, Juniors, Children, Housewares, Shoes, Better Dresses, Cosmetics, Furniture.  So appealing.

Holiday Horse Kick Off, and We Contemplate Body Clipping

TLH Annual Holiday Horses Parade!

With thanks to Cyndi from Living a Dream:

I’ll post ’em as they come in!

I bought a sparkly snowflake headband for Hudson (whoohahaha), as soon as it stops raining, he’s going to don it merry and bright.

Body Clipping

Alice and I are going to take body clipping lessons from Bella on Sunday.  Dinero and Hudson are going to get a trace clipped.  Alice and I are going to share clipping duty on Hudson.  It should be a blast, uneven, and very tiring.  All in all, totally fun.

I tried to explain clipping a horse to Shaun.  “Imagine clipping a car”, I said, trying to get across the enormity of a clip job.  “Now imagine clipping a car that’s chatty, hungry, bored, antsy, has an itchy fender, and is certain you have food. That’s ‘body clipping’ in a nutshell.”

Bella offered to clip a design on him, if I drew one.

I’m still in revenge mode (for the kick).

Continue reading “Holiday Horse Kick Off, and We Contemplate Body Clipping”

Jane Turns 26.5 Twice!

Back story:

There came a day when I actually saw the owners of one of the quiet houses down the street.  It’s a clean and tidy house, maintained nicely.  We exchanged uncomfortable pleasantries, with a few non sequiturs thrown in.

That night, I took the kids aside.  I said, “You know the green house on X street?”  They both nod.  “I want you to stay away from there, okay?”

“Why?”, asked Lee Lee.

“You mean the drug house?”, said Micah.

Continue reading “Jane Turns 26.5 Twice!”