Where Poor Basil Sits and Waits...

A month ago, Brother Unit showed up for a visit. Upon arriving, he requested we go to Thunderbird Falls to go for a hike. While not my ideal way to begin a trip after a seven hour flight, I did not fly anywhere. In the summer when my family invaded, Pilot Boy took my dad and Brother Unit there on the day they arrived because my dad wanted to "do" something.

My mother and I, being the sane ones in the family, remained here. In the house.

Because my brother and his friend weren't sane, I went along for this post flight hike. Because I'm not actually sane, I wore a mini skirt and leggings to go hiking.

Yeah, you read that right.

So, Thunderbird Falls is...a waterfall. It's an "easy" hike. (It's in quotes because there are hills and if you fail to know how I feel about hills, well, then we'll have to talk later.) A few weeks before Brother Unit and Friend arrived, Pilot Boy and I went there to do an afternoon hike. It was snowing and the snow was melting. All at the same time. Thanks to the record snow fall we had this past winter, by the time Brother Unit and Friend showed up, there was still a good deal of snow, but the creek/river/water thing was melted further.

And for some unknown reason, Pilot Boy went to investigate the water. Why? We won't ever know. What we do know: he fell in.

He did.

He brushed it off as the piece of "ice" he was on wasn't solid. It had nothing to do with the fact he lacks grace and coordination.

After checking out the raging water fall, we headed back. We were almost to the Hill of Doom (have you ever tried to walk down a steep included covered in melting snow? It's not fun. Highly likely you'll end up on your butt.) when Pilot Boy started searching his pockets. He handed me the dog and his backpack, but wouldn't tell me what he lost.

So, I assumed the worst.

He lost the keys. We were trapped in Thunderbird Falls!

No, he handed me those when I asked.

He walked off and jumped back into the river. The three of us left that weren't on four legs or in the water, stared at him. (Basil was like WHY WE STOP? WE ARE WALKING HERE PEOPLE.)

"What did he lose?" Brother Unit asked.
"No clue. He won't tell me."
"Was it his wallet? He was checking his pockets."
"Oh, crap."

Images of having to get new IDs flooded my mind. Credit cards. Money. IDs. I was getting a headache just imagining the issues if he'd lost his wallet.

Pilot Boy didn't seem to be making any headway in his search. I finally handed Basil Bea off to Brother Unit (Basil: SERIOUSLY, WHY ARE WE NOT WALKING PEOPLE?) I hopped down to where Pilot Boy was searching the ice cold waters for...something.

"What did you lose?"
He looked at me, then back into the water. He moved a rock.
"Come on, I won't get mad. What did you lose? Your wallet?"
"No," he sneered at me. He thought I was insane to think he'd lost his wallet.

Confession: I'm amazed he hasn't lost his wallet yet. Or forgotten it somewhere.

Pilot Boy looses things. It's how he rolls. Just this week, he lost the power cord to his laptop, rendering the laptop useless. As far as either of us can tell, the airplane he worked on last week ate it.

"What did you lose?"

I honestly couldn't figure out what he could have lost in the water that he was trying to find. I knew he had his phone, I had the keys and he claimed he still had his wallet. What else could he have lost?

"What did you lose?" I repeated.
"My ring."

It took a moment for those words to sink in along with the sheepish expression painting his features. He was scared how I was going to react to the fact he'd lost his wedding ring.

He fell in a freezing cold stream and his ring fell off.

I started laughing. Pilot Boy looked at me like I was deranged. I turned around, climbed back up to where Brother Unit and Friend were located and dumped the backpack.

"What did he lose?" Brother Unit asked.
"His ring."
"His wedding ring?"
"Yup."

Brother Unit also thought I was insane for laughing, as I was still laughing. Friend also thought I was a bit off my rocker. After securing Basil to a tree root (WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? WHY ARE YOU GETTING IN THE WATER? WHY ARE WE NOT WALKING? YOU SAID WE WERE GOING FOR A WALK, NOT A STAND) I hopped into the stream with Pilot Boy and Brother Unit and Friend stood along the shore, keeping a look out for something shiny. Friend took photos and tried to use her flash. I moved rocks and pieces of ice out of the way.

I stayed in that stream till the water began to seep into my hiking boots. (I did wear hiking boots with my mini skirt/legging combo.) I hopped out and watched Pilot Boy continue to search in vain. A few times Friend and I thought we saw something, but we never did find it.

Basil began to whine at some point. (HONESTLY, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? WATER IS EVIL. GET OUT OF THE WATER AND WALK ME. NOW.)

Somehow, I guess the story got out at Pilot Boy's work he lost his wedding ring. His boss asked him the other day if he was out of the dog house yet.

"Why?"
"You lost your wedding ring. Isn't your wife mad at you?"
"Actually, she wasn't very upset," Pilot Boy admitted.

And the boss looked at him as if he was mental. So, Pilot Boy came home and asked me if I was mad at him for losing the ring.

Do you want to know why I am not pissed as hell my husband lost his wedding ring? Because I've been waiting five years for him to lose it. And not just because he loses things. Granted, due to the fact he must remove the ring to whenever he flies (don't ask me why)---and it is highly likely he'll just randomly lose it due to that--- that was not why I have been sitting around waiting for it to go MIA. The reason I've been waiting for it leave him is because it was like two sizes too big. And he refused to get it sized.

When we bought our wedding rings, the lady at the jeweler handed him the ring sizer thing and said, "Try that one."

He stuck the first one she handed him. She asked him how it fit and he said, "I don't know."

"Is it too big? Does it slide off easy? Can you get it off?"

Pilot Boy slid it off, shrugging. He had no clue what to tell her about the size, since he'd never worn a ring before, so he said it was fine. This is typical Pilot Boy behavior when he's doing something he'd rather not and doesn't care. He just wanted a ring: plain, silver. The end.

He got that.

And within a few days of putting it on his finger, I knew it was way too big. I told him he was going to lose it. He kept saying he'd get it sized when we went back to Chicagoland, but he never did. Then we went to the Dirt Hole and they told him he had to remove it to fly. So then he refused to get it resized, even when it flew off his hand and across the room a few times. A few times since we've been in Alaska, he's said he wanted to get it sized, but then he decides no. It's fine.

Then he lost it.

And I got to say, "I told you so."

Best. Moment. Ever.

Hence, why I laughed. Because I've never really got him like that before. Even if I knew I was right and I told him so, he always has some comeback. That day, he just looked sheepish.

At least he didn't lose it like he loses most things: by forgetting them, leaving them behind.

It's been a month since he lost the ring and he still thinks he's going to find it if we go back to Thunderbird Falls. I roll my eyes. That ring is gone, dude.

Gone.

I bought him a replacement ring for a dollar. It was too big. He put it on the dog's collar and yesterday he broke it when he threw her collar at the fireplace for some reason. The ring shattered. At least I only paid a dollar. I'll get a smaller one the next time I go downtown. I'll buy a few.

Till I can drag him to get a proper ring, which might be in ten years....

It Won't Stop Snowing!

I live in Alaska. I know it snows. I know it ought to snow quite a bit.

PLEASE STOP SNOWING.

I can't see while driving. I'm pretty sure my yard is going to be FULL by the time spring finally shows up. And it won't be un-FULL till summer. (Yeah, it's that full.)

After thinking it was hazardous to drive through the streets due to snow MOUNDS, not street conditions, I took Basil out to the backyard. Okay, I let her out the door and she shot out.  Pilot Boy, months ago it seems, carved paths for the poor mutt when the snow got too deep for her to swim through on her own. She had been only using her well beaten path to the tree and never tore around the yard. But she's got paths now.

Though, under the tree is still her favorite spot.

I'm sure if she could, she'd chew that tree to bits. It did crack earlier this winter and a huge branch fell down into the yard during an ice storm. Since then, Basil Bea Dog has been slowly chewing the tree away. Today, while I was out with her, she discovered part of the branch that had been buried. I was minding my own business checking out our snow covered yard when I noticed her digging. Basil Bea loves to dig. It's an activity she learned from my father and brother during her stay in Chicagoland. Before she watched them dig a huge hole for the drywell for the sump pump, Basil Bea did not dig. Now she digs. Often. Today, she went digging in the snow. Strange on many levels, I went over to see what she'd found.

It was a STICK.

