Since November... Really?

Today is February 1st, and is it possible that I haven't posted since November? I am such a bad blogger. Non-existent blogger, really. :sigh:

I've been working a lot, and Facebook seems to take up what time I have on the computer. Facebook, and Pinterest. Love Pinterest. Seriously, if you want to waste a perfectly good hour or two, go to Pinterest. Need an invite? Let me know and I'll send you one.

Anyway, lots of stuff has been happening around Britknitterville. Remember Stevie Wonder from this post?



He was such a friendly little guy. (Notice the use of past tense? You know where this is going, don't you?) He always greeted me when I brought him his food. Well, one Sunday morning as I was getting ready to go to work at Glitter World, he didn't greet me. I was running late, and figured he was just being a lazy mouse. When I got home from work, his food was still in his bowl. Not a good sign. I found him curled up in a little ball. He had departed this world and gone to that great mouse wheel in the sky. I felt like crap going off to work without making sure he was ok. What would I have done if he was still alive, though. Take him to the vet? I don't know. Anyway, I placed him in his little wicker mouse nest with lots of cotton and wood chips and buried him under the dogwood tree. RIP, Stevie Wonder. Now I just have Carlos Ruiz, and I never see him at all. He waits until I leave the room before coming out to get his food or water. If I want to have a look at him, I have to leave the room and shut the door, then peek through the curtain to watch him come out from under the wood chips. If I open the door again, he dives for the chips. Did I mention Carlos is a biter? He is. :sigh:

Oh, and remember the stray dog that wandered into that yard from this post?



I named him Russell, for obvious reasons. Well, he got away from his owner again, and found his way back to Britknitterville. Only this time, there was a casualty. Hanna.



Yep, Russell got into the garage (through the cat door) and couldn't get back out. While he was in there, he killed Hanna. Feathers everywhere. I know he's a dog and it's instinct, but it's hard not to be mad at Russell for killing such a sweet chicken. Russell's owner offered to buy us another chicken. Seriously? :sigh:

Speaking of dogs and people who should make sure that they are secure, those of you who follow me on Facebook know that my niece Michelle's dog Luna got away from her while she was walking through the woods near her house. It is my absolute worst nightmare, that one of my babes should get loose. There is nothing like the feeling of walking into your vet's office and seeing a "Lost Dog" poster, and knowing that dog.



Eleven days she was gone. There were literally hundreds of flyers all over the area, and I frankly gave up hope after day seven. Fortunately, a local farmer (who had been allowing Luna's searchers to tramp through his fields and woods) spotted her, called my niece, and followed Luna until Michelle arrived and caught the escape artist.



This is Michelle and Luna later that afternoon. See, this post isn't all bad news!

Now, this bit is especially for Golden Gracie's mom in Chicago. There is a man who lives near Fortescue with eight beautiful Golden Retrievers. It's a rare thing to see one person with eight big dogs (except for Sue and her pack of ten dogs... Happy Birthday, Sue!), but when you see those eight dogs fishing on the beach, now that's a sight to be seen!


Here they are, all calmly watching their daddy fish off the beach.


They are all on leashes and are tied to a pole holder in the sand. They are all perfectly well behaved, and stay there for hours watching the sea birds and enjoying the sunshine. What a life!

I have to go and get ready for work now. I'll do my best to post again before another three months go by!

Another bite.

First things first... Happy Thanksgiving to all! Yes, I know it's not until tomorrow, but I am working tomorrow, and don't know if I will get a chance to blog.

Yes, that's right. I am working. On Thanksgiving. Glitter World is open, so I will be putting on my happy face and ringing up tons of glitter-covered-crap that people just can't live without and feel the need to buy on Thanksgiving Day. It's not so bad, really. It's just another thing to be thankful for, right? A job. Two jobs, actually. So many people would be thrilled to be working tomorrow, or any day at all, that I don't feel as though I can complain about working. At least I don't have to cook a Thanksgiving meal. Cracker Barrel, here we come! Yet another thing to be thankful for!

What else am I thankful for? Emma, Tara and Cooper, of course. Although they have their cute little noses out of joint because their little mousey brothers Stevie and Carlos got their pictures in the last blog post. Was there a single picture of the dogs? Nope. Sure, the dogs were mentioned in passing, but apparently that wasn't sufficient, and their egos have taken a hit. So, without further ado, I give you (drumroll, please)...

Cooper, Emma and Tara!


I wanted to get a picture of them doing something cute, but this is what they do 99% of the time. This photo is unusual in that all three babes are in one photo--a rare occurrence! I am so thankful that they are happy and healthy, particularly as Cooper and Emma would technically qualify as "seniors", although both can still act very much like puppies on occasion.

Here is another picture of the babes from today when I ran home from work to let then out at lunchtime.



That's Tara and Cooper. (Emma was camera shy.) It was raining, and Tara and Cooper hate getting their feet wet. I was standing out in the rain, getting soaked, cajoling and pleading with them to "come down and do pee pees". They are doing their best to ignore me. Notice the closed eyes... It kills me that the think that if they can't see me, I can't see them. Silly babes.

At the risk of doggie overload, here is a picture of Cooper and Tara from last week.


The chicken on the gate? That's Hanna. She is (or was) the neighbor's chicken. She has been living here for a couple of years. Notice Emma is not in this picture. She's afraid of Hanna. I know, I know... a bird dog who is afraid of a chicken. My dad says I have single-handedly ruined the breed by coddling my sweet babes.

Anyway, Cooper quickly lost interest, but not Tara. She and Hanna had a standoff, and I was about to be late for work.


The only thing I could do was "shoooo" Hanna off the gate.



Oh my, look at that ugly scar on my hand... We'll come back to that later.

Hanna decided she didn't want to be "shoooo'd" and found somewhere else to perch. On me.


She stayed on my arm until I walked to the woods and found a tree limb for her to perch on. Silly bird.

Back to the scar...

Ugly, isn't it? It's about six weeks old now, so it's actually looking a LOT better than it did. How did I get it? Another bite. It was more like a rip, really. My sister and I were on the beach at Fortescue, and a woman down the beach was fishing, and a seagull got caught in her fishing line. How? I have no idea. I've never seen that happen before.

Of course, I go running down the beach to lend a hand, and the seagull bites the hand that frees it! It wasn't his fault, though. The poor thing was terrified. The fishing line was wrapped around both wings and both feet. Between the three of us we managed to get him free and he flew away (thank-you-baby-jesus) leaving nothing but three happy women, and some blood on the beach. My blood, not his.

Fortunately, the seagull was not harmed in any way.

Fortunately, I now have a house a Fortescue, so was able to go and wash the wound with antibacterial soap & wrap it up.

Fortunately, I recently had a tetanus shot, (you know... from the mouse bites) so I feel protected from any heebie jeebies that seagulls might carry.

Unfortunately, I have an ugly scar, despite the use of Vitamin E cream.

Unfortunately, seagulls creep me out now. This is what I imagine every seagull is saying to me:



Unfortunately, the seagull incident was not the end of my adventures that day...

Stay tuned for another bite. Literally.