This postcard just makes me want to get on a plane and head south to Florida immediately!  Its in the 40’s today and the wind is blowing!

My investigating has turned up a bit of information on this linen postcard – it is part of a series called “Glamour Girls,” and from the WWII-era (1940’s).  This particular card is unused and very good condition.   I have a few more in this series, all of which make me want to start a diet, and head to the gym to work on my glutes and quadriceps!

Posted in 1940s, french factrice, linen postcard Tagged: 1940s, french factrice, glamour girls, linen postcard, pinups, vintage postcard ]]> http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/11/27/glamour-girl-pin-up-post-card-beach-combers-1940s/feed/ 6 twobarkingdogs scan0021 http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/11/24/the-vcr-is-broken-and-i-cant-cook-without-it-and-its-all-your-fault/ http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/11/24/the-vcr-is-broken-and-i-cant-cook-without-it-and-its-all-your-fault/#comments Tue, 24 Nov 2009 14:33:58 +0000 twobarkingdogs http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/?p=2620 ]]>

For as many years as I can remember, my sister and then brother-in-law loaded up the kids and came to our parents’ for the holidays.  Way back in the mid-1980’s, my sister decided that she wanted to make Thanksgiving dinner at home, and that they wouldn’t be coming to the folks’ house that year.  No big deal.  Except, back then, Sister couldn’t cook very well.

I gave her a “How to Cook Thanksgiving” cooking tape for her birthday that year.  The tape came with a small cookbook, and was about an hour long.  Sister watched that video from June to November, and a few days before Thanksgiving, she did the shopping for all of the items needed to make dinner.  Turkey, oysters for the stuffing (yuck), creamed carrots, yeast rolls, etc.  She called me in a panic when she couldn’t find any “unbleached muslin fabric” that the turkey just had to be covered in.  Apparently, after stuffing the turkey with oysters and cornbread, you trussed it, and slathered about two pounds of butter all over the skin, and then wrapped it tightly in muslin.  I told her that I didn’t think it made that much difference since mom never used muslin to cover the turkey, but she was adamant that she wasn’t going to deviate from the program.  Not one little bit.  It was all, or nothing!

So, Thanksgiving day arrives.  Sister has all of the ingredients lined up on the counter, and is ready to get started on cooking dinner.  She moved the TV into the dining room so she could see it from the kitchen, hooked up the VCR, popped in the video tape, and hit play.  Nothing.  Dead as a doornail.  Not working.  Pffft.

Sister calls my parents, and I answered the phone to hear “OH MY GOD. THE VCR IS BROKEN AND I CAN’T COOK THANKSGIVING DINNER.”  OK.  Seriously, take a deep breath, and start all over again.  “OH MY GOD.  THE VCR IS BROKEN AND I CAN’T COOK DINNER.”  I tried to make a joke and remind her that you don’t roast the turkey in the VCR but in the oven.  All she could yell was, “SMART ASS!  THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!  If you hadn’t given me that DAMNED video, we would be at mom and dad’s having a great dinner!

I am pretty sure they ate at KFC that night.

Again, a found photo with no further information other than it came from a group of photos that came from Michigan & Wisconsin.  I’m guessing at the date, and taking a wide guess as coming from the 1950’s, again based upon the dates on the other photos that came in the same batch.

I have been fishing in my life, but having grown up in Florida, my experiences were very different from this one!  I really can’t imagine why anyone would do this on purpose, but these guys do look happy in a frigid, frost-bitten way.  Maybe they’re out looking for a suitable fish to make into Lutefisk?  (Hint: If ever offered Lutefisk, just say “thanks, but no thanks.”)

What is Lutefisk you ask? Here’s what Wikipedia has to say:

Lutefisk is made from dried whitefish (normally cod, but ling is also used), prepared with lye, in a sequence of particular treatments. The watering steps of these treatments differ slightly for salted/dried whitefish because of its high salt content.

The first treatment is to soak the stockfish in cold water for five to six days (with the water changed daily). The saturated stockfish is then soaked in an unchanged solution of cold water and lye for an additional two days. The fish swells during this soaking and its protein content decreases by more than 50 percent, producing its famous jelly-like consistency. When this treatment is finished, the fish (saturated with lye) has a pH value of 11–12, and is therefore caustic. To make the fish edible, a final treatment of yet another four to six days of soaking in cold water (also changed daily) is needed. Eventually, the lutefisk is ready to be cooked.

In Finland, the traditional reagent used is birch ash. It contains high amounts of potassium carbonate and hydrocarbonate, giving the fish a more mellow treatment than would sodium hydroxide (lyestone). It is important to not incubate the fish too long in the lye, because saponification of the fish fats may occur, effectively rendering the fish fats into soap. The term for such spoiled fish in Finnish is saippuakala (soap fish).

Can you say yuck?  Kind of puts a whole new spin on sitting out in the freezing cold and hoping that a fish doesn’t grab the line!

I like it. It is comfortable and looks good in my living room with the new paint scheme.  (Photo pilfered from the store’s web page.)  When they delivered it on Thursday, I had the dogs upstairs to keep them out of the way.  The delivery guys were here for all total 15 minutes, and when they left, I let the dogs back downstairs.  Cosmo wanted “out” so he could kill the dead shrubs just a little bit more.  When he came back in, he drank half a bowl of water in his usual sloppy way.  Slurp, slurp, drip, slobber.  I went into the living room and watched in disbelief as Cosmo, all sloppy and wet faced, walked over and rubbed his face down the front of the couch.

I love my dogs, I love my dogs, I love my dogs …

Last night, Clover whinged as she got up off the floor.  When I called her over to me, I gave her a good rub down/massage to see if I could tell what was bothering her.  She seems to be favoring her left shoulder, and for the life of me I can’t imagine why.  Did she fall down the stairs when I wasn’t looking? or maybe Cosmo body slammed her just a little bit too hard when they were playing?  Whatever the cause, she is sore and miserable, and very very needy at the moment.

