Book It, Barrister!

I have been obsessed with barrister bookcases for quite some time. All I kept telling B is how much I love bookcases, barrister bookcases. He must have been listening because he started scouring estate sales for them. He found quite a few.  Sometimes we would even head to one, hoping it would still be there (especially on half off day), but the bookcases were always sold.

Imagine my surprise when I came home one night and found this in the living room casually leaning against the wall:

My beautiful barrister book case

So gorgeous! I asked B about this new addition and he told me he finally found one at an estate sale that hadn't been sold and actually got a good deal on it. He was excited to find out that every piece is removable so you can make it shorter.* However, I like it just the height it is.  Plus, the removed pieces cannot form another bookcase without a bottom, so they would just have to go into storage.

I also told B that I loved the bookcase right where it initially landed. This spot originally held a fish tank as seen here.  Since that tank is no longer with us, that spot has been empty for a while.  I love seeing this in its space.  It seems to complete the room.  

This is one of B's best finds although honestly I love them all.


     

*I later found out that all barrister bookcases have removable pieces hence the beauty of them. When a lawyer ran out of space, they could just order another piece. The more you know...** 

**Thanks for the knowledge, Dad.

Can I Interest You in a Little Fine Dining or at Least the Furniture to Do So?

Remember back in May when I informed you I lost my dining room set when B took my offhand comment super seriously? Well, just as I thought we would never have a place to store our once a year dishes and platters, it was B to the rescue once again.

As this set is so amazing, I have almost forgiven B for forcing me to relocate things into our way too small kitchen.  Almost.  This is Jacobian furniture which, from what I understand from GTS*, is the form furniture took during the Renaissance in England. Yes, our furniture is THAT old. Or based on ideas that old. Whatever.

This picture doesn't do the size justice, but B informed me that he didn't want to take a straight
on picture because then he would be in it through the mirror. So camera shy, that one.

This is our buffet. B may or may not have broke it immediately upon trying to move it.
It has super heavy drawers and is awesome.

This is the china cabinet.  It is also awesome and now holds all of our glasses.  It also is a haven for cats trying to escape dogs.  

You can see the carved detail in the chair and buffet. This is my favorite shot.
Good job B!

Closer shot of the cabinet.

Up close to the buffet.

This set is ever way huger than it looks because there is a leaf. And by a leaf I mean the top of the table lifts up and goes between two extenders. The whole top of the table is a leaf. One day I am going to make B do that again and put all of the chairs we got with it to show you just how regal this set really looks.

I actually like the table with all 6 chairs around it, but it makes it kind of crowded and one chair may or may not be in the midst of repair as well.  

We got this set for a very reasonable price.  Thereafter, my friend whom I stole the trash chair from got a very similar site at an even better price. I might hate her now. The jury is still out on that one.

Also, you will notice the glass on top of every piece. The set did not come like that. B brilliantly stole the idea from our neighbor. With three cats with three sets of back claws and the never ending desire to launch off of our furniture with said claws, the furniture is grateful for B's idea, as am I.

It's the little things.

   




*Google That Shit, or in this case, Googling That Shit

I Chair You to Say This Doesn't Look Better

It has been forever since we got the chair that came with out house upholstered, but I am finally getting around to the grand unveiling.

Thankfully, I got my local photographer a/k/a B on the job. He took many wonderful photos of all of the furniture I am supposed to catch you up on here.  You can thank him for the next couple of posts.

Let's start with The Chair. Remember The Chair? The one the former owners left behind that was all chewed up and ugly? The one I said had good bones?  Here is a picture of it in its original state to refresh your recollection:

Good lines. All chewed up.

Look at it now in its magnificent glory:

Good lines. Gorgeous fabric. So pretty.

The people that upholstered it, fell in love with as did I.  I think this was a wise piece to keep. Now, you can even sit in it without thinking your ribs will be cut by an arm.

Ooohh...

Ahhh....

