Read My Lips

See these ruby red lips.  If you are a guy and are reading my blog, consider yourself kissed. I am writing tonight to say I kiss more than the dogs. Nothing hotter than the kiss of a lonely widow ready to play. This adult content is for a dear family member who said, "no wonder she can't date, all she talks about are the dogs." So, dear loved one, tonight I'll talk trash. Hot kisses, wet kisses, all the kisses one could want. Providing you don't mind the fact they've kissed a dog first.  Gotcha! Silly me, still talking dogs instead of sex!
I know there is a man out there saying to himself, "I really want to meet the kind of woman who is cool, wears vintage leather jackets, jeans and gobs of turquoise jewlery. I love it she wears ankle boots in the winter and mary janes in the summer. I like that she thinks green and recycles clothing buying at Goodwill. The more dogs she has the hotter she'll be. So much love to share. We'll eat drink and be happy, and I won't mind if she has a few extra pounds as long as those pounds are just for me. I like it she isn't trying to impress me, but wants me to impress her. So what if she doesn't cook, rarely vaccums and never dusts. I can take pills for my allergies. I don't mind sleeping alone while she is up all night writing, as long as she starts the evening in the bedroom. She can do whatever she wants as long as she wants me there with her. Thats the hot widow chick I am looking for."
If you are a male reading this and saying, those are my thougths exactly, pick up the phone and call me! You can find me under 1 -800- hot widow.
So sis, can I RIP?  Love ya.

Widow lesson learned: Sometimes you have to talk about something other than the dogs or you could be a dog of a date!

My Eyes So Full Of Rain And Dogs With A Side Of Men

http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/

Hiding in my jammies tonight. Enough excitement for one poor widow gal today. My workman back this morning to try and finish up before the rain. Oops. Too late. Rain came early. Getting lots of small things done and it is nice to get my morning call, "be there in thirty." This has been going on since September when the rain leaked into my basement. Then found one rotting thing after another so I have had a man here for months. Lucky for me when your workman is on parole you can get lots done since he can't leave town. He was here long enough today to work on my flood lights which refuse to turn on. "Please be careful," I was worried. He was up on the tall metal ladder and the rain drops were falling. Did I turn off the power? He kept asking me to throw the switch and I got so google eye watching him tall in the air I forgot which switch he was asking for on or off. "Don't want you to flip off that ladder and land atop my corvette," I yelled up to him full of concern. He left a few minutes later to return on Monday.
Then I headed out for my day of adventure. Helping my rescue lady State Trooper Peggy with her pack of pups at PetSmart. "Can you bring pizza for lunch?" she asked me as I was backing out my drive. Cell phone in one hand and turning on my windshield wipers with my other I heard a loud thump. "Bye, see you soon." Closed my cell and looked out the rear. I had run smack dab into the corner post of my fence. Figuring I could just pull forward I switched gears and hit the gas. My tires were a spinning the ground so mushy from all the rain. I tried several times, digging in deeper. Finally I got out, walked around to check on the damage and grabbed a flat piece of fence wood to put by my wheel for traction. I can never remember, front or back of tire. So no help there. My eyes were starting to tear up I was so befuddled on what to do. My neighbor across the street came running. "Can I help?" Thank heavens. "I've been watching you from the kitchen window, couldn't figure out what you're doing." Wrecking my yard is what I'm doing, but I kept silent. He got my car back on the driveway having to push it while I hit the gas. Praying in my state of mind I wouldn't hit reverse and then I'd have a flat neighbor as well as a woppy jaw fence. He went back home pleased he had helped a damsel in distress, I found that a sweeter term than the idiot behind the wheel. Which may have been truer. For as I backed down the driveway once again I hit the fence on the other side of the drive. Not so hard as to knock it over though.  I wonder if my neighbor saw that? How red is my face. But I smile knowing my workman will have something else to do. A never ending list of honey dos and no real honey. But see how simple it is to keep a man around the house?
Did I tell you I am on the twelve step program for dogs? So I am safe helping the rescue gal Peggy. I like to watch the folks trying to decide if they want a dog. Some sit there for an hour holding a dog then leave, saying "maybe later." Not me, I see a dog, it wags its tail and I sign the papers.  Not one caught my fickle dog eye today, thank goodness. And Peggy has me on restriction which is cool. I have six dogs, she has sixty.
I am the laziest widow in town. Was to see a male friend of mine tonight, but the rain made me want to stay home alone. I called him, "date cancelled due to weather." I knew it would be fine with him or it would have been quite rude of me. But I had rain in my eyes and didn't want to see anyone. So the evening was perfect, romantic chic flicks, jammies, dogs on my lap, quilts all around and a lovely glass of sherry to warm me. I snuggled in for a quiet evening at home, a decision I was pleased I made.
Widow Lesson Learned: It is so much better to have your eyes full of rain and make your own decisions then to have them full of tears and know not what to do.