Basil Bea also learned to love sticks during her stay in the Chicagoland area. She learned to love a lot of things while there: walking, cold weather, snow, sticks, digging, turkey, carrots, cheerios, sleeping like she was drunk...(Side note: I miss my little drunken sailor. That bed bit the dust, so I no longer get a performance of Basil Bea hanging her head over the side of the boat.)

So, while Basil Bea dug and chewed on the branch, I ventured down the paths Pilot Boy carved. Partly to beat them down, partly to get far enough back to capture the snow on the roof. So, off I went.

Then I fell off the path. Right down into the snow up to my thigh. I was unable to photograph that, so I took this one, where it was up to my knee. I managed to get myself out of the hole, with Basil's help.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Basil was no help.


I fell in a few more times in my attempts to get myself back on the packed path. Basil came over after I was topside and sniffed out all the holes I'd made. Evidenlty, they smell good.

I did finally get a photo of the snow on the roof. The snow that is on the bay window, there? The snow is creeping again, away from the roof. It's annoying.

I also looked at everyone else's roofs. Even the people who "cleaned." We all look like we've got the same amount of snow.

It was snowing while I had Basil Bea out this afternoon. It has just finally stopped after a few hours, thank god. I don't think I can handle another major snow fall. Unless it takes out the tree in the backyard fully. I hate that tree.

Camping in the Tundra

What do you do when the temperatures are below zero and it's January in Alaska?

You go camping, duh. Where have you been?

Ireland 3.0 camps. In cabins. Not tents.

I only went camping to shut Pilot Boy up, if I am honest with you. He has wanted to do this whole ski to a cabin, spend the night and ski back since he ran across some people doing this very thing when he and his father met a few people doing just this activity. And giving up.

But never mind that! Those people were wimps!

He doesn't really know me, clearly. I am the biggest wimp in the world. I cry before they stick the needle in. I cry before they do anything that might hurt. Even if I know it won't hurt. I'm also terrified of the unknown, so going "camping" isn't exactly my cuppa tea.

I'd rather have a cuppa tea.

He wore me down though. First, he took me skiing, then he bought me skis. He then took me skiing a few times, and while it was clear as day I fail at life while on skis, he finally got me to make it a mile and not wind up in tears of frustration. Plus, we can take Basil! She loves snow!

I gave up. Simple answer to a complex question. I just gave up.

This is why I wind up doing things I ought not to be doing. Like skiing cross country, hiking through forest, fishing for halibut, driving from St. Louis to Del Rio, TX alone after moving ourselves out of our first apartment, eating tomatoes, etc.

So, after I made it a mile on my skis, Pilot Boy said, "We can go to that cabin that's only a mile in! You can ski a mile!"

"I need a bathroom."
"It's got a bathroom!"
"In the cabin?"
"Sure."
"Can we take Basil?"
"YES! HERE WE GO!"

Well, this cabin was only a mile in, and we could take the dog and there was a bathroom. The bathroom was not connected to the cabin in the least. It was the typical Alaska State Park outhouse. The cabin had no power. It was heated by a wood burning stove. And you had to ski to get there. Up and down hill.

I still do not get along with hills. AT ALL.

The one room cabin with wood slaps for beds was located two hours north of home in Denali State Park. On a lake. The lake was the draw for Pilot Boy as he wanted to fish. (More on this later.)

After driving and watching the temperate actually rise as we traveled inland and north, we reached the park. We unloaded all out stuff, put on backpacks and connected the sled to Pilot Boy and put Basil in her fluorescent orange coat and set off.

Getting there was actually easy, as it was most downhill. I was still frozen stiff though when we reached the cabin. I greeted the cabin by falling flat on my butt and getting snow up my back, as for some unknown reason none of my layers wanted to remain around my waist, protecting my back.

I fell again before reaching the cabin fully and Pilot Boy simply unsnapped me from my skis. So ended my skiing for the day.

Pilot Boy skied once more to the car to get more wood, as he did not want to use the wood left in the cabin. I figured we'd need to use some of it even after the second load arrived as the fire ate wood. Just ate it. As fast as it could. It did.

Also, I discovered, it did not fully heat the room very well, as things that were not located near the fire were somewhat cold/frozen/dead.

Pilot Boy assured me after I reached the cabin I didn't have to do anything except read. Kendi the Kindle (my wonderful high-tech e-Book reader device thingy) was frozen though, so the battery lagged the first hour we were there till I managed to warm her up. Then my cell phone died a quick death – I cannot stand silence as my ears ring unless there is noise about.

It was quiet. Or at least I assume it was quiet, as my ears were just going BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

But I digress.

Pilot Boy wanted to go to the cabin to ice fish. I think he must attempt all forms of fishing. He even dragged his fishing poles to Florida with us on our vacation. While Pilot Boy seems to do a lot of fishing, he doesn't catch much. Especially here in Alaska. I've seen him catch one fish in Alaska. (I didn't witness the halibut catch, but I know he caught those while we were way out in the ocean last June.)

I've never caught a fish in Alaska, except the halibut, which if I had had my way, I wouldn't have caught. But, that is not the point, the point is that ice fishing was a total bust. One: it was FREEZING cold. (Duh!)  Two: Fish knew it was cold and were like, aw hell no. We won’t bite. Go away until Spring.

Pilot Boy rented a cork-screw object called an auger in order to drill a hole in the solid ice. The lady at the joint kept asking him if why he wanted the non-motorized one. His philosophy was he didn't want to deal with gasoline. It wasn't till he was out standing in the freezing cold attempting to make his hole in the thickest ice known to mankind, he began to think maybe he ought to have gotten the one that would use gasoline as elbow grease. He finally made his hole, set up the ice fishing contraption and returned to the cabin.

The cabin. Where it was still cold if you were not within a foot of the fire, which was then far too hot.

I was still wearing both my coats (My Columbia shell, my brand new Denali, The North Face coat (which is a good purchase - I should not have allowed the price factor to scare me when I first got here, best coat EVER), my snow pants and boots. I was reading my Kindle with gloves on while wearing my hat and my hood.

At one point I turned around to find my poor dog shivering, while curled up on herself on the sleeping bags we'd unrolled. There was a reason Pilot Boy suggested we unroll them, but I cannot remember. Least to say, I tried to tempt the poor creature to the fire, but she was terrified of the metal that was immediately in front of the fire, for I guess a reason in her little dog brain. It never got hot, so who knows. She loves fire, it's like sun! Only at night!

Least to say, I ordered Pilot Boy to get her bed in his next trek to the car, which he did, which Basil refused to get in till bedtime, then she got out every so often to attempt to put her furry butt in my face and stop my breathing.

At some point, Pilot Boy figured out the secret to getting the fireplace to kind of work to the point where I did not need to wear all my coats. I kept my boots on and the North Face jacket. But at some point the hat did leave, and I was able to loose the gloves and Kendi the Kindle began to work properly.

After getting more wood, Pilot Boy dragged Basil Bea and I out to look at his hole in the ice. It was a horrific ski, but I was walking. Pilot Boy skied once and learned his lesson (this means it must have been bad, as usually for Pilot Boy to stop doing something I see as stupid, take a long time). Basil was THRILLED to be outside, ran around, jumped through snow drifts and was a happy puppy till she reached the lake. I'm not sure how the dog knew she was suddenly on the lake, but she kind of freaked out.

Basil hates water. Except if it is in her water bowl, or a bowl that is smaller than her head, she hates any sort of body of water. She will not drink from it, will not walk in it, will not swim in it, and will not go near it if she can help it. This might steam from the fact that within seconds of letting her into our home, we gave her a bath.

And then we proceeded to bathe the mutt three or four times because she was THAT DIRTY. She was confused and conflicted when ever we took her to the lake in the Dirt Hole, which continues to this day. I was trailing behind and knew that Basil Bea wanted more than anything to follow her Boy out, but she didn't want to walk on the water.

This water Basil feared was buried underneath her at least two feet (if not more) of snow, plus at least four feet of ice. Least to say, she wasn't going to get wet from the water, it was not going to do a thing to her. After dancing around where I assume the shore was, she darted out and did this rather insane looking walk that was honestly reminiscent of the first time we put boots on her paws. It was as if she had no control over her limbs. She stopped and seemed at a loss on what to do half way to Pilot Boy.

"Will you pick her up?" Pilot Boy called.

I honestly thought she was cold, so when I reached her, I picked her up and cuddled her. I realized that my dog was not cold, but terrified, as she CUDDLED INTO ME.

My dog doesn't like me, does not cuddle up next to me unless there is something wrong with me or with her. Since neither of us was feeling ill, I knew she wasn't cold, she was terrified.

