persephone33: (redshoes on bookstack)
( May. 17th, 2011 01:32 pm)
Most of you know that I have two Labrador retrievers. We have Abbey the sweet, yellow lab, who is the newer addition. She was raised by some friends of ours but then by happenstance came to live with us only two years ago. Then we have Katie, the black lab, who Nolan brought home with him the first year we were married.

I love these dogs. You know how some people are nuts about their pets? I mean really, really crazy? Yeah, that's me. I love these girls like they were actual people. And funnily enough, one of them really doesn't know she's a dog, so it works out.

Today's blog was inspired by my three hour visit to the veterinarian. I noticed while sitting there, playing solitaire on my ipod, that nearly everyone in the waiting room either looked like or had characteristics similar to their dog. It was funny. I'm not going to lie, I giggled to myself several times.
In which Kate is annoyed by the other dogs... )
So I'm lying in bed on this cloudy Sunday morning, feeling vaguely guilty that I'm not at church. To atone, I'm going to tell you a story. We'll see how far that gets me with God. :)

Most of you know that I'm not what you might call an 'outdoorsy' person. I believe that nature is best viewed through a pane of glass, preferably with a adult-like fruity drink in hand. And you know that I'm sideways with dolphins, believe that bunnies are up to far more than everyone thinks, and find woodland creatures on the whole to be vile and abhorrent in every way.

It's a tale of girl vs. intruder: Carrie Style. )

I may not, though when Nolan comes back and finds that I've torn the crap out of Colin, the Sexy, Black Toyota Sequoia's running board by driving over a big ass decorative rock in the Rudy's parking lot.

It's been sort of a weekend.

But I'm pleased to announce that [ profile] goeungurl, [ profile] filia_umbrae, and [ profile] eustacia_vye are the winner's of last month's contest. You'll be receiving your Gap cards in the mail A.S.A.P. All of your stories are fabulous, and I intend to comment at length when I have a moment to do it properly.

Everyone enjoy the rest of your weekend. May it be raccoon and zombie-free.
persephone33: (redheaded pinup)
( Oct. 1st, 2010 08:25 am)
(Carrie and the children run through the morning routine, hair combing, breakfast eating, tooth brushing, and she explains the schedule for later in the day.)

Carrie. So when you get home from school, I'll have packed your bag and I'll take you out to Grandma's and Grandpa's house for the weekend.

Ethan. (Frowns) But Dad's gone.

Carrie. (has only had a sip of coffee at this point in the morning) Mmmhm.

Ethan. If dad's gone, then who'll protect you if the zombies attack? I'm in charge of that when he's gone.

Carrie. There's going to be a zombie attack this weekend? And you're in charge of what, exactly?

Ethan. There might be a zombie attack this weekend. And I'm in charge of shooting them. You don't know how to shoot a gun.

Carrie. And you do?

Ethan. I can figure it out. If you're not protected, they'll get you.

Aaron. (Munches on toast) Makes sense.

Carrie. (under breath) None of this makes sense.

Ethan. I'll stay, just in case.

Carrie. No, pumpkin, I'll be fine.

Ethan. (Frowns) Are you sure?

Carrie. (Wishes to God for having drunk more coffee before having this conversation) Yes. Katie and Abbey (the Labrador retrievers) are here. They'll protect me.

Ethan. Katie would, but Abbey will be worthless.

Aaron. (munches on toast) That's true.


Just another Friday at our house. )
persephone33: (the queen is not amused)
( Aug. 1st, 2010 09:58 am)
As the mother of two rambunctious little boys, I've become used to what I like to call "The Ick Factor" in my life. It's gone up by about a gazillion since Aaron was born, and even more so since they've developed their own personalities and spend so much time in the Out Of Doors*.

Now, I'm not talking about the mild stuff, like finding a plastic snake next to the milk in the refrigerator, left there, no doubt, to make me shriek. (It doesn't. It does make me laugh, though.) I'm talking about the stuff that makes me want to crawl into a fetal ball and rock after shivering and flailing with revolted abandon.

I spare you of some of this, friends. I don't tell you all of the awful truths.

You're welcome.

But this... this weekend's Ick involves a crustacean.

Buckle up, buttercups. This one's kind of long. )
persephone33: (Christmas naughty is the new nice)
( Dec. 4th, 2009 12:51 pm)
Image intensive with little or no important content. )
persephone33: (people like you)
( Jun. 11th, 2009 09:34 pm)
So we have a new addition to the family.