I spoke to the vet on the phone, who reminded me that she’s 8 years old and she might have a touch of arthritis.  All of a sudden, just like that?  At the vet’s direction, I gave Clover 325 mg of buffered aspirin.  Hopefully, this will take the edge off for her, because as it is right now, she won’t go up or down the stairs and is sound asleep on the floor in the TV room upstairs.  If she thinks I am going to carry her down the stairs … she’s got another think coming!  The vet said she would call me tomorrow to check on Clover, and if she’s not better, then I’ll be bringing her in for a visit on Monday.  Crap.  Why do I see my big screen HD tv flying out the window, and in its place a well vetted Labrador Retriever with MRIs and x-rays in its stead?  Crap.

I was up and out of the house by 8:00 am this morning.  I got all of my Thanksgiving food shopping done, and was home by 11:00 am.  I love Wegmans!  They have a great de-boned honey brined turkey breast that is wonderful, so in the basket it went with a bunch of vegetables and other necessities.  It wasn’t until I got home and put everything away that I realized that Thanksgiving is the week AFTER next, not this coming Thursday.  Crap.  The turkey breast will be ok in the freezer for a few days, but I guess I will have to eat the pumpkin pie right away.  I’m SURE it won’t stay fresh until Thanksgiving.

I see the neurologist again on the 23rd of November.  I’m not wobbling as much as I was, but I can’t seem to rid myself of some other symptoms.  The latest?  My tongue feels numb around the edges, I have the shakes and tremors from time-to-time, and the vertigo is back.  I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing Boris again before Christmas! Check in with me next week, I’ll undoubtedly have something new to report, because as you know, You Just Can’t Make This Crap Up!

Oh, yeah, almost forgot.  Its still raining.

One of the things I like the most about postcards is researching something about the subject or era.  When I came across this one, I thought about the times I have driven my own car along Daytona Beach, however, never at the speeds these men raced.   I also grumbled under my breath about having my 1977 Pontiac Firebird towed off the beach when I wasn’t looking! Racing on the beach at Daytona stopped in 1958.   I’m not totally sure of the date of this postcard.  The subjects, however, are from the 1920’s to 1930’s.

A little bit of background,

• Over his 25 year racing career, Sir Malcolm Campbell broke the world Land Speed Record nine times, five of those were in Daytona Beach between 1928 and 1935.  Racers have long been attracted to Daytona Beach, originally racing along the wide flat sand beaches on the East Coast of Florida.  Sir Malcolm’s most famous run at Daytona was in 1935 when he drove Blue Bird V, a supercharged V-12 (Rolls Royce engine) vehicle at a speed of 276.82 mph.  His futuristic designs are said to have influenced modern car designers.  Can anyone say Batmobile?
• In March 1927, Sir Henry O’Neal de Hane Segrave drove his Mystery Sunbeam across the sands of Daytona Beach at the never before heard of speed of 203.79 mph.  This was the fastest any human had ever travelled on land!  Sir Henry later set a new land speed record of 231.36 miles an hour at Daytona Beach on March 11, 1929 with the Golden Arrow.
• The White Triplex was driven by Ray Keech and on April 22, 1928, Keech set a new land speed record of 207.55 mph at Daytona.  This simple vehicle had no clutch or gearbox, and once it was given a push start, it had to keep rolling in order to keep running.

This is a video of Sir Malcolm Campbell in the Bluebird on the sands of Daytona Beach.

This is the one and only cat that I ever had as a pet. I got her from a pet store in West Palm Beach in 1978 where she was a tiny little kitty in a crate with her litter mates.  I didn’t go into the pet store specifically to get a new pet, I just went to “look.”  There was this crate with 5 or 6 kittens, and on top of the crate was a glass terrarium filled with little white mice.  All of the kittens were sound asleep except for one.   Picture this little kitten trying to figure out a way to get at the mice!  I felt so sad for her, and decided on the spot that I was taking her home.

Baby was a great cat.  She liked to play fetch, and she had a real thing for pickle relish, cantaloupe melon, and beef jerky.  She only ate 9 Lives Chicken and Cheese and God help anyone that decided that changing up her food was a good idea.  Eleven years of Chicken and Cheese made her very happy.

That is Mr. Moe on the left, and me on the right, c. 1960-ish.  Mr. Moe was made from an old pair of my dad’s pants, an old shirt, both stuffed with scrunched up newspaper, a plastic pumpkin for his head, an old hat, corncob pipe, and great-grandpa’s old bamboo cane.  I don’t know where the idea of Mr. Moe came from, but he was a Halloween prop for many years, right up there with carved pumpkin, and lots of candy for trick-or-treaters.

I think I’ll make a Mr. Moe this year.  I just hope the neighborhood kids don’t set him on fire or kick the stuffing out of him.

On the lower left front of the streetcar, it is marked “Dodge Sedan,” and on the back of the photo it is marked “March 1934.”  That’s it.  No further information.  No idea where the photo was taken, and believe me I’ve done some major “googling.”   I like the composition of this photo, the grainy, dirty, and the cold wintry street.  It makes me want to pack my bags and head back to Florida.

Let me say first off that this is a true story.  It happened many years ago, and has become one of those family stories that gets retold almost every year on Thanksgiving.

My mom cooked the Thanksgiving turkey early in the day, and the plan was that we would go visit friends across town, and come back for dinner about 45 minutes  later.  So, when the turkey was done, mom covered it in aluminum foil, put the covered pan on the kitchen counter next to the oven, and off we went.  My parents, my younger sister, and me.  Left home alone was one 22 pound Butterball turkey, all the makings for gravy, and vegetables that would only need to be reheated when we got home for dinner.  Oh, yea, did I forget to mention that the dogs were left home, too?

