Want to See What I'm Saying?

I cannot believe I'm doing this. I like hiding behind my words. But this just sounded like so much fun, I couldn't help but participate. At least you'll get a laugh out of the deal.

And you know what laughter is?

The social glue.


By the way, if you're clicking over from 2nd Cup of Coffee and want to know what the cashier letter I referred to is, click here.



I See What You're Saying from Carrie Evans on Vimeo.

Thanks and come again.

A Legacy of Faithfulness

My grandpa left his earthly body last night and went home to Jesus. He was ready. We were all ready. But even when you know someone is about to punch you in the gut, it's still a punch in the gut and nothing can really prepare you for it. Not even other people's deaths. Not when the someone was a champion among men.

My mom set me to the task of finding some old photos (of which I am the keeper of) to give my uncles so they can make the slideshow for his funeral later this week. As I looked through them, when the tears would subside for me to see clearly, it really hit home what an amazing legacy he is leaving all the people that knew him.

And since most of you reading didn't know him, I thought I would share some of that with you.

My grandpa was born in 1924. He lived a long and full life. Five children called him Daddy or Pop.

He married his high school sweetheart before they even left teenage-hood. And against all odds, they stayed married until my grandmother died 12 years ago. I miss her so much the tears still come as I type this.

I'm told he was a good guy, full of life, but he definitely wasn't a saint. After several years of marriage he began a battle with alcoholism. My mother tells me he was always a good dad, just absorbed in his own stuff.

I'm not sure of the year, but I know there was a point where God began to soften his heart and open his eyes spiritually. He made a decision to trust Jesus with the rest of his life and live to serve his Creator.

That decision changed everything. He became a man on fire for God, telling everyone he met about his Savior and how He had transformed his heart from a selfish one to one that longed to serve and live in grace.

He never touched another drink to his dying day.

My grandpa was my first father figure. My mother had me at the tender age of fifteen and so she could finish school, my grandparents helped her raise me for the first three years of my life. When she married for the first time, we moved to Seattle and through the years I've been told that he always said me leaving him was like having one of his arms ripped off.

That's me up there with him in the garden. I'm sure he instilled that love of the natural world to me early on. I'm pretty sure it was from him that I got my creative abilities and the mad skill of figuring stuff out.

This was 1994: the year of my high school graduation. He usually made that face when he was contemplative. He was pretty worried about me this day. I had just begun my journey into the occult and new age beliefs. It was around this time that he pulled me aside and earnestly looked me in the eyes and said, "Carrie, whatever you do, don't sell Jesus down the river." His way of saying, "Don't go so far into the hole that you forget your savior."

Well, I did go all the way to the bottom of that hole, but I knew where to come back to when I had reached the end of myself. To Jesus and to Grandma and Grandpa to celebrate. And celebrate we did.

I'm not sure, but I might come by my zaniness honestly too.

Grandpa's been ready to join his wife in heaven since she died 12 years ago. He's never really been the same. It's been sad to watch him withdraw and miss her so badly. But if you knew her, you'd know why. My heart is at peace knowing that he has entered his reward and can finally touch the face of his Lord. I think that was the one thing he lived for the most.

And each time someone close to me makes the journey to eternity, a little piece of my heart goes there as well. Each time a loved one passes on, I can see them in Glory, in my mind's eye, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is a real place.

There's a lot I could say about that ornery old man. There are countless stories I could recount. But really his legacy is one of faithfulness. To his wife, his children, his grandchildren, his great grandchildren, and mostly his God.

I hope to finish this race as well someday.

Station Break: I might do this if...

I was just alerted to a super cool thing happening on Sept. 30. And while I am scared to death for you to see me on video talking, I'm tempted to do it anyway because I LURVE seeing everyone else doing it. Go check this out and maybe this would be a good time to do a little Q & A session. Not that I'm sooooo interesting and all that, but it's worth a shot.

Any questions? Hmmm?

