When Harley met Polly

Polly said, "rar rar rar rar rar!" So Harley did what most males do--wondered what in the world she was going on about.

A couple Sundays ago, we brought home a playmate, friend and sister for Harley. Her name is Polly. It's funny to see the differences between them when Harley was just a pup. He was calm yet playful, very quiet, and a slow learner. Polly is definitely a girl with something to say about everything, ready to attack Harley at every corner, and she's a quick study. She's already obeying the "go potty" command (and she's only 7 weeks). She gets the idea of "no," however she's a diva; obedience comes with an attitude.

Harley tolerates his baths and at times, when the water is just right, he seems to enjoy it. He doesn't love the hair dryer, but he lays there and "takes it like a man."

Polly has had two baths since we've had her and she becomes cat-like. On the bath side of it, she becomes stiff and all Frankenstein-ish. And yes, she thinks she can tell me the what-for. She hates the hair dryer and claws at me to escape. After a while, she decides playing the pitiful puppy will work and she starts to whimper. When it doesn't work, she lets out sharp yells like she's being endlessly abused or something. All I can think is: DRAMA QUEEN!

At times the two play rough together where once again she gets vocal. Harley can get aggravated with her get a little aggressive--I guess even dogs can build steam and explode! Still, other times I turn around to see precious things like this:

And when Harley gets in trouble for playing too rough with her, she comforts him.

The two have the same father but different mothers. They may look completely different and have two completely different personalities, but I think I've found a common gene in them...

 

With Harley being well trained already, it's made Polly's training a little easier. For example, when I say, "Let's go outside!" Harley knows what it means and immediately heads for the door. Polly is constantly at his heels, so she comes running too. It's been two weeks, so now when I say, "Let's go outside!" Polly is the first to go running to the door! I wasn't sure what to expect in training another puppy, but I gotta say, it's kinda nice. :)

In 6 Days...

When Harley woke me up this morning with a bark, I hopped out of bed and stopped. Wait a minute. No dizzy spell? 

Rewind.

Wednesday morning, the alarm sounds at 4:00. I pry my crusty eyes open, reach for the clock. My body hurts. Back to sleep. Harley barks. I slip out of bed. Steady myself. Take Harley out to potty. Crash on the couch. Harley jumps on the couch and sticks his face in mine--and I don't care. Sam comes out in his robe.

Day 1: The Flu.

"I think I'm dying," says I.
Sam grunts. He must think he's dying too.

We sleep more.

Sam reminded me of a post on google+ that had a kick-the-flu-quick recipe.

Recipe: 6 squeezed lemons, 2 tbsp honey, 3 cups pineapple juice, 1 bulb garlic, 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper, 2 tsp ginger powder (blended together). A cup every few hours and you'll have the flu licked!

I made a quick run to Food Lion for the ingredients I lacked, then made the wonder-juice. I took two gulps and I was hurling over the pot. Sam managed to kick back a whole glass with no side effects--except aftertaste. He never braved another cup.

Day 2: Sore throat and fever.

Just when I didn't think the flu could get any worse, Thursday morning I woke up to the addition of a sore throat.

The "fever check" has always been a hand to the head. So when I was reminded that I actually have a thermometer, I got a little excited about being able to check my temperature. It was 103.

It was a sad, miserable day. I called our minister for anointing. He said I didn't sound like myself--I'm sure he meant to say I sounded like Sam.

I called our 68 year old neighbor lady who suddenly disappeared two months ago, but this time, she actually picked up the phone.

"I finally had surgery," she said. Hip surgery.

"Well Pam," says I, "you can only imagine what we thought when we saw them carrying your mattress out the door!"

"Yes, I can't do without my mattress," says she.

Day 3: Immobility.

Still sick, weak and miserable, whether I was really able to walk or not, I played the more pitiful role and crawled my way to the pantry to get Harley his food. I sat on the floor exhausted. Once his bowls were refilled, I crawled back to the living room and sunk myself into the couch. Harley thought it was a game and as always, assumed his character: playful friend.

Day 4: Scotch.

By this point, sabbath had arrived and we were zombies.

Someone mentioned "scotch" to me a couple different times--all in jest. But perhaps because of my delirious state, I suddenly thought taking a swig might help. So I did. Wrong. Once again, I assumed my position at the toilet bowl.