Cleo and Kissy were mother and daughter.  They were both black poodles and weighed in at about 20-25 lbs.  They were nice dogs, and both of them absolutely loved my mother.  They tolerated the rest of the world.  They would attack my dad anytime he got in or out of bed, and while they weren’t terribly destructive dogs, I know for a fact that Cleo used to do things out of spite.  Leave me home and go out to have fun without me?  I think I’ll dig a hole in your mattress.  Stay out all day and ignore me on the weekend?  Well, I think I’ll just destroy every pillow in the house so that when you go to vacuum up the mess you burn up two vacuum motors.

I think you can see where this is going.  Our kitchen in the house where I grew up was early-1960’s Florida turquoise, and if you were an agile French Poodle, you could jump on the kitchen chair, on to the kitchen table and counters, walk across the kitchen counters, dodge the double sinks, and voila! You would find yourself right there on the counter next to the oven.  The very special place where a 22 pound Butterball was relaxing under its shiny aluminum foil hat.

When we got home from our visit, imagine the surprise on everyone’s face when upon entering the kitchen, Tom Turkey was lying on the kitchen floor partially eaten and partially destroyed!  My mom started yelling.  My dad started laughing.  And two little black dogs went running for cover under the couch in the family room.

After everything was cleaned up, Tom Turkey’s remains discarded, and we sat down to a dinner of vegetables.  No gravy for the potatoes since the dogs had eaten the giblets, too.  If you could ask my dad, he would tell you that it was probably the best Thanksgiving dinner he ever had.  He likes the veggies the most, and was probably cheering on the dogs for their ingenious behavior.   That was of course, until the turkey, and grease, and giblets hit the dogs straight in the gut.  I won’t describe what followed for the next couple of days except to say that it involved a lot of paper towels, Lysol disinfectant, and more yelling by my mother.

So.  The morals of this story?

• Don’t leave your cooked turkey dinner unattended in a house with a dog;
• If you do leave your turkey dinner unattended, make backup plans for dinner;
• It is always wise to have Pine-Sol or Lysol, paper towels, and a strong constitution on hand if you have mischievous dogs.

The culprits:

Posted in dog behavior, poodles, thanksgiving dinner ]]> http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/10/16/stuff-dogs-like-thankgsiving-dinner/feed/ 5 twobarkingdogs scan0068 http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/10/13/weekly-vintage-square-shared-sitting-on-the-bumper-virginia-1939/ http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/10/13/weekly-vintage-square-shared-sitting-on-the-bumper-virginia-1939/#comments Tue, 13 Oct 2009 04:35:41 +0000 twobarkingdogs http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/?p=2542 ]]>

I really like this photo — the look of innocence on the young girl’s face, hands folded neatly in her lap, ankles crossed, knees together; the look of slight impatience on the young man’s face with his slicked-back hair and big ears.  Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? Or, brother and sister?  Who took the picture? Mom? or Dad?  The only thing I know for sure is that the license plate reads Virginia – 1939.  There’s a very pretty rose arbor, white picket fence, and is that a Coca-Cola sign over there on the building behind the car (left)?  Another time, unknown people,  in an unknown place.  Very Capraesque.

I have a collection of vintage photos and post cards, and for a while I was posting them on another blog called “Daily Vintage Square.”  It all got to be a bit too much keeping track of two blogs, then another third photography blog, and then another personal journal.  Yikes! Talk about overextending to the point that everything suffered neglect.

I really like vintage photos, and they make me wonder about the people, places, and things from long ago.  I love the old styles, hairdos, smart looking cars, and furry little critters.  So, starting today, I’m going to post a vintage photo here once a week on Tuesdays.  The photos and postcards might be something that you already saw on the other blog if you were checking it out back then, but bear with me.  This might be more fun!

Here’s the twist: instead of posting the photo for all to look at and move on, I think it would be fun to make conjecture and wonder out loud.  Everyone is invited to comment, make up a story, wonder out loud either by leaving a comment here, or cross-posting on your own blog.  Feel free to copy the photos to your own blog with a mention to Two Barking Dogs.

If I know anything definite about a photo like a name, date or place, I’ll share it with you.  For instance, this photo was from a collection that I bought on eBay and came from California.

Originally, I liked this photo because of the shadows that the pine trees project onto the little bungalow in the background.  Now, looking at this lady’s face, and her clothing, I wonder if she was on her way out for a night on the town?  One of my grandmothers used to have a fox stole like that one, and it creeped me out as a little kid.  Can you imagine wearing a stole like this in public today?  I love this lady’s smile – she seems so relaxed and happy.

My ideas?

Her name is Gladys.  She moved to California 10 years previously from Chicago or Milwaukee.  She drinks sloe gin fizzes, and she cheats when she plays gin with her next door neighbors.  She has two small yappy dogs, and she likes to sit on the front porch in the evenings.  She never married, and she likes to go to parties with her girlfriends.  She works as a secretary, and she hates going back to visit family in the mid-west because they don’t understand her, and because she would miss the California weather too much.

I spent the last two weeks in Florida visiting the Old Folks.  It was very hot and very humid.  I didn’t do much of anything except run back and forth to the doctor the first week (nothing fatal, just routine), and the second week? Nothing much that week either.

Clover and Cosmo are readjusting to life in Virginia with the little yard and no Hairy Beast to play with, and I’m doing my own laundry again.  Ah well, reality sets back in.

A couple of highlights from Florida:

• Cosmo escaped the backyard and ran away for all of about 5 minutes.  I was visiting the Old Folks that live next door (my Aunt and Uncle), when my mom called to say that Cosmo was loose and running down the street, and that my 82 year-old -heart patient -recuperating from a hernia operation father was giving chase.  I dashed home and grabbed the car keys, almost ran over the gardener, and headed to the last known spot where father and dog were spotted.  I no sooner turned the corner that I spotted my dad who pointed to Cosmo who was watering the shrubs.  I called him and I could see the wheels turning in his little pea brain … “to run? or not?, that is the question.”  He chose the preferred option and came right over to me when I called him, sat very very still, and waited for me to leash him up.   Smart dog.
• I got to see a Miami Dolphins game on tv.  (Comment:  In the words of Forrest Gump, “That’s all I have to say about that.”)
• I noticed that the car dealerships that have dominated local television advertising for years, have been replaced by advertisers for every weight loss system, supplement, or program ever invented.
• Clover barks more in Florida than she does in Virginia.  A whole lot more.
• My parents are addicted to Fox News Channel.  I know this because, my parents were having a conversation the other day about someone Megyn who just had a baby and that they named it Edward.  It took me 20 questions to figure this one out.
• Both of my parents need hearing aids.
• One of the commercials on tv got my attention was www.whocanisue.com.  Yes. That’s right, “Who Can I Sue . Com“   I have to say that I am still shaking my head over that one.  I checked out the website.  I guess it could be helpful to someone.
• What the hell happened to all of those car dealerships that used to scream at you about the latest greatest model at the best lowest price ever?  Maybe I’ll sue someone to find out.