Just a Thought for the Weekend

Well, I do.

And I hope you do too.

Got Cranky Gremlins?

If you've got cranky gremlins...

then maybe you need some watermelon.

All the cool gremlins are eating it.

(thanks for bringing it over Rachel!)

Camping For Dummies

It's official. We are the camp out pariahs. As much as I'd like to think I'm all outdoorsy and stuff, the truth of the matter is that while I like BEING outdoors, it's an entirely different animal to LIVE outdoors. Even if it is for just one night.

I don't think it has to be hard. But we had a couple of strikes against us right from the start. Join me as I illustrate some things that don't really work while camping, and a few things that do.

#1 Try and set up camp before dark. Putting together a borrowed tent that you've never put up by lantern isn't so much fun.

#2 Along with the setting up in the dark, finding firewood by flashlight would be just as much fun. Lighter fluid would've been handy also. But you should know that 1 hour and 23 minutes after getting the wood, we finally started that puppy. Unfortunately, I have to buy Jackelope a new sketchbook now. You figure out why.

But hey! The gremlins enjoyed their nice hot shmoes. That's all that matters in the end.

#3 Staying up late taking night shots does not guarantee the ability to fall asleep in a tent stuffed with 4 gremlins, 2 dogs and a very cold man.

#4 Morning is better enjoyed when you've slept on an air mattress. Not that I would know, but I'm totally bringing one next time.

#5 The baby leash may look cute and seem like a good idea, but if your baby doesn't like it, he will scream bloody murder at 5 in the A.M. when you try to keep him from falling into the fire or running off toward the lake.... in the dark.

#6 E6 was a good spot after all. If you're ever in Kansas, I'd recommend this spot.

#7 You might think that reminding your gremlins 57 times before you left to bring plenty of warm clothing is sufficient, and you would be wrong. Pack their warm clothes for them or they will make that face all morning.

#8 I'm just going to reiterate the whole air mattress thing here. And perhaps bringing the playpen would've been a good move on my part. Otherwise, you might gain a few more wrinkles overnight.

#9 No matter how much your husband insists on bringing the dogs, refuse. Trick him and leave without them if you have to. That's what I'm doing next time. While you work your butt off, they will have too much fun. And they will whine when the world is quiet in the middle of the night. I don't find that very amusing. Maybe you don't either.

#10 I just need to repeat myself here. Don't bring the dogs. Enough said.

#11 A brilliant idea for breakfast is toaster pastries. I won't call them Pop Tarts here because ours were the knock off from Aldi. Obviously they were good. Brand names are overrated. Or is is because everything tastes better when you're camping?

#12 If your gremlins are not enjoying those toaster pastries, maybe it's because they need an air mattress and a sleeping pill to ensure they sleep a whole 8 hours.

#13 Even if your campsite has adequate restrooms, complete with toilet tissue, bring some. I brought 2 rolls, and I'll be darned if we didn't use it. Firstly, I didn't want to walk even the short distance in the middle of the night. I found a very nice shaded tree where the very bright moonlight didn't shine. My apologies to any campers up at 2 a.m. who saw me anyway.

Aside from that, toilet paper bunched up makes very good kindling when you are unprepared to make a fire the right way. Apparently it's fun for the whole family.

#14 Even if things are stressed and hard, and you feel like camping was the worst idea ever, be patient. There will be a few moments for good photos. Put the baby in the tent for a long nap and run away. You'll be glad you did.

for more shots from our campout, check out my photostream

Station Break: Stromboli Addendum

It was just brought to my attention (thanks, Juliana) that I had a very important typo on the google document containing the stromboli recipe. It originally said 4 cups of water and it's supposed to be 2. My abject apologies to any of you who pulled their hair out trying this recipe!

I feel like an idiot.

However, what do you really expect with 4 gremlins biting at my ankles while I type?

Here's the edited recipe: Pepperoni Stromboli

Wordless Wednesday: Hair Gel and Camping?

