Character (and quality). Of a man and his work.

My friend had a picture posted on her Facebook today.  In the picture was a hand, holding what appeared to be a small bunny.  Around the hand/ bunny was printed, "You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him," attributed to James D. Miles.

This post struck a nerve with me on several levels.

1) Singer's Christmas fence was a total disaster.  I was very sad this morning when I saw the whole thing in daylight.  I cried.  I hope the company, so far unnamed, will do the right thing and fix the problems promptly.

2) The first thing I thought of when I saw the picture was Lenny.

3) I've been a little slow on the uptake lately, so I had to break this third one down.  Pets, even the most annoying ones, do something for you.  That's what makes them lovable, cherished members of the family.  When they stop doing anything for you, they're just burdens.  I guess that goes for everything in life.  Sometimes things are unpleasant and feel like burdens, and it is how we deal with them that shows our true nature.

When I first started fostering Bo, she was a terror.  Many people advised me to have her put down.  She was expensive, time consuming and unpredictable.   However blindly, I never stopped caring about her, even when I was bedridden and on painkillers because of her.  I'm not quite sure what she provided me, but I never felt like she had nothing to give.  She was troubled, confused and defensive, but full of life, and certainly deserving of love.  But what would it have taken for her to become an unqualified burden?  Would I have walked away?

Christmas Wrap Up.

Mantel Merriment (!)

Singer and Bo spent Christmas in CT and NY this year, so Santa came several times.  Their booty included  treats, a hair brush and the whopper, a fence that will be installed later this week.  Pretty soon, Singer and Bo will be able to run around with reckless abandon in their backyard.  If you've never gotten a fence installed, those things are not cheap!   I wonder if I can take the fence with me when I move?  My next house will definitely have a fence.

On Christmas Eve, my parents and I loaded up the car with the doggies and went Christmas light hunting and found an amazing property that had been decorated like a gingerbread village.  It was truly a sight to behold.  I love everything about Christmas, from the lights to the festivity to the time spent with family.  CHRISTMAS!

Singer has the Christmas zoomies.

In any event, my parents were thrilled so see Singer, and she was thrilled to show off with some extra fast zoomies in their yard.

Bo, on the other hand, was content to gnaw on a tennis ball after giving chase.

Unflappable concentration

In other Bo news, someone has expressed interest in adopting Bo.  As you know, Bo is a foster that I have had for almost 7 months now.  My family has grown quite attached to her, despite her old lady quirks.  So much so that she stays with my parents half-time these days.  If push came to shove, I would adopt her myself. 

Waiting for Santa Paws

Will not be leading the sleigh tonight.

Singer's quite the Christmas traveler.  For our first Christmas together, we went to New Hampshire and Maine and nearly missed being stranded by a snow storm.  This year, she'll be spending it in Connecticut and New York.  On the way to see her grandparents, she gained a few not so secret admirers who actually stopped their car just to tell me how adorable she was being.  And with a face like this, who could disagree?

Santa, I've been a very good girl this year.

Just because Christmas came early for her doesn't mean she still isn't still holding out for a little something special in her stocking tomorrow.

Christmas comes early.

Singer's special friend Mary has been spoiling her since the first day she heard I was bringing her home.  For Singer's first Christmas, she received Better Than Ears treats and some chew toys.  Singer knew exactly what to do with the Better Than Ears.  The toys, not so much.  Good thing BoBo came around  later on to help out.  This year, Santa Mary came through with not one, but TWO bags of BTE!

Thank you Santa Mary!!

Ever since Mary introduced me to BTE, I've been getting Singer and BoBo the healthy joints formula.  Neither have mentioned increased dexterity, but it makes me feel better.

White balance is off in the picture, but Singer's making her puppy face.  Christmas might include some camera homework.

Ghost poop.

I've been on poop patrol ever since Singer's birthday.  Why?  She had a run in with some chicken soup bones and the trash.  More like she ran into the trash can with her mouth open.  We called the vet right away to see if we should take her in for an x-ray.  After the vet asked about Singer's age, breed and weight, she advised us to hang tight and watch for loss of appetite, vomiting, constipation, or bloody poo.

It's been pretty clear that the first three have not been a problem.  I have been on poop watch though, and this is what I saw this morning:

Ghost poop.  Chicken bone calcium poop.  I'll take this over the 4th symptom anytime though.  And Singer will be glad when I stop following her into her secret pooping area and poking her ghostly works of art with a stick.

A new view of the wet nose.

I got a new camera to document Singer's antics.  It was a purchase several years in the making, but an Amazon Deal of the Day pushed me over the precipice.  Meet the proud new owner of a Canon S95.  Yes, it's not the S100, but it's still many steps above the current set up.

I'm looking forward to learning how this bad boy works.  My most observant of readers may have noticed that the pictures from Singer's birthday party were a little sharper than normal.  There's a ring on the front that lets you change focal lengths and the shutter button on this camera is where my old power button used to be.  I've still got some puttering around to do before I become the next Jimmy Chin though.

Party Time!

After nearly twenty-four hours of anticipation, Singer got her birthday cake, complete with edible doggie candles.  Singer's never eaten at the table before, so she really wasn't sure what was going on.  My pointing to the plate didn't help; I think she thought I was tricking her.  Once I put the cake on the floor though, all bets were off!

First, a trip in the way-back machine.  This is a picture I took of Singer on December 20, 2010, the night I took her home.  I'd been approved to take her home a whole day earlier than expected, and I didn't have all of her gear ready yet other than a dog crate I'd picked up that afternoon.  Thanks, Craigslist!  I remember being terrified on the car ride over to the pound to pick her up, knowing that this skinny little dog was going to be my responsibility for the long haul.