That’s it for now.  I’m off to watch the Washington Redskins lose to Tampa Bay barely win the game over Tampa Bay.

Back in a couple of weeks …

Courtesy of the Cartoon Blog by Dave Walker

I love this photo.  It is from back when Cosmo was just a puppy.  It always makes me laugh.  Its like Clover is saying, “Hey Cosmo, check this out.  Do you see any squirrels?  Who’s out there?  Let me show you what to bark at, ok?”

Posted in barking, black labs, camera critters, cute puppy, dog behavior, Dogs, labrador retriever, Labrador Retrievers, Pets, photo meme, puppy Tagged: black lab, camera critters, check it out, cosmo and clover, cute puppy, labrador retriever ]]> http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/09/05/hey-little-guy-check-it-out/feed/ 7 twobarkingdogs 100_0062 http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/09/04/road-kill-of-a-different-kind-or-is-that-a-dead-squirrel-or-a-toupe/ http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/09/04/road-kill-of-a-different-kind-or-is-that-a-dead-squirrel-or-a-toupe/#comments Fri, 04 Sep 2009 15:03:08 +0000 twobarkingdogs http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/?p=2490 ]]>

Have you ever wondered about the crap that you see lying along the highway?  Or the trash that you see curbside? Or anywhere else you might pass on a daily basis?

Photo from funnyanimalphoto

I think about these things all the time.

A while back, I pulled into a parking spot at the local grocery store and when I got out of the car, “I spied” a man’s toupé!  It was a blondish-brown, and it looked like fresh road kill.  That’s it.  No explanation as to how it got there.  Just a forlorn toupé. I wonder if the wind blew it off? Or the guy had had enough with gluing his hair to his big old bald head and threw it out the window?  Sadly, we’ll never know.

I am constantly spying things along the highway, too.  Last week, along the Jersey barrier that separates the East- and West-bound lanes of I-66, was a suitcase.  It was a nice suitcase the first day that I saw it, by the end of the week, it was still there, but had been hit, run over, battered and nearly flattened.  A few days after that, the contents were strewn along the barrier.  I feel for the skinny little brat that is missing her pink Victoria’s Secret push-up bra.

Just today, on the way to work, was the local WTOP news reporter, who, in a deadpan voice said something like “Everyone traveling South-bound on I-95, near Exit XYZ, please be aware of debris in the right-hand lane.  There are stuffed toys and doll parts everywhere.”  And, at that point, he just kept reading off the accidents, and work zones around the Beltway.  Seriously! You can’t make this crap up.  Can you imagine the poor non-WTOP listening folk that came upon the scene of toys and doll parts strewn across the highway?  Heart attack city!

When you have dogs, you tend to notice garbage a lot.  I’m always on the lookout for a putrid piece of food that escaped from the garbage can, broken glass, and anything else that my dogs might sniff, lick, or munch down.  Remember, they’re Labrador Retrievers.  They’ll eat anything.

In Scotland a few years ago, Clover and I were out for a walk in what I had thought to be a pretty rural and serene location.  Well, I guess I was right about the serene part because the amount of used condoms that I spotted made me believe we had happened upon the local Lover’s Lane.  Ever try to lecture a dog on the difference between a condom and a balloon?  Yuck.

How about the poor, unsuspecting guy with a pickup truck who has been talked into helping his friend’s brother’s girlfriend move across town.  “Hey, friend, no need to tie anything down, we’re only going a few miles down the road.”  And, at that point, a swift wind comes along and blows half of the truck’s contents onto the highway.  Have you ever seen what an 18-wheeler can do to a king-sized box spring?  It’s not pretty.  And, it wasn’t pretty as I swerved to miss the flattened remains lying in the middle of I-95 either.

But, these are.  You just never know what you’ll spot along the highway. 

When Clover was a puppy and in the process of destroying my home piece by piece, someone at work told me that if I left the radio on for her, the music would “soothe the savage beastie.”  At that point, I decided “what the heck, it can’t hurt.” The first day, I tuned the radio to a classical music station, patted Clover on the head and went to work.  When I got home from work, I was greeted by Clover and a completely shredded telephone book.  Strike the classical music.

I moved to Country & Western.  The results with C&W netted me new holes in the drywall, and a couple of destroyed shoes.  Strike the C&W.  From there, I worked my way through the music choices, all of which provided Clover no comfort at all.  As a matter of fact, I think the music might have even spurred her on in some cases.

Then, I found Talk Radio.  I can’t remember the station that I tuned into, but this genre  seemed to help.  The sound of human voices seemed to have a positive effect on Clover.  It wasn’t a cure-all, but it helped.

Now, fast forward 8 years to Northern Virginia.  I still leave the radio on for her when I leave the house, and have it tuned to WTOP so she can listen to the weather report, Traffic on the 8’s, and stay up-to-date on Washington News and Sports.  The one and only thing I wish is that they would ditch the commercials that use the sound of fireworks in them, usually around any holiday like the 4th of July, Memorial and Labor Day.  Drives poor Clover crazy.

