It Never Hurts to Ask

I found out tonight just how vivid Garrett's imagination is when I called today to ask about his plans for coming home from work.


Him: Speak, woman.

Me: (Not taking the bait) What's the deal on you coming home tonight?

Him: Well, I'd like to come home and find the kids on the driveway holding crossed swords above their heads for me to walk under. Oh, and the dogs should be standing out there on their hind legs in a gesture of welcome.

Me: That's very imaginative...

Him: Yeah, and you should be there too, wearing holsters with a cold beers in them.


and you should also have a bowl on your head and it should be full of buffalo wings.


Good thing I'm not a huge feminist, huh?

Art Appreciation

You certainly don't have to be an art afficionado to appreciate Edvard Munch's The Scream. Painted in 1893, there are several versions Munch created, including a lithograph.

In his diary, Munch described his inspiration for these works:
"I was walking along a path with two friends—the sun was setting—suddenly the sky turned blood red—I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence—there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city—my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety—and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature."

Of course you don't have to love art to relate to this picture. If your job is sucking the life out of you and you're strongly considering running over your laptop with your car, dropping your cell phone in the toilet and faking your own death, you can probably appreciate this just fine.

Our Adoption Is Final!

We're so pleased to announce the arrival of our new baby.

Hoover arrived on Saturday, August 16th, and weighs roughly 72 pounds. Obviously too big for the stork, he was delivered to us by his foster Mom, Betty Jean, who has taken care of him for the last couple of months while he was waiting to join a permanent home.

As for our new boy, I promise to post more pictures and details as soon as I resolve a little issue with the digital camera. In the meantime, I'll just say that he's as charming and affectionate as he is handsome, which is more than I can say for some beautiful men.

Welcome Home, Groovy Hoovy!

Marketing Genius of the Week

Need I say more?

I wonder if this company also makes a sauce for Pimp Cocktail?

Thanks to the Vinsons for finding this jewel of marketing genius.

Long-Overdue Tribute

Dear Cosmo,

Some would say that we rescued you in February of 1995, but the truth is that we gave you a home, and gave you our love, and you gave us your life from that very day until the last beat of your precious heart on June 27th, 2008. You freely gave us your devotion, adoration, and friendship, and you brought us more laughter and joy than we could have imagined.

There's no denying that you and I connected on the first day we met at the Humane Society. I felt it, and so did you. When I left the visiting room to ask the staff about how to adopt you, you cried from the moment I left your sight, stopping only when I came back to you. We were meant to be together.

In those first months together, I remember how you used to run through the ice plants with your Dad giving chase. Your tongue hung from your mouth, swaying with the rhythm of your galloping legs. You were a thrill to watch, even in those naugthy moments when your Dad was not amused.

We managed to make him crazy a few times together, didn't we? The first time you slept under the covers at my feet, he knew it wouldn't be the last time, and he was so right! Remember when we moved to Austin and couldn't find an apartment that would let us keep you, and we had to buy the house so you'd be happy and comfortable? You were just as much a part of this family as any of us, and we all love and miss you immensely.

Thank you for devoting your life to us and sharing your love. You taught the boys what loving and being loved by a pet means, and you opened your Dad's heart to the true meaning of eternal friendship. As for me, I'm sure you know what's in my heart, because you always did.

Now that you've left this life, our relationship on Earth has ended much as it began. You see, my little buddy, I've cried since the moment you left my sight, and there will always be a part of me that misses your constant love and faithful presence at my side. Until we meet again in Heaven, I'll see you in my dreams, sweet boy.

Love Forever,

Bruno Says, "Hook 'Em Horns!"

Garrett and I are University of Texas at Austin Alumni, and Bruno is working on his school spirit. Hopefully he'll enjoy watching football with G more than I do. Since I'd rather dry hump a barrel cactus in a bikini than watch the pigskin, it really shouldn't be a hard benchmark for Bruno to meet. In case you're not familiar with the barrel cactus, here's a picture:

In any case, Bruno just joined our family in January, and he's a retired racing greyhound. For those of you who've never met a greyhound in person, they are really unique and terrific pets. Here's a little video clip of pre-retirement Bruno winning a race at the Palm Beach Kennel Club. Watch for #5, that's my boy!

The Girliest Idea My Husband Has Ever Had

When I say this is the girliest idea Garrett has ever had, that's really saying something. I submit the following for your consideration:
  • He's a degreed Interior Designer...
  • He loves to shop for clothing and decor items...
  • and he's been known to wear a silk shirt to a barbecue.
Aside from these certified lady traits, he's a manly man, really. He can fix a car, build furniture, repair plumbing. He doesn't care that his ear canals look like pubic Chia pets, and he thinks it's hilarious when he finds a nugget of lint in his navel. He loves meat, potatoes, and beer.

It's this love of beer (fancy, exotic beer, I might add) that has given birth to the titular Girliest Idea My Husband Has Ever Had, presented here in dialogue for full dramatic effect.

Him: "I think I'm going to start collecting beer labels."

Me (skeptically): "What are you going to do with a bunch of beer labels?"

Him (defensively): "I'm going to mount them in a book with acid free paper and make notes about each one. What I liked, what I didn't like..."

Me (interrupting rudely): "You know what that is, right?"

Him (bracing for it): "No, what is it?"

Me (triumphantly): "That's a lame attempt at heterosexual scrapbooking!"


Not that it really matters what we call it, but semantics are important to Garrett. When the boys were small and someone gave them any sort of stuffed animal or doll, he always called them action figures.

In the interest of marital bliss, I'll try to restrain myself from calling it scrapbooking...but you and I know better, don't we?