You might think camping is an excuse to forget about the hair gel for a couple days. But if you're like Charlie and can't even fathom the thought, then scroll through the following wordless tutorial to learn just how to apply the super gel without a mirror in the rough.

















(oops! How'd that one get on here? ;P)

more wordlessessssesss here

Golden

We had a rough night camping. I'll get to all the comical details in a couple of days. Suffice it to say that it was probably the worst night's sleep I've ever had in my entire life. Infant stages included.

But I tried to make the best of my 5 A.M. start to the day by telling myself that at least I could get sunrise shots.

Yeah. That didn't go so well either. At 5 A.M. it was still very dark and the moon shone bright and high in the sky. I woke Charlie to confirm that I had not read the phone clock wrong in my sleep deprived state.

As I spent the next hour and a half chasing a very cranky toddler around the soaking wet grass in the dark, I wondered what the heck was up with this sunrise business. How am I supposed to know when sunrise happens?

I set my tripod up and as the other gremlins emerged from the tent way too early for their own good, I bustled around trying to find the pop tarts and wrangling The Cuteness. I got nervous and more than irritated that I couldn't even enjoy a proper sunrise sitting on my rump in the gravel behind my camera. Instead I had to deal with it like everything else these days: multitasking and spread too thin. And feeling like I can't enjoy the simplest things because too many people need me at once.

In the end, none of my coveted sunrise shots turned out. I had my several of my settings wrong and the moisture and fog had made it's way in between my UV filter and my lens. Stupid fog.

Now that I think about it, that photo represents how I felt that morning. Blurred, cold and foggy. So I muddled through the next hour and gave up my desire for good photos. I was fed up. I threw up my mental hands and declared defeat.

Then I looked over and saw this.

And I almost started weeping right there. At some point the sunlight burned through the haze.

Golden morning sun washed over this dew covered field with the gentle light of heaven. For a moment, time and craziness stopped, I wasn't interrupted and God blessed my eyes with the kind of visual feast that I so needed.

I guess sometimes I look too hard and expect too little. I wanted to be awed by a sunrise, but God wanted to give me gold.

Now I'm Turtley Enough For the Turtle Club!!

Jackelope found a turtle last night out mighty close to our busy street. So we rescued him.



And I thought it would be fun to observe him for a day. Turns out, we might keep him longer since we don't live in the woods and it would actually be dangerous for him to wander out into the busy road.



Yeah, that's pee on the sidewalk. Don't judge him. If you had three giganto gremlins and their mom coming after you and making all manner of noise and excitement, I'd wager that a little something might leak out of you, too.



We made a habitat for him in a rubbermaid tub, since that's what someone on the web suggested. Even though we reinforced the sides with tall cardboard, he's spent the day fixating on escape. Hmmm. I think I can relate...spend the day eating and plotting my escape? Sounds familiar. I have to interject here that in my professional opinion, turtles have THE cutest legs in the universe. Yes, even cuter than gremlin legs. There, I said it.



I totally make that face when I'm fixating. Charlie thinks it cute and scary all at the same time.



This is what happens when he tries too hard to escape. I'm starting to see some startling similarities between me and this reptile.



We're both kind of hard on the outside and soft and squishy on the inside. We both like meat and veggies. We both fixate. I'm not sure what the gremlins want to call him yet. I like Mortimer. Is that because I've heard it somewhere? Not sure. We ended up cleaning out a rather large wide tub and moved him in there. He's a tricky little guy.

Either way, he reminds me of that character Dana Carvey played on Master of Disguise. That phrase from the following clip keeps playing over and over in my head.

Guess I'm turtley enough for the turtle club now!

Pepperoni Stromboli: with Bacon of course!

You might be tempted to ask: What the heck is a stromboli? Basically, it's a pizza rolled up into a great big sandwich. If that sounds like something you want to ingest, then keep reading.