"I think she knows she's in the lake," I told Pilot Boy.

"How?"

"I don't know. Dog sense?"

Pilot Boy scoffed at this idea, but after a moment, I put her down and she ran like normal. Clearly forgetting where she was. She danced around Pilot Boy, till she saw his hole and saw the water. She then could not for the life of her figure out what was going on. Pilot Boy complained the hole kept freezing. I was freezing so I started back. Basil Bea was fine till she reached the shore area and she began to do her crazy looking dance till she reached solid land. She reverted back to normal.

Winter in Alaska, the sun says goodbye early. Granted, we're in late January now, so it hangs out more than it used to, but it still sets and vanishes and refuses to show its face till after eight the next morning. After the sun sank, we discovered a few things.

1. There was little to do except sleep.
2. The light that claimed to work up to five feet away for reading, lit almost nothing.
3. Head lights worn constantly do not lead to good conversation being had, as I kept blinding Pilot Boy.
4. Going to the bathroom sucks.
5. The guest book is rather hilarious.

Pilot Boy read me the guest book before the sun really went away. While most people adored the cabin, thought it was the best thing ever, a few did point out the pitfalls. One couple somehow managed to get the fire going so much it was too hot to sleep. One woman had everything go wrong and she wrote at least five pages lamented this fact. I assume while she waited for her boyfriend to come back from Anchorage with her spare keys, as something happened and they couldn't break into her car. Or something.

Dinner was a can of clam chowder, which was cooked pilot style: in the can. Pilot Boy claims to do this all the time on his airplane, so I figured I might not die. We left the can sitting on the stove for a long time till it was boiling and then ate it. Then, at a loss on what to do in the dark with the only light coming from our head lamps, Pilot Boy took a "nap."

Granted this isn't much different from a night at home, I honestly got rather tired of reading by the head lamp, which are not made for reading. I really wished Pilot Boy would have splurged on a better light. (Once we got home, the light he bought warmed up to the point it worked properly...I finally managed to convince Pilot Boy the whole room had not been well heated by the fire. The fact our belongings were always frozen didn't seem to say this fact in the least...)

After a horrific trip through the dark and snow to the bathroom, we piled into our sleeping bags. Basil attempted to join us (several times), but her furry butt was not welcome. I'm allergic to Basil's furry butt, and wood burning fires do not like my nose either. While I had taken drugs, I was still rather miserable and I honestly didn't want to deal with a full-on headache. (Which, showed up the next morning in combination with my lack-of-caffeine headache.)

I did manage to sleep, have a few weird dreams about college, and woke up feeling...not as bad as I figured I would.

Secret to sleeping on a hard surface? Sleep on your stomach. It works. I've done the whole sleep on the floor a few times (cough, cough, cough, when we move and Pilot Boy refuses to stay in the hotel and extra night before our stuff shows up), and I never sleep and wake sore. Slept on stomach. Not sore. Couldn't breathe, but I was not sore.

Morning started out okay, till we discovered the frozen sandwiches. Frozen solid. In the "heated" cabin.

We packed up easily and started out for the car as after the sun rose. (Because the sun didn't have to come over the mountains that live around Anchorage, it seemed like the sun rose earlier up north, but it does not. The sun in Anchorage rises earlier, just hangs out behind the mountains a lot longer.)

I had not been looking forward to skiing in the dark, but by the time we were ready to leave, the sun was up. No more need for head lamps!

Skiing back was a massive failure on my end. I managed to get up the big hill I was dreading, as it was a gradual hill, not a steep one. The steep ones did me in. I wound up going backwards, no matter what I did.

Finally, Pilot boy snaps my skis off (I couldn't, as I was using my poles to keep me from sliding further down the hill) and I walked to the car. Carrying Basil part of the way, as Pilot Boy was terrified our dumb dog would dark out and get hit by one of the large trucks that was hanging out in the parking lot for the night.

Did I tell you our dog is heavy? And that she hates to be carried? And hates to be parted with her dear Pilot Boy?

Carrying Basil was more fail. I finally just let her go and she happily danced over to Pilot Boy and seeing she is currently asleep in her crate a few feet from me, she did not get hit by anything and lives to this day.

Nursing a massive headache, I got into the Monstrosity, whom by the way, was PISSED we left her in the cold overnight.

The Monstrosity was cold. Very cold.

I wound up sitting on our iPhones the whole way home in an attempt to let them warm up and charge quicker. And I kept Kendi the Kindle zipped inside my coat so as to not allow the battery to die because of the frightful cold.

We drove all the way to Wasilla (infamous home of Sarah Palin) till we reached breakfast. (We earlier attempted to eat the frozen sandwiches. I would not suggest that.) By the time we were there, though, it was lunch time. So I had hot coffee with my breakfast not-frozen hamburger.

And Life Was Better.

Once again, I flung myself at my couch upon returning home, telling it I was not leaving it every again. I repeated his action with the bed and Lucy the iMac computer device. I doubt any of the objects in my life believe me, as I promised this same promise a few days before and then left again. To go camping in The Tundra.

Least to say, though, I will not abandon them to go "camping" ever again. I'm not an outdoor girl, I'm not a camping girl, I'm not a roughing it girl. I'm a girl who likes flushing toilets and lights powered by electricity.

Sometime in the next month, I'll share the tale of Ireland and the Humid Florida Adventure.

I'm a Reading Machine, Hear Me Read

I just finished mowing the lawn. For the last time....this year. I hope. It was finally sunny. I ought to have gone out and mowed it...last weekend. Buuuuuuutttttttttt, I didn't. I stayed in and read. Which I've done. Daily. For. The last...month? I'm lame.

Books I've read in the past month:

The Circle of Magic (Sandry's, Deja's, Tris's, and Briar's book. There are four books and I read at least two of them (Sandry's and Tris's) when I was 14. The summer before I started high school, I think. I might have read Deja's book, I don't remember. I never read Brair's book. Anyways, I re-read or read them all finally, as they appeared one day on my Kindle search for Tamora Pierce. I was like WHOOOO. They are brilliant as usual. I fell in love with Brair. I didn't like him too well the first time I read the books, Tris being my favorite character, but this round, I found Brair fascinating.)

The Circle Opens(Another four books that have titles. But I am lazy. I don't feel like looking them up. I just mowed the lawn and feel like death. Anyways, I read them in order. I think. I started out with Sandry, who was the only one who remained in the town where they'd all been brought together in the first place. In the series, each new Mage gets a student. And none of them really want a student. Sandry and Deja kind of suck as teachers and are the ones who are least inclined with their students. Briar isn't inclined, but he winds up being the best teacher. And it is not because I am bias that I say this. He's the one who quickly accepts his role and embraces it. However, I can tell from reading about 14 year old Brair, he's going to be trouble as he gets older. And enjoys it. Tris's book, though, was my all time favorite out of the four. I liked her student quite a bit and I liked witnessing the changes in Tris.)

The Will of the Empress. (Totally a GREAT book to wrap up the whole Circle series. I know there's another one, but it doesn't feature Sandry, Deja, Tris or most importantly Brair, so I've not read it yet. Anyways, this book starts after the four have been apart for years upon years and have grown apart. They've cut themselves off from one another and then travel into hostile territory. Throughout the book, they finally manage to open themselves up to one another though, so it ends well. Well, for some of them. And I was right about Brair. That is proven in this book. And while it is perfectly understandable, it kind of annoys me. But I KNOW THERE IS A REASON, so I know it shouldn't annoy me. Not everyone can be as I WANT THEM.)

Faking It. (And ADULT BOOK. And by that I mean, it's aimed at Adult like people who want a romantic, introspective book to look at. Or read. It was pretty good...I was slightly frustrated after making one care so much about the two main character they never "got together." Oops, spoiler.)

Getting Caught. (This was okay. I liked that it was mostly about two former friends, who due to lack of communication started pranking one another. And hated one another for basically teh same reason, even though neither had done what the other hated the other for. Typical teenager. Cute. Not the best Mandy Hubbard, but she did write it with another person. So far, RIPPLE is the BEST Mandy Hubbard book. It was even better than But I Love Him.)

Beautiful Disaster. (I had low hopes for this book, after skimming the reviews. I was mostly interested it because it was about COLLEGE people. College Freshman. I haven't seen many books about college aged people, so I leaped. It was kind of long and it was kind of...stupid. But it was like crack. Or a soap opera. Like Passions. I miss Passions sometimes. It was like a train wreck and you just could not stop looking. That was this dumb book. It was like horrible accident that you just had to keep reading about. It was horrible. The relationship was...horrible. And then...the ending sucked. It was like Twilight all over again. Only with...sex.)