Find a great dog with Atlanta Canine Adoption Project! I found two.
http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/GA244.html

Frogs, Widows And Puppy Dog Tails

The Atlanta Botanical Garden
http://www.atlantabotanicalgarden.org/home.do
Help the amphibians.
Frogs are in trouble! More than one-third of the world's amphibian species are considered threatened or endangered.Rescue programs strive to give some amphibian species a lien on life. However, for many amphibians, time is of the essence! Check how you can help:
http://www.atlantabotanicalgarden.org/site/conservation/amphibian_research#help%20the%20amphibians
There are future prince charmings to be rescued. You never know what happens when you kiss a frog.

http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/animals/frogs/

Wizards at work. The stars aligning. Good things about to happen to a lonely widow sad sack at home with nothing to do. October 2008, a bad date turned into a wonderful part time job. We went to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens after a Mexican lunch and I met my match. Not the guy I found online, but the beautiful garden haven he showed me. Flowers, art and a frog pod. I dumped my date as swiftly as I could. Ran home and Googled the gardens.Planning on volunteering, a huge flower opened and the word employment popped out, beckoning me. I was transfixed. Part time sales associate, gift shop. I knew the job would be mine. I kissed my monitor, thank you Lordy, and The Atlanta Botanical Garden became my prince charming.

Now I am on the move again. My last day working at the Botanical Garden Gift Shop will be Jan. 31st. Writing until all hours of the night, with six dogs watching my back, a vintage corvette that is waiting to hit the road, and my book to bedazzle bookshops is my path this year. I’ll try to pace myself so I won’t run over my real Prince Charming if he is standing on the side of the road thumbing for a ride. There may just be room in the seat next to me for a soul daring enough to hang on.
On the dog front, I missed my vet appointment for Annabelle. So engrossed in watching the workmen in my yard, lifting plywood and a hammering, a sight that my eyes find exciting. Men and tools. I forgot we were due at the vet at 10:30. I called to confirm my afternoon appointment at lunch and oh the surprise I'd defaulted. I’ve been in to see them so much this week, my brain is fogged on who and when. So tomorrow early as the sun rises, Annabelle will go to see if she has any of the worms that are frequenting these premises.
Tonight I am sighing with relief, my floodlights are working, the siding is back on the shed and an albino rat’s body was carried to the trash at the street by someone other than me.
Widow Lesson Learned: Prince Charmings come in many forms. You just need to recognize them when they come along.

Feelin' Like An Old Dog

http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/animals/dogs/

Dem bones have been a hurtin the last few days. Weather so cold your feet freezin in the heaviest of footies. And at this very time in the weather cycle I am out of Ibuprfen. My drug of choice. Keeps my joints happy and me grovin. But for three days I have not been smart enough to go to the drug store and I was board stiff today. Joints creeking as I got off the couch. Befuddling to be feeling like an old dog on the outside, and like a sex kitten on the inside. A sex kitten who is trapped at the pound. No one to take this kitty home. So the old dog ate lunch with friends and then went to CVS.  Biggest bottle of pills I could find came home with me. Thirty minutes later I was grovin to my music. Dancing to Marvin Gaye's Got To Give It Up. Ten minutes of soul train dancing and I am a new gal. The dogs looked at each other in amazement. I could see in their doggie brains they were saying, "What the heck?" No dog buscuit made them feel this grandeous.
Feels good to be back on track. Cut the carbs and exercise. My next move. And to the Wellness center to do the stretchy things that make you pop! But that is next weeks plan.
Tonights plan is to snuggle in bed with the dogs and dream of a man who is a loveable pup. "Big Dog" is what I am looking for. Not one with fleas, but one who can please.

Widow Lesson Learned: Keep on your Iburorifen to feel like a sex kitten rather than an old dog. And if you find your mate at the local pound be sure he has had his shots and does not have any doodly bugs. The only big worm he should be sporting is not in the intestines. Keep plenty of treats on hand to reward tricks well done.