That photo looks like an advertisment for Aldi. Obviously we do a lot of our shopping there. Don't judge. You're going to need that stuff and the stuff you can't see; like cornmeal (optional), spaghetti sauce, a baking sheet and an appetite. For a complete list of ingredients and measurements, I've made a google document that you can print out. It's here.

For now, I'm just going to cover the basic steps with some well-timed photography. Join me or starve.

Let me just say here that a kitchen aid is a huge help in this recipe. I used to make bread products without it and honestly I'm not sure how I survived. But you don't have to have one. No biggie. We're not even going to knead the dough. As with any recipe for bread dough, the water needs to be warm. Really warm. But not so hot it will burn you. Unless you're a sissy.

Add the yeast. I use the kind in the jar, but whatever. If you buy the packages 4 1/2 tsp would be 2 packages.

Go ahead and add in the sugar and salt. Let it bubble and get all disgusting looking. It should be disgusting enough in about 5 minutes.

Let's discuss the oil factor again. You can use vegetable oil if that's all you have. But for the love of Mike, do yourself a favor and get some olive oil. It's worth the expense and your arteries will thank you when they get all flushed out and whatnot.

See how's it all bubbly? That's good. Real good.

Time for the flour. Don't be chucking the whole amount of flour in there like some kind of spaz, ok? Start with 2 cups. Flour is a fickle chap and will turn on you if you don't handle it like the delicate baby he is.

When it looks like this, you're getting close. You'll want to continue to add 1/2 cup of flour at a time, then mix. See down at the bottom of the bowl where the dough is sticking big time? That means you need a little more flour.

Now see how it's starting to let go a bit? That means don't add any more flour or your dough will be stiff.

By this point you might be tempted to think this is way too much work. If you are, then go sit in the corner. You need a time out. Once you taste this stuff, you'll be glad you put forth the effort. Once that dough is mixed, roll it out onto a floured surface into a large rectangle about the size of your baking sheet. And before you transfer your big dough rectangle to the baking sheet, there's one step I didn't get a photo of due to gremlins busting my chops. Get some cornmeal and sprinkle it on the baking sheet after you spray it down with cooking spray. The cornmeal makes a really nice texture on the bottom of the crust.

You don't have to have it though. It's not that big of a deal. Just a nice touch.

Once you've put your dough on the sheet, it's time to doctor it up with goodness. Spread the spaghetti sauce down the middle in a big strip. Not all the way to the edges like pizza. Then sprinkle cheese and pepperoni's. It really doesn't matter which order with those two. And lastly, BACON BITS! Use the real ones. If you have to ask why, I don't think we can be friends anymore.

I made this for years without bacon and let me tell you, I always had a strange hole inside me that I just couldn't fill with anything else. A bacon shaped hole. Now I feel complete.

Turn the ends up over the filling.

Then turn the sides up over that and pinch all the edges closed. You don't want any of that goodness leaking out.

On the top, drizzle olive oil and sprinkle bacon bits and oregano into the oil. Oh my.

Throw that puppy into the oven at 375 for about 30 minutes. This is the tricky part. Sometimes it won't take that long. You have to be checking on it like a sneaky toddler that gets too quiet.

Set your timer for 20 minutes and when the whole thing is nice and brown, it's probably ready.

Despite your best efforts, some of the cheese will escape. But it's ok. You can eat those little globs when no one is looking. They're the best.

You don't want it any more brown than this.

See how the cornmeal attaches to the sides and bottom? It's lovely.

When you cut it open down the middle, it should look like this. If by chance the cheese is not melted, don't freak out. There is NO freaking out with stromboli. Just slide the two sides back together and stick it back in the oven for 5 or 10 minutes. I've done it a lot.

This is where you decide if you want to call anyone else in to eat with you. Personally, I could eat way too much of this stuff. I'm limiting my white carbs these days because I find I can go a little nutso with the bread. But every once in awhile, you just need some white carbs. Because maybe it's been a bad day or you're trying to put yourself in a coma.

