He was a stinky dog, a smelly dog, an overly friendly dog. He was a happy dog, a barking dog who never saw reason to listen.
The poor old boy came to an end this morning, helping feed like he usually does. He had been growing deaf in the last year and I think that was the problem. As he writhed on the ground joyously rolling in something smelly he failed to hear the payloader backing towards him. That was it quick and painless, his last thoughts happy ones.
Daisy will miss him the most I think, although I am surprised at how sad I feel at his passing. He was a vile and disgusting dog who swam in the sewer and rolled in any thing dead. He was fully intact and liked to back up at you huge pink parts swinging.
He was patient and kind. Tolerant of small children’s poking and pulling. He loved it really often knocking them down in his enthusiasm. Not a mean bone in his body, he would never have dreamed of biting. He put up with Daisy and her endless energy. She loved to bounce around him snarling and biting. He was her best friend and companion. He loved to run circles around the four wheeler barking like an idiot. Faithful and loyal he slept on his masters doorstep scorning his roomy dog house. Always present never helpful. We will miss you Zip, much to our surprise.
It happened one night as we sat enjoying a quiet family meal. The sweet young child lay upon her daddies shoulder as we finished eating. Cuteness was simply oozing from her. Then into the silence erupted a racket. A gurgling, squirting sort of racket. Now we are quite proud of her many crude noise making talents but this was above and beyond. Soon the stench reached our noses and not long after a damp brown spot appeared on the back that had previously been so lovingly stroked.
Leaping into action her father, holding her in extended arms made a mad dash for the bath room. As I followed behind in a much more leisurely manner I heard exclamations and curses echoing down the stairs. I don’t believe I quite caught every thing but it seemed to be some thing along the line of “How can such a small child create such a large amount of…. mess?”
And so she received an impromptu bath. The first one for her poor father and under such trying circumstances.
It’s been a long time since I posted anything, at least partially because we have been working feverishly on the nursery. And now it’s almost done! This is so exciting. Especially for those of us trying to live, with a baby, in a construction zone. We have baby stuff, tools and dust spread through out the house. It will be nice to be able to clean, dust and baby stuff up from around the house and be done with it. Every nook and cranny is filled with things waiting to go into the nursery we can’t even get into our beloved library. Some times I wonder how it’s all going to fit.
My parents came clear out here for a weekend and fixed the ceiling. Dad fixed the ceiling, mom babysat. He tore down all the old plaster and put up dry wall. He taped and sanded and even got it painted before they had to leave. We couldn’t have done it with out them and it’s so nice to have that done but it would also have been nice to gotten to visit and maybe go ridding with mom. I’m not complaining though because it’s almost done!
The walls are patched and painted, the beautiful wood floors are varnished, all we have left to do is paint and install the quarter round on the base board and the same with the crown molding. We have all ready dug the crib out of it’s box. Not so much putting it together yet, but ready to.
Once upon a time far far away in a land not so very different from our own a girl child was born to a sweet and gentle couple. They welcomed her with love and good will. She was a beautiful and docile child with a full head of hair and good temper. Unfortunately she had to stay at the hospital for a period and her parents were forced to be away from her. This was a time of great suffering through out the land.
Freshly hatched
During this separation she came to be noticed by the goblin king. His wife had recently hatched a girl goblin child. Everybody knows goblin children are hatched from pumpkins. He was growing tired from being up all night, growing mold from the constant damp of being spat up on and quite deaf from her ear splitting howls. He gazed covetously upon this angelic human child. Until finally he could stand it no more. His minions were sent creeping and crawling one dark night to switch the babies. The goblin child was barely able to be kept quiet long enough for the midnight exchange, as soon as they set her down almost before they escaped out the window bearing their little sweet heart, she let out a wail.
The nurses came running in a panic so unused were they to any trouble with this particular child. Now the goblin king had cast a glamor over his little hellion so she could pass as human, the nurses were unable to tell any difference. They worried and fretted over how to explain the sudden change to the unsuspecting parents.
“Surely she will have stopped crying by the time they arrive” the nurses all agreed. For that day was the day her parents were coming to take her home.
Shrieks echoed through out the halls as the parents arrived to bring the little darling home.
“Oh I do pity the parents of that baby” they said nodding wisely at each other. They had become a little smug.
Late that night with their ears aching and a touch of mildew beginning in their creases they attempted to prepare for bed. The darling infant would drift off to sleep in their loving arms only to jerk awake screaming. They oohed and awed over the little pumpkin. “She just needs time to
adjust to her new home,” one crooned. “She’s darling even when she cries” cooed the other.
A week later and still awake, with the mildew blossoming into a lush carpet of green, they found themselves discovering new tricks their little darling had in store. Huddling under the blankets they hid in bed arguing over who would be the next to brave the child.
A creature of the night
” I went last and she nearly gummed my fingers off.” the formerly lovely wife declared. “It’s your turn to feed her.”
“No no dear” the husband managed with some aplomb “I do believe that you drifted off to sleep momentarily whence I took it upon my self to venture forth and feed the,” here he paused searching for the proper description, “sweet
infant.” He coughed nearly choking on the words and wondering quietly to where one could return babies.
It was a weak argument as they both knew that sleep was not to be had. The formerly gallant husband returned dripping and quite haggard. Having grown tired of watering her mold gardens she had decided to wet down the rest of the house as well as her father and thus introduced projectile vomit. This was much more efficient allowing her to cover many things at once with her fragrant spray.
“But she smiled at me so sweetly when she had finished.” He added to the telling of his story with bemused wonder.
