What We Call a Weekend Getaway, Jersey Calls Heaven a/k/a Confirmation that We Own a Water Dog

B finally got some time off on the weekend so we took advantage of it and went up north to his parents' cottage where we are RIGHT NOW. That is right. This is practically a live action post. Well, practically.

In any event, aside from the relaxation that B and I were both looking forward to, we were also very eager to see how Jersey would take to the lake. I haven't shared with you exactly how much Jersey loves the water. ANY water.

We first noticed when B washed the car. That dog loves the hose. And the sprinkler. And the kiddie pool B bought her. And the water dish. Get the picture? We were pretty confident she would love the lake, but you never can tell with these things.

She loves the lake.

B immediately took the retrieving dummy and hurled it into the lake. Here is a "live" action shot. It is not happening now, but whatever:

Jersey jumped right in like it was her job:

She is part lab. I guess it is her job. She would go as far out as you sent her. Sometimes even farther:

If thrown to the side, she would run the length of the shore and then dive in:

And retrieve it. Always bringing it back:

Such a good girl.

Even when her master got lazy, she did not:

Can you spot Jersey in this pic? I swear she is in there:

Not a happy dog when she has to come inside. She just sits and longingly looks at the outside:

Right now she is asleep at my feet. B put her through quite a workout today. I am hoping to figure out how to upload videos because they are pretty hilarious (and short).

Until then, back to vacation...

One Fish, Two Fish...

Yesterday's post about our Christmas tree reminded me of our fish tank. Well, it was actually the photo. You can see just a little part of it in the Christmas tree photo.  Let me tell you a little back story.  B has always had a fish tank.  It is his thing.  Prior to this recent one, he had a small tank the equivalent size of say a 20" TV.  I have no clue about gallons and such.  That tank lasted quite some time until it developed a big crack and dumped massive amounts of water on to our floor.

Despite the fact that I am almost always in the same room with the fish tank, I did not notice. I did, however, hear a bunch of cracking, kind of like someone walking on ice.  Upon hearing this, I would get up and investigate, but never quite figured it out.  A few days into this, B remarked how much water the fish tank was losing. Yep, that was because the water was on the ground, in our carpet to be exact.  The fish tank was cracked along the entire bottom.  I am so oblivious.

A new fish tank had to be obtained right away.  B could not live without one and the fish were dissatisfied living in my dishes in the sink.  Actually, I was a bit dissatisfied with that as well.  Off to Craigslist B went a searching.  The next day he tells me he has found a tank, is off to pick it up and will need my help when he returns.  Great.  Upon his return, I hold the front door open for him as he brings in a tank the equivalent size of a plasma TV.  I say "oooooh" and "ahhhh."  That's when he tells me he really needs my help.  I look puzzled and go downstairs to find the hugest base/cabinet thingy ever. And it is wood.  Like 1980s wood.  I say "Oh my GOD that is ugly."  B looks a bit surprised and maybe a little hurt, so I say no more.  Instead I assist him in lugging this thing up.  B remarks about my surprising strength, which he does anytime I move anything:

"I can't believe you carried that big computer monitor all the way up the stairs by yourself"

" I can't believe you carried that huge TV into your parents' house all by yourself"

"That cabinet was heavy, you are more woman than I thought."

But I digress.  B assembles the fish tank and it looks like this:

Kind of ugly 80s wood, right? But I have to admit that it looks okay in our house. Much better than the former fish tank. This one elongates the wall or your eye or whatever other secret interior design language I do not know. It really made the living room look better, in my opinion. Score one for B.

However, this just made me notice more that the inside was, shall we say, colorless. B goes to great pains to "decorate" for the fish, but it all looks like green, brown, and nothing. Take a look:

I bring this up to B and he says it is not a salt water tank, apparently it is a fresh water tank. Thus, it won't look bright blue with colorful fish and many colors like the bottom of the ocean. To which I respond, "so it looks like the bottom of a lake?" Tell me that doesn't look like the bottom of the lake. I guess it doesn't matter because the fish don't mind. 

You know who else is a big fan? Chester. It is like we upgraded his entertainment center from a 20" TV to a plasma and he cannot get enough. He spends most of his days "watching" the fish tank and trying to catch one fish he has his eye on. A colorful red one. B thinks it is because the fish moves fast. I think it is the only spot of color in the lake that Chester can see.  So he must try to "get it" with his paw on the glass.

Let's hope this one doesn't crack.

Ramblings of a Riddler...

It has been a long week and I cannot put together one big coherent story, so that will have to wait until tomorrow.  Instead, you get my ramblings. Enjoy.