One night of stromboli will actually do you a lot of good.

for a printable recipe: go here
email me with questions and let me know how it goes!

p.s. there is an alternate way to make this with the frozen bread dough. You would just thaw it out all day, then roll it out like it says up there. But I never have that stuff around because I make my own dough a lot cheaper and simpler. I felt it was only fair to let you in on that bit of information.

Now go forth and conquer.

**entry for 5 Minutes For Mom Food Fun Contest!

You Can Also Find Cheese In Kansas

Wisconsin isn't the only place that has cheese. And since I'm way too tired to write anything, perhaps you'll forgive me if I just post some cheese.

p.s. And speaking of cheese, I have another food tutorial in the works. All I'm going to say is it involves pepperoni's and perhaps more bacon. Stay tuned or starve to death. Your choice, as always.

Out of Focus

Do you ever have that experience where you're staring at something and then your eyes get lazy and stop focusing for a minute? And while you're in that weird out-of-focus zone, you start thinking weird thoughts about Oompa Loompas and what ever possessed you to tight roll your jeans in the early 90's?

No? Well I don't either. I was just wondering.

But I do think that life is prettier sometimes when it's out of focus.

Sk8 or Photoshop?

Socrates is not a professional skater. He just likes playing around.



Kind of like me and Photoshop Elements. I'm just playing around.



But man is it some FUN playing around.



I love hobbies that satisfy my need for immediate gratification.

P.S. If you have Elements and want to know what these filters are called so you can have fun, let me know. I'm happy to share what itty bitty bit of knowledge I have about the subject.

P.P.S check out my flickr photostream. I have tons of photos on there that will never make it to this blog.

Frying Up Some Heaven

I'm not much of a food blogger, but I'm all for making this blog as random as possible in spite of all the sage advice from "expert bloggers" that one's blog should have a theme. Well, to them I say, "I have a theme. It's wrangling. Mostly gremlins, but sometimes food needs wrangling."

And speaking of wrangling food, what do you do when you are sick of homegrown tomatoes? It happens. Since I am not a die hard tomato lover, there comes a point in the growing season that I've had enough. Then I start to pawn them off on whoever will take them.

Then I remember that one recipe I get the pleasure of making once a year. Fried Green Tomatoes. You either love them or hate them. As a youngster, I hated them. Now? Oh my.

And I wanted to share that goodness with you. Just in case you love them. Or think you might. So if you have any tomatoes growing out in the yard, go grab some firm green ones. Or if you have a neighbor growing some, go take them. But wait until it's dark because they might have a bow staff with your name on it.

Better yet, just ask permission. And let's discover how to get this little piece of heaven to fry nice and golden in our skillets!

I'm going to assume you are literate, unless you're my sister, Kristi and only come here to look at my pictures. (Hi Kristi) Just joking. She knows how to read, she just refuses to. Anyway, this recipe is super easy, so I won't go into mind numbing detail on every step. Just take a peek at it and follow along. I used this one.

Besides green tomatoes, you'll need some other random stuff. It's on the recipe. And yes, you have to have colorful plates for each ingredient. A CD of bluegrass or Lynrd Skynrd is also helpful for that Southern mood while you cook.

If you're in a hurry, remember that after you slice these, they need to be sprinkled with salt and pepper. Then they need to sit for 15 minutes. The purpose is so they can sweat. Mmmm, sweaty tomatoes.

While those are sweating to the oldies, I want to reveal my secret ingredient. It's not on the recipe that I linked to. What goes better with tomatoes than bacon, I want to know? Genius.

Ok, now we've got some sweaty tomatoes. Don't be grossed out by this. All that will fry out.

Then you're going to take each slice through the steps per the recipe. Milk first.

Then flour.

Then eggs.

Then bread crumbs. Or corn meal. Whatever.