The Ghost and the Goth. (OMG. I read this twice in two days. It is...fluffy. But SO DAMN GOOD. I saw this in the bookstore when I went to get R her present for her July Birthday, which is still sitting on my dinning room table for no good reason other than....I am the laziest person known to man. Anyways, I saw it in the book store and I knew I was a gonner for two reasons: the uber popular girl and the outsider. I'm a total sucker for these things. I'm sorry. I knew it. Then add in teh ghost aspect and I was like, SQUEEEEEE. And it lived up to all my expections. Only, the publisher failed, as it's not on Kindle yet for Book 2. BAH. It's the last book in the Immortals series all over again.)

Between the Lines. (Yet another book after reading the first two lines of the description I bought without reading any more, as it was about...Hollywood. Acting. Movies. Add in a wee bit of Romance. I love these topics as well. My all time favorite books as a kid always dealt with actresses and TV or movies. So, I got this right away and read it twice in two days. I love that it's told from two perspectives, the guy and girl. I also like how it ends, which I always surprising. Endings are the worst for me. I can't write them, I hate reading them. Then, I found out there's another book in the series and I was dancing around the room.)

Epic Fail. (Another I got when I saw Hollywood in the description. The book was kind of an epic fail though...it was a retelling of Pride and Prejudice from what I could tell. Which must be some book, as several of the books I've read over the past year are basically re-tellings of that story. Elizabeth Bennett is a big deal and I have no clue why. Why? Because I've read four pages of PP and thought my mind was going to explode. I only know what it's about because I watched Lost in Austen after Claire told me to. But, while the other stories I didn't SEE the story line playing out for me, I did in this story. Even the character's names were close to the original names used. It distracted me throughout. Also, while I loved how we FINALLY got to know the main dude near the end, I was rather unhappy it just ENDED rather randomly.)

Anna and the French Kiss. (This has popped up in the recommends since I got my Kindle. Whose name is Kendi. I don't know if I told you that. Anyways, I've always looked at it, heard wonderful things about it, but something prevented me from hitting the BUY button. I have no clue what, but it did. Finally, though, yesterday, I hit the buy button. And the book ate me alive. I am serious. It ate me alive. It has EVERYTHING going for it. A great main character voice, a wonderful boy to fall in love with, and great supporting character and....Paris. I'm not a HUGE Paris fan. I've never had this undying NEED to go to Paris. Or learn French. Or know anything about French. Except the French Revolution because it MAKES LITTLE SENSE to me. Like Communism. Or Economics. Things that make no sense to me, I always want to know more about. In a sense, I want things to fit into neat little boxes. But, that's not the point. Paris is not London. Paris is not Glasgow. Paris is not British in other words. So, I don't care about it. In the title, on the cover, you can tell Paris/French/France will play a role. It does. It is an important role. But, I wish that hadn't prevented me from buying the book. Because...this book is AWESOME. I can't even put it into words. I think I might be able to read this book a million times. Like Harry Potter. Or Summer Story (which I wrote, and I've read a total of five times. And I still love it.))

Falling in Love With English  Boys. (Duh, I got this book after seeing the title. It was kind of hard to get into, mostly because it is written as a blog written by a 16 year old in today's world, using today's slang, today's spelling and she write as I do. How she speaks. So thing are spelled wrong. I think if I read it out loud, it'd make more sense, but this was still pretty good. It was woven in with a diary of an 18 year old in 1815. Who knows a NICK. WHO ACTS LIKE A NICK. After this point...I kind of liked it more, so I read it too fast and missed a lot. I will read it again....after I read Anna and the French Kiss again. After I kill my barking dog. (Just kidding. I'm just going to wrap her up in a blanket and tell her she's not allowed to bark at the neighbor. She will look pathedic, I will go, "awwwww" and kiss her and hug her and she will cuddle up next to me and we'll forget she just scared the living shit out of me and more than likely who ever she was barking at out the front window.) Anyways, I love two viewpoints, and multiple story lines that weave together in the end, so duh, I liked this book. Plus LONDON. Tragically, it never out right told us who the 1815 chick ended up with, though it did tell us who she did not. Which was good, because I could sit there and be a dork.)

And that's it. Unless I add in there the stories I've written that I've read. (Mostly Summer Story. It's the only "complete" one. The others all need re-writes. Like RAB. RAB needs help I've decided. I have never been bored reading it till the last time I looked at it. I still loved the characters, but god, I was like, WFT was I thinking?)

Do people really say, in every day conversations, "BRB." Like say the freaking letters instead of "Be right back?" I had a friend in high school who said, "TTYL" And I always blinked at her. As my head doesn't work fast enough to figure it out. I've just noticed in the last few YA books, that in the actual conversations people have they are speaking in texting lingo. LOL, BRB. GTG. I am like, HUH? I AM OLD.

Oh, so I mowed the lawn. And I ignored the neighbors and people outside. Enjoying the fall day with my broken earphones, which one was stuffed into my shirt thumping and making horrible noises. Pilot Boy ran off with all earphones or lost them. We had three sets of BRAND NEW APPLE earphone, THREE sets of fancy ones and now the only ones I have find are the broken OLD APPLE EARPHONES that came with MY FIRST iSHUFFLE. SERIOUSLY?

I'm going to go die now. Or watch Doctor Who.

Stilletos and Fish

Some things....of interest.


1. I can walk in five inch heels. Like, skinny, platform, Victoria Beckham worthy heels.
2. When fishing in Alaska, if you walk 12 feet away from your fish, legally a bear can take your fish. (This produced several assuming images when Pilot Boy read about this little tid bit when he got his fishing license last night.)
3. In five inch heels I cannot walk as fast as Pilot Boy, even if I am almost as tall as him.
4. Editing on a Kindle is easier than on the computer. I don't know why. Ask Basil.
5. Basil is EXPLODING with fur. I think she wants to be bald.
6. There is an area of the "river" that is salt water. This area you can fish without a pole or something. Pilot Boy thought this was stupid when he first told me about it, but then 24 hours later decided he wanted to do it, so we had to go buy line and hooks to do this.
7. I still can't "style" my hair curly. It just wants to be a curly, straight, confused mess. No matter what. Dumb hair.
8. I found my Abercrombie shirt that my brother rejected, but I lived in during college. It still fits. This makes me happy. My favorite pants also still fit....even if they are a bit thin...but I never leave the house so it don't matter.
9. I've looked at my senior year yearbook like five times in the past 48 hours. I refuse to admit why I dug it out. Okay, it was for a bit of research. Okay? That's it. I couldn't remember something and I am stickler for certain details. Maybe, just maybe, that might make sense. More than likely not. BUT IT MIGHT.
10. I'm in the market for readers. Just readers. I just want you to read. That is it. I might even give you a choice on what you can read. I have several projects.

That is it. Bye.

Crumble

How do make a kick ass crumble:

Ingredients:

Find some fruit to fill a small glass baking pan. Does not truly matter what fruit you use. Apples, pears, blueberries, strawberries...anything works except maybe oranges. Or a grapefruit. I tend to use apples and rhubarb when it randomly appears in my backyard. Not together, apples and rhubarb, but separately.  Today, I'm going to use Apples and Blueberries.
1/2 stick of butter (doesn't matter what sort of butter. I use the fake stuff because it's cheap and "better" for you. Might need more butter if the topping is too dry.)
Spices (just dump these on to your liking and use whatever you think goes with your fruit.)
1/2 box of yellow cake mix.
Oatmeal (will just sprinkle to your liking)


1. Okay, so find some fruit.
(I found Apples and Blueberries.)

2. Preheat the oven to 350. Find glass baking dish.

3. Locate a knife and cutting board. Cut up fruit if needed.
(I cut up the apple. I did not cut the blueberries.)

4. Toss everything into a glass dish (size 9X9 or something along that).

5. Sprinkle said fruit in dish with some sort of spices (could use cinnamon, ginger, cloves, cardamon, all spice, etc.)
(I put ginger and cardamon all over my fruit.)

6. Find the oatmeal and sprinkle over the top of the fruit.

7. Cut a stick of butter in half. Get a microwave safe mixing bowl and put the butter in it. Put it bowl and butter into the microwave. (Soften the butter. Don't MELT IT. 10 or 15 seconds works.)

