I Have Started a New and Desperately Needed Charity: Clothes for Cats

To start off this important endeavor, I donated one of my favorite suits that was just hanging around waiting to be dry cleaned to Mooch:

And then a basket full of clean laundry to Chester:

They looked like they needed it.

It's Like If These Walls Could Take Pictures, But It Was a Person and That Person Was Outside

Remember when I told you that the former owners of our house had a son and he was kind enough to drop off a CD of what the house looked like before the people before us bought it? Well this is the second, and last, part of that series. These are the outside pictures:

Here is our house now:

And this was it then:

Look at that HUGE tree! It takes up most of the house and entirely covers up the dining room window. In fact, if you look closely at the dining room window in this picture, you can see the tree in it.

I told B that I am not sure I would have been able to see past that tree if we were looking at the house back then. Luckily for us, the people before us could and one of the first things they did after moving in was tear out the tree. Thus leaving the dining room window visible:

And, later, after B tore out that bush, we discovered something even more beautiful that should have never been covered up. Look at the side brick work:

It totally matches the brick work around the door. So gorgeous. Much better than a sunblocking, neighbor watching blocking, and HUGE ass tree.

They also did a little more with the back porch than we do:

This is what it looks like now without all of the plants*:

They had plants everywhere:

We just have cats:

So there you have it. Crazy how things change and how different everyone's vision of how their house should look like really is. I love that we were able to see the different ways our house has been used and decorated.

*Okay it really looks better than that. We have grass and it is green. I chose to use an old picture probably right after we moved in and the snow melted. Don't want you to think B doesn't take care of the yard. He does.

Crime Watch Wednesday: It's Like Teaching a Cop a New Trick

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday illustrates the age old question - who is smarter, the cops or the thief?

You be the judge.

Police responded to a house alarm the other day. Upon arriving at the residence, they noticed the back door wide open. After assessing the situation they decided the house was secure, although they apparently used that term loosely. No one was in the home and nothing was taken. The police proceeded to lock the door and head back to their vehicle when they suddenly noticed the family dog reopening the door they had just locked!

Spot was taken into custody with his tail between his legs.

Can I say I just love the fact that the thief here is the family dog and that the dog is able to open a LOCKED door? Not just closed, but locked. You know what I don't love? That the police somehow thought a house with a wide open door was "secure." How is that even remotely secure? Heck, it wasn't even secure after it was locked as evidenced by the DOG opening the door.

I wonder if we could teach Jersey to open the door. That would be a bad thing, though.

Right?

Is it Aggressive Chewing or Insanely Maniacal Destruction?

Jersey is what you would call an "aggressive chewer." That means there are not a lot of toys that I can buy her. Almost every single cute or fun looking toy says "not for aggressive chewers." I know they are right because I can see the little parts that she would bite off in a heartbeat.

This makes my job a bit harder. Being so aggressive and chewy, Jersey needs to be occupied often or else she will take to chewing the rug, the carpeting or poor Brad. We buy 1-2 rawhides a week and I think we may be up to 3 now.

So, the other day, when I was in the store and found a line of heavy, duty, durable toy line made for those dogs that love to chew, I felt that I stumbled into heaven. Well, doggie heaven. I thought about which one to buy first and settled on the three ring one. The rubber rings were even chicken flavored.

Jersey, in her typical fashion, gingerly took the toy from me, ran away with it and started to go to town on it. She LOVED it.

Notice that this new toy is so awesome, even the rawhide in the background went untouched.

A mere 12 hours later I was awakened by Jersey swinging her head ferociously on the bed with something in her mouth. It was the rope ring. She managed to tear it apart. By the time I awoke, the rope was a collection of strings. B called that the "weak link."

I think Jersey is a superhero dog.

Please Don't Betty White Me. Well, You Can, and I Will Be Flattered, But I Will Decline

I know I am late to this bandwagon, but what else is new? However, it was just this last week that something I heard on a radio show made me stop to think a little bit more about this Betty White situation.

As you all know, there was a facebook campaign to get Saturday Night Live to invite Betty White to host the show. This was a big deal because Betty White is in her 80s, a fantastic actress, but has never hosted the show. The campaign was successful and Betty was a hit.

Now, though, people are getting carried away. There is a facebook campaign to have her host the Emmys and the Oscars. I am sure next it will be the Grammys and Dick Clark's New Year's Eve. But, has anyone stopped to ask Betty White if she wants all of this? Maybe she doesn't want to host the Emmys or the Oscars or the Grammys or any number of things people are surely sitting around concocting facebook campaigns for. How do we know?

Yes, I am sure she is honored. She is also in her 80s. She has been an actress for decades. Maybe she wants to relax, garden, surf the net. Maybe she doesn't want to spend hours and hours practicing for hosting gigs. We will never know, though, will we? No one has stopped to ask her.

Well, let me make it clear to you all. I don't want a facebook campaign to do something cool that somehow turns into a landslide of campaigns of more things to do which are less and less cool and more and more work. That is not fun to me. Fun to me is watching a good movie that you have to rewind four times because you keep falling asleep under a comfy blanket because it is raining out and it is Sunday and Monday is a holiday. THAT is fun.

You know what I want? Certainly love and adoration, but quieter and more subdued. And no facebook campaigns.

Unless the facebook campaign involves something that would allow me to watch more movies under comfy blankets and no work on Mondays.

