Your dog died, will that be cash, check, or charge?

It's been a while in coming, but as I predicted, Rubik died yesterday. (No, I didn't predict the day, just the upcoming event in general). He died in the kennel, which is kind of a mixed blessing. On one hand, I didn't get to see him one more time and he died in a lonely, foreign place, but on the other hand, I was spared having to find him and figuring out what to do with him. Their general manager, Brian called me and let me know; he said he'd seen Ru just the day before and he was happy and running around, then the next morning, he just didn't wake up. I was glad to get the news from Brian, though. He's been there for eons, and even though I've had my issues with the kennel in general, it's always beein in relation to policies and pricing, never with personnel.

We went in today to 'take care of his affairs' (settle the bill and decide what to do with his remains). They initially treated us like a family member had died, but once they realized we were okay, we even laughed a little bit. I thinked them for keeping the flag at half-mast on Ru's behalf (never mind Gerald Ford that was all for Rubik!) Kinda wish they'd said they'd eat the cost of kenneling him for the week prior to his...departure, but hey...I guess they've got a business to run. And they didn't charge us for the day he...um...didn't use.

Of course we'll miss him, but he was 10. He's up in doggie heaven, eating a big fat turkey that he got out of a trash-can. And know what...nobody yelled at him for taking it.

Delicious breakfasty-toast!

Granny Herrmann (Nick's mom's mom) made this delicious recipe. I liked it so much I thought I'd share. It's a lot of work, but Granny swears that kneading the dough is "very satisfying". I don't know about that, but eating it sure was!!! It's yummy warm with coffee, or toasted with butter. Deeee-licious.

Ethiopian Honey Spice Bread (makes 2 loaves)

4 1/2 to 5 cups flower (divided)
2 packages of yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 tablespoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup honey
1/4 cup butter or margarine
1 egg

In large mixing bowl combine:
2 c . flour, yeast, salt, coriander, cinnamon, and cloves.
Mix well.

In saucepan, heat milk, water, honey, and butter until warm (120 - 130 degrees). Butter does not need to melt. Add this to flour mixture.

Add egg and blend at low speed until moistened, then increase to
medium speed and beat another 3 mins. Then. by hand, gradually stir
in remaining flour to make a firm dough.

Knead on floured surface 'till smooth and elastic (about 5 min.)

Place in greased bowl, turning to grease top of dough.
Cover and let rise in warm place until light and doubled. About 1 1/2 hours.

Punch down dough. Divide into 2 parts. Shape into round balls and
place in greased 1lb coffee cans, greased cookie sheet, or into
greased loaf-pans. Cover and let rise in warm place until light and
doubled; about 30 mins.

Bake at 375 for 30-35 min. until golden brown. Remove from baking
container, brush with butter if desired and cool.

Connor has officially survived his frirst haircut. He was sure it was going to be his undoing, but he pulled through like a trooper. We took him to Nick's barber, Jeff. He had a customer when we got there, so Connor got a chance to watch someone else getting his hair cut, and watch Jeff moving around and talking. He was having a ball until he realized that the booster seat in the chair was for him! Thankfully, Jeff was great with him; he just did his thing despite the fact that Connor was wailing like mad. I'm sure it helped, because ultimately, he realized: 1) the haircut wasn't stopping and more importantly, 2) the haircut wasn't killing him. After he was finished, Jeff gave him a lollipop and they were friends again. That was also his first lollipop, so he wasn't quite sure what to do with it at first, but THAT's the kind of new experience he was made for!

aaah, the guilt begins...

If you're reading this, you got my email...please think about it!

Separated at birth? (maybe not)

I see a slight resemblence in the first guy (whoever he is) but Nick Lechey?? Kyra Sedgewyck? WTF? I've also been told he looks a little like this guy...

(the singer from Blink182) Dunno...maybe a little???
Good thing he doesn't read my blog...

Screw you, sentimentality!

Disclaimer: I'm not normally prone to being overly-sentimental. Sure, I like a cute kitten as much as the next girl, but generally I express most of my feelings with sarcasm. Since sarcasm really isn't appropriate for sentimentality, it's generally an emotion I skip altogether.

So I'm driving home from with Connor this morning after about an hour or two of Christmas shopping and we're yelling, being silly, and and generally carrying-on in the car. Then some unknown, twangy, country-Christmas song comes on the radio and it's all about going home and seeing your family for the holidays. Feel-good kinda song with a catchy chorus, so we're singing along, (Connor is making up his own verses and choruses as we go). Having fun and I'm thinking about the week we just spent in New York with my family. Okay, warm-fuzzy, but nothing rediculous. Since I've landed on a country-music station, the next song is the deal-breaker. It's all about a dad who overhears his little girl praying for an abused girl she knows. Yeah. So by the time I pull into the garage, I'm bawling. Thinking about how lucky I am, how wonderful Connor and Nick are...generally being a puddle of girlie-girl. Poor Connor doesn't know why the hell I'm all sniffly and watery as I take him out of his car-seat and give him a bear hug. He probably just thinks I'm insane.
THEN...
We walk into the house. In my absence, Rubik clearly discovered something delicious-smelling in the garbage can and he seems to have been removing everything in the can and depositing it allllll over my kitchen floor. Poor mutt was standing at the door with an "oh shit" look on his face. I just had to laugh. Nothing else I could do at that point, I just walked over, opened the door and let him outside; he ran like his tail was on fire, I might add.

Ho-ho-effin-ho.