Bits and Pieces

All kinds of cool things to show!

First of all, we have a new grand-pup. Sarah, Scottie's youngest, adopted Foxy from the pound. (Yes, we like that. I'm much in favor of saving lives.) I'm told Foxy is part Golden Retriever, part Chow-Chow.

I'm thinking there's something else in there too, something with the more pointy, delicate face. Anyway, isn't she pretty? And, notice how she matches the red-gold flecks in Sarah's tile? Wonder if that was deliberate. . . nah, I don't picture Sarah thinking of dog as decorative item.
So, welcome to Foxy.

Me thinks I need to do a whole post dedicated to all the grand-pups. I'd do one dedicated to grandkids, but we have no recent photos. I need to complain to the parental units.

[And, while I'm on the dog topic, I did my first football related little victory dance yesterday when I heard that Michael Vick got an indefinite suspension from the NFL. 'Bout time a few of the powers that be do the right thing.]


And this would be The Man in his Park uniform. He won't like this picture because it makes him look less skinny than he is because of his arm being up and holding the shirt away from his skinny self. With all his preparation for his first Century ride (coming up in a couple of weeks) he is getting really, really thin. And the shirt is loose, really loose. So there is lots of fabric to be held away from the body. Now if I were the type of woman my mother was I'd tailor this to fit him like she did my older brother's Army uniforms. Not happening.

Just thought you needed one of those "man in uniform" shots.







Here we have the remains of the one big sunflower growing here along with a couple of the little culprits. The goldfinches have simply decimated it. The foliage is totally stripped; now they finished removing the petals and are eating their way through the back of the head.

I can't really complain since the flower was planted by birds from seed in our feeders. It's only fair that it becomes bird food itself.





Ellie Cat has adopted the top of the old pie cabinet as one of her favorite perches. This goofy girl likes high places and hidey-holes. When we lived in New Mexico we heard meowing during a dinner party and found her shut in the bottom of an old buffet that I used to store linens. She'd sneaked in while I was setting the table and been shut in. Last week Scottie was vacuuming and left the door to the closet where the central vac is located open. Yep, she went in and ended up spending the night there sans water or litter box. She beat feet up the steps to the litter box the first thing upon her release. Then she stationed herself on the steps and took swipes at ME when I'd pass, obviously blaming me for having been imprisoned! I had nothing to do with it, but tell that to a cat.







I've been less than pleased with the color I chose to paint the legs of the old tub. It looked too much like pot metal. This new effect is the result of using silver leaf on them. Cool.

I've never worked with silver (or gold) leaf before and found it quite fascinating. The sheets of silver leaf are incredibly thin and fall apart easily. It's applied over a very tacky glue, then brushed repeatedly with a soft brush. What doesn't adhere falls off. You can see a few loose pieces on the floor to be cleaned up.

Anyway, I like this much better. I especially like how the "claw" now is more evident.

Here's my funny story for the week: Wednesday was my day at my little part time job. So, I'm there late, being dogged by health issues, the boss lady is having a bad day, things are going from bad to worse. We get a call that the alarm at her home is going off. Of course she is in an important meeting. So, I stick my head in and tell her what's happening. She thinks that her dogs have probably set it off, so I volunteered to run over to the house and shut it down. I take her car keys and what I think is the code to the alarm, and off I go. Get to the house and notice the garage door is partially open but think nothing of it. Go in and try to shut off the alarm. Wrong. I have one key wrong and the #@%! thing blares like a fog horn. Her birds start going nuts. Dogs are barking outside. I call the office where I can hardly be heard over the din, Nola says she'll be right over (with both of us forgetting that I have her keys), and a cop pulls up. I explain who I am and why I'm there and that she is on her way. First thing is I get scolded for going in the house when there could be an intruder, especially since the garage door is partially open. (Neither of us knew there is no entrance to the house from the garage.) So, it's back in the house with the young policeman, still wondering where Nola is, doing the whole walk through thing, alarm still blaring. He manages to turn off the alarm and I call the office to say you don't need to come, about then realizing that Nola can't come 'cuz I have the car keys. The cop says the alarm company reports the triggering to have taken place at the back patio door - no signs of attempted entry - reminds me again I shouldn't have come in the house. Bear in mind that this is a very quiet neighborhood and it's like a three-ring circus while all this is going on. Finally, cop leaves, I re-check all doors to be sure they are locked, talk to the birds for a minute to be sure they are calmed and OK (birds stress easily and can die from it), say good bye to the dogs who have calmed down nicely and head back to the office thinking it must be time to go home. Wrong. Barely noon. And, it kept up all day that way, ending with . . . Oh, never mind. It was not a good day.