There are all kinds of “music for dogs” CDs out there, some of them backed by “studies” made by veterinarians, experts in dog behavior, and so on.  You can spend lots of money on music for your dog(s).  I am not saying whether they work or not.  What I am saying is you should put that Visa card back in your wallet, and put on a Talk Radio station.  Your dog(s) wont care what they’re talking about, but they may just enjoy the sound.

My younger (and only) sister was a very precocious child.  She is four years younger than me,  and she loves to remind me as often as possible that she is the “younger” sister and that I am the “older” one.

Way back in the day, as I was approaching the age of 11 or 12, my mom made a point of putting some time aside for the two of us to watch a special on PBS about pregnancy and babies.  It was an hour show, and it was all about the birds and bees.  Afterwards, my mom asked me if I had any questions, and I can’t imagine that I did.  I was probably in shock!

My sister, who was deemed too young for the content of the show was banished to the bedroom with a bribe of some Oreos.  It wasn’t until the show was over that my mom realized that Little Sister had been eavesdropping from the hallway and that she got her “birds and bees” lesson a lot earlier than my mom had intended.

A couple of weeks later, my parents had some friends over for drinks and cards.  My sister, suffering from an upset tummy is sitting on the toilet in our bathroom.  She opens the door, sticks her head out, and hollers: “Mom!  Come quickly!  I have gonorrhea!”

Everyone at the table stopped, and turned to my mother who had turned a bright shade of red.  Mom goes in to see what was wrong with Little Sister and make sure she was o.k. , and asks her where she had heard “that” word, to which my sister said that she had overheard it on the television.  At that point, my mom tried to explain the difference between gonorrhea and diarrhea!

As you can imagine, the adults at the table all had a great laugh over this.  And, 40 years later, it still makes me laugh.

My dad is one of six kids, and was born in 1927 in New York.  One of his first jobs at the very young age of 5 or 6 years was to sweep the floor of the candy store below their apartment.  You had to know my grandmother to understand the rest of this story.  She worked full-time for many years, as did my grandfather.  Her kids were often left to their own devices, and my dad says that “the best dressed kid in the family was the one that got up first.”   She could handicap a horse with her eyes closed, and she knew the season’s racing schedule by heart, but she herself would have told you about her lack of cooking skills.  She could burn water.  Grandma was no Suzie Homemaker.

My grandmother’s one claim to culinary fame was her pot roast.  My mom makes it from time-to-time, but it really is a lot of work and the onions really stink up the house.  The pot roast is always yummy, and if you didn’t know that it had ginger snaps or vinegar in it you would never know!

So.  Back to my dad (and where I’m going with this) …

I was about 10-years-old and very interested in cooking and baking.  I remember one Saturday asking my mom if I could make a cake.  She said sure, and got out a box of Duncan Hines cake mix.  My dad, sitting at the table having his coffee and reading the newspaper, was horrified.  He launched into a story about how he used to bake cookies and cakes when he was my age and he NEVER used a mix!  So, me being the brat that I was, I challenged him, “So, dad, why don’t you show us how to make a cake from scratch if you can remember how.”

My dad rose to the challenge and said, “Sure!  Why not!”  I remember my mom saying, “Great.  Just clean up the mess when you’re done.”  I asked my dad if he needed a recipe from one of mom’s books, and he said “Recipe? Now way! I remember how to do this from memory!”

My dad set out to make a complete mess of the kitchen.  He sifted flour, measured out this and that and mixed things up by hand (“The way I did it when I was a kid”).  I remember this like it was yesterday.  There was flour everywhere, egg shells on the tile countertop, and the oven heating up.  My dad greased and floured the two cake pans, filled them with a yummy chocolate batter, slapped the pans on the countertop “to get the air bubbles out of the cake,” and popped the two rounds into the oven to bake.

Hmmm.  The smell was divine.  The timer went off.  My mom and I came into the kitchen to check out dad’s cake.  He, with a big smile on his face, put on the oven mits, and reached into the oven to take out his cake pans.

Hmmm.  The look on his face!  It was as flat as his cakes!  He was horrified!  He looked at me and my mom and mumbled something about the oven, or the eggs, or the bad baking powder  … Oops!   Baking powder, you say?

That mishap occurred about 40 years ago.  That was probably one of the last things my dad ever tried to bake or cook aside from the occasional boiled hot dog.   I’m not even going to go into the time that he “baked the steaks” in the oven at 200 degrees for 4 hours or the fact that he still calls the microwave that “new fangled thing.”

These photographs were taken by my friend Danielle in or around Walla Walla, Washington this past Spring.  Danielle is a wonderful photographer, and I think she needs some encouragement to start her own photo blog.

Walla Walla Balloons by Danielle G.

Posted in camera critters, sky watch Tagged: camera critters, festival, hot air baloons, photograph, sky watch friday, walla walla ]]> http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/08/13/walla-walla-balloons-by-danielle/feed/ 29 twobarkingdogs danielle's balloon swfsmall danielle horse balloon photo Camera Critters danielle balloon photo 3 http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/08/09/hey-harriett-check-out-casey-and-the-pool-and-the-little-bitty-shadow/ http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/08/09/hey-harriett-check-out-casey-and-the-pool-and-the-little-bitty-shadow/#comments Sun, 09 Aug 2009 04:08:05 +0000 twobarkingdogs http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/?p=2428 ]]>

This is a photo of Casey.  She grew up to be a lovely Golden Retriever.  She loved everyone, and especially anyone with a treat!  She is long gone now, but she holds a spot in the Our Family’s Pet Hall of Fame.

How much deeper would the ocean be if sponges didn’t live there?

I know with a lot of people, summer time means watermelon, but for me it means peaches.  I suppose I have a fondness for white peaches …

One summer my parents loaded my sister and me into the used early-1960’s Chrysler New Yorker that my dad had recently bought from his boss.  My dad hated that car.  He said it was ugly and that it drove like a giant boat.  This particular summer vacation, we headed from South Florida to a cabin in North Carolina which belonged to a friend of my dad’s.

