The Zoo

If you're a native Texan, then it's written in the contract (and possibly on your birth certificate) you gotta have a few of these on the wall. The cabana is looking mighty fine since our African critters joined the herd last week.

SKUNK!

Ollie and Pepper have finally given up on a backyard romp and flopped down on the floor of the master bedroom. They've been penned up in there all day, poor things, but it's for their safety since we have workers in the house and a rabid mammal on the loose.

This morning, my mother called to say she had spied a skunk out her kitchen window in the guesthouse that faces our property line's back fence. It was turning in tight circles, staggering and falling on occasion. It worked its way from the back of the lot to near the cabana over the course of about 10-12 minutes with this same behavior. If it wasn't rabid, then it was obviously very ill. My vote is rabies. I raced to get my mobile phone and call our city's dispatch so we could have either the police or animal control come take a look. Giving it wide berth due to its erratic behavior, plus the fact that it's armed and loaded with the stink spray, it climbed through the fence and into the neighbor's wood pile behind a screen of bamboo so I couldn't track it very well.

About ten minutes later, the police arrived. With a six foot pole that had a looped noose rope on the end. Seriously. I was curious to see how the hell that was gonna work if they found it, from a safe distance, of course. So we scoured our yard and the neighbors for the danged skunk and couldn't locate it. 

Just to be on the safe side, I texted a couple other neighbors who have outside dogs to give them a heads up. The poor skunk seemed so ill and out of it that I hope it was near the end and it has now holed up somewhere to die. The last thing we need is for our fat, sassy and large squirrel population to get rabies because the dogs are always chasing after them in the yard.

I found this video on You Tube and it was the same behavior I witnessed this morning, only more pronounced and with a lot of staggering. 

I'll admit it, this was pretty much my reaction... S-K-U-N-K!

That kinda cheer mom

With junior year wrapping up and me writing a check for summer cheer camp last week, it's time to look for a new spirit shirt to rep. I was seeing the usual cutesy numbers in glitter with the poms and megaphones and toe touch silhouettes on Etsy and then ran across this one below. If the daughter attended a public district, I wouldn't hesitate. But I figure the teen's private religiously-affiliated school would frown on this shirt with attitude, even if I could get it done in school colors with some glitter and a pom pom thrown in just to pep it up a bit.

March (Semi) Madness

The husband finally did it. After thinking and looking, reading reviews and watching videos about vehicles for the past six months, he finally made a decision and bought a Jeep. Which has folks wondering if Mr. Mild Mannered is headed into a mid-life crisis because he's about to turn 50. But nah, that's definitely not the case with my guy. It's just a cool ride that the whole family can enjoy. And I gotta admit, it's good looking with the dark gray and red color scheme. 

During the second half of spring break week, I took my CASA kids to a local wildlife touring park, the sort where you drive through to gawk at all of the exotic critters and throw animal food out of the car window to see how close they'll get to the vehicle. In the past, we've had buffalos try to stick their heads in the window and ostriches test the paint job on the hood with beak jabs, their version of GIVE US THE FOOD NOW. This time the crowds were so thick and the animals so well-fed that we didn't have any close encounters. The very attractive fellow below was one of my favorites. Like all good redneck Texans, I'm thinking I'd like to have one of these on the trophy room wall out in the cabana.

The husband and I recently took a stroll down my high school memory lane when I was about the same age as our youngest daughter, working at the local Dairy Queen in our tiny Texas town with one traffic light. It's not good for me at my age, but I sure did enjoy the country basket. The store's location isn't terribly convenient to our house, which is probably a good thing. We don't need to try and work any more fried foods or ice cream treats into our eating plan.

I swear I'm gonna sell this little devil dog to the canine circus if she doesn't knock it off with the foraging. This morning I caught her eating a piece of dirt from the husband's sneakers off the floor in the office. Yesterday afternoon, she was licking freshly dropped bird poop off the slate on our patio. But then I look at this face and forgive her the naughtiness.

The 11th grader just began the fourth quarter of junior year, but we've already started the first of the lasts when she was assigned her cheer uniforms for the final time. Try outs were the week before spring break and the squad is already set for 2018-19, her senior year. Now that we're racing towards that milestone and I'm beginning to realize an empty nest is just around the bend, I'd like for time to slow down so we can enjoy the second and last chick's final year of high school before she heads out for college. 

The teen being a teen

I've often said our younger daughter is an old soul, a 35-yr-old trapped in the body of a teenager. She has always been very mature and typically serious, ready to leave behind high school for college right after 9th grade. But then I get a text like this, reminding me she's like every other teenaged girl on the planet.

When we were staying at this really cute boutique hotel across the street from Clemson, the teen went downstairs to work out. She was told by the front desk that she could have a pass to the campus rec center to use their equipment since it was a short walk up the block. So the teen struck out and found the place. That's when I received the above text. It seems she was verrrrrry impressed with what she saw! I was relating this to a friend with a teen daughter and she said, "Run her over to the science buildings, stat!" Or maybe the library, for a dose of reality about the college guys?