It was not a happy Sabbath.

Day 5: Chicken noodle soup and Daffodils.

The day is Sunday and Sam gets a call from his boss saying that they're bringing over some home-made chicken noodle soup for us. They live an hour away. What special people!

(Sam finds two more of Harley's teeth).

The soup arrived along side a vase of daffodils--now sitting atop our tuneless piano.

The soup was delicious! Harley ate the portions that fell down my chin and onto to my lap. He loved it too.

After five days, I lost 13 pounds.

Day 6, here we are, Monday, and I'm feeling "better." Not 100%. Everything is still settled in my chest where it reaches up to tug on my tonsils and swing on my bobber-wobble, making me cough every 5 minutes.

What does it mean when you reach to position your glasses better on your nose, and as your finger meets skin you realize you're not wearing your glasses? Just happened.

We can only go up from here!

Can't Shake the Comma

English Major here. Now, I don't remember when it started, but there's been a rule out for sometime now that in a sequence of events (three or more), you don't have to add that extra comma before the word "and." For example:

 

I couldn't believe she walked, talked and smelled like a man!

 

While I think that's great and all, I just can't seem to shake the comma! But then I've noticed that I've been adding commas everywhere in my writing. I'm one to write like I speak. I speak not only dramatically, but I usually digress with extra little tid-bits that aren't always necessary, but are deemed interesting enough to add them. It's something I catch every now and then, but just haven't gotten too serious enough about to give myself some harsh criticism. I add comas as I pause in thought. Though, I also use the "dot, dot, dot." But...perhaps, when, it, starts, looking, like, this...I'll, do, something, about, it...

In other news, my little 5 month old has lost two teeth already. Surprise, surprise! Apparently, his breed goes through a lot of teeth in their life. The first one I found by stepping on it--in my socks. The second one, Harley seemed to realize that something just fell out of his mouth as he investigated and played with it. TMI? Get a dog!



You try brushing a dog's teeth. It's not easy.

Recently, whether my vision is getting worse or not, it's starting to bother me that I can't see certain things. Movies aren't as interesting to me because they're not clear. I get nervous driving in new territory because I can't read the signs till I get close enough to them. I'm almost sure that my vision didn't just all-of-a-sudden "go bad." Foolish child I was--I had encouraged bad eyes. Why? I actually wanted glasses. Didn't the kids with glasses get teased with names like "four-eyes" or "nerd?"

Perhaps I was into fashion-forward thinking, supposing they looked hip. Or maybe I just wanted to look more like Dad or Anna. Well, for whatever reason, if only I were so lucky to get glasses! I used to wear Anna's old, round, pink frames with no lenses. Believe me: very cool. Though, not satisfied with "play" glasses, the logical thing, then, was to pretend I couldn't see so I could get my very own glasses (with lenses). Making sure my "bad vision" was known, I walked right up to the clock, face to face, and read aloud the time, or bumped into a wall and said, "oh my! I didn't see that wall there!" It was supposed to render comments like, "oh wow Sarah, your eyes are bad. We should get you some glasses." But after my ridiculous, numerous, failing attempts to prove that my good eyes were bad, I gave up. However, I'm convinced all that has finally caught up to me--only now, (you guessed it!), I don't want glasses. I think I got my first pair of glasses when I was about 15, and I wore them a lot. I eventually switched to contacts. Once I started having problems with those, I went "cold turkey"--though I'm not sure that expression applies. :) But like I say, I've gotten tired of not being able to see. So, as of last week:

 

 

New glasses! Besides the pink, round, lensless frames, these are the biggest I've had. Come to find out, "you're supposed to get your eyes checked once a year" she told me. Posh! I said, "I'll see you in five years!" :)

 

And finally, something I'm coming to appreciate more in life are attitudes like this one:  



 

Happy trails!

Melting

Yesterday, out of the blue, Sam said, "We'll go to the store sometime soon and get you a new dress for the winter." What have I done to deserve such a loving husband who wants to give me the world?

Not that the world is a new dress, LOL.

But, "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks." And so, when things like this happen, whether it's "I want you to have a new dress" or "I want to splurge on you with hugs and kisses!"--anything that includes me in his life--I melt. A random, "I've been thinking about you".....oh, there I go....

I'm melllllllllllltiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!!