Posting these pictures makes me excited to get the other New Chair going. I will have to get B on that!

 

Memorializing Mutts This Holiday Weekend

Remember that last fall holiday weekend, Labor Day, when our trip to the cottage was almost deterred by B finding a dog, Gus to be exact? I was thinking about that this weekend, another long one, but minus the trip to the cottage. I realized I had not told you about B's latest find.

A couple of months ago, I got the call. You know the one. "I found a dog." This time it was early morning and I was at the office. I immediately started searching the ads for missing dogs matching the description B gave me without any luck.

The dog got the usual - grooming and a vet check. B said the pup was roughed up. He looked like a pit bull and his ears were tore up, there were scars on his face, he was super skinny and there was some issue going on with his tail. Then B said he thought of his friend's family whose dog had recently passed. He was going to have her bring her kids to meet the dog. Everyone at the vet raved about the pup and how sweet he was. I swear, only the sweet ones find B! 

By the time I got off work, the dog now known as Dempsey was happily ensconced in his new home. I admittedly was a bit nervous about the unknown dog and how he would react to the environment. Seems he fit right in. His new home is full of people. There are people and kids coming and going left and right. All of them stopped to love him and tell him how gorgeous he was. I visited him and found out for myself just how beautiful, sweet and happy he was, despite all that he might have gone through. 

The first few weeks were rough. Dempsey has powerful jaws and did not like his crate too much so he just helped himself out of it. They never did get one that could hold him. Luckily, the only thing he did outside of the crate was use the bathroom. Disgusting? Yes. Fixable? Definitely. At least he didn't chew things. 

I am happy to say, it has been a few months now and B reports that Dempsey has gained much needed weight, is housebroken, does well on a leash and his tail seems to be doing better (he was chewing on it instead of the furniture I think). The family loves him and I am sure he shows them he loves them right back. We will count that as another successful rescue by B. Way to go, B!

Hopefully B will get us updated pictures soon!

It Wouldn't Be A Vacation If There Wasn't A Dog to Save

We were getting ready for our family vacation at the cottage at the lake.  Jersey was looking forward to it as we all know she loves the lake. Nevada wasn't sure what a lake was, but if Jersey likes it, she was all in.

We were supposed to go at the Fourth of July, but I had a trial that did not settle until the last minute. One vacation ruined.  This was the last time before fall sets in that we, meaning Jersey (and possibly Nevada), could get some swimming in.  So I took Thursday off to do last minute things like laundry, fix my tire, sleep in.  We were set to leave at 3:30.

Then B called me at 9.  He found a dog.  He told me I needed to find a home for it because he was a very sweet, lovable dog that he refused to take to the shelter. Sound familiar? That is how we described Nevada.

Anyway, since Nevada, I have been trolling around rescue sites and knew very well that I would never surrender a dog to the local pound, as it would probably not make it out alive unless adopted.  So I started networking and networking.

B sent me this picture:

Aren't I a pretty boy? Or should it be handsome?

How could I not want to save that face?  He looked a bit like Jersey. Then there was this picture:

And a good boy!

What a sweetie! So I started putting those two pictures on Facebook everywhere. Even my friends were reposting it.

Then B sent this one:

And a silly boy!

Blurry, but look at that sideways tongue.  How about this one:

And a goofy boy!

Yes he is upside down on someone's foot.

Most no kill shelters and rescues were full.  One awesome rescue stepped up and tried to find a babysitter for at least the time we were gone if we would foster him when we got back. They offered to pay for food, vetting, and anything else we would need including training.  

The problem was finding a babysitter.

We called in reinforcements - my brother. You may remember him from staying with Nevada for a week right after we got her because we were going to Europe. Why do these things always happen at the most inopportune times?

B took the dog for a groom and then brought him home before taking him to the vet for a check up.  First, he was LARGE.  80 lbs it turns out.  Double the size of our dogs.  In fact, our immediate neighbor came out and exclaimed, "Your dog got BIG." Um, she had just seen Jersey the day before. Those are some fast acting steroids.