As she grew she developed skills that should have marked her as a goblin child if her disguise had not concealed so well, and lack of sleep not
She would eat the most inappropriate things
blinded her parents eyes. She liked to eat the most inappropriate things and her strength
Her version of crawling
and intelligence far out distanced normal children of the human verity. She began crawling almost immediately. Her version of crawling at least. She could skid across a room on her face pushing with her hind feet. Of course had she been human they would have simply been legs.
They grew proud of this little changeling. Exclaiming in joy as she growled and snorted before honing in on an object to clamp down on it with gums of steal. Prideful of the way she scaled them as though they were mountains gnawing any flesh she could reach on the way. They learned to burp her at arms length preferably over the bath tub and appreciate a little mold. Sleep returned with judicious use of ear plugs. She wore her stuffed animals thread bare with her chewing and her parents took joy in her enthusiasm.
“Oh look at the little sweetling, she has such spirit!” The proud mother would cry.
“Yes, and such good aim.” The gloating father would respond gripping his throbbing nose. And so she growled and clawed her way into their harts. They pitied all those poor parents with sweet well behaved babies.
Fall is my favorite time of year. I love fall leaves and pumpkins, golden rustling corn fields and cool crisp mornings.
Ok, mostly I just love pumpkins. I hauled them by the ton over to the house and gave them away to anyone who would take one. It makes me sad to see the poor pumpkins still left alone and unloved sitting in the garden. I had tons of fun decorating pumpkins even if I didn’t carve any this year so…..
Lets play “Wheres Waldo” with pumpkins! Can you find: 6 Babies (same baby 6 times), 3 Mice, 5 Bats, 1 Owl, 5 smiley faces, 1 Spider web with a smattering of spiders, 1 Horse Head, 2 Scaredy cats, 1 Witch on a broom, A murder of Crows and bonus points for the second scare crow and farm scene.
Some days just are that way. The wind was howling and they couldn’t combine. The uncombined corn blew over and/or off of the stalks. We ran to Chadron for groceries. Elly fussed the whole time so we gave her a bottle, but no burping, which quieted her but I think precipitated the next small issue.
Her dad always gives her her bed time bottle leaving me time to relax and get other things done. Tonight was no different. They giggled and talked and tried to get her medicine down. With as much milk as possible hoping for a long time between feeds. We all sat on the couch together looking forward to sleep. The day and the wind were winding down. I flipped through a magazine as he sat her up in his lap to burp her.
A loud shouting, which may or may not have involved a lot of cursing, interrupted my peaceful reverie. I turned to see my husband blocking the last of a stream of vomit with the burp cloth as he held sweet little Elly at arms length. His bare chest glistened with milk and the dripping globules of a cottage cheese like substance that makes up the content of her stomach. With a gasp of horror I looked beyond him to the end table. His phone, the remotes, all three of them, magazines, including the one he had just bought, and the case for his lap top were all covered.
Other then the sheer volume it took to cover that much surface area he had been holding her with her head to the center of the couch. She had projected for a good two or three feet. I grabbed a few more burp cloths and took the, baby?, and we began clean up. The table, the couch, the floor and the blanket had all been coated in the slimy stuff. My quilt that we keep on the couch is sturdy but aging I don’t think it is going to stand up to this baby stuff. The couch it’s self will surly need replaced by the time this is over.
I will never need to worry about him beating little Elly, if he was able to refrain from tossing her in the shock and horror of that little incident nothing else should ever try his temper. I wonder though is this a baby that we have or did goblins steal the real Elly and leave us one of theirs?
If by any chance you should ever come to visit us, don’t sit on the couch.
My grandma sent Elly a box full of beautiful girly things, cute shoes, head bands, clothes, and a sheep. The sheep is a cross between cute and creepy. I’m still not sure if I like it or am scared of it. It is just under a foot tall and takes batteries. To make it’s head bobble?
I set it down in front of Elly the other day as she laid on the floor enjoying a little time out of her crib.
She stared at it in wonder and gently wove her fingers through its long curly hair. Next thing I knew she had pulled it over and was batting at its foot. Now it’s her favorite thing to cuddle and play with.
Remember? The horse thing was another story? Get it? Ha ha.
So they let me bring my horse along sometimes. I enjoy it quite a bit. My stomach seems to be holding together even through some of our wilder moments so it’s all good.
I was stationed at the highway while they (the four-wheeler guys) went to get the cows. They would bring them out of the pasture and down the section line. I would stop the leaders and wait for them all to bunch then help guide them across the highway onto the proper path. I got a call asking if I could maybe come hold a gate that didn’t have any gate to it. So Coyote and I headed east over the hill to see if we could help.
Over the hill I saw that not only did the gate not have much gate, The fences down one side didn’t have much fence to them. The wire and posts were there just not in an upright position. I called asking where I would be able to assist taking the fence issue into account. During this conversation I stepped Coyote to the side of the road and let him graze a little, he needs more food. I was told not to worry about it after all they had every thing under control. I watched the cows take off into a neighboring field then hung up the phone and turned Coyote to walk off in one smooth motion. Only it wasn’t smooth. Coyote took a step and halted jerkily. He was then willing to go again but I stopped him and looked down. I had ridden him right into a coil of barb wire. One of the fences that weren’t was strung into the road. I persuaded him that his first instinct had been correct and we really should stay stopped as I quickly dismounted to try to get this figured out. Not only were my favorite ponies legs tangled in barb wire we would shortly be blocking the path of the on coming cattle with corn fields on both sides and once again no fences.
Coyote held still while I stepped onto one of the loops. When I asked him to take a step forward he lifted his leg high and neatly untangled him self. I love my pony. Many horses would have panicked at the entanglement but he was as calm as ever in his crazed way. We were able to finish moving the cows and upon closer inspection he came away with only a couple of nicks on his legs.
