My dog is in so much trouble.

See, we have a fancy-schmancy PetSafe electronic fence. ’tis wireless. And it works by sending a signal out to a collar.

An expensive collar.

Which is missing, thanks to SOMEONE deciding to forage through the brush. Gone, without a trace. We suspect the El Cheapo plastic latch on the collar let go.

And APPARENTLY, someone realized it was missing. While I was at work, and TheMan was supposed to be wrangling creatures of both the four-legged and two-legged variety, SOMEONE sneaked out of the yard.

How do I know this?

Because the lovely police officer TOLD ME SO. The neighbors with whom we do not get along (they were consistently tearing up the residential road at ridiculous speeds, and so we called the cops. Now the whole charming bunch flips us off whenever they drive past) reported a “wild dog” who was scaring them.

The dog shouldn’t have been out of the yard. Period. That’s on us. Or the one of us who was home, at least.

However, she is ridiculously un-aggressive, and based on what they police officer was saying, I *suspect* there may have been exaggeration going on.

Also, we need to get a new dog license. On Tuesday, when the city is back to work.

Oh, but wait. As I went to pull out the paperwork needed to prove that she is not rabid, I noticed that her shots? Are out of date.

Barely.

But still. Out. Of. Date.

So now, I have to buy a replacement collar($120), a license ($40) and a round of shots for the dog.($100-150…and that’s if our vet can get her in on Tuesday…otherwise, who knows how much?)

I’m going to go curl up with my empty wallet now…..

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After watching the following commercial, the three of us (TheMan, BIL and I) all sat in silence. I looked at TheMan, he looked over to BIL, who looked at me.

I’ve included it, for your viewing pleasure.

Exactly.
So we’re all staring at each other, and I open my mouth to say, “That was the DUMBEST commercial I’ve ever seen.”

The guys crack up, and say they were blown away by the stupid, also.

And *I* open my mouth, and I say, “And did you notice, he was effing BAREFOOT, too???” Like, clearly, omg, this is horrific.

Neither one of the two noticed that the guy in the commercial wasn’t wearing socks when he put on his shoes.

Please, internetz, did you??

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A little give, a little get.

Get 30% off your in-store Gap/Old Navy/Banana Republic purchase, August 26-29, 2010.

Give 5% of what you’re spending to Feed America.

Combining shopping with charity? Awesome. When this promotion landed in my inbox, I was excited. When I discovered I could email out an invite to up to 50 people, I knew I had to share.*

Leave a comment (please fill in the email box) and I will send you out an email invite.**

*This isn’t a sponsored post. I do get the same 30% off that anyone else will get, but I was just really excited by the idea, and wanted to share.

**First 50 commenters only. If I get more than 50 comments though, I will probably pass out from surprise.

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Of course, by lazy, I mean “I’m off scrubbing floors/dishes/toilets and folding laundry/making meals/enforcing nap times/entertaining small children and pulling out my hair.”

***

Found out today that the school has delayed the start because of mold. Lovely. That means that instead of the relief my wallet desperately needed, we will be paying for daycare for two children, instead of one, for an indeterminate amount of time. Plus, when she does go back? I’ll be worrying about mold. (and I know they’re doing everything they can to make sure it’s safe before the kids start. Still. Worry.)

***

I go back to work tomorrow. My back still hurts. I’m worried about lifting/moving the residents around.

***

I started writing, fictionally, again. Zombies keep cropping up. I’ve decided to go with it. This thrills my husband to no end.

***

I am thinking I’m going to have to go back to, gah, scheduling things now that the semester has started for both TheMan and I. And with Truck starting pre-school, and MissQ (eventually) starting 5K….crazy busy.

That’s what’s up at the moment,

See you soon….

Jen ThePsychobabble

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(The dreaded Squirrellius Internetz Devourisis) Image via Wikipedia

Some of you have already heard of the bane of my existence. The root of my frustration on many nights. The one creature I regularly curse about.

The Squirrels.

See, we have “high-speed” internet. And I do mean those air quotes. Because it’s only high speed if the sun is shining.

When it rains, our speed drops, well, rapidly. And we’re left crawling the internet, instead of surfing it. For the longest time, this really puzzled me.

