And all these things...

So, we can now add to the joys of having a canine pet the following:

1. taking the dog out for business in the rain
2. rupturing blood vessels when the dog attemps business on the carpet
3. discovering that the entire bag of tennis balls has been liberated all over the living room (instead of the one tennis ball she was given)
4. taking the dog out for business in the rain, again
5. rupturing blood vessels when the dog climbs on the kitchen counter to watch you leave

But other than these, she's a pretty good dog. She sits, she shakes. She waits patiently while being towelled off after a rainy business run. She sleeps through the night (but has doggy dreams, if you're awake to hear it). She does not chew on clothing or furniture. She does not dig through the trash can. So far, so good.

Title Of Post

So strange...my buddy Sarah is off to Navy boot camp now. She's gone! They would have shipped to Great Lakes yesterday, brining my new total of "friends I have who are in the military" to, oh, a lot. And I don't count the ones I meet through Joe.

Happy Ash Wednesday.

In the news...

NEW YORK — Milwaukee Archbishop Timothy M. Dolan, a defender of Roman Catholic orthodoxy who led an elite seminary for U.S. priests and became known for his energy, wit and warmth, was named archbishop of New York on Monday.

The Vatican said Dolan would succeed Cardinal Edward Egan, 76, who is retiring as archbishop after nearly nine years. The post is the most prominent in the American Catholic Church. Pope John Paul II called the job "archbishop of the capital of the world."

The New York archdiocese is the second-largest in the U.S., behind the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, serving 2.5 million parishioners in nearly 400 churches.

It covers a region from Manhattan to the Catskill mountains, and includes a vast network of 10 colleges and universities, hundreds of schools and social service agencies, and nine hospitals that treat about a million people annually.

Dolan's selection continues a chain of Irish-American bishops that was broken only once in the history of the archdiocese, when French-born prelate John Dubois was appointed in 1826.

Economic Stimulus

Well, the newest additions of my family—by far the most interesting so far—arrived today. Fanny and Freddie are now happily installed in the better part of my kitchen, gleaming in the stovelight. Each greets me with a happy little tune when turned on, and each has a multiplicity of settings (no plush toy setting—I have not reached such a stage of housewifery as yet) to choose from. My favorite is the washer. I can put it on spin setting slow, medium, high, or NASA. The dryer came equipped with a rack that fits inside the barrel, upon which I may lay delicate items which enjoy the tanning light and gentle warmth without all that tumbling about.

I also added yet another furniture item to the household, this time what I cannot quite describe. I think it’s a dresser. With two shelves, and two drawers at the bottom where a third shelf would be, and a top as if to serve as a nightstand. It’s being used as an all-of-the-above, so my guesses cannot go wrong.

Nothing else interesting going on…this computer (poor little 4-year-old brains) has been having a series of cerebral hernias throughout the evening. I can only run one program at a time, and even that is pushing it. Snug does not like the new washer at all. It doesn’t make a consistent set of noises like a regular washer—it fills, then buzzes, then fills some more, then turns, the turns the other way. And the high speed spin must make a noise that only he can hear, because he goes bonkers on me. He got away this afternoon and I couldn’t find him anywhere. Eventually, I thought to look upstairs, and he had gotten into the attic and was sleeping at the far edge of the insulation, right above the bedroom heating register. There was some yelling and screaming and wiping off of cat with damp cloth. Grrr.

Little family...

Well, the house is filling up. Cat is here, Lola has been visiting, and Lt. Chicago has been here for dinner three different nights now--the poor fellow is quite lonely down here. Funny, how the boring married people (you know, the ones who don't go out to clubs or bars) are the ones that all the wild, single, stallions visit with all the time. :)

Had a nice weekend on the beach with visiting family, and then yesterday I joined the ranks of the really boring and really married and bought a washing machine and dryer. Hopefully my stories won't be as nuts at T's. But, we did go out and buy the things, for better or for worse, and they're being delivered on Thursday. This means, of course, that I must clean my kitchen before then.

The felicity of unbounded domesticity

I have not the pirates' enthusiasm on this one...I'm worn out. Day seven in the house, day three with all the stuff moved into it, and if I see one more box, bag, lid, crate, bin, newspaper sheet, hamper, tape roll, or sock, I'm going to go nutty.

Speaking of nutty (or seedy?), take a look at my friend:

He's got no fear of me whatsoever. I stand right inside the kitchen door and talk to him all day long, bang dishes, breathe threats and murder, and as long as that screen stays shut, he munches with impugnity. I realize, of course, that by putting birdseed out for him to eat, I am enabling him, but so be it. He's fun to watch...he eats the seeds in a very organized fashion, until the last few seeds are practially a single-file semicircle left on the patio. This way, I suppose, he doesn't accidentally miss one.

In other news, I have finished (for the time being) working on "my" room. The computer is set up, the printer is in place, the bookshelves are stocked, the craft boxes are in their best array...it's nice. This way, I can get stamps and scissors out all over the place without incapacitating our ability to eat at the kitchen table. (I can still hear the squirrel out there munching.) One's ability to entertain guests is severely hampered, after all, by the presence of crafting material upon the one and only table top in the house.

Who is Fidelio, anyway?

Well, I could just send you to the Wiki article, but that wouldn't be classy. Instead, I'll tell you that Fidelio is the name of a character from Beethoven's one and only opera - her girl name is Leonore, and she pretends to be a man named Fidelio when she sneaks into a prison to try and save her husband.


When I picked the name as a blogger ID, it was actually part of an inside joke. People had a hard time figuring out who I was online (i.e. they never suspected that such brilliant discourse could come forth from such as I) and so I added to the mix by using a masculine name as my online name. Hee hee.

I'm talkin' with my mouth!

Okay, so maybe the rennovated blog is a little moto...I thought the picture in the sidebar would be smaller.

I've got what Big Daddy called the Big Eye - can't sleep. I know, it's almost 0700 and I probably shouldn't be sleeping anyway. But still, I'm the only one awake, there's not much to do in the house until I have someone bigger and stronger to help me, and if I wake him up too soon he'll be cranky. Must wait.

My Little Yellow House

There it is! That's mah mayun walking up the sidewalk toward the front door (which is invisible in this picture). It's a stealth door.