She's so sweet.
Dogs make you smile more. Did you know? True story. )

Edit: And don't forget to vote at [profile] dg_ldws! I dare you to guess which one is mine. You totally won't be able to, I'm so stealthy. ;)
persephone33: (C is for Carrie)
( Mar. 30th, 2009 10:24 am)
is the name of our family's black labrador retriever. She's really not even named for the Quidditch player in the Harry Potter novels, despite me being that much of a dork. We got Kate in early '99, and I didn't even read the first JK Rowling novel until June of 2000. We named her Katie Elizabeth. That's a mouthful. And I went to high school with a girl named Katie Bell. She was a few years older than me and had lots of charisma, outgoing, and was one of those people who, when you say their name, you say first and last. Katie Bell.

And so it stuck for the puppy. Who we've had longer than either of our kids. It's a toss up some days which one I love more.

She's really the best dog in the world. )
persephone33: (holding hands)
( Jan. 20th, 2009 11:06 am)
My in-laws are in Arizona for the week, and we're looking after their chocolate lab, Maggie. Maggie is the daughter of Katie and our departed yellow lab, Max. So, in essence, she's my granddog.

Yes, I realize I've gone off the deep end. But I love these dogs. (And people are a bit silly about their pets, aren't they?) Maggie is 6 1/2, and Kate is nearly eleven, so they're both laid back and groovy to hang out with.

....Until it's time to go for a walk. Man, there is NOTHING like being dragged through the neighborhood by a hundred and forty pounds of labrador retriever.

It's hard work to be a dog. )
Oh, dear heavens.

I'm working on day seven of sleep deprivation. If I've been weird or cranky this week, I'm gonna chalk it up to that. Married girls, do you know what I'm saying? It's really hard for me to go to sleep when hubs isn't there.

Now I realize that he sleeps more deeply that most people in comas, and that he starts a loud snore exactly 12 seconds after he turns out his light and his head hits the pillow (not an exaggeration, I've timed it), but there's something comforting about my big, dumb, blond Texan being in the bed next to me. Mostly, because I know when push comes to shove, that he could totally protect me from all enemies, foreign and domestic. But actually, it's habit. And the way my leg falls over his immediately, when we sleep is like, the BEST thing in the world..

Ahem. All mushiness aside, I've been getting offline about midnight, when no one is writing or I simply can't anymore, and then instead of sleeping, I go wandering around my house. I lay in bed and watch TV, do laundry, watch the lights of the Christmas tree... all manner of ridiculous things to be done in the wee hours of the morning. Last night, the last time I remember looking at the clock was around 1:15. And I thought, 'Oh, okay. Not bad. The boys might sleep til 7(*hysterical cackle*), and that's still decent.

Silly girl.

Maddening black lab story under here )
persephone33: (Default)
( Feb. 14th, 2008 08:22 am)

 So I've been running around like a madwoman lately, completely overwhelmed with getting things ready for the new house.  I try to get everything done while the kiddos are at school, but sometimes they have to tag along.

Let me preface by saying that it was really windy yesterday.  Really windy.  50 mph gusts.  We live on the high plains, and there's like, nothing to stop the wind.  (Like say, a mountain.  Or the odd tree here and there.)  Anyhow, I was hurrying Aaron along, and he was having trouble getting the door to the car open, because the wind was blowing against it.

Me.  Come on, come on, come on, child!  You're slower than molasses at Christmastime! (aren't my colloquialisms charming?)

Aaron.  Okay!  Places to see, people to do!

Me.  (corrects quickly)  SEE.  People to see.  Places to go.

Aaron.  I thought you saw places.  And did the people.

Me.  (under breath) Depends on who you are.  And who they are.  (To Aaron) Trust me on this one, kid.  Places to GO.  People to SEE.

Aaron.  (completely disinterested)  Okay.
And I'm completely with

[personal profile] jo_anne_stormon not spending a bazillion dollars on a sitter and dinner in a crowded restaurant for Valentine's day.  Give me take-out on the couch with a movie ANYDAY.

That is, if I survive Aaron's school Valentines party.  The Nazi room mother called me and I was instructed to bring fruit and juice, which is fine, but then she gave me step by step instructions on how to serve the friut, which included an email telling me to WASH THE FRUIT FIRST.  (Seriously.  Lady, this is not my first rodeo.  But still, I thought I'd leave the pesticides where they are.  Build up the kiddos' immune systems.)  She strongly recommended apples, grapes, pineapple, strawberries, and oranges (HA!  I used tangerines!  I'm a REBEL!)  The instructions also said to put the fruit on SKEWERS.  *cough*  Am I the only mother on the f-list that thinks giving a roomful of 5 & 6 year-olds skewers is a BAD IDEA?  Heck, I stabbed myself 20 times getting them ready.