Second, he was just as sweet in person:

I just want to be petted.

I named him Davison after the street that he was found by. Then during the 40 minutes I spent with him outside which mainly consisted of him flopping down on the ground next to me, rolling over, and staring into my eyes as I scratched his ears and rubbed his belly, I named him Romeo.

We introduced him to Jersey and Nevada.  Nevada decided to show her affection in a naughty way. *Ahem* oral slut *Ahem*.  Romeo wasn't neutered and he thought he would repay her with some affection of his own. Then we separated them. However, he did not mind any dogs, big or small, or even our cats that he accidentally met.

Just as my brother was on his way over, we heard from a neighbor who read about Romeo on Facebook and offered to watch him. By the time she came over to meet him, the "watching" was turning into "perhaps keeping him."  Turns out they were looking for a friend for their dog and Romeo was the right age and size.  She left with him, but not before I took this picture:

And sit pretty.

I am happy to report that Romeo, now named Gus, did great that night in his new home. The neighbors took him to be neutered and it was determined that he had heartworms. They are paying for that treatment and the vet expects him to make a full recovery.

Davison/Romeo/Gus stole everyone's hearts and B and I were so happy he found a home. We checked on him via Facebook all weekend. He even stole my brother's heart who insists that Gus will "always be Jake" to him.

Happy Tails, Gus!  

*B affectionately called this my first rescue. I think our execution needs a little help. My parents are just glad we didn't decide to add him to our brood.

From Jersey to Nevada and No Points In Between: The Tale of the Woeful Dog That Stole Our Hearts

It happened last Wednesday as I was sitting in my office.  Taking a glance at Facebook, I saw a post from a girl I went to high school with.  She posted a picture of a dog that she found on her porch when she opened her door.

The first thing that struck me was how much it looked like Jersey. The second thing was that it had a rope around its neck that looks like it was chewed.  The third, and saddest, thing was that I could see all of its ribs.  My heart broke and then grew three times its size like in The Grinch.

My friend's friends all discouraged her from finding the owner since the pup was so neglected and encouraged her to keep it since it made its way to her home. She said it was very loving and playful. Also, it never left her porch even when she had to leave to pick up her kids.  She also found that it was immediately protectful of her house.

However, she could not keep it.

I quickly emailed the picture to B and he told me that we could take it before it would go back to its owner.  His heart had grown as well.

In the end, no one claimed the dog, no service would come get the dog, and I got an urgent message from my friend asking me to come get it. And so I did.  I drove to a rather rough part of the city to pick up a dog I knew nothing about.  She was laying on the porch when I got there.

She immediately jumped up, wagged her tail and ran over to me.  We coaxed her in the car and off we went.

Driving home was a trip.  This was not a trained dog and she tried to climb behind me, on me, in front of me, and spent a hell of a long time licking my face.

Once we got home, I made her a bed in the garage as we needed to get her to the vet before she could come into the house.  She was so loving and playful and grateful. I fed her a bit and you could tell she was starving which hurt my heart even more.  B texted me often with updates as he was working that night.  He requested I send him a picture to see what she really looked like, but it was hard since she was constantly climbing on me. Finally, exhausted she laid down for a moment and I captured one:

She immediately became protective of our house barking when strange voices were around, but generally quiet after that. When B came home that night, she ran up to him, tail wagging and full of kisses.

The next day she went to the vet and got a clean bill of health and some shots.  She is about 6-8 months old and about 10 lbs underweight.  She weighed in at a light 32.5 lbs. The vet thought she was a shepherd boxer mix, but who knows.  After that trip, B introduced her to Jersey and that was two of the happiest dogs I have ever seen.

She has since made her way into the house and is making herself right at home.