Food For Thought

Recently, I actually bought a REAL book--one I could hold in my hand and flip from page to page, fold the ears down, circle words and paragraphs and scribble my own little notes in the margins. The book is called "Created to be His Help Meet." Here are several teasers from it you can mull over as food for thought:

>A woman trying to function like a man is as ridiculous as a man trying to be like a woman. A unisex society is a senseless society--a society dangerously out of order.

>If God created a special woman, perfectly suited to be your husband's helper, would you be that woman?

>It is not a question of whether or not you can do a better job than he, it's a matter of doing what you were "designed" to do. It is far better that the job [leading the family] be done poorly by your husband than to be done well by you.

>Who and what you are is reflected in your face. Does your husband see you as a happy thankful woman?

>Discontentment is not a product of circumstances; it is the state of the soul.

>There are basically three types of men: Mr. Command, Mr. Visionary, and Mr. Steady.

>Chapter 10: Reactions Define You

>A man cannot cherish a strong woman who expresses her displeasure of him. ... Do you want your husband to be forced to seek supernatural power just to find a way to love you?

>A man will allow his woman many, many, many faults as long as he knows that she thinks he is great.

>A wise woman patterns her life after her husband's. His working, playing, eating, and sleeping habits become hers.

>Her ambition was personal, spiritual fulfillment, which is the most selfish drive that can possess a person and the easiest to justify, humanly speaking.

>Women who seek higher spirituality end up feeling and acting spiritually superior to their husbands...and it is a death knell to a healthy marriage relationship. Spend that "desired" spiritual time with your husband, where real growth and maturity with God will be found.

>God says a woman who lacks discretion is like a jewel in a pig's nose.

>It will not be enough for you to just force yourself into silence and start surrendering your will. It is time for you to start practicing reverence toward your husband.

>We want the Bible to be strictly our guide, but there is always a danger of reading something into it to suit our personal sense of propriety.

>When a woman resists or tries to change a man, she makes him more stubborn, and her own heart will be filled with bitterness.

>A woman's greatest power is in obeying God through obeying and honoring her husband.

>You cannot become his conscience or his accuser, expecting that pressure is going to push him into repentance.

>Don't confuse sympathy with encouragement. If you feel sorry for his hurt feelings and sympathize with him, you will only add fuel to his emotional fire.

>Get off the phone, lay down romance novels, turn off the TV, stay off the web, reduce outside visits or women's classes, and focus on putting your time into what your husband is doing.

>He only needs his woman to pour her life into his, for him to pour his soul back into hers.

>Three things that can break a man's spirit and cripple a marriage: 1) A wife who is spiritually critical, 2) A discontented wife, and 3) A wife who is not fulfilling...Titus 2:3-5.

I've done it again....

...left you all hanging for a while. I think it's pretty obvious by now that I'm a lousy blogger. Guess you'll just have to take what you can get from me. :)

So, what's been going on?....Because of my neglect, now I have to sift through my short term memory (which often fails me) to give a boring list-style summation of what's been going on.

Not that the only thing worth posting about is Harley, but as of recently, it always seems the most eventful thing. But, since the last post was completely devoted to him, I'll let a picture and a few brief words be his only part in this post:

Growing like a weed. New nicknames: "Little Ewok" and "Charlie"...though he doesn't respond to either. Potty training is going well. He must really like the treats he's getting. ;-)

Moving on....

I've got this "audio books" app on my phone--things have become so convenience-oriented--where I downloaded this book called "Think and Grow Rich." From the title of the book and from chapter one, I was fooled into thinking I found a treasure here, but somewhere in chapter 2, I quit and UN-downloaded it. Here are a few things I took from chapter 1:

>Opportunity comes most often in the form of misfortune.

>One of the most common reasons for failure is the habit of quitting.

>If you would have held on a moment longer, you would have succeeded.

>Success comes to those who are success-conscious. Failure comes to those who indifferently allow themselves to become failure-conscious.

>Thought habits: What you habitually think about is what you are.

>"I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul" (Henley). You have the power to control your
thoughts.

>Our brains become magnetized with the dominating thoughts we hold.