8. Dump half the box of cake mix onto softened butter.

9. Dump some more spices into the cake mix. If you want, add some vanilla.

10. Find a fork (Forks are the best) and mix together the cake mix and butter. If you MELT butter, this step becomes kind of...off. Too much melted butter will result in a cake mix like substance, not the crumbly mixture you want. Doesn't matter, as it all tastes the same. But I find its easier to work with the crumbly stuff. If it's too dry, add more melted butter. JUST A LITTLE. Not too much, or you'll end up with cake mix.

11. After it's mixed together, lick the fork. Put fork in dishwasher or wherever you store dirty dishes.

12. Using your hands, pick up clumps of cake mixture and crumble over the oats and fruit.

13. After the topping is on, add some more oatmeal.

14.  Stick it into the preheated oven. Bake until the fruit is bubbling and the topping looks baked. Usually this takes roughly about 30 to 35 minutes, depending on how lame ones oven is.

And WHALA. You have a yummy desert. Or fruit product to eat.

And this is why Martha Stewart and I do not get along. When I make this it always turns out prefect because I just DUMP and there is little measuring. The only thing I "measure" is the butter. But only because I cut it in half where it tells me the half point is located. I eye ball everything else.

Update on GET YOUR BUTT IN GEAR:


Day Eight: Took day off.

Day Nine: Hiked. For how long, I do not know. For how far, I do not know. But we hiked through the Chugack Mountains around the Hillside Trail System or something. It was sunny and hot. Yeah, you read that right: SUNNY AND HOT. It was like 28 degrees down in Anchorage, but up on the sunny mountain it was almost 40 degrees. Except in the shade. But when we got back in our car it was 39 degrees. And we were both only wearing fleeces. And Basil was HOT. Black puppy in the boiling sun. But she was a happy hot puppy. She LOVES snow and walking and running, so she was thrilled. Plus, she's getting a lot better about meeting other dogs on the trails. She no longer gets so excited she freaks the other dogs out. She always says HI, but doesn't say HI MY NAME IS BASIL LOVE ME PLAY WITH ME LOVE ME PLAY WITH ME LOVE ME HI MY NAME IS BASIL! I AM A PUPPY!

Like the other dogs couldn't tell.

Day Ten: Did 20 minutes of walking.

Day 11: Will do another 20 minutes of walking.

And so ends the update.

Things that made for an interesting weekend...

1. After two days of wearing the same sweater, I discovered it was an x-small size. I stared at it for a long time when I made this discovery, as I haven't worn a x-small since I was in high school, and the sweater was not left over from high school. It made me feel skinny, so I decided it was new favorite sweater.
2. Bark. Bark. Bark. My name is Basil Bea Dog and you will listen to me endlessly bark at nothing.
3. I wore four inch heels to take the trash out. I had forgotten I had put them on when I realized it was five pm and I needed to get the trash out before I forgot. I got to the end of the driveway and though, "Oops. I should have changed my shoes." I almost twisted my knee trying to make my way through two inches of snow on the driveway.
4. It snowed quite a bit this weekend and I don't remember really seeing it snow.
5. I made apple crumble. I then ate it all the next day. I am out of raisins.
6. Suzi's had another recall. Fuel pump and cold temps make for an unhappy Suzi. I am terrified of taking Suzi to the dealer, due from her last encounter with the dealer. But at the same time, I do not want to blow up. Or have Pilot Boy blow up. That'd be bad.
7. I spent over an hour looking for a movie to stream on Netflix. I ended up going to bed because I never found one.
8. I spent all night Friday singing. Kinda like I did a lot of weekend nights my senior year of college. By myself. In my room. Only this time I had Basil Bea staring at me thinking, "God, what is wrong with you? Just go to bed all ready."
9. This weekend I ate an entire bag of Smart Popcorn. If it had been a normal sized bag, this would not be a big deal. It was a family sized bag.
10. I read three books this weekend too. One was so bad, I gave up reading it and just read the end. The other two I read all the way through. Only after I was done with them did I decide I did not like spy novels.

Things I Wish Would Magically Happen...

1. I could spell.
2. I'd get an agent.
3. I'd write something that made sense to more than just me.
4. I had a TARDIS.
5. I'd be able to go to the gym without actually having to drive there.
6. I would like to go running.
7. The dishes would wash themselves.
8. The vacuum would turn into a Dyson.
9. Basil would stop shedding.
10. I no longer had sinus headaches.

None of those things will magically happen.

I was going to take a video of the noise my new TARDIS cookie jar makes, but Pilot Boy ran off with the camcorder. I don't remember why, as he never takes pictures of anything.

Weekend Adventures for Basil Bea

After finding out he was not going to Hawaii this weekend, Pilot Boy decided he was going to ski from Russian Jack Park to Earthquake Park. There is actually a trail that goes that far through the various parks of Anchorage. He did not ski down Northern Lights. Which is a street. That you and the crazy people of Anchorage drive down. The crazy people of Anchorage usually only cross country ski in parks. (Though I have seen people skiing down the sidewalk on Turpin Road/Street.) But, he did not want to ski out to Earthuqake park and then back home. So, I dropped him off and then loaded Basil Bea Dog into the Monstrosity and drove her to her favorite park in the whole wide world.

And then she went NUTS.

First, I locked her in the trunk because she hopped into the car and went into the trunk. So I put the middle seat up and left her back there. She wasn't sure what to do about this, but she was like, well, okay. Then, we pulled into the parking lot of the park and she saw her BOY! AND SHE WENT INSANE. She twirlled, whined, flipped over. Then I let her out and she REFUSED to put her leash on. I was like, "You are not leaving this car till you get this on, DOG."

"You think so? Fine. Put the chain around my neck. Good? Okay, later."

And out she went. I did not realize the leash was not attached to her chain. So I went running after her while Pilot Boy loaded his skis into the car. After I got her leashed we stood around for awhile while Pilot Boy put his boots back on and then....Basil Bea....saw....other...dogs.

Lots of dogs.

So what did she do?

She sat down and made lots of loud crazy noises. I am not sure how to discribe them as they were somewhere between talking and whining and something else. It was a very unique noise. So, when Pilot Boy was ready to walk, SHE PULLED ME DOWN THE SNOW LADDEN WALKWAY TO THE DOGS. Making this strange noise the whole way.

The dogs and Basil all sniffed one another's butts, then I was like, "Okay, you said hi. Let's go. We're walking, not playing."

The other dogs were not on leashses (even though it clearly states your dog must be leashed, but most people in Anchorage do not seem to leash their dogs) so they followed us down the path, sniffing and barking at Basil, who was like OVERLOAD!

She pretty much made vocal noises for the rest of the trip, had hissy fits when other dogs did not pay attention to her (one dog was chasing after his owner on skis and paid no heed to Basil Bea). She danced through the snow, dove head first in a few times, and tried to make all dogs pay attention to her. After a short walk (Pilot Boy was cold due to the fact he was sweating to death), we loaded Basil Bea into the car and she sat in the seat (Yes, she sat in the seat. Like a person would sit in a seat. This is how she rides in the car since the issues we had at Thanksgiving. It is like she knows if she doesn't sit still I will LOCK HER TO THE SEAT.) and was smiling the whole way home. Then she danced around the house all evening.

Yesterday, Pilot Boy made pull pork for dinner. Basil was fed dinner around the same time we were eating. Basil Bea eats...oddly for a dog I guess. First, she usually sits while she eats. And she has NEVER eaten quickly. She usually eats pretty slow for a dog. Unless she's stressed or excited, but usually she's just NOM NOM NOM. Anyways, she also has this strange habit of taking a bunch of food into her mouth, walking to a different location, dropping it carefully and then eating it. Hit repeat a few times and then she sits at her bowls and eats. Well, we were making our pulled pork sandwiches and I was going to toss a small bit into her bowl (she was being a good puppy). Pilot Boy did it first, as soon as she had backed up with a bunch of food in her mouth.

EXPLODING PUPPY FOOD!

She simply dropped the food from her mouth as quickly as possible and dove head first into her food bowl to get the tiny piece of pork. There was dog food all over the kitchen floor, rolling everywhere. Pilot Boy and I laughed, as it was the funniest thing we'd ever seen. I had not realized when she sat down a mere six inches from her bowl, she had a mouth full of food. I thought she was waiting for her piece of pork. Nope. Later, after she licked her bowl clean, she looked around, took a drink of water, then realized "HEY THERE IS DOG FOOD ALL OVER THE FLOOR! BEST DAY EVER!"