Although she has not been trained, she is very loving and learns rather quickly.  Mostly.  B and I have had to put on our puppy training hats.  It seems like such a long time ago I had to make sure to let a puppy out every couple of hours to prevent accidents.  However, she sleeps through the night with no accidents and mostly leaves the cats alone.  She is a keeper.

In keeping with tradition, we named her after the street on which she was found, Nevada. Technically it was not the exact street, but one right close by.  The thought was we could call her Neve for short, but it turns out we typically use her full name. I think she is starting to figure it out.

As of yesterday, she was up to 37 pounds and her coat is looking better. She has a lot of energy for a dog that was so lacking and we think she is a great addition to our family.

Welcome home, Nevada.

The Art of Laboring, Rescuing and Discovering

Well, it is Labor Day. The day you celebrate all of the hard work and labor everyone does by not working.  Wait. Isn't that every holiday?  We are certainly practicing holiday living over here.  Some more so than others.  This is what I came downstairs to find:

Why, yes, that IS every single animal we own lying on B.  B seems pretty happy about it right?  Care to take a closer look?

Chester wants to help him play video games.

Jersey cannot really fit on B but she does a damn good job of taking up most of the rest of the couch!

And see that one right there? The cute little fuzz ball all curled up under B's arm?  Also known as Brad?  Yes, he ESCAPED AGAIN THE OTHER NIGHT.  Escaped. Again.  Is escape the right word when he basically walked through an open door?  Maybe not.  However, B found all three of the cats outside and managed to get them all (Chester ran right inside without any real prodding, Mooch was found under the car), except for B who made a mad leap on to a fence which he then used as his own vaulting mat to sail off into the front yard and disappear before B got there.  

Why, yes, B was not thrilled to be awakened at 3:30 a.m. that night, two hours before he awakes for work, to hear my flying down the stairs screaming "I WILL SAVE YOU BRAD!!!".  What can I say? I heard a major streetcat fight and my little B was not going to get hurt.  

Never did find the cat fight. Or a flashlight for that matter.  Brad, however, was sitting on the steps when B awoke in the morning.  Is there such a thing as a cat crate? We need a cat crate for that one.

A family reunited.

In other news, B was late coming home from work today because he found a gun in the street. Yes, a GUN just lying in the STREET.  A gun with a full clip.  We are so gangsta' around here that we use words like "clip."  So he dutifully took it to the police station who asked him why he didn't call 911.  Can you imagine that call?

B: Yes, I would like to report a gun in the street.
Police: Is anyone holding it?
B: No, it is just lying there.
Police: Is anyone dead.
B: Not that I can see.
Police: Well, just bring that shit in.

Happy Labor Day everyone! May your animals remain prisoners and may your streets remain free from guns!

UPDATE: For those inquiring minds, B would like to report he is not a dumbass. He picked up the gun with his sweatshirt and the clip with his hat. No fingerprints.

They Know Your Every Step. Especially When You Tell Them Your Every Step. Also, Reindeer Are Super Fast.

So the last time I posted, Brad has escaped but miraculously returned the next morning like a grimy Christmas present.  You will also recall that I had quite the conversation with the delivery place whom we thought were the reason for Brad's Great Escape. Turns out it wasn't so, but in the meantime a strange thing happened. Or so I thought.

After I finished yelling at the operator, she told me that she could tell me which branch delivered my package. I gave her my zip code, she told me what branch and then proceeded to tell me they don't have a phone number. I found this hard to believe but just declared "I WILL JUST GO THERE IN PERSON AND DEMAND TO SPEAK TO MY DRIVER. GOOD DAY!"  

And then I didn't give it anymore thought until I came home, discovered the ripped screen and told B that I didn't think the delivery place had anything to do with it.  I did not tell him, however, that while he was out searching for Brad, the delivery place drove by. He probably would have been angry that I didn't chase the driver down.

The next day after Brad was safe and sound and I was back at the office, I received a text from B indicating that the delivery place had called him and told him that they spoke to the driver who remembers seeing Brad on the catio. B told them not to worry, Brad may have been spooked, got supercat strength and busted out the screen. Not their fault.  Well, not really.