In that case, campaign away!*

*If anyone could accomplish this, it would be my blog readers, you are the best!**

**That is not a bribe, you really are the best and I love you.***

***But if you can make that happen, I would love you even more.

You Say Foreclosure, B Says Potential

We recently heard that the house across the street from us went into foreclosure. One of the neighbors thought it looked back inside, but that was not confirmed. However, once the house officially went on the market, B got us the code to go inside so we could see for ourselves.

It was as disastrous as I thought it would be in parts and better in parts. But, see for yourself.

Immediately upon entering the side of the house, you turn left into a hall to go into the kitchen. This is that hall that leads to the kitchen and the eat in area that you see in the way back:

This is the kitchen. No appliances. I am sure he took them with him. Plastic wrap on the windows which leads me to believe they are original and just as drafty as ours. And a lovely shade of pale yellow:

And what is this you ask? No clue. It looks like the owner was trying to knock down the entry way between the kitchen and the eat in but then just kind of gave up?

This is the weird old faucet in the kitchen sink that also had built-in soap dispenser (that I doubt has worked in quite some time):

If you can't tell what the following picture is, well that would be the light switch, hanging in the MIDDLE of the room. Safety be damned!

Below is the living room. The fireplace is in good shape. The carpet, however, is not. The entry to the left goes to the dining room that has the same carpet. The entry way to the right goes to a small TV room in which B is standing. It also holds the best thing I found in the house.

This is the best thing in the house. How gorgeous is this built-in cabinet?

This beauty is the back porch that the owner may have been attempting to make into an all season room. Unfortunately, in its current state it is a no season room. There is a glass door leading from the dining room, as well as one leading from the TV room.

This is the upstairs main bath. Again with the yellow. However, I did fall in love with the arch and curve of the shower. And it had a shower/tub combo which is more than I can say for our bath.

Although the bath has two seats in it so you probably wouldn't fit in it to take an actual bath. We can use B as a sizing gauge:

And, finally, the bath downstairs. Can you say water damage?

I didn't take any pictures of the bedrooms because they were pretty standard and nothing exciting. I also forgot to take a picture of the outside, but I will update with one later.

This house is selling for a bargain, but between the water damage, the need for a new roof, probably new windows, and the very large and VERY dead tree in front, one would probably need twice the selling price to even be able to live in it. B thinks that it is in decent shape. I, however, am unable to see beyond all of the many (and hugely visible) flaws.

I hope someone serious buys it and fixes it. I would love to see that.

Lazy Days Equal Watching Actual Children Reenact The Hills (Not Just the Usual "Children" That Star on the Show)

Today was a lazy day, so you get a lazy post. If you have ever watched The Hills, you know how utterly terrible the acting can be. Below, watch some kids reenact some scenes. You will be amazed at what better actors they are.

My favorite parts? How the girl playing Audrina is always looking up and how Heidi goes from being plastic to just being an actual Barbie doll at the end.

Tales From the Courthouse: Presentation is Everything, Until You Forget What You Are Presenting

As I sit here preparing for my court appearance tomorrow, I reminded of the nonsense I witnessed last week.

As usual, we were all crowded on small benches in the dreary hallway, waiting for the almost indiscernible sound of the courtroom door unlocking. Heard only by dogs -- and lawyers, naturally. Although the legal world is large, the world of lawyers that actually go to court are quite small. You see the same people time and time again. Naturally, camaraderie and inside jokes develop.

So when a woman gets wheeled down the hall on a gurney, strapped down, accompanied by two EMS personnel, an attorney says "That's not good" with a cynical chuckle. Another ponders if it is one of our colleague's clients.

However, when the gurney stops at the bathroom, and the woman, immediately after becoming unstrapped jumps off the gurney light as air and runs inside easy as can be, we all stare in disbelief. In fact, I say to the guy across from me "Did she just....", as he answers "Yes. Yes, she did." To think, I thought I have seen it all.

She is then heard yelling in the bathroom "I know law more than you do!" I am going to have to respectfully disagree lady. Presentation is everything and even though the gurney and the neck collar were a good start, the free moving limbs and sprite movements completely destroy the picture you are trying to create.

As she was wheeled away, we heard her mumble "This medication is making me crazy. I need to talk to an attorney about this"

That's not all you need to talk about.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring...

It is Not Medically Professional to Lose a Boob, or to Break One for that Matter

So the hospital lost my Mom's boobs. Well, technically not her ACTUAL boobs. I am pretty sure those are still attached to her chest. They did, however, lose her mammogram. For three months. THREE MONTHS!

You know what else they did? They sent someone else's films to her doctor. Her cousin's films to be exact. Yes they have the same name - spelled differently. You know what they don't have? The same birth date or social security number. Details, I guess.

So when they finally found her boobs, they proceeded to tell her there was a problem. She needed to get checked out again. Good thing there was that three month gap in time when her boobs were lost, right? I mean, if there was something really wrong, wouldn't you want three months worth of TREATMENT and not someone else's films? Mom told me that the hospital was pointing the fingers at the film place and they were pointing their fingers back at the hospital. "Don't worry," I said, "I will point fingers at both of them in my lawsuit." After all, what is the point of having a lawyer in the family, if you can't sue someone?

Then they put my Mom through that tortuous test. You know, the one that makes your boobs turn into pancakes? Again. Except they only had to do one, so she had one pancake and one apple. How's that for a visual? It kept her laughing even days later when she was still in pain and declaring "THEY BROKE MY BOOB."

All's well that ends well. Her boobs are fine. They are still on her chest. And last I heard, they are both apples now.

But I've still got my eye, and my fingers, on that hospital.