Dog Momma Duties

My biological clock is ticking so loudly that I can hardly hear myself think, so of course, I did what any 27 year old baby wanting human would do, and adopted two sweet sister puppies. They are smart and spoiled and trouble and bark and chew and dig and I ADORE them. They eat my cactus, shred my paper (see below), chase butterflies, pull each other's tails, sleep ON TOP of each other, and I wouldn't trade one single second. They may not have stopped the ticking clock, but they've quieted it a little, and they make their mommy smile.

Bunny Flowers

Larkspur = Bunny Flowers

Look closely, see the bunny in the middle? My paternal grandmother, my Didi, had a whole garden full. She was amazing. An accomplished painter, gardener, and sweet sweet soul. When I was three, my Didi & Grandad gave me a huge pink stuffed bunny. I can remember them sitting it on the sofa, and all the adults watching to see my reaction. I was unsure if it was actually for me, and trying to make my three year old brain have the self restraint to not grab her and make a run for it. I spent weeks trying to come up with a name suitable for such a grand possession, only to finally realize there wasn't one. Her name would be "Bunny". That same year, my Daddy brought home a real bunny, she was white with pink eyes, and her name was Foo Foo. Foo Foo didn't last long, but my love for bunnies did, so when Didi took me by the hand one spring day, and showed me the bunny inside her funny purple flower, I was in awe.

Didi got sick, very sick, very fast, but Grandad would push her chair out into her garden so she could sit and instruct him on how to keep it. I would sidle up beside her so she could tell me which ones to pick for her bedside. She passed in the fall, too young and too soon. Grandad did his best to keep the house, and the garden exactly how she'd left it, but time turned the flowers to weeds, and the ivy took over mercilessly like a garden dictator. Twenty years later, every spring, I turn back into that seven year old, crouched over what was once my Didi's garden, waiting for the first sprouts of Larkspur. Spring still comes through all the dead of winter, and so do the bunny flowers.

This year, for the first time, I'll have bunny flowers of my own, planted in little vintage wooden planters that my Didi would have loved.

Faith vs. Insanity

I've written on faith before, but I had a clarifying moment this morning while watering my garden. I'm not sure if I clarified faith, or insanity...most likely a little bit of both. I realized as I was watering my empty, brown dirt that gardening from seeds is the perfect exercise in faith (or insanity). Every day, twice a day, I drag the hose over, turn it on, and water empty planters, with the faith that one day Ill see tiny little green sprouts. Some days I have doubts, and fight the urge to dig down a little to see if anything is cooking, but most days I just water, hum a little, and expect that one day soon my patience, perseverance, and faith will pay off with a yield from my garden.

P.S. I also realize that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result....

Life Questions...

*creeeak....blows dust off*

Goodness, it's been awhile. Thankfully, my schedule has finally given up the fight and let me win. I went from working basically all day, seven days a week, to now a normal work week. IT IS AWESOME! Im feeling more productive, *and* more creative, which makes for a happy, happy me.

I also have a few life questions I've been pondering. Maybe you can help me out here.

1. How is it possible for two puppies to make SO MUCH POOP?

2. How can gooey delicious lemon cupcakes be hard enough to cause blunt force trauma?

3. If I have so much time now, why did I have to wear damp panties to yoga this morning because there were not any clean *and* dry pairs?

4. How can I always manage to step on the *one* squeaky dog toy when I get up in the night to pee?

5. How on earth did I mistake trout for salmon? (and why the hell didnt I just take it back?)

6. How have I gone 27 years without "Douchecanoe" in my vocabulary?

I promise I have more important things to write/tell, but not tonight. Had to get back in the saddle somehow, right?

Kitchen Insecurities

Well, Ive come to the conclusion that I should not be a housewife. (not that I ever REALLY thought I could be)

It's been a hard month food wise at my house. My dear friend Bonnie (see post below) is Martha-Freaking-Stewart, and I began to feel bad about my lack of domesticity. Soooooo I decided it was high time for me to put my oven mitts to use and start creating some wonderful meals. Unfortunately, my kitchen knowledge is scarce, AT BEST, so there are always lots of "Googles". For example "how to hard boil eggs", "how to tell when pasta is ready", etc.

Problem number one= My oven doesn't work.

While I HAVE mastered the art of Crescent Rolls on the grill, there are just some things you can't "cook out".

Problem number two = My Work Schedule

I work from 8am-5pm and 6pm-10pm daily, except for the weekends, which I only work 6pm-10pm. This doesn't leave much time for gourmet cooking....

Problems #1 & 2 lead me to one conclusion. A Crock Pot.