Meanwhile I sat in my office perplexed.  How did the delivery place know to call B? How did they get his number? When I called, I only gave them our zip code. I did not call from B's number. Hell, I didn't even call from my number.  I considered this an amazing show of just HOW GOOD THEIR TRACKING COULD BE. I discussed it a lot with my coworkers and would say things like:

"How did THEY know?"

"Did they just ask EVERY driver if it saw a cat?"

"Did they just narrow down deliveries in that time frame?"

"Did they narrow down deliveries by zip code?"

"Do they have a satellite?"

"Are they watching me RIGHT NOW?"

Yes, I would look up and around the ceiling at that last one.  By the time I got home I was full of conspiracy theories and thought we might have to run like Will Smith in that movie where they were tracking him all over when he mistakenly took a package in a store and the woman behind me in the theater kept gasping at "ALL OF THAT TECHNOLOGY."

So I came home prepared to tell B that we were going to have to pack light and really, how does one go on the lam with three cats and a dog, when B said:

B: What in the hell are you talking about?

Me: The delivery place! They knew to call you! I didn't give them ANY information.  They have satellites. They are watching us.

B; What...what?

Me: HOW DID THEY GET YOUR PHONE NUMBER? HOW DID THEY KNOW TO CALL?

B: I emailed them yesterday.

Me: THEY KNOW EVERYTHING WE DO!!!...wait, what?

B: I. Emailed. Them.

Me: Well, hell, why didn't you tell me that? That makes a lot more sense.

B: Doesn't it?

So the delivery place isn't watching me. Allegedly. They are still suspect. Don't worry though, I am sending Vicky after them.

On a completely different topic, watch the video below. This man's wife literally gets taken by a reindeer and he does NOTHING. He barely moves.

I would like to think if we were in the same situation, B would at least TRY to run after me. However, I may be mistaken. B's response was "reindeer are REALLY fast."  Well, gee thanks. Apparently, I don't have much to worry about though as B assures me I would never be somewhere where I would have to wear a big furry parka, outside in the snow with a reindeer in the vicinity.

He is probably right. Just to be safe, I am going to get one of those kid leashes for us. If the reindeer gets me, he is coming along too. Ha!

Pay It Forward 3: It's B's Turn, but Someone Almost Does Die. Charity is Hard.

This weekend was B's turn to pay it forward. Unfortunately, things did not go as smooth for him as the two times I paid it forward. In fact, at some point, I think B regretted his decision to pay it forward and, if possible, would have paid it back. Probably with a swift smack upside someone's head. But I digress.

We were up north at our cottage retreat and decided to take a break from watching Jersey in the lake to get some dinner. We pulled up to the hamburger joint in town, also known as the bar. Side note: Everyone goes to the bar. Even the babies. And that reminds me of the movie Sweet Home Alabama where Reese Witherspoon says to her friend "You have a BABY. In a BAR." I love me some Reese.

I digress again.

So we pull up and to our surprise there is a front row parking spot. As quick as we could yell "SCORE", we were in the spot and I was out the door. At that moment, B motioned to me to get back in the car. A guy asked him to leave the spot because he had his mom with him and she was elderly. So B decided to pay it forward and give them the spot.

Not as easy as it sounds. We started to back up. A car stopped for us, or we thought. As we backed up, the car started honking. I started yelling. B started cursing and threatening to just "take the damn spot back." But all was well. Stupid car kept driving. We found a spot a half a block away. Man and old mom parked really close. I told B he should feel good and he did. The guy thanked him profusely and we went in for a burger.

And as we sat in the bar, eating burgers and ruminating about how many babies were in a bar, the waitress came over with a beer for B. The guy with the mom also paid it forward.

So the cycle continues...