Then fry them. IN OLIVE OIL. If you want to eat a lot of these relatively guilt free, use olive oil. Not shortening or even vegetable oil. Olive oil is good for you! And while the first side fries, sprinkle your bacon bits on the top so that when the uncooked side gets kind of mushy, they will adhere to the breading.

Then when you flip them over, that whole side will be brown and bacony. Oh my goodness. Bacon!

When they're done, they should look like this.

And you have to eat them right away! No reheating allowed or recommended. Let me know how it goes if you give this a try. But hurry. Green tomatoes are not around for much longer!

P.S. Did you like my food tutorial? I can do more. It was fun! Or should I just stick to wrangling gremlins? Be honest. I can take it. But watch your back.

Wordless Wednesday: Travelling Light

Can I just add that I had to wait a sweet forever for a car to drive down my street to get these shots? Well, I did and I think it was worth it. A fun experiment!

for more WW go here

Colors: I Can't Pick a Favorite and You Can't Make Me

I always hated those surveys that went around in school demanding that you picked your favorite stuff, so other kids could fit you in certain categories and whatnot. Stupid surveys. I refused to be categorized even back then. Except I was a little insecure about it and it stressed me out a bit when one week I put red as my favorite color and then felt obligated to put it down the next time so I wouldn't confuse people.

Now I'm thirty something and I don't really stress out about stuff like that. I refuse to pick a favorite color.

Although purple would be a top runner for sure.




Especially purple next to fuschia.



And then there's blue. Who doesn't love blue. My wedding was periwinkle. Not only do I love blue, but I love the word periwinkle.



I also love steam color. That misty foggy white you see on hot food or when the clouds lie low. Or when you crank up your smoke machine because you want to feel spooky while you fold the laundry. Steam can be a color. Don't argue with me.



Ah, green. And red. Do you know why red and green look good together sometimes? They are complimentary colors. You don't want to overdo complimentary colors. Think those Christmas displays that are so gaudy you want to barf. That's overkill. But with a subtle touch, they are really pretty. And when you paint and you mix the two, they make a pretty green or red toned gray for shadows and stuff.



Black and white. Of course, I like black and white. Classy and simple.

I like classy and simple.

Caterpillar Invasion

This is a caterpillar.

Pointing out the obvious, I know, but it's current home is on my baby apple tree. I looked out my window one day and it hit me that the leaves were all gone and they had not fallen to the ground.
They were just gone.


So I did what every good mother does and sent the gremlins out to investigate.


They came screaming in the house that the tree was covered in caterpillars.

Since they exaggerate, I was not alarmed.

I figured it was only a few or five.



Maybe a small cluster of them.



What I didn't expect was an alien invasion of the multi legged kind.



So many that if they were fruit, I would have enough for a pie.



And it's a good thing that my tree doesn't make fruit yet. Because I'm pretty sure it would be disgusting.


I hope they have a swell time partying it up out there. Because if they kill my hope for apples in the future, I'm going ninja on them.



The Cuteness wants some apples some day, too.

p.s. I'm fairly certain that these are yellow necked caterpillars. They turn into moths that look like body builders. If they stay on the tree and make cocoons, I'll be sure to photograph the process for the 2 people that care about such things. Visit my photostream to see more shots of them. And it's really cool to see them close-up. Just click on the photo, then choose "all sizes" and view the largest one.

Blue Jean Baby

That title reminds me a bit of that Elton John song that goes, "blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band..."

Which has nothing at all to do with this shot. But it popped in my head and sometimes I think you should know about the things that pop in my head. If only to share in the insanity.

10 points for the person who can name the title to that song. I can't seem to remember right now.

He Prefers the Floor

You can see how the transition to the toddler bed is going for The Cuteness. If I ever happen upon him before he wakes, I find him here. And not in his bed.

Ok. Occasionally he's in the bed. But not very often. I feel bad for the guy. He got booted out of his bed earlier than he should've been. (long story)

I hope he'll eventually get it. You'd think after three other gremlins going through this process, I'd remember these things.