So off to the store I went for said Crock Pot, and some groceries to put in it. I decided to break in the Crock Pot with some good old fashioned Chicken Noodle soup. I mean HOW HARD CAN IT BE?! So I got what Google told me I needed, but had NO idea how to go about cooking and chopping a whole chicken, so I cheated and went with good ole Pilgrims Pride chicken breasts.

My thinking, "I can cook the cut up chicken breasts in some broth overnight, then add the veggies in the morning, and Ill have some kick ass chicken noodle soup by lunchtime!" What really happened, skip to about 3:13 am, "Oh holy hell, I cannot stand the smell of that chicken cooking for one more SECOND!!!" Even the dogs were nauseated. So up I got to put the chicken and the Crock Pot on the back porch for the remainder of the night, and smear some Vicks under my nose so I didn't vomit.

Needless to say, chicken noodle soup was the LAST THING IN THE WORLD I wanted the next day, so Mr. Chicken got a nice burial at sea down my toilet.

Lesson number one= Do your cookin during the day, preferably with open windows.

So two weeks go by, I have stopped cursing at the Crock Pot, and decide to give porkchops a try. The night before I set out the chops to thaw, and then the next morning put all my ingredients in the Crock Pot and got her going. There they were, ready and waiting for their Pork Chops to jump in, when I realized I had set out two giant steaks to thaw the night before....

Two Years and One Friend Later...

Well, it only took me two and a half years here in El Paso to make a friend, that either says a lot about my work schedule, or my personality...

I started doing yoga for the first time at a studio fairly close to my house in April-ish, and quickly discovered it kept me from being as neurotic as usual, and kept going! It was the most "normal", and I use that word VERY loosely, social setting I had been in since moving from Weatherberry, and I had forgotten how much I needed that kind of outlet.

One day, after I'd been going a month or so, we did a "partner stretch", and since the "partners" needed to be roughly the same height (yeah, good luck with that in El Paso), I got paired with a girl on the complete other side of the room, named Bonnie. Now, I had seen Bonnie several times, and we had said "hi & bye" in class, but never had the chance to talk.

Turns out, Bonnie was a bit socially starved too! A high power accountant, and recent transport from MANHATTAN...yes, New York City, to El Paso, TX...talk about a culture shock! She also went from Mrs. Career woman, to Mrs. Stay At Home Mommy of 8 month old Jacob. Whoa! I just thought I wanted to slit my wrists with a butter knife....

So once we were introduced, in the form of trying to "gumbify" each other in partner stretch, our first conversation went sorta like this.

Bonnie: "Hi, my name's Bonnie"
Kristen: "Hi, my name's Kristen"
Both Together: "Wanna be my friend?" (not really, but basically)

So here we are, five months later, and causing lots of trouble. Our most recent adventure was "de-algaeing" Bonnie's pool (which I COMPLETELY got suckered into). See, Mrs. Bonnie has contacts, therefore, she wasnt about to don on the goggles and go down with the wire brush. I was good with that part, minus the fact that I kept floating up in the middle of my scrubbing. Bonnie, so lovingly placed her hoof in the middle of my back on the pool floor to "help" me stay down there (true confessions, but only because she will most likely read this, I DID ask her to push with her HAND to help me, but evidently, the foot worked better). Part two of the algae cleaning involved rubbing a chlorine tablet along the bottom of the pool floor to kill any remaining algae I didnt get with the brush. "The pool guy told me to be sure and NOT handle the chlorine, he said socks work good". So at some point, while holding my breath at the bottom of my friend's pool, wearing her gym socks on my hands, and rubbing poisonous chemicals on the plaster three inches from my face, I realized that we MUST be true friends. (of course, at this point, when it all became incredibly funny to me, I came up spouting and laughing uncontrollably, to point this out to my sweet friend Bonnie).

Good friends are hard to find, and I'm glad I found this one.
(even if she did try to drown me)

Stolen Moments

We have flower pots outside the front door of both clinics. (Granted the Anthony one is CHAINED to the wall, but that's beside the point) They make everything look nicer, especially this time of year when the flowers are so bright and colorful. We change them out periodically, as they need it, to keep them looking fresh, but sometimes get a little "help" from our patients who like them just a little too much. 

One day Amy was removing the deceased, or nearly dead flowers in order to make room for new ones, and a woman waiting in her car for someone in the pharmacy called out (in Spanish) "Hey! Why are you throwing out those flowers?" Amy says (Again in Spanish), "Oh Seniora, they're dead and we're getting new ones." The woman replied, "No, I take flowers from here all the time, and they do very well.."