She then cleaned the floor of the exploded puppy food.

All in all, Basil Bea seemed to have a pretty good weekend.

Doggy Smell in my Nose

Basil just emerged from her crate, so she smells very strongly of...dog. I do not know how to cease the doggy smell about her, as I clean her, her crate and everything around it, but no matter what, within an hour or two, she smells like a dog again. Due to the fact I have a sinus headache and have since last night, her doggy smells is highly annoying. She is not, her smell is.

We figured out why she was shedding up a storm: she was dry.

Like her skin was dry, not she was dry from lack of water to drink. Anyways, we started her on these Doggy shed control vitamins and try to brush her more, and she is softer and less of a shedding wonder than she was before. She loves her Doggy Vitamins too...sometimes that is all she will eat for the first hour or so she is up. I am sure my dog would eat anything I put in her bowl as long as its flavored with something. She loves her heart worm meds and when she had worms, she loved the pill I gave her for that to. She was so pleased with herself after she ate it...it didn't work, but as far as she could tell, she had just gotten a really special treat for no reason!

We had a "warm spell" these few past days (or weeks, time blends into one big blur at times) and the snow melted, reminding me why I hate spring: it is ugly. When the snow melts, this place isn't pretty any more, it is just dirty and gross. I like it when snow clings to the trees. I like when there is so much snow it doesn't look black. When it melts, everything you've forgotten about shows up. Like dog poop.

The only positive thing this has led to, is that Basil Bea poops in the same area now all of a sudden: under the tree. We can only hope it remains this way, as this makes for easier pick up when one must mow the lawn.

Also, we have confirmation that the large hole in our front yard's snow drift was indeed a moose. As the snow melted, we found a pile of moose poop in our front yard. Again. So a moose did decide to take a nap in our front yard at some point. And eat my dead flowers. that were poking through the snow. Hopefully they will grow back, because that was one of those annuals I paid big bucks for at Lowes.

In shop news, I'm trying to figure out what bags to make for spring still. The bags I made in the winter are winter/fall bags, so I decided I won't fight with the sun and my house to photograph them for the shop till this summer. So, since the new year, I've only been renewing items. I still can't figure out if its worth it to renew the paper items, as I think I have renewed them to the point where I am paying someone to take them away from me (which would be fine, as I need to get rid of them.) I did discover a tragic flaw in the paper bags which I must fix. The ones I made with glue fall apart. Well, the bag doesn't fall apart, the paper I stuck to the front falls off when an item is in the bag. Totally lame. I knew there was a reason I did not like glue.

Hoppy New Year

It is hoppy, because I had some beer today.

So, 2010 ended. Did you notice? I did, only because the bowl allowed Fireworks this year and they all went super wild when 2010 melted into 2011. So, I decided (while staring out my window at the darkest storm cloud known to man that won't drop any percipitation on me) I need to write a "retrospective" kind of post. I used to do this sort of post at the end of a school year, but seeing I no longer attend school, I have moved to to year end. So here goes.

This year....

...I moved to Alaska.
...I sold 12 purses. Meaning during the time I was open from May 09 till Dec 09 I sold more.
...I went to the dentist twice.
....I did not go to the eye doctor, only because I went so often in 2009, I took a break.
...I lived in a house.
...I finally got Netflix.
...I did not have capped internet.
...I spent a great deal of time with Basil. So much so I told her we needed to see other people. She still follows me everywhere.
...I did a lot of laundry.
...Pilot Boy flew around the world.
...I "gardened" a little.
...on accident I grew organic ruharb.
...I ate sushi for the first time and now I need California rolls.
...I learned I do not like 24 hours of sunlight when the house I live in fails to realize it need a/c in order to not cause me to melt in my own home.
...I learned just because it claims to be only 50 degrees outside, doesn't mean its only 50 degrees in the sun. The sun is SUPER intense here.
...I still hated Del Rio.
...Basil knows the following words: Dinner, Breath Buster, Chummy Yummy, Walk, Ride, Outside, Potty, Good Dog, Bad Dog, Sit, Jump, Snack, Go to Bed, and Cage.
...made lots of mound shaped cookies.
...gained weight.
...I got my hair cut four times this year. At nice places.
...GOT A MAC. Who is named Lucy.
...Wrote a book about a professor and an exchange student. Will anyone read it? No. More than likely not, but I wrote it.
...I also rewrote that stupid high school story I am still working on 12 years later.
...Decided I do not mind it being dark at three pm. I get up at ten when its light out, what do I care that the sun doesn't rise till ten?
...I was unorganized in my life and in my mind.
...I discovered Basil and I have the same hair issues.
...I used Skype a lot to communicate with people. No one calls me on my actual phone. Except Pilot Boy.
...I only left the great state of Alaska once in 2010, after arriving.
...after arriving in Anchorage, I only left the city limits a grand total of 8 times. Four of those times were to go to Eagle River. One of the times I flew around in a large plane with the hatch open.
...I have turned into my mother. I do not mind.
...I watched a lot of "Doctor Who."
...I discovered "Glee."
...I watched a lot of random British TV shows I found on Netflix.
...I ended the year the way I started my year: Watching "Doctor Who."

Happy Christmas

Its techically still Christmas Eve here in Alaska, but I won't have time tomorrow to post a holiday post, so here is my post for Christmas.

Basil loves snow.

Yeah. I took her over to S's house for Christmas Eve (because without any prompting S said I could) so I packed up my puppy in her red sweater and took her over there. After dinner (which Basil was PERFECT PUPPY) we headed downstairs. After making the sniffing rounds, she began to whine. So I asked, "Do you want to go outside?"

EXPLODING PUPPY DANCE.

I asked S if she had a fence and she assured me she did. So, I put Basil Bea out on the deck. Basil was unsure what to do. She sniffed the deck, but because she couldn't find the stairs, she had no clue how to get into the yard and she did not seem to want to jump. She came back to the door, so I put my boots on and S grabbed a shovel to clear the stairs, as she seemed to think I was evil to toss Basil into the huge pile of snow that is their back yard.

I went out and tossed Basil in. S stared in amazement as Basil ran around in pure joy.

"She looks...happy," S said, sounding amazed.
"She is. I told you she loves snow."

Basil danced around and then came back over to me and got into play mode. S had the best type of snow too: fresh, untouched snow. That is Basil's favorite kind.

"You weren't kidding. She loves to run in the snow," S commented.

After Basil did her doggy business, we came back in and Basil was READY to play. She also was finally in an area with carpet so she could run and play. No one, though wanted to play as we were watching a movie. Basil calmed down, went to bed, and fell asleep.

Moral of the story: Toss the puppy in the snow for the holidays. She will think it is THE BEST PRESENT OF ALL TIME.

Nothing makes Basil happier than fresh snow and being tossed in. I am serious. She loves snow drifts. And loves shoving her head in the snow.

She is zonked out behind me right now and I think she has the right idea.

Happy Christmas and Merry Holiday All.

Oh and do not forget that tomorrow at 9/8c DOCTOR WHO CHRISTMAS SPECIAL.

Last night, I tried to think of amusing Christmas stories I could share in the days leading up to the holiday.

I came up with nothing. I am so average and boring it was not even funny. ::hear crickets::

As a child, my Christmas's were drama free. I acted like a normal child. I got up super early, woke everyone else up and we opened gifts,  one year while it was still dark out. As I got older, I got up later. And it'd be a while before we opened gifts. Then as I became a teenager, I became self aware, so I began doing my hair the night before so I'd look wonderful in the morning opening shots. Which is kind of strange, as I did not own real pjs till I was 22. Nothing remotely exciting happened at the holidays except for warm fuzzy feelings. At some point, my dad would get mad and yell, but as we got older (by we I mean, me mostly) we figured out how to deal with dad better to make him warm and fuzzy.

For awhile, after Christmas Eve service, we'd look at Christmas lights and then watch "A Christmas Carol" from the 1930s and then I'd go to bed. Then they stopped showing "A Christmas Carol" and I was sad. And we stopped driving around at lights. And I forgot.

