Dogs

Dogs are funny.  Every day I laugh at some antic one of our three dogs has pulled. If you don't own a dog you don't' know what you are missing!
 
Our eldest dog Savvy (a lab) enjoys digging in the trash, has super smelly farts, and has a shortened tail because the tip was chewed off by a duck that lived in the pond of a rented house in college. Being ever the gracious one she would share her dog food with the duck. When things got a little hoggish, the duck would nip her tail until Savvy would scoot over. The next tenants at that house had a pointer and that duck was dinner within a week.

The middle dog Lola (a mini eskimo) was a pet store purchase. At the time we were unable to conceive a human child, so I figured a puppy was the next best thing.  She is truly a sweet little lady, but I have decided she is diabetic because she drinks until she pukes and still urinates at any time and location she feels the need (vet says not diabetic...whatever). She is quite fat,  though most of her exercise comes from digging incessantly in our flower beds

 
Our third dog is Kevin Bacon. Kevin recently came into our lives because Savvy is 16 and will soon be chasing rabbits in heaven, and Lola will need a friend to lean on when that fateful day arrives.  On a side note, Savvy seems determined to hang in there with the new guy around - thus we have three dogs for foreseeable future.  Kevin is our first boy dog.  Chad needed another man around the house.  Too bad we got the most sissified male Australian Shepherd that ever lived. He is literally scared of pillows. We adopted him at 16 months old from a family who told us he was very well trained.  And, he appeared to be so at first, but after living around our clown circus for about two weeks, I guess he figured, "screw it, I'm going to do what I want around these people because I can obviously get away with it." His name may seem odd, but it was actually a no brainer.  Our youngest daughter has a friend who used to call her Kevin, and she would answer like it was natural to be called Kevin. That led us to KEVIN, and well dogs love bacon sooo... KEVIN BACON! Really,who doesn't want to be one degree closer to him?!  

 
All of our dogs are great.  They follow me around religiously and are known at our house as my "pupparazzi." I haven't gone to the bathroom alone in 16 years.  I will miss the day I don't have all three of my furry babies with me.  Maybe I will get a ferret by then.  I hear they are hilarious and find money in hidden places. 

SPF BINGO

South Plains Fair Bingo

One of my family's biggest traditions since I can remember is to gather and
hit the annual South Plains Fair. By family, I mean my grandmother, aunts,
mother, cousins, and my twin brothers - no granddads, fathers, or uncles.  I
am sure this arrangement was fine with the men.  I still don't think my dad
has ever graced the cotton candy, lemonade and turkey leg-covered asphalt at
the South Plains fair grounds.

Most kids go to the fair to ride rides, see animals, and eat more junk food
than they are typically allowed.  And, while we all did plenty of that, we
were taught at a young age that most of our time and attention would be paid
to the Khiva Shriner Bingo Hall. I watched my elders play hours on end,
multiple cards at a time.  I was prolific in reading bingo color balls and
numbers by 4. Bingo cards cost a quarter each then. We would eagerly watch
as our parents earned chips with each win, knowing we would get to use them
to pick out prizes (only after each of the women had earned a canned ham
with their initial winnings).  I loooove those memories, and I'm fairly
certain that this is where my love of gambling was born...

By the time high school rolled around, I would go to the fair with friends.
They came to understand that our trip would include some games of bingo with
my mom and grandmother, and they knew that I would slap their face if they
said it was boring!  Many times I would walk by the hall to find my mom
chatting up one of the guys I liked and offering him a game of bingo on her.
By then, the Bingo winners won cold hard cash!  It was like Vegas for kids
but with more smoke and flies.  Inflation had driven the cost of bingo cards
to 5 for two dollars.  My grandmother usually played about 10 at a time.
Thanks to the new system and the friendly prices, I actually left the fair a
few times with my tummy full and money to burn due to my bingo fortunes.

Now that I have my own two kids to take to the fair, I have big shoes to
fill.  I would be lying if I said they didn't love to sit for an hour or two
and play.  They can't help it - it's genetically woven into the fiber of
their little beings. The problem is, now cards are 6 for five dollars.
Remember we are playing about 18 cards as a family per game...I don't have
that kind of money!!!  Luckily my grandmother does, and she still loves
nothing more than a good day of bingo at the fair. 

So, compliments of Mema, the tradition continues with her great
grandchildren.  Here's a photo of the clan on the opening Saturday.  The
bingo gods were smiling on Mema.  She's the only one who bingo'd the entire
day.

Hunting

I am not a fan. Luckily Chad only hunts seldomly and just birds. I have never really understood the joy in killing an animal for sport, especially something like a dove...I mean seriously, there are probably 15 sitting in my backyard right now, and none of them look delicious. In fact, I bet these are the same dove who just escaped a crappy shot and came back to the city life.

All this being said, years ago Chad said I couldn't understand hunting if I had never tried it. So, off we go quail hunting. I agreed to this under my conditions: 1) we had to shoot only quail, and 2) we had to eat them.  After about an hour of seeing absolutely nothing, Chad is irritated. Isn't this why it is called hunting? You have to "hunt" for them, right?  I guess to a terribly impatient person like Chad, an hour with no fresh blood is no fun.

Well, he finally rustled some quail and gets one! Yea! Half a meal for one of us! Now it is my turn, and I am determined and quite frankly scared of how bloodthirsty I was becoming myself. I hear a rustle in a tree across a dry riverbed and shoot. Nailed it! "Good job Babe," says Chad excitedly.  At this point I think I have a hidden talent and am anticipating some good grub tonight. We cross the riverbed and find my kill...a beautiful red, black, and white woodpecker - all dead from my spot on shooting.  I cried. He laughed. We left and didn't even take the other quail home. Never again.

Feed the Children

Feed the Children

Sometimes I wonder if I am doing it all wrong. Ask anyone who knows me. I don't cook. I don't know how to cook. I don't want to know how to cook. The closest I come to preparing a meal is pinning a recipe on Pinterest because it looks really yummy, not because I plan to make it.  I suppose I am secretly hoping one of my "culinarily inclined" friends will see that I pinned the dish and make it for my family out of pure generosity...or pity for my kids. (Megan, if you are reading this...)

I really admire the moms who put the hot meal out. I especially admire the moms who shop at places like Sprouts to avoid poisoning their beloveds with things like high fructose corn syrup and cow steroids.  Me, I go to Wal Mart. Not only is it cheaper, but it has the kind of pop tarts my kids like. I grew up eating out at a restaurant every night. Furrs was where we went to get our vegetables.  El Sombero was a staple in my childhood diet. I have definitely come by my lack of kitchen skills honestly. (thanks Mom)

In an effort to better my children's diets I do buy lots of fresh fruit. They drink the poisonous milk though, and I am making a vow right now that Lucky Charms will no longer be an option for dinner.  So until I can afford my very own in house cook (remember Mr. Belvedere?), my kids will survive on frozen chicken and canned veggies. They don't eat much anyway. 

Bandwagon

I am jumping on another bandwagon. Just like I did with Facebook, skinny jeans, TOMS, and botox. I am proud to be starting a blog! My blog won't have any specific order. Just like my life. Only thoughts and stories that run through my head while I am obsessively cleaning my house. I love writing and last year we bought this fancy new iMac so I may as well use it. My previous endeavors on the computer have been limited to trolling other peoples statuses and shopping. My husband is on board too! He was hesitant at first because he thought all the posts would be making fun of him. I assured him I would keep that down to half. I wrote a blog entry last night and he smirked! This is an ego booster since we have been together close to 20 years and my humor has seemed to wear on him. So here I go...