But I don't. Because my brain is Swiss Cheese. I can barely remember how to pluck my chin hairs in the right order much less things concerning gremlin bed habits.

I've Got Your Back When It Comes To Wonkiness

Look. I like to fancy myself an expert in all things wonky and wacky. After hanging out with these gremlins for several years now, I haven't come across everything just yet, but I've had some experience with a few things.

So in order for my wrangling to have a purpose, I feel that I must pass on these nuggets of wisdom to others.

Here's something you might not have known. Brace yourself.

The medical field doesn't always know everything. That's right. I said it.

If your gremlin's eyeball swells up like this:

You might transport him immediately to the hospital for examination. It's a little freakish and you'd be concerned for his vision in the future.

Once the ER sends you to the eye doctor next door and you get the report that it's only viral pink eye, you might be tempted to relax a bit and prop your feet up and scarf down bon bons, all the while resting in the vast knowledge of the medical profession.

There might be some niggling in the back of your mind that none of your other gremlins ever contracted the dreaded eye virus from the infected one, but the year gets away from you and you quickly forget.

Until the very same week on the calendar...the following year.

Poor little Jackelope. This is exactly what happened to only one of his eyes last year at this same exact time. About a week ago he started sneezing and sneezing and complaining of his eyes hurting. Then one morning in the span of an hour or less, they ballooned up like this.

Misery. I doped him up with Benedryl and Claritin. Then I ran out. And I made the decision that this was not pink eye, but rather an extreme reaction to seasonal allergies floating about making certain people miserable. So I bought him some over the counter Zyrtec and he is doing much better.

If I had the money, I would take him to get his eyes checked just to be sure his tear ducts are working. But I don't right at the moment. So I will do what I do best and play doctor and administer the medications I deem necessary to help my little gremlin cope with one more annoyance to his little body.

Jackelope seems to get the short end of the stick sometimes. But you know? He can do some wild and wacky stuff with that stick. And I think he'll get through it all right.

And if you are of the medical profession, no offense. I happen to have a fantastic family doctor and respect her opinion 100%.

He's Gone Too Far

Remember when I said the Pee Pee Monster was a Master of Deception And Sneakiness? Yeah. Thanks to him I've been without my trusty laptop for almost 2 days. We're not just talking internet, folks. Nothing. Zip. Nada.

This monster chews stuff. And not just normal puppy chewing. I was feeling very prideful a few months back when I never saw him chewing shoes or toys. Then we found his stash. He likes to roll with it under the bed. One day we happened upon the biggest pile of chewed up trash known to man under our bed.

My shoes, my underclothes, meat wrappers, stuffed animals, loofahs shredded to oblivion, monitos, dirty diapers, smelly socks, paper towels, and on it goes.

What a jerk. So when I got off work the other night, I called home. Charlie said, "You might want to pick up some electrical tape before you leave."

I said, "Why? For your broken glasses?"

"No. Webster chewed through the laptop cord and there were sparks everywhere."

I couldn't respond at that point due to the elevated blood pressures in my arteries. I imagined heinous things involving blunt instruments.

So the tape didn't work and I had to converse with some foreign employees at HP central at midnight Kansas time to buy a cord I just bought back in January. Good times were not had by all. Not even the foreign HP order takers since they had to deal with the very American Doh Doh Brain making them repeat every other word out of their mouth and explaining 456 times that the dog chewed through the cord.

Why do they even care how it happened? Do they think I'm buying a cord every month to take over the world? Don't think so. That's not my M.O.

And lest you wonder why my laptop has no battery power, it's not because Webster chewed it too. No, it's 4 years old and has approximately 15 minutes of power left on it; a little known fact apparently since Charlie left it running for the entire 15 minutes after the spark incident.

And to think....I paid $75 for Webster and $75 for this cord, again. Somehow that doesn't seem like an even trade.