I’ll never forget driving up the highway, when my sister who was about 8-years-old at the time, asked my dad “Daddy!  Is the car supposed to be making black smoke out the back?”  My dad cursed, and we ended up staying three days and nights in a Holiday Inn in Valdosta, Georgia.  This was back in the late-1960’s, and my dad tells the story about going with the local mechanic after he got off work to some juke joint to find the mechanic’s brother who had a junk yard and who might be able to supply a couple of needed parts.  My dad, however, had to wait at the bar in the old rural joint while the mechanic and his brother attended their weekly Ku Klux Klan meeting in the back room.  I think my dad won a few dollars in a dice game that night, but hearing him retell the story some 40-years later, he will tell you that he was scared to death, and couldn’t wait to put Valdosta in the rear view mirror.

While my dad was working at getting the car fixed, my mom, sister and I hung out at the wonderful swimming pool, and I even made a few dollars giving little kids swimming and diving lessons.

When the car was finally fixed, my parents reloaded us into the car and we headed toward the remainder of our vacation.  We stopped somewhere in South Carolina, and my mom bought a bushel of fresh white peaches.  Its the first time I remember ever eating a white peach.  It was one of those seminal moments!  Peaches come in white!   Who knew!

By the time we made it to the cabin, which was up a very steep and winding road, and required my dad to do some amazing maneuvers to get the car into the driveway, my sister and I had eaten about half of the peaches.  We were covered from head to toe in sticky peach juice and I thought my mom was going to kill us for eating so many of the peaches.  This transgression was completely forgotten when my mom tried to open the front door to the cabin.  The door wold not budge.  It was one of the first times I ever saw my mom have a meltdown.  My dad got the door open after about 10 minutes of struggling, pulling, and swearing.   Mom’s meltdown was right up there with my dad’s when he realized the case of Carling’s Black Label Beer he had loaded into the car in Florida was almost gone, and that we were spending the rest of the week in a cabin on top of a mountain in a dry county.

So, there we all were.  My mom with a migrane and really pissed off at my father, my dad thirsty and without a beer in sight, all of our vacation money was used to purchase a gasket for a car that my dad really hated, my sister and me sharing a queen sized bed in a room with spiders on the ceiling, and a bathroom without any hot water.

Two things that saved the vacation from being a total disaster for me was the stash of really racy romantic novels I found in the bedroom closet, and the remainder of the bushel of white peaches.

Photo Courtesy of Fir0002/Flagstaffotos

A couple of weeks ago, my neurologist called me to say he wanted me to see an Infectious Disease Specialist (IDS) to rule out Lyme Disease.  Apparently, those little ticks can cause quite the ruckus in animal and man, and someone with Lyme Disease can present with a lot of the symptoms that I’ve been having over the past few months.

When I looked up the doctor on-line, and some sleuthing as to what exactly an IDS doctor is all about, I started to get worried.  Just the word “infectious” is enough to get my stomach all upset.  I kept thinking about sitting in the waiting room surrounded by people hacking up H1N1 virus all over the office.

I used my trusty new Garmin Nuvi to help me find the doctor’s office in an area of town that I wasn’t totally familiar with.  I did know, however, that at 3:00 p.m., the traffic was going to be miserable so I started out in the general direction completely ignoring the “Turn Right in 50 feet.  Turn right now,” which would have put me on the Interstate.  Garmin kept saying “recalculating.”  After about 10 “recalculations,” I was waiting for the Nuvi to yell at me: “Turn me off if you’re not going to take the route I’m giving you, you idiot!”

I arrived at the doctor’s office a full 45 minutes early, filled out forms, and actually got in to see the doctor early.  There was one lady sitting in the corner of the waiting room having a fight wit her significant other on the cellphone between hacking coughs that sounded terrible.  I kept waiting for the TB police to show up and haul her off to some sanitarium.  There was also a man there that upon close inspection reminded me of another weeble .

I met with the doctor for over 1 and 1/2 hours while she inspected me, my lab work, and consulted with my neurologist over the phone.  The verdict?  I do not have Lyme Disease.

Oh, and some really bad news?  I am now suffering from a case of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).  I cannot stop washing my hands.

…  how many people are using Google Reader to keep track of their favorite blogs, and how come no one turned me onto it sooner?

So many blogs, so little time.

Cosmo:   Just thought I would let you know that when Clover and I were upstairs the other day, the sofa in the living room disappeared.  Poof! Just like that.  I’m really not sure where it went, but I keep looking for it and can’t find it.  Now, I ask you! How am I supposed to stretch out and relax while watching television?  Does Your Woman expect me actually lie on the floor?

Clover:  Yup.  The couch is gone.  I am at a loss for words.  I guess if I want to stretch out and snooze, I’ll have to lie on Your Woman’s bed, but that is not an ideal option as there is no television in the bedroom!  What is a Labrador to do, I ask you?

Note to Clover and Cosmo from “Your Woman”:  Get used to the floor because when the new sofa gets here it will be People Only Territory.

Clover & Cosmo:  “Yeah, right.  We’ll just have to see about that.”

I have been scanning in some old photos recently, and came across this one.  I took this photo in 1976 at the Crandon Park Zoo on Key Biscayne in Miami.  The old zoo closed in 1981 when they opened the giant and much-improved Metro Zoo.   I spent many a Sunday afternoon at the old Crandon Park Zoo as a child growing up in the Miami area.

The Crandon Park Zoo on Key Biscayne got its start in the late-1940’s when a Circus ran out of money and got stranded in Miami.  They began with a couple of monkeys, two black bears, and a goat.  By the late-1960’s, the Crandon Park Zoo was rated one of the best zoos in the United States.  The Crandon Park Zoo closed (around 1981) when the new Miami Metro Zoo opened.

Today’s Camera Critter is:

Flamingos or flamingoes are gregarious wading birds in the genus Phoenicopterus and family Phoenicopteridae.  They are found in both the Western Hemisphere and in the Eastern Hemisphere, but are more numerous in the latter. There are four species in the Americas and two species in the Old World. Two species, the Andean and the James’s Flamingo, are often placed in the genus Phoenicoparrus instead of Phoenicopterus.