Our next stops on the southeast college tour will be in Athens and Auburn over the long Easter weekend. The teen says all of her top college choices must have a football team, not because she adores the sport but rather that it means there will be some great tailgating every fall semester. It's all about priorities, y'all.

Spring Break College Touring

It was a quick trip, leaving Saturday after the SAT and arriving home Tuesday night, but it was very fruitful. The 17 yr old has now confirmed her initial preference for a mid-sized state school over a small private school option. 

All of the campuses we visited were lovely in their own way. There were lots of buildings made of red brick with white columns since we were in the south. Historic domes, homes and bell towers with carillons ringing were some of the architectural and musical highlights of the tour.

The admissions staff were welcoming and the tour guides were entertaining everywhere we went. You just can't beat southern hospitality.

We barely escaped this Monday morning, where the grad student lives...

To sit in a lot of this...

But things like this totally made up for it.

A lovely bonus was that we got to have two meals on Sunday with the grad student daughter at Wake Forest, in-between driving and touring. In the rain. And damp, chilly wind. But we were troopers and forged ahead. I had checked the forecast and armed up with some nice new bumbershoots in our checked bag, so we were all set to stay as dry as possible on our campus treks.

Traveling with the vegan teenager means we have to scour cities in advance to find the "right" place to eat that offers the no meat, no dairy options for her. 

There is no deviating from this. Ever. Though she lets me eat like a "heathen" at places with drive-thru windows where they serve yummy things like spicy breaded chicken breasts on a biscuit drizzled with honey. And a Diet Dr. Pepper to wash it down. Gotta watch those calories. She even lets me go inside sometimes when she needs to take a bathroom break. The teenager is just too good to me.

We ended our last night with a trip to the local Publix grocery store in Clemson, South Carolina, where I was ogling the bakery goods while she was gathering up some oranges and kombucha for breakfast the next day.

The college touring continues at the end of this month with a trip to Atlanta so we can hit a couple more places on her must-see list for fall college app consideration. Grab the checkbook, daddy-o, because it looks like we'll definitely be paying out-of-state tuition when the second chickadee fledges the nest in August 2019.

I loathe leaf season

If I didn't have OCD tendencies, I don't think the leaves would bother me much. But great balls of fire, the spring oak leaf drop is enough to make me lose my mind. I'm working on the pool and patio area at least three times per day, using the leaf blower and pool tools to try and combat the sheer volume of last year's oak leaves making way for the spring bud. Emptying the skimmer that's full to overflowing with leaves, in addition to the Polaris bag that looks like an overstuffed leaf sausage, wielding the net and working up a sweat is my glamorous life these days.

Less than a week ago, this whole fountain area was mostly devoid of leaves because my yard guys were here and dealt with them. This is what has accumulated over the past five days.

The wind blows and leaves flutter from the branches to the ground like snow. Leaf blizzards, y'all. Because of the OCD and my inability to tolerate messy clutter, that means I'm out dealing with the leaves that have collected in both the pool and fountain morning, noon and (almost) night. These wretched leaves are doing their best to clog the pool's skimmer and fountain's pump, attempting to make me throw more cash at our very own money pit since these things would probably burn up and break down without my hawk-eyed vigilance and dogged refusal to concede victory to the mess-making leaves.

Once I've survived this year's leaf season, I imagine I'll invest in some sort of pool netting to cover it next year in order to keep my sanity.

Git along little doggies... to the groomer

Highlight of my week... the dogs getting their spring clips. So what if they look like the love child of a sheared sheep and large rat. I've vacuumed the floor in the family room almost every day this week because Ollie and Pepper get leaves and mulch from the yard caught in their fur and scatter it all over the house. Since yesterday was the first of March and we're moving out of the season for colder temps, I decided to save myself some housecleaning time and get the dogs a fresh haircut.

You can see in the pics that our spoiled rotten varmints are enjoying the treats (some frou frou organic dog bone thingy I only buy every blue moon even though they love them) I gave them after they got home from the groomer. I take them to this specialty dog boutique place that has the cute but really overpriced stuff because it's closet to our house and I can usually get them in at the last minute when I just can't stand the doggy stench another day. And the grooming prices are actually very reasonable. But now that they have their shorter coats, I'll be able to wash them at home, so it will save me money in the long run. 

With some nice weather the second half of the week, mother and I have been chatting on the patio in the late afternoon while the dogs get some exercise in the yard. You can see her old pugzillas in the pic above. Pugs on the Patio. That sounds like a great title for a kiddie lit book. But the content... licking each others genitals and eating dried bird poop off the slate, then throwing up later that evening. Plus mother hollering at them to stop while threatening a beat down. I'm not sure how I'd spin that to make it PC enough for the elementary crowd.