Bats In My Belfry

My head is full of bats. Flying bats with craziness that makes me laugh. I should be crying. But when you have bats in your belfry you don't connect with reality.
That is me today. Not in this reality.
Six dogs. How did I not realize that if one got critters, all might? So we (my vet and I) are still working on finding out who has what. And it is a puzzle most certainly.
Let me put my findings in order.
Foxy has Giardia, a parasite in her intestines. She is on meds for that. The other five are being checked to see if they have this too.
Yesterday, April, the newest addition to the mad house, went in for her check up. Good news. No worms or parasites. And high five from vet man that she is one good looking dog. I beamed with pride. I'd found a winner. Nothing wrong with her! Later I told the gal from the rescue shelter my good news on April. "Oh, by the way," she informed me, "don't let her near cats. Grabbed three one day." I refused to ask what that meant, but I do know not to get a cat. And I know she may not be the dog I walk in the neighborhood. She is a hunting dog. Don't they hunt something other than cats? What a pussy.
Today, Rascal went to see the man. More high fives on cuteness. Rascal had a shy moment and let herself be handled and prodded. She took it well. Then, in a flash the man walked in and Rascal bared her teeth and started snarling. "Is she afraid of men?" my vet asked. "I think she is afraid of your Bugs Bunny tie," I tried to make light of a situation I suddenly worried about. What if she didn't like men? Another dating strike.
But they shooed me out the door, to see how Rascal did without me and she became her old self. I think she trying to be bigger in her paws than she is. Such behavior is not tolerated here. Her shelter lady said she loved all she met on her weekends at PetSmart. We had a discussion on her bad manners on the drive home where she tried to sneak kisses rather than listen.Rascal has whipworms. So we have pills for that. But could the others have whipworms now? That is a good question. Luckily we have only checked 3 for giardia, now the other 3 can be checked for both and I can backtrack the last ones. Whew.
Annabelle goes in on Thursday for her intro to the man. I have all her papers, but we'll see if she has any doodly bugs.
I came home my head a spinning on dogs and their critters. "Keep the yard clean," the last words I heard as I ran my debit card. I am walking with Lysol cans strapped to my ankles.
Just as I started to relax I remembered my new nightie I bought at the thrift store today. Liz Claiborne jammie pants and a large oversized sweater to knock about in this cold weather at night. I am tired of running out after the dogs with my butt chillin under my short night shirt.
I opened the door to head down the stairs to wash them and noticed the runner had a small hole and loops of yarn twirling around it. How did the dogs get there? I wondered. And then I saw it, small and tangled in the hole, a rat turd. "Shit," I screamed. Then laughed. How true. I went down the stairs and there by the washer and dryer more of the same. Ratatoullie? I wonder if my new housemate can cook?
So, on my list of things to do. Rat trap.
Today was a day of bats in my belfry and rats in my basement.
I am happy to report six butts are sleeping in the living room, sweetly dreaming. I smile as I look at them. I am their rock star, Leader of The Pack. I rush to get my jammies to join them.

Widow Lesson Learned: Every dog has his day, and my dogs are each having a day this week.

Bat clip art from  http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/halloween/bats.shtml

Dog Day Afternoon

Still cold, dogs are a shiverin'. Foxy is belovely in her pink sweater, new from PetSmart on Saturday. She is still not feeling well, so her sweater keeps her warm and cozy. Bray stays close. Two peas in a pod.
Chloe in her faux fur is bewitching, but her little face tells me she needs an attitude lesson. She can't go out in the cold.
Rascal has had enough of being out. Giving me the old red eye beggin to come in.

I know six dogs is my limit now. I have to keep counting noses to see if they are all here. "Let's see, one, two, three, four, five...........OMG where is six?"
I am one dog shy of commitment.


Oh yes, Annabelle, asleep on the couch. She opted out for the Kodak moment.

 April only here since Saturday is yawning with boredom. Little does she know that in 30 minutes her self will be making a journey to meet the man, vet Max.

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Sharing a lazy day of dog photos with you. No man under the quilt with me today but plenty of warmth abounds with the coziest of dog moments.

Bray is sometimes faint hearted being the only male in a household of "bitches" (meant in the kindliest of dog terms).

Widow Lesson Learned: Cold noses make for a warm heart.

Music And New Dog

Every day is an adventure! Found a way to put my favorite songs on my blog! Will be adding to my playlist as I go. Great free site to listen to music. Three of my favorite songs. I love September by Earth, Wind and Fire.Check it out. http://www.playlist.com/.

And now meet April. My last and final dog or I am in the dog house for sure. A rescue from Animal Canine Adoption Project. Same place I got Rascal from New Year's Eve. Had the evil eye for both, but in the name of sanity only got one. But April had buried her image in my brain and I couldn't forget her smiling face. Could you? She is so sweet. And timid. The other bigger dogs were making her a fraidy cat and she wanted so to be in a smaller place where she could blossom. Well, she has blossomed alright. Here not half a day and already sleeping on the chaise. She was so docile when she came in the other dogs almost missed her. Rascal created a hoopla, but April got a butt sniff, the highest sign of approval from the others. Six dogs. If I take out the I and add an E in its place the word will be sex. Sex that I will probably never have again since every man will fear the crazy woman with six dogs. But the man who says, hey, cool, will win my heart. And maybe there is a crazy dog man out there. Meanwhile I am all smiley with my group. We watched TV, Bray on the big leather chair, April on the floor next to him, Annabelle under a quilt on the couch, Rascal with her head on my chest, Foxy at the other end of the couch and Chloe curled up on my lap. Is that six? I am loosing count. But it is very warm and cozy when you have that many dogs laying on you and it is 17 degrees outside. A big heap of warmth.Here is the link to the rescue shelter, and Peggy is the best. A state trooper who knows how to let the dogs out. Out to my house it seems. http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/GA244.html. Could you resist this sweet face?

Widow Lesson Learned: I am one dog away from being a fruit loop.