Just another day….

I have my Avery today.

We went to the Pumpkin festival this morning with Auntie Bambi and Kolton-Joe. The festival was a bit of a let down but the company was fun!

Babygirl and I stopped at the Farmers Market on the way home, bought 6 pounds of apples to make jammy/jelly nom nominess.

Also bought a bag of kettle corn, cuz tonight is At-home-movie-date-night with the Hubs. We’re having an Avenger’s marathon….

And nachos for dinner.

And root beer floats for dessert.

Today is a good day to be me!

Enjoy your weekend Peeps!


Asshats, canine style…

My dogs are asshats.

The End…..



Oh. You require clarification??


Because regular grooming is good for their overall health, and because since retiring I’m too cheap to take them to the groomer, and because they smelled like….well, BUTT,   I bathed the little brats myself today. TWICE.

Twice you ask??? Because I’m uber thorough?? Because I was bored???

No. Because after bathing them both I thought to myself “Self, (cuz that’s my name) it’s a pretty morning, you should let them air dry outside for a minute while you clean up all the areas of the house that got bathed along with the dogs”….So I did. And 10 minutes later when I started outside to commence the overwhelming, back breaking, itchy, unpleasant task of blow drying and brushing out the Golden I saw this awaiting me at the screen door:






























Here’s another shot in case the screen was obscuring the absolute awesomeness of her spa mud treatment…

The Golden apparently used his front paws to roll his sister around in the dirt as he was only mud encrusted on his front legs which I did not deem worthy of a picture in my totally pissed off state.

Ever bath a Golden Retriever??? They have A LOT of hair, and it’s water repellent. Takes somewhere around 57,268,201 (give or take)  gallons of water to saturate the hair on a Golden, 15 gallons of soap to clean all the gunk that collects in those long flowing tresses, another kajillion and two gallons to thoroughly rinse the soap out (cuz the little Bastard has sensitive skin and will be all itchy if not rinsed properly. It’s bullshit) and 62 bath towels to dry him before he shakes 892 gallons of water all over you and your bathroom. Lather, rinse, repeat…..















Does this face look at all chagrined?? I don’t think so….

A half hour (that I’ll never get back) later, he was once again clean. I tied his leash to the leg of my deck chair and commenced blow drying. He is not a fan of this process, hence the tying of the leash. Another half hour (that Ill never get back either) he was 75% dry and somewhere around 40 pounds of hair lighter, most of which found it’s way up my nose….

I then chased the Pug (she hates baths, hence the running away from me. She knew what she had done) around the yard until I had her trapped in a corner, grasped her firmly and proceeded to the kitchen sink.

Bitch gave me attitude…

I persevered.

I scrubbed. I rinsed. I scrubbed some more. I rinsed again. I towel dried her squirmy vehemently protesting little body vigorously…She had it coming. I took her outside, held her down on my lap and blow dried. Annnnnnnd blow dried.

I’m exhausted, they’re pissed at me and I’m not speaking to them.

It’s a beautiful friggin’ day in the effin’ neighborhood.


My camera has created a monster….

Constantly having my camera in her face since 2 seconds after her birth has turned my Granddaughter into a Ham Monster. And it cracks me the hell up!

Case in point:























First one: Unobserved. Second: Whatcha got there Gram?  Third: Oh I got it, it’s picture time. Lemme just TURN  IT ON!

Her big happy grin is infectious! But this time I just wanted pictures of her “reading” her books, they’re truly her favorite toys. Not as easy a task as you’d think….

Need more proof? Here:

















I hid the camera behind me for a minute and then snuck it back out and got ONE before she was ready. After that?? Cheese….Pure cheese!

Avery’s incredible awareness of my camera makes my job as her Official Photographer both easier and at the same time harder. On the one hand, it’s hard to get a bad pic of the kid (usually caused by user error on the part of the person handling the camera). On the other hand, getting candid photos where she’s not looking RIGHT INTO THE CAMERA is next to impossible! She has just a beautiful little profile, and I try so hard to capture it

Sometimes something unexpected and fun accidentally happens:
















Sillouette…almost got her profile.