~People look at you funny if you only wash one hand in the bathroom, even if your other hand is injured and you did not use it.  These same people do not blink twice if someone walks out of the bathroom without washing their hands at all.~

~Your stream of consciousness is supposed to STAY in your consciousness. When I am waiting for the judge to call my case, I do not want to hear the following come from your mouth in between gasps for air "must put my stuff down" and "have to check in with the clerk now."  I do NOT need a play by play of your actions because I can SEE YOU (and you are not that interesting in any event).~

~The doctor has told me I am narcoleptic, among other things.  I prefer to say I love naps. Nice long naps. All day long.  However, even I, in my narcoleptic state, could not fall asleep and immediately start snoring LOUDLY within two minutes of sitting down in a courtroom.  How do you make it through your job buddy?  Oh - and you need to see a few doctors, at a minimum, to help you with your multitude of problems.  But not my doctor. He only misdiagnoses me and then forgets my ailments.  That will not do you any good.~

~My office eats WAY too many Cheezits (not I - I stick to pretzels).  We have gone through 4 cases in a week. That is 12 lbs per case or 48 POUNDS of Cheezits. In a WEEK??? We need an office fast (um, not feast) pronto! Although the person that dropped the Cheezit in the bathroom needs a different kind of help.  Cheezits in the bathroom?  Why would you take FOOD in the bathroom?~

~Speaking of bathrooms and the office, a vagina exploded in the women's office the other day. Yes, you read right. No, I have no explanation. I apologize if the word "vagina" offended you but you cannot nearly be as offended as my nostrils were.  I can only hope that the person was in our office seeking counsel to file a lawsuit against her doctor for malpractice.  If not, she should be.  And I should get pain and suffering.  Five hours worth.  That is how long it took to clear up. Five hours!  I think they actually infused the bathroom with brand new air.  Oh and to the person a couple hours later that thought the bathroom spray would work? It didn't.  It just smelled like a flowery exploded vagina. Nice try though.~

~Speaking of math and the office (see math two paragraphs ago), it is probably a good idea if you are going to send a forwarded email to the entire office about an alternate proposal for the $700 billion bailout, that you make sure the math in the email is correct.  Otherwise, someone in the office, perhaps even your own secretary, will immediately hit "reply to all" and totally destroy the whole point of the email with accurate calculations and everyone else will just pretend they did not witness the whole chain of events.  (No, I did not send out this forward. I also did not do the math but did check it and cackle after the reply to all). (P.S. even snopes did the math right)~

~I say F@ck an awful lot. Even when I am not reinjuring myself.~

~Yesterday afternoon there was a "Breaking News" email sent by the local news indicating a nearby school had been closed due to a "foul odor having been detected."  Boy, that vagina travels.~

~Does anyone know what Pickleball is?  Someone in the office won a gold medal in this event. I am not sure if it is a sport or something dirty. Either way I am scared.  I was also blissfully unaware that some coworkers were involved in local Olympics.  Lost bliss  is a terrible thing.~

~One can only wonder what Google searches will lead people to this post.~

Let's Talk About Fish

Well, seafood to be exact. I love me some seafood. Shrimp, crab legs, lobster butt* - you name it and I am probably down with it. This even includes calamari.

Lately, I have been hob snobbing** with clients and partners at lunch. It is a recent development which involves fine dining and a lot of food. To say I am on board with this development is an understatement. In fact, my Mom recently asked if all I do now is lunch. No, silly Mom. I also ponder about lunch, relax after lunch, tell others about my lunch. I do SO much more than actual lunching.

In any event, at a few of these lunches we have had calamari. Fried calamari. If you have had calamari a/k/a squid you know that it doesn't have that much taste and is kind of chewy. But if you fry those bad boys - can you say YUM?*** Fried calamari it is. Well one day, I made the mistake of cutting my calamari. The piece was too big and I was trying to be all dainty and crap (fine dining and all). That is when I saw that my calamari is actually squid!! (Yes, I knew all along it was squid but was able to disguise my knowledge with the fried batter). I almost stopped eating right then. It is one thing to eat squid blindly oblivious to the fact that it is a squid then it is to actually look at the squid while about to digest it. Think about it. Instead, I decide to close my eyes, pop it in my mouth and go back to blind oblivion.

Which brings us to the other day. We were out at another lunch when one of the people I was with, who is also on a rather strict diet (i.e. no fried food), decided he might want some calamari. He asked them to prepare it without frying it. I am not sure what it involved, maybe stir fry in a wine sauce or something? What came to the table was. . .

A BIG BOWL OF SQUID IN LIQUID

I am not kidding. He proceeded to eat a big bowl of squid with a spoon. I almost lost it. There was no disguise, no oblivion. Just squid and all of its tentacles looking right at you. Going right in his mouth by the spoonful. Do not try to visualize this. You will not like the picture. So, what did I do? Oh, I used my recently perfected weapon that I call the Barbie Doll. I plaster a sincere smile on my face and an interested look while completely blanking out and emptying my head. No one is the wiser. Because, believe me, there is no closing your eyes on that one. For when they open again, there is still a big bowl of squid with a spoon. And that ain't a pretty picture my friends.

*lobster butt is a term that B and I coined while on the John Tesh cruise - that is a story for a different time.

**hob snobbing is a word I made up from hobnobbing and the picture of snobs while fine dining - aren't I clever? Just so we are clear, the people I dine with are not snobs. I just like the way that sounds.

***what isn't yummy fried? Seriously, someone please tell me so I can eat less fried food!