To my disappointment, however, the following chapter talked about how you must be obsessed with money in order to obtain it. Phooey. I took the title "Think and Grow Rich" to be talking about growing rich in thought, and therefore in character, but it turns out, it's really talking about material wealth. Nothing wrong with material wealth, but to make it an obsession is fruitless and is a misdirected goal. I could have overlooked Chapter 2, and given it another chance with Chapter 3 but the disappointment was too great. And so, the book is gone, and has since been replaced with a biography on Lincoln.

Did I mention that Sam has started school? Well he has! He's taking a class on sales management. After High School, he went straight into the workforce and has excelled tremendously without the college experience. But he's excited that he's been given the opportunity, and he seems to be enjoying it!

Sam's first day of school.

 

On to the weather: it's been cold, rainy, warm, chilly, windy, calm, sunny, icy, and then rainy again...did I leave anything out? 

 

We're looking forward to having a garden this year--last year was our land rest. We don't really have a convenient location for a garden--the year before proved that--but we'll try again anyways. The only produce we got were the habaneros that I had mistaken for regular bell peppers--quite the surprise--but I was able to make some jars of salsa with them, so it wasn't a total loss. This year, with a year of experience under our belt, we'll make a few adjustments, including some pots on the back porch for our tomatoes. They need more sun than our shady little spot-of-a-garden. Previously, the tomatoes have been snitched by some squirly creatures in our forested back yard, so I'm still not sure what we'll do about them, but Sam will think of something. *wink*

And here's a new houseplant I potted just last week to go along with our lonely money tree.

I know I said only the one picture and mention of Harley, but I just had to post this picture from today. Harley and I have been walking up and down our road where he usually finds treasures to sneak into the house (of course, since Mama is sneakier than him, he can never remember where he put his treasures), and today, his delicious find was a plain old stick that he carried for our entire walk!

 

 

That's it's for now. I'll make an effort to improve my bloggery.... 

The Dog

It's been too long since I've sat down to give an update of things. But here I am, and once again, it's time to play catch-up. In my last post, I mentioned Harley--the dog. So let's start with him:

In the words of Sam, "he has such a great personality!" He can be cheeky and stubborn at times, but I'm learning consistency is a pretty big key. And the thing I've been most adamant and consistent about is taking him "outside" to "go potty!" Up until a week ago, I thought he would never be housebroken. (It doesn't help that we talked to a guy with a 7 yr old Yorkie-poo that, even with training, STILL goes potty in the house. Yeah, that's a bit discouraging.) We've had him for two months now and just when I thought he was learning that "potty" + "outside" = "treat," I find him squatting briefly, and then running from me--before I can even react. You'd think he did it on purpose....

                                

However, the past couple days have given me hope once more. I was in the middle of making bread (there's never a "convenient" time for having to go potty), when I suddenly realized that I couldn't hear him tumbling around on the floor behind me. With dough still stuck to my hands, I looked under the table, down the hall, behind the curtains, and finally found him sitting upright, ears perked, in front of the door. As I approached, he looked at me. "Do you have to go outside?" He answered with a swish-swish of his tail. Taking him outside, we got to the grass where I told him, "go potty" and HE WENT! Baby steps!
 

And I'm learning that giving commands is MUCH needed.

I've watched a lot of videos on this and have had a few people tell me that even if you didn't give the command, and the dog goes potty outside, "yes you should praise him for it, that way he'll keep doing it." Sounds good and everything, but in this scenario, he's associating the action of going potty with a reward. Good? No, it's a problem, because at any random time--usually in the house--he'll remember "when I went potty, I got a treat!" and he'll squat in hopes to get a treat. But I want him to associate the command with the reward. So I've only praised him when I make the command--which I try not to let him go potty without me giving the command. "Set your dog up for success!" they say. I definitely agree with the positive training method. Positive results come from positive training.

 

As I said in a previous post, my schedule of life has changed. No more sleeping in till 5; no more exercising in the morning, or vacuuming, dusting, doing laundry, or ironing on certain days. I have a new, temporary-and-subject-to-change, weekly schedule. One day, I was making a salad and couldn't seem to find the cucumber I had just cut into a few days before. I found it the next day stored in the tupperware cabinet. And I can't ever seem to keep up with my dish towels--one minute, I have them over my shoulder, the next minute, they're gone! Throughout the week, I find them here and there where I must've temporarily placed them as I raced to stop Harley from biting on the furniture, etc, etc. He keeps me on my toes, as every day is a new adventure where our agenda's don't always agree.