Also, it is Not a Birthday Celebration Until Your Husband Threatens Someone with Bodily Harm a/k/a Romance at its Finest

B would like me to point out that my entire birthday was not full of gas problems and starvation. He is right. He took me out to a nice dinner that night. He also decided we should stop at our local big box store to pick up some Coke Zero. I have a drinking problem. He was excited because the cases were on sale for $5.00.

They didn't have any.

The rest of the story is best told through a conversation with my Mom:

Mom: Hi! Done with dinner already?

Me: Yes, we are at the store. B wants to buy some Coke Zero because it is on sale. They do not have any. He just got into a huge argument with a random worker he dragged down the aisle.

Mom: Uh oh.

Me: Yep. He told the guy he just didn't believe there weren't more in the back. This was [insert big named store here]. They had to have more than 5 cases. Then he pointed to the area and made the guy count with him as to how many cases could fit in the empty spot.

Mom: Oh boy.

Me: Yep. Then he told the guy to "grab your two way. We're going in the back." B took the guy in the back to convince him that there are no more cases.

Me: I haven't seen him since.

My Mom and I discuss B's penchant for trouble making for a good 10 minutes.

Me: This is boring.

Mom: I bet.

Me: Oh no!

Mom: What?

Me: The guy is back! Gerry is back but B is nowhere to be found?

Mom: What?

Me: Where is B? WHAT DID HE DO TO B?

Mom: I don't know! Where could he be?

Me: Do you think Gerry killed B? I SAW YOU GO IN THE BACK WITH HIM - THERE IS A WITNESS!

Mom: Are you yelling at the worker? Really?

Me: YES! How else will he know that I can turn him in if B shows up dead somewhere?

Me: How am I even supposed to find B, dead or alive?

Mom: I wonder where he is...

B was safe. The store employees, however, were not. He made his way up to the Assistant Manager who still could not produce any cases of Coke. There was some lame explanation as to how the Coke guy makes deliveries every day. My Mom pointedly stated that delivery five cases of pop a day would seem like a waste of gas. So true. That is why we are not heads of corporations I guess.

The assistant manager did let B get two 12 packs of Coke for $5.00 much to the confusion and bewilderment of the cashier who said "But they are $3.98 each!"

That B. He is getting things done.

Best birthday gift ever.*

*Well, actually, an iPhone would be the best birthday gift ever. Stupid Apple & AT&T - OPEN UP THE IPHONE TO ALL CELLPHONE PROVIDERS.**

**This has been a public service announcement from an avid Apple fan and lifelong Verizon lover.

***You are welcome.

Now We're On Display!

Shortly after I came home the other day to a backyard full of pumpkins, an idea was born. Following our neighbor's advice, B decided to create a display in our front yard. As you can tell, lighting was not on our side. It was almost 7 which means basically dark around these parts. But, I did manage to get some pictures.

First it started with two pumpkins:

But that wasn't enough for B:

Another pumpkin was added into the mix, off to the side temporarily:

While B pondered a strategy:

And then did some heavy lifting:

The night started looking spooky (and this picture is out of order but I am too lazy to go back and correct it):

Until there were four pumpkins:

Then in the daylight the next day, there were six:

Inviting, isn't it? A path of pumpkins to lead you...

That pumpkin on the top is HUGE even if it is all dented looking. B estimates it to weigh 250 lbs. P.S. B is STRONG:

I love the rainbow of colors/shades in this line:

And, of course, since Halloween is upon us, it was time to change the M&Ms:

On a final note...if you have been a reader of this blog for any length of time, you have probably guessed that the display you see above is not the final display. You would be right.

Stay tuned.

*No one stopped by to say anything about our display. Boo to all of them.

**However, B did manage to scare the crap out of two teenage girls that were taking a picture of the pumpkins by yelling from my office "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

***B then managed to become creepy old guy by then saying to said teenage girls "There are more pumpkins in the garage."**** Uh, huh.

****In B's defense, there are more pumpkins in the garage and the door was open.

*****The girls, however, did not know this.