Its that time of year!  Everyone is either thinking about, planning, or about to embark on a vacation trip of some kind.  A lot of people are about to head out on road trips to grandma’s, the beach, the mountains, taking a day or two or even longer!  AND a lot of people are taking their dogs with them.

I have made quite a few road trips with Clover, and then with both Clover and Cosmo in tow.  Clover has crossed the Irish Sea in a ferry a couple of times, stayed at a dog friendly castle in Scotland (twice), and that doesn’t include the air miles earned on Delta.  Cosmo has become a very good traveler, too.   His first road trip to Florida was made when he was only a few months old, and he’s been game for a road trip ever since.

For someone that hasn’t traveled with their dog(s) before, it can seem like a logistical nightmare of what to do, how to do it, where to go, etc.  Here are a couple of pointers that I have found helpful over the years.  I hope they help, and in  no particular order of importance:

• Take two sets of keys to your car, that way if you have to leave the a/c running while making a pit stop you can still lock the door and keep the windows closed thus keeping the dogs safe.
• I don’t stop at highway rest stops unless you I have no other choice.  I have found many of them to very dirty and poop-filled.  I prefer to get off the highway and stop at a Cracker Barrel Restaurant.  They almost always have great green areas (bring your own poop bags) for walking the dogs, they are always busy with lots of people around (for safety), and they don’t mind if you go in and use their bathrooms either.
• Tire them out big time the day before the trip, and a good walk before getting in the car.  Sleeping dogs don’t whine and complain that they’re bored.
• Check online for dog parks that might be along your travel route. I am in Virginia and my parents are about 900 miles away in Florida.  I found a great dog park that my dogs love and if I time it right, I can visit there and enjoy an hour or two with the dogs while they get some exercise.
• “No pets” doesn’t always mean no pets allowed.  We stopped at a hotel in England once that had a huge sign at the front desk that said “No PETS ALLOWED.”  It was pouring rain and we were exhausted and I didn’t want to keep looking for a hotel …. I offered to leave a deposit of 100 pounds .. the manager came out and met Clover (and me and my mom) and said, “No problem” and didn’t charge me for the dog or take the deposit.  Ask.
• I leave my dogs in the back seat with a net barrier between us.  I also keep their leashes on when they’re in the car as its much easier to grab the dogs for getting in and out of the vehicle without fumbling to put their leashes on.
• If you have treats or food in the car during the trip, keep it well sealed and out of their reach. Cosmo once quietly nibbled holes in a bag of dry dog food. He at about 3 cups of the food before I realized it.
• My dogs get very excited when they see the suitcase come out, so I try to pack at the very last minute so they don’t get all worked up.
• Make sure to take current photos of your pets with you (printed out, not just on your cellphone) along with their shot records from the vets. Make sure you have tags on your dogs with your cell phone number, just in case. Mine have tags from Va with my contact info, and they have a tag with my Parents contact info in Florida.
• If you have a travel crate, bring it along if you can. I have found it very helpful to have the crate along as Cosmo will pace all night long in a strange hotel room.  If I use the crate, he will settle down and relax.
• Don’t forget the water bowl, and some extra water for the dogs!

Hope some of these tips help.  Please feel free to leave a comment with any additional tips, too.

I took this photo almost 20 years ago when I first lived in Dublin, Ireland.  There are a still a couple of flower vendors on Grafton Street where you can pick up a bouquet of beautiful flowers.  Around the holidays, the displays are even better!

Today’s Flowers

Posted in dublin, photo meme, today's flowers Tagged: dublin, flower vendors, flowers, grafton street, ireland, today's flowers ]]> http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/07/12/on-grafton-street/feed/ 14 twobarkingdogs dublin-flower-market http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/07/11/nanny-nanny-boo-boo/ http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/07/11/nanny-nanny-boo-boo/#comments Sat, 11 Jul 2009 04:08:55 +0000 twobarkingdogs http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/?p=2342 ]]>

“Tippy’s response to the Dog Show Judges that failed to see her blue ribbon qualities!”

Thanks very much to Tippy for letting me post her picture on the blog for Camera Critters.  She just turned one year old and is a well-loved Labrador Retriever!

Those judges don’t know what the missed out on!

If you toast a pumpernickel bagel, how can you tell when it is done, and not burned? 

This is an old newspaper rendition of a rose that I found in a large envelope last year at the county recycle center. The envelope was marked “Evelyn” and had many cut out roses from newspapers and magazines from the 1940’s.  I think this is one of my favorites.

Wordless Wednesday, Check it Out!

Occoquon, Virginia

Posted in virginia, wordless wednesday Tagged: occoquon, river, virginia, wordless wednesday ]]> http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/07/01/under-the-occoquon-bridge/feed/ 11 twobarkingdogs 100_6054 100_6055 http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/06/27/you-cant-make-this-crap-up-weeble/ http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/2009/06/27/you-cant-make-this-crap-up-weeble/#comments Sat, 27 Jun 2009 19:19:42 +0000 twobarkingdogs http://twobarkingdogs.wordpress.com/?p=2280 ]]>

I haven’t really felt like blogging much lately.  I have been very busy running back and forth to doctors’ appointments and such.  Do I write about it, or not? Do people that stop by my blog for a dog biscuit recipe really care what’s going on?  A few people have commented, and others have e-mailed me their concerns, but I haven’t really felt like writing about it.

So, here goes …

In the past few weeks, I’ve learned all kinds of new words and acronyms:

• My PCP sent me to a NEURO who noted all of my SX and sent me for MRIs and an LP and the DX is MS.

Seriously, you cannot make this crap up!  Need a translation?

• My primary care physician sent me to a neurologist.  After a bunch of visits, testing which included a couple of MRIs, extensive blood work, nerve tests, and a lumbar puncture (spinal tap), the preliminary diagnosis is Multiple Sclerosis.