Then I found where our local hub is housed, while on a walk one day. It’s in a converted garage, people.

For reals.

Now, if you’re a squirrel, and it’s raining, where are you going to run?

Bingo!

So. The squirrels occasionally eat my internet.

But no longer! Come Monday, we are switching providers!

I have my fingers crossed that we will be saved from the Internet Devouring Squirrels.

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My husband has long been intrigued by the idea of canning. Food. In jars. At home. Which I understand the practicality of it, and the idea of having the convenience of canned, with the yumminess of home-made is alluring. Truly.

But from what I remembered from my childhood, I thought the process would involve a lot sweat, tears and maybe even some blood. But he REALLY wanted to make his pickles, so fine, let’s make some pickles.

It didn’t go entirely smoothly. Example? We may have failed to consider how we were going to get the submerged jars OUT of the boiling water.

But it wasn’t too bad. So my husband starts talking about how he’s going to do it “next time”, and won’t it be great to have our own food in cans?

I ask him, “So what are you going to start home-canning?”

“Well,” he tells me, “We could do sauces, soups, veggies…pretty much anything you normally buy in cans.”

And so. I turn to him. And I say, with all sincerity…

“Oh, like tuna!”

….

The poor man.

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“This post is part of SOYJOY‘s What brings you joy contest. Learn more here”

The question up for consideration is, “What brings you [me] joy?”

Well, my wonderful, goofy, family is probably tops in that department. But I’m betting most people would say the same. So lets assume that I’ve listed the many reasons my family is a source of joy, and move on to….

Zombies.

Zombies bring me joy.

Well, not zombies themselves, because brain-dead rotting flesh walking around trying to munch on you is not particularly conducive to happiness.

But zombie stories, and zombie movies? Apocalyptic doom and gloom, end of the world as we know it, and we’re left to survive as best we can with what we have?

For whatever reason, these are the things that give me the warm and fuzzy feelings.

Luckily, I married someone who is as interested in surviving the Zombie Apocalypse as I am. And if he fails?

Well, at least he’ll be  a hot zombie!

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I’ve made jokes before about how I’m always cold. I must be descended from reptiles, I’m so cold blooded. I’m the girl you see wearing a sweatshirt when it hits 70(F) out, nyuk nyuk nyuk.

Um. Yeah. Only partly kidding.

Tonight, I got up and shut all the windows in the living room. Because I was freezing.

My husband made me go check the thermostat, to see what temperature it was in here.

It said 75(F), people. 75.

Descended. From. Lizards.

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We’re in the kitchen. We’re trying a new brand of breaded processed frozen fish, but have discovered, alas, that we are out of tartar sauce.

No problem, we’ve both cooked for a living before, and have faced down worse situations on Friday Fish-Fry night. (Running out of tartar sauce? Hah. Try running out of fish!)

So we gather the needed ingredients (mayonnaise, relish and lemon juice), and pull out the trusty wooden spoon.

After inquiring about how long we have owned said spoon, and why it might, after six years, be time to buy a replacement spoon, and also discussing what is the correct size of the handle and the appropriate curvature of the bowl of the ideal wooden spoon…AFTER this….

My husband turns to me and says something about how wooden spoons are green. I ask “Oh, like recyclable?” He goes on and says something about renewable resource blahblahblah.

And after this thought-out theory on his part, I come back with, “Well, yeah. But you could recycle a wooden spoon, right?”

He looks me, and shrugs, “Yeah, I guess you could recycle it. You could sharpen it and make it a zombie shank, I suppose.”

Of course. Zombies.

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For a quick rundown of wtf I’m tracking, read about my summer goals.

#1 Yeah, two strikes against me, and I almost didn’t bother this week. But. Follow. Through.

#2 Am passing my classes. Home work done on time. Which reminds me, I need to go do that tomorrow night.

#3 Is looking more unattainable every day.

#4 Yes, have managed to do this. So yay!

#5 Failure all the way around. Blah.

#6 2lbs. In 3 weeks.

#7 Read two books not worth mentioning.

Here’s to hoping next week is back on track.

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