The strangest Christmas I had was in Edinburgh, Scotland. My friend John (he has no nickname, I am sorry and I all ready have too many Js in my life) invited me to his uncle's house for the holidays. I was actually planning on wasting away in my dorm room since E had abandoned me for the holidays and our plans to spend Christmas in the South of France (which just sounded cool to us). On Christmas Eve we road the train to Edinburgh and met his uncle. (Whose name I cannot remember. Sorry.) We went to his house, met the rest of the rag tag group and ate soup. In the morning there was a socking (seriously it was a stocking sock) at the foot of the bed. I was like, WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM? It was filled with very random objects. And it was clear the most random ones were mine. Presents time was awkward because no one had gotten me anything. So they wrapped up random things for me. I got a CD and a jar of apple jam. They made us go for a walk through the hills. I learned my mint coat wasn't wind proof. We ate dinner and then I spent two hours standing in the hallway talking to my family and J (see, how confusing if I had two Js in this story?) Afterwards, I spent two hours playing with the little girl of the house till John threw up. I spent the rest of the trip worrying I was going to throw up. Boxing Day was dreary and we took the bus back to Glasgow because all I wanted to do was go home. We got home, got to the store before it closed and ate ham sandwiches.

It was the oddest holiday ever. I felt like I was on the outside looking in the whole time. Like I was invading. I had never till that point spent the holiday with anyone except my own family. I knew I'd be okay with Pilot Boy when I spent Thanksgiving with his family and I didn't feel like I was invading. I was picked on the whole time for not eating enough and I thought I was going to explode because of the lack of planning and never knowing left from right, but I have learned to deal with that aspect. I feel at ease with Pilot Boy's family...they also never gave me a CD of someone I had never heard of or an open jam jar because they felt sorry for me. I would have preferred to just stand there and stare at my feet than open presents when they clearly had not been expecting me. I didn't bring them anything.I honestly did not mind not having anything to open. I was more than happy to free the Bratz dolls for the little girl. It was like opening twenty presents just to free them from their packaging.

The first year we had Basil Bea Dog, I was paranoid she'd attack the tree. We got her at the start of December, before we put the tree up I think. I was worried she'd get into the tree and gifts. She was more interested in socks, ear plugs, pin cushions and bras. She never showed interest in the tree or the presents under it. She never has.  She ignores the tree for the most part, as I assured my parents last Christmas. Basil had no interest in their tree and did not knock it over because it was no in front of a window. I'm pretty sure that is why it fell over this year....it blocked her view of the window.

As for the gifts, Basil has no interest in them unless they are for her. Her presents always smell good to her. Last year, she got REALLY EXCITED when we opened presents. She tired to help destroy boxes. She also thought the rolls were for her to play with, so she'd take them to Allin. Oddly, they were presents for him, so she brought them to him. This year, the only box she has shown much interest in were the two boxes containing her gifts.  Grandpa got her some rawhide bones and my aunt and uncle got her cookie (I opened them early for her. Well I tried to have her open it, but she was too excited.)

This Christmas I'm going to friend's houses for holiday parties. One told me to bring a swim suit because they have a hot tub. After I hung up the phone I was like, "AHHHH!!!!!! I don't think I can get my butt into my suit!" Plus, hello, it is winter. I don't even have a razor blade. TMI? More than likely. Anyways, I knew I should have ordered that one piece suit with the control panels in it...

Start Your Day With a Laugh

I've taken to watching "Craig Ferguson" every morning since he had his "Doctor Who" special. Mostly because I remembered how funny he was and I did not have to sit up till his show was on because I have a DVR. So now I tape it and watch it in the morning instead of watching the morning news. Mostly because CBS replaced the morning team with a whole new crew of people and it kind of made me mad. And the "Today" show kind of makes me mad as well. Mostly because they annoy me. So now all morning shows annoy me, so I just watch late night TV in the dark in the morning.

I find Craig funny and he's Scottish, so its a win win for me. Well, except when I loose the clicker and I cannot fast forward through the commercials. 

I recently finished watching all Netflix has to offer for "Eureka." I love that show, but I started in the third season. Hence why I was so confused when Allison suddenly had this teenage kid named Kevin and she seemed to know him and everyone else seemed to think she had this teenage kid. But, now I am all caught up and Pilot Boy even kind of likes it! (When he actually likes a show, he can sleep through it. He cannot sleep through "Monarch of the Glen" and hates that show. Go figure.)

I have finished with the holidays. The cards are mailed out and the boxes of gifts are sitting in the freezing cold waiting for the post man to pick them up. I cannot carry all the boxes, so I decided to try the "pick up" at home the post office offers. Hopefully it will go well and Basil Bea Dog will not knock the tree over.

Our dog knocked the tree over yesterday.

I came home and she was NOT sitting at the door waiting. This means two things: 1) she's in her crate or 2) she did something wrong, like sitting on the couch, and is hiding in her crate. I walked in and called, "BASIL! I'm home! I brought Pilot Boy!"

Nothing. I walked in to see if she was sitting on the couch like a bad puppy, but all I saw was a mess of pillows. A mess of pillows meant she had a barking fit on the couch and messed them up. She is not supposed to be on the couch when the cover is on it and the pillows are on it. I put the pillows so she couldn't get on the couch, but she recently took to sitting ON the pillows.

Yesterday, though, she had messed the pillows up, knocked a few on the floor. As I walked further into the living room, I noticed the TREE was on the GROUND and the ornaments were ALL OVER THE PLACE.

I went up stairs, dragged Basil out of her crate and brought her downstairs and showed her the tree and couch and said "BAD DOG! YOU ARE A BAD DOG!"

She ran away from me crouching low to the ground and ran into Pilot Boy. He also told her she was a bad girl and then we went about trying to put the tree back together.

She got on the couch at this point and Pilot Boy took her down and she fell flat on her belly when he yelled "BAD DOG!" Her little heart broke when he called her a bad dog. She slunk away and went to give herself a time out in her crate.

We managed to get the tree back up (neither of us are sure how it is standing, as the stand is lame and after Basil knocked it over, its more lame). We cleaned the downstairs at this point because there were fake tree needles all over the place. Basil came down at the sound of the vacuum. She took one look at me, then ran back upstairs and hid for a while. The rest of the day, she looked pathetic when ever she looked at me. After Pilot Boy fed her dinner and we were watching TV, she tried several times to make up with me, but I refused to let her. We had been working hard to stay off the couch, but all the FUR I found on the couch when I cleaned it, told me that when we were gone, SHE WAS ON THE COUCH. There was two weeks worth of fur on the couch. So, now, tragically, Basil Dog doesn't get free roam of the house when we all leave. She will be crated like she was for the first two years of her life. Till she learns to stay off the couch again, she will be crated.

I am not sure when she decided she could sit on that couch, but her cute face got the better of me and I let her stay there for awhile. I've been working for about a month now to get her to stay off that couch (it is only one couch she gets on too). It is not going well. I thought we were getting somewhere, as every time I caught her on there, she jumped off right away. By the time our relatives got here, she was pretty much staying off. I only caught her twice, one time she wasn't on the couch, she was on the pillows. I no longer laugh or smile at her when I catch her. She gets a scolding. I would have simply scolded her if she hadn't KNOCKED THE TREE OVER.

To knock the tree over means she was 1) on the couch and then 2) saw something to bark at and 3) was making such a hissy fit at the window she knocked the tree over and then jumped on the tree to get a better view (that is the only way all the ornaments fell off, she had to knock them off, as they were on there good. Trust me.) Since it is FREEZING here, we keep the window closed except for the part in front of the tree, so she can't really see out too well, unless she is ON THE COUCH. For the last three months, I've been trying to keep her from looking out the window and barking at nothing.

Least to say, not going to well.

Today, she's been in her crate since I got up, except when I made coffee and she came down to see if Pilot Boy's dad had returned (she loves him). Pilot Boy's dad made coffee every morning and I'm pretty sure since I didn't ground coffee before he showed up, she associates that noise with him. He was her buddy while he was here. He fed her, took her outside, and pet her a lot. She LOVES him. She was super excited to see him when they walked into the house. (She is no longer allowed to go for rides with me alone, after trying to KILL ME when I went to get Pilot Boy at the air port at Thanksgiving. She climbed into the front seat and INTO MY LAP TWICE on the drive there and then when we got her seat belt out, she BROKE FREE and LEAPED AROUND THE BACK the whole ride home, barking the whole way. Basil is too big to sit in my lap while I drive. Plus she doesn't sit still, she moves the whole time, making driving hard. So, no more rides alone with me.)

Well, that is all. Hopefully Basil will be a good puppy today. I think she will be, as she knows I'm not her best friend at the moment. Hopefully we will make up and she will be my puppy again. It is now ten, and I ought to get ready to face the day. I figured I'd sew today. I have an itching to sew and make some new bags.