My first reaction was: ” Shit!”  My second reaction was: “Well Shit! At least I’m not going crazy!”   My third reaction was: “Well, Shit! I guess its better to get this at 52 years of age than at 22.”

I could go on and on about the symptoms I’ve been having, but I won’t.  I just want to tell everyone, I am not drunk, I just walk like I am.  Weebles Wobble But They Don’t Fall Down.  Well, not yet any way.

My dogs can tell that something is not right as they haven’t been getting their regular walks.  Cosmo has taken to sitting on my feet all of the time, and Clover seems very needy at the moment always wanting to sit next to me on the couch with her head in my lap.  I’m going to have to hire a dog walker pretty soon, or they might pack their bags and move to Florida to live with my parents.  I wouldn’t blame them one bit.

Would You Please Sit Still So I Can Take Your Photo!

My all time favorite church fundraising yard sale was yesterday.  I got there just as they opened the doors, and came away with a few goodies.  I always find something of interest at this sale.  One year, I bought two matching brass headboards for my twin beds in the guest room ($10), a pet barrier for the SUV ($3), and another time, a huge cache of vintage baby clothes/smocking patterns. 

I could have spent at least a couple of hours at this sale, going through every single item for sale; however, it filled up with people so quickly, and every which way I turned there was a little kid running around with a toy trying to trip me.  I filled up my tote bag, and after 30 minutes, headed out to a couple of yard sales.  The weather was lovely, and I was home by 10:30 a.m.

Here are some photos of the goodies that I picked up this week and on May 9:

I went for another MRI this week, and this time, I made sure I was scheduled for an “open MRI.”  Seriously, there was no way I was going to go through that again if I didn’t have to.  This MRI was at a different location, I showed up 15 minutes early, and they took me in right away.  Great!  In early, out early, right?

In walks Boris.  A normal looking guy with a short clipped beard, eyeglasses, and a very strong Russian accent.  He called me “ma’am” or “Mrs.” and did his best to keep me informed about what was going to happen with the MRI.  Ok.  I was just praying that this trip through “the machine” weren’t going to shock me into submission.

Hint to anyone that has to schedule an MRI.  If you are at all claustrophobic, book an Open MRI.  Woohoo!  That was a much better experience.  However, if Boris is your technician, you will not understand one word that he says over the microphone.  “OK ….. blah blah blah blah blah.  Ok.”  I finally gave up.  Between his accent and the crappy microphone he was using, I figured if he really needed to tell me something and I didn’t answer him, he would come in and check to make sure I hadn’t fallen asleep or passed out.

At the end of the procedure, which, by the way, took almost 3 hours instead of the usual 1 to 1.5 hours, Boris told me, “Mrs., I took beauuuuutiiifulllll pictures of your spine.”  He then proceeded to either tell me what a great doctor I had, and how nice and thorough he is, or that my Dr. is a great poker player.  I’m really not sure about half of the stuff he told me.  But seriously?  Boris made me laugh, and the Open MRI is my new friend.

A colleague and friend e-mailed me this photo on Friday.  The two females (center and right) are about to find a new home with his family of Beagle lovers in Virginia.  I mean, seriously, how cute are these Beagle babies?  C’mon, Ken!  Three’s Company!

Thanks to Erin for letting me post this picture of Bodie on the blog. 

When I saw this smiling muddy dog, I knew I wanted to share it! 

Bodie – You Are One Cute (Dirty) Dog!

I had an MRI last week.  I’m pretty sure it was my first MRI, because I surely would remember if I had ever experienced something like that before.  I asked to book for an “Open MRI” but when I got there, I was told the “Open” machine was “Closed” for maintenance and would I want to reschedule? or, perhaps go ahead with the regular MRI?  Reschedule?  Get up at 6:00 a.m. again on purpose? No thanks.  Let’s get this show on the road.

First, let me tell you a secret: I am a Big Fluffy Woman, and MRI machines are not made for Big Fluffy Women.  I felt like a giant human sausage all squashed up in that contraption.  Lying on my back, panic buton in my left hand and nothing to do with my right hand, I clasped my hands and tried to relax.  I had on earphones so I could hear the technician and listen to some really crappy music, and try to block out the REALLY LOUD sounds the machine was going to make.

The technician came on the earphones and said in a very calm voice, “Are you ready?  Yes?  Ok.  This first scan will take about 45 seconds.”  I’m thinking, “This is not too bad, just relax and remember to breathe and not move your head and ignore that FREAKING LOUD NOISE.”  Just then, the machine starts up, and I experience a zinging shock that starts in one hand and zooms around my shoulders, down the arm and ends in my other hand!  PANIC PANIC PANIC.

The voice says in a calm voice, “What’s the matter?”, to which I yell, “Woah!  I’m getting shocked!”, and the technician says “Unclasp your hands, you are creating a closed circuit, that’s why you are getting shocked.”  Ok, now, don’t you think that that is something they should have told me before stuffing me into that tube?

After the procedure, I went out to the waiting area which was by now filled with future human sausages.  Lots of people looking at me, a couple smiled, a few looked away.  It was strange, and I wasn’t sure what was up.  Were my clothes on backwards? Did the MRI machine turn me purple?  When I got to the car, looked in the rearview mirror as I pulled out of the spot, and realized what everyone was looking at!

I saved a bunch of roses from the trash last year.  They were in an envelope marked “Evelyn.”  (More Roses can be found here.)  All of the pictures had been cut from newspapers and magazines from the 1940’s.  My friend Robin bought the collection from me on and turned them into beautiful gift tags.

Check Out – Today’s Flowers

I’ve been rethinking the blog lately.  My friends keep telling me that I need to write down some of my stories and experiences, both past and present.  My friend Rob has been trying to convince me of this for years.  When I started this blog, it was all about the dogs.  The mutts are so much a part of my life, that I’m sure that they will always be a part of this blog, too.  But, it is time for a change.

So, stay tuned. More stories to follow, and a few of them are real doozies!

Cartoon by Dave Walker.