We've been keeping the in-law's dog, Maggie, this week.

Happy Valentine's Day f-list!
 [more swearing]

Katie Bell (my dog) is sick.

I've known since New Year's Eve.  She's been... off.  But yesterday she satrted walking strangely.  Like sideways, with a limp.  And running into things.  Like walls.  Or me.  It looked like she was drunk, frankly.  So I took her to the vet today.  The took blood and they gave her a steroid, and 5 new medicines, and I got her new food, and $240.00 later, she's sleeping here next to me like she always does.  On February fourth, she'll be nine years old.  I get it, she's old, and I should start preparing myself mentally for when she won't be here.  But she's older that Ethan, you know?  She's my first baby.

*waits for the vet to call with test results*

Was it Hagrid that said that people can be stupid about their pets?  Yeah, well, he was right.

And the next time I post, it will not be a meme or whining; I've decided to post "Persephone's Dating Saga" or:  the story of how Carrie got through college and all of the nightmare male projects that she took on, ending with getting very lucky and marrying her husband, but not before she got propositioned by his first fiancee'.  Who was a girl.  

It's a good story.  Stay tuned.
persephone33: (Cheer up)
( Sep. 20th, 2007 09:16 am)
 So, I'm having one of those one in a million days, where I'm riddled with self doubt and insecurity.  What the HELL?  Guh.  I HATE me on these days.  I get all moody and aware of all of my flaws -physical and emotional- and spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about them.  GRRR.  Truly.  I need some good news.  Anyone have any they'd like to share?

Also, just spent a few moments with the skeezy dishwasher repair man (Hey, the dishwasher's fixed!  That's good news!) being uncomfortable while he made quasi-inappropriate comments directed towards my outfit (running shorts and my softball jersey t-shirt.) I know, some of you are thinking, Carrie?  Softball?  Surely you jest!  But it was only for one season, and it was my husband's company's team, so I kind of didn't have a choice. I breifly contemplated letting Katie the Wonder Dog in to rip him limb from limb, but I held myself in check.  But he was *holds fingers up* this close, man.  I swear.  

Aaaaand a very happy birthday to [profile] armymom08!  I hope that you get cake and presents, and everything else that your heart desires today!

It's also my hubby's birthday today, and he liked 4 of the 8 shirts I bought, and 1 of the 2 DVD sets I got him.  50%.  That's better than ever before, but I'd still have to say, "No, [profile] die_loreley, it doesn't get any easier to buy gifts."  He did like the chocolate, though.  Who says no to chocolate?  Well, except for me.  Anyway.  Carry on, everyone.

So fandom is going well, the ficexchange story has been through beta #1 and survived, and I finished recording the FIA June Podcast (angst fest of [DOOM]) and was even able to convert it to an mp3, with the help of [personal profile] mynuet.  Yay for people that undertand computers.  *thumps harddrive*  I'm listening to it now, to make sure it doesn't stink.

It's the last week of school, which means a lot of random strange stuff is going on, awards assemblies, last day parties, and the play my class wrote last year, Ambrosia, Peanut Butter, Kool-Aid and Enchiladas, a Story of the Teenaged Gods of Ancient Greece, is being performed tomorrow night, so YAY.  LOVE seeing my work onstage.  Love it.

Last day of Playwrighting is tonight, and as we are finished with both plays, we're meeting at a coffee shop and discussing next years prospects.  Good times.

My eldest turns 7 on Friday.  Gah.  Am old.  (But I was a child bride.)

We are *da da dummmm* going to my husband's family's reunion on Thursday evening; where the women are snarky, there's more meat than you can shake a stick at, and croquet is a bloodsport.  The boys and I will be at the pool, if anyone calls.  My sweet friend Jason is house sitting for us and feeding Katie Bell, who hurt her foot yesterday chasing behind the boys' go-kart.  The dog does NOT know when to say when.


Apparently $140 dollars worth.  I swear, the Katie goes to the vet more often that the rest of us go to the doctor.  But she's almost 9 years old, we've had her longer than either one of the kids, and to be honest, she doesn't KNOW she's a dog.  

She's a spoiled rotten brat princess with a horrible ear infection, but I lurrrve her.

There was a guy with a bull mastiff at the vet this morning.  It was the size of a Shetland Pony, maybe a little bigger.  230 lbs!  Makes Kate (at 64 lbs) seem tiny.  It didn't stop her from growling at him, even though he could've eaten her for a mid morning snack!



persephone33: (Default)


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