I should be running...

Things that have happened since I last posted:

1. It snowed. A lot.
2. Basil threw up.
3. Pilot Boy smoked a turkey for Thanksgiving.
4. I saw Harry Potter and it was the best movie yet. They should have split all the movies in two.
5. They would make more money that way. I bet they didn't think of that till the end. They suck.
6. Pilot Boy helped me put the tree up the day after Thanksgiving. Or the day after our Thanksgiving. We celebrated at day late because he got lost.
7. I then went to Target on my own and have a Christmas decoration over load.
8. I can light my house inside by Christmas lights becasue I put them all inside and not outside.
9. Have you been outside? It is cold. I'm not hanging lights out there.
10. Basil ruined my Christmas sweater. She and I were no longer friends.
11. I can listen to Christmas music and no one can tell me its too early.
12. All my christmas presents are wrapped. Except one. Which I haven't bought yet.
13. Oh, wait, Pilot Boys presents are still at the store. Don't tell him that.
14. The windows are always forsty when I get up. Its kinda cool. Or cold.
15. I made another batch of Martha cookies. They still do not look like her cookies. I'm not sure how she gets her cookies so flat. Magic?
16. I had a custom order for a purse! It was totally awesome. Even though I had a fight with the purse. I won, btw.
17. Basil loves snow. She has carved out paths to walk in. And poop in. I'm pretty sure she's not clear on the concept of having one spot to poop in.
18. I watched the leak footage of Craig Ferguson's song to the original "Doctor Who" theme. It was AWESOME.
19. Relatives invade tomorrow. I have to clean the house today. For some unknown reason I thought it was Wednesday. Not sure why. Its not like I didn't turn the calender. I did find a clock I forgot to turn back. Hence why I didn't feed Basil or myself till way after seven. I thought it was only after six, people.
20. The sun doesn't fully rise till after 10 am here. Then it is i annoying. Super annoying.

Basil Writes a Post

Hi! I'm Basil Bea Dog. I'd just like to tell you that I LOVE SNOW. It is like the greatest thing on this earth. I am totally serious. It might be better than Yummy Chummies. Or carrots. Though, not better than Turkey. Nothing trumps Turkey.

But it snowed a lot FINALLY. To the point where I can shove my head into it. No one is sure why I do this and I think I'd like to keep it a secret.

But, Alpha Dog let me outside yesterday morning and there was SNOW! And A LOT OF IT! I ran around leaping for joy! Then to make things better, she took me out and PLAYED WITH ME!

IN THE SNOW PEOPLE! IN THE SNOW!

I think we had a lot of fun. I'll share with you some of our fun.

 I found the kong in the yard. It was full of frozen snow goodness!

 It was also fun to run around with it in my mouth. I threw it at Alpha Dog a few times, but she never picked it up and ran around with it. She just doesn't get it.

 She fails to realize the fun you can have carrying things around in ones mouth. I mean, that is how I carry everything. She never carries things in her mouth. Except pins. I'm not sure why she does that.

Alpha dog likes to throw snow at me. She threw a snow ball at me there. I kinda wish I could throw a snow ball at her, but all I can do is jump on her with my snowy paws and make her wet. She doesn't seem to like that, but oh well.

Well, all, that was our play session in the snow. Today she only came outside for a few minutes and followed me around for a while till I went potty. She then went back inside, after telling me she didn't have any socks on. She had boots on. I hate boots. She told me I might have to wear my boots again if I didn't let her wipe my feet off. I let her wipe my feet off. I hate those boots.

And those dumb coats. I hate those too. I haven't seen those yet...I hope they do not make an appearance. Maybe I should stop shedding so much?

Love you!
Basil Bea Dog. (BARK BARK BARK)

Total Winter Wonderland

It snowed on my birthday. I don't think its ever snowed on my birth date before in the location I have been located to celebrate it. But it snowed, like a real good snow fall.

And I shoveled it.

And then it snowed again.

And again.

Today, while waiting for the sun to show itself in the cloudy sky, i realized my back yard tree (the one I hate almost with as much flaming passion as the tree in the front), looks like it needs to be on the front of a Christmas card. The trees in other people's back yards look similar. The tree looked like this when we first moved in (granted it was burried in at least two feet of snow), but I loved the tree then. It was not till I began mowing the lawn in the spring did I grow to hate the tree.

How can I hate a tree? Easy, it attacks me. I am serious. I always looked horrible after mowing the lawn due to my battle with the trees. The tree in the front always bashed me in the head with its branches as I tried to mow under it. The tree in the back yard pulled my hair, threw bugs on me, threw leaves and other things on me and scratched me numerous times. Thus, I hate the tree. Both of them actually. Then, after beating me up all summer, they lost their leaves. SLOWLY. But they had so many leaves. I was not sure where the tree in the front got so many fracking leaves. Two WEEKS. TWO FREAKING WEEKS of raking and FOUR TRASH BAGS EACH WEEK. SERIOUSLY.

WE never raked the back yard. By the time we did the first week of raking, we gave up on the back yard. Pilot Boy mowed it, but then the next week, we just stared at the pile and told Basil Bea to go have fun.

Basil refuses to use the yard for fun unless it is covered in snow. She is my snow puppy and I love her. She ran at least a mile in the yard yesterday while I was out trying to clear the deck. Round and round Basil Bea flew, snow flying everywhere. She loves snow. What this poor snow loving dog was doing in Texas is beyond me. She hated Texas. She loves snow and cold.

Cranky Post

I'll start off by being honest: I am not a huge fan of Halloween.

I never really was. As a kid, I did not do the whole costume and trick-or-treat thing till I was about maybe four, when I was in preschool and lived on a block full of kids. And I don't think my mother ever took me trick-or-treating. She might have, but I do not remember it. Other kids moms took me trick-or-treating, or as I got older, I just went with a group. I do not honestly remember having fun. I mostly remember I never was something I deemed "cool" for Halloween. The last time I had an actual costume, I was Kirsten the American Girl Doll. It was an elaborate costume my mother made and I do not honestly think I appreciated it too much. I never did. But I was always cute. Everyone always told me I was cute. Well, except the year I was Bonny from Bonny and Clyde. No one knew who I was that year. That was the first year my mother did not sew me a costume, as she spent most of her time on my brother's and neither of us knew what to do with me. After the fifth grade Kirsten costume, I never had another costume made for me. I never bought one or made one. In sixth grade, I did not dress up and everyone thought I was strange. So I came home and spray painted my hair pink.

The last time I went trick-or-treating was in sixth grade. I only went because a girl in my class showed up at my door by herself and said, "Hey! Come with me!"

My mother (who believed that I was too old to trick-or-treat) actually pushed me out the door.

And that was the last time I went trick-or-treating. I spent most Halloweens hiding in the family room or my bedroom, as kids from my school hit up our block because it was the place to trick-or-treat. In high school, I started answering the door again and my senior year, I did put candy in pillow cases of people in classes with me, but they failed to realize who I was. Except one guy, who always seemed to know who I was, even when I was hiding.

Then I went to college and dressed up only one time. I was Buffy. I had a white dress and a leather jacket and clunky knee high boots. I also had blonde hair and a lot of cross necklaces. So, because I never had the guts to wear that sort of outfit on a daily basis, I wore it for Halloween and said I was Buffy. After that, I never dressed up again. I would wear orange or black, but I never dressed up as someone. My senior year of college, I was going to dress up as Rory Gilmore, but the plaid school girl skirt I had, was WAY too short, so I just wore a brown skirt and a orange sweater. I think I told my friends I was college Rory, but I was dressed in an outfit I would have worn on any day.

Since I got married, I have never been in a place that get trick-or-treaters (or been home). The first time, we were on our honeymoon on Halloween. The second time, we lived in the Dirt Hole and no one rang our bell before we walked down the empty street to our friends out, where she got maybe three people while we were there. Last year, I was in the middle of nowhere OK and missed Halloween at home. Basil Bea was locked away in a room upstairs, but still barked and wined. This year, I cannot find out ANYWHERE what time tirck-or-treating is. It is not listed anywhere online. None of the news stations have it anywhere on their web sites. It is a secret.

I don't have any candy. I have no idea what time the events are, so why would I have candy? (It was one of those things where I got mad and thus decided I wasn't going to take part.) Plus, Basil hates doorbells. Then, I'm not that crazy about Halloween myself. I do not care if other people take part, but just don't make me. I'm like the Scrooge of Halloween.