Anyone have any tips for photographing kids? The only thing I’ve been able to figure out is to always have her Poppa in the room to distract her from what I’m doing, which works great as long as he’s home.

Hope y’all are enjoying your week!


Tutu much….

Avery’s first Birthday is 6 weeks (or so) away, can you effin’ believe it???

Being as I’m retired (unemployed) and have time on my hands (yay me) I have volunteered my crafting services to my Daughter (who has no time) for all Birthday related stuff….

And I work in one of two ways: A) do stuff wayyyyy earlier than necessary or B) wait until the last friggin’ minute and then feel stressed and overwhelmed. I prefer option A because even though I tuck the stuff I make in a safe (obscure and never to be remembered) place therefore resulting in a last minute scavenger hunt to find them when needed, it beats the crap out of the “shitballs and firecrackers!  I have 2 days to design and make all this stuff and I have a cold and don’t wanna do it but I gotta cuz I promised WHAHHH!) business that inevitably ensues when I take option B.

So I’ve made pretty much everything we wanted for Peanut’s circus themed birthday party (Get it?? Peanut? Elephant?? Circus??) A “Happy 1st Birthday Avery” red/white stripped circus pennant banner plus a smaller “Peanut” version for her high chair, pennant cupcake toppers with the letter A on them, red/white striped “Thank you for helping me celebrate my big day! Love Peanut” treat bag toppers (which will hold peanuts in the shell), a red/white striped photo booth back drop (complete with clown noses, mustaches and hats for props) AND THIS:

A TUTU! It will be part of her party outfit (not finished)…



































Oh Helloooo!

The preciousness of this party is clearly out of control, and doomed to worsen as I have no doubt I’ll think up other stuff that is NEEDED!


An Uncluttered Life…A.K.A. the Goodwill adores me….

There is something seriously wrong with me. If my Mother were alive, she’d take me straight away to the nearest E.R. or loony bin, whichever she deemed most appropriate….

A couple of weeks ago, with the help of Chef Vivi, I sorted through boxes stored for years (decades), cleaning out closets, under the stairs storage spots, nooks, crannies, drawers and assorted other hidey holes filled with a lifetime’s accumulation (two if you count the stuff from my Mom, three if you count the stuff from multiple Grandmas) of CRAP.


I come from a LONG and distinguished line of pack-rats. I’m not sure if it’s the Irish in us, or the Cherokee but our clan parts with nothing. NOTHING….we luvs us some stuff. Everything, and I mean everything once belonging to a Dearly Departed family member becomes an heirloom.

Grandpa’s last beer can. Heirloom? Nah….








I adore heirlooms. I can’t imagine not having little pieces of my families history infused into my everyday life (M.I.L.’s bedroom set, Granddad’s dresser, Great Grandmother’s colored glass collection, etc, etc) but lately it has occurred to me that maybe just maybe not everything qualifies as an heirloom.

So I’m sorting through, and boxing up, a butt-ton of former heirlooms who have been demoted to the clutter category….if my Girlies want any of it, more power to ’em but I’m soooooo over carting around boxes full of junk that never gets unpacked. I have literally moved the same unpacked, untouched boxes from one house to another 7 times.


Out it goes. Hubs loaded the back of my truck with boxes full of the unwanted flotsam and jetsam of my life and off to the Goodwill it went!

Good God, y’all! I feel lighter!

Come Christmas time, I’m sorting through all that crap also…

And now, to catalog and list for sale my unused and vast collection of needlework stuff…..


Seriously, I was starting to feel like an episode of Hoarders…..EXCEPT WITHOUT THE TRASH. Gross….A cleaner, neater and more organized version of Hoarders…..Ok, maybe Hoarders was the wrong comparison.

Not anymore asshole!









Point being, I had a lot of stuff. Now I have less. Go Me!

Funny thing is, no one would ever know to look around this place….Tchotchke Headquarters is still located in my house. But I know there’s less clutter….

Which makes me happy!