Notice the purple leopard collar and the carabiner leash.  The collar I'd purchased to take her home in was too small, and I didn't have a fancy car harness (or know they existed yet).  Don't worry, I've stimulated the economy and purchased all of the gear and accessories necessary to keep her safe and spoil her rotten.  

Back the party prep now.  After I let the cake cool, I cut it into a cute little bone shape.

Here, Singer begs for the parts of the cake I cut off.  No dice, Singer, not yet!

I ended up nixing the cottage cheese "frosting" the original recipe called for and going with a sweet potato-organic yogurt mixture.  Sweet, orange and probiotically delicious.  I tried it myself, and I give it a 4 out of 5.

Singer thought the frosting was pretty good too.

Since no birthday cake is complete without candles, I made some flameless, edible candles for Singer.  Okay, really for me, because they're cute.  And I really didn't want to see if she would really try to eat a lit candle.  How did I do it?  Ziti "candles" and grated carrot "flames".

Once I had that all set up, it was time for the birthday girl to take her throne.  Unfortunately or fortunately, she doesn't normally eat at the table and had no idea what was going on, as evidenced by the pictures below.

Am I going to get in trouble?

Are you sure this is mine?

Once I put the cake on the floor though, she knew it was hers.  I don't think they make shutter speeds fast enough to capture what happened next.

It was a blur of chomping, wagging, scarfing, and licking.  I actually had to stop her so I could take the cake away and cut it up into smaller pieces.





 And when it was all over, Singer, in typical Singer fashion, looked up at me for more.  Just tonight, Singer! May your days be filled with happiness and wonderment and your nights be filled with dreams of slow-footed squirrels.  Happy birthday to my favorite Singer in the world.

Happy Birthday!

Did I hear birthday cake? For me?!

Ms. Singer turns three today (but one for me). She has been the best dog I could ever ask for, and it would be a grand understatement to say that my cup runneth over with her. She has been there for good times and better times, and has shown me the true meaning of generosity and unconditional love, and the responsibility it comes with. I would not change a minute of the past year if it meant that she could not be a part of it.

This morning, she got belly rubs, a nice long walk with extra sniffing time, her GNC doggie vitamin, and her fish oil pills (that nice sleek coat is not an accident!). Tonight, she's going to party like it's 2011. I love you, Singer!

Birthday countdown

Singer's going to party like it's her birthday tomorrow, because, well, I don't know when her real birthday is. Like any spoiled birthday dog, she'll get the royal canine treatment (as much as I can provide anyway). And what's a birthday without some birthday cake?

To pull off this feat of puppy spoilery, I found a dog-friendly cake recipe online and modified it a bit so that it would include a few of Singer's favorite snacks, like squirrel and Bo. I jest! Notice the frantic wagging of her tail as she watches me prepare.

Behold the peanut butter-carrot cake!

Ingredients: shredded carrots, natural peanut butter (none of that hydrogenated oil and nuts crud), flour, oats, one egg, oil, and a tiny bit of baking soda.

Mix, and bake for 40 minutes in a greased circa 1980's baking dish (for authenticity, this step is crucial). If Singer's enthusiasm for the batter-laced mixing bowl was any indication of her assessment of the cake, then I think we may have a winner.

The original recipe calls for frosting with cottage cheese, which I don't have. And eww! I think I'm going with plan B for that one. I'll frost the cake when I get back from work tomorrow.

At right, the cake, unbaked. Since I'm not a fan of peanut butter, the smell of pb wafting through the house during baking was a bit weird. Singer begged to differ though. Happy almost birthday Singer!

Progress

Inspired by several fancy-pants bloggers turned professional DIY'ers, I'll be posting before and after pictures of the progress at The Manor over the next few days (read: months).

I'm not sure if I should post the progress as it happened chronologically, or from the outside, in. Thoughts?

First race!

I capped off an abbreviated karting season this year in Englishtown, NJ with my very first race! The last race of the year is called the Turkey Race, and the winner of each class brings home a trophy and a turkey. That almost pays for 1/100th of the travel expenses, entry fees, fuel, parts, and Xanax required to corral two hyperactive fur balls. While I didn't bring home a turkey, I had great fun, and turned my best lap times yet. Here's how it all went down:

Saturday: practice. So-so, lots of traffic. No personal bests, but with a rare full, free weekend, I decided I was ready to finish the season off with a bang. 

Sunday: earthquakes of doubt and remorse. What had I gotten myself into? Went out for 4 practice sessions, and felt okay. My times were decent, especially with no one to follow. Now for the qualifier... lots of rules, something about flag order, crossed flags, count laps.. hmmm okay zoom! The qualifier felt good. Most of the regulars turned a few laps and went in. Since I was there just to get more experience, I took all 8 qualifier laps and posted a personal best. Afterwards, I helped the pit crew change out a bent axle on another kart. I'm becoming quite the grease monkey. Who knew axles were so bendy? We finished in time for my pre-feature, which had a slightly different protocol. Whatever. I started at the back of the pack and hoped for the best, and I brought it as best as I could. Another personal best! (And I didn't even get lapped.) By this point, I'd turned nearly 50 laps and was pretty tired, but I wanted to see if I could get even faster in the feature. Since I already let the cat out of the bag (no turkey for me), it's pretty clear what happened at the feature race. I got tired, I misread the flagger and I did not best my previous times. But I beat one guy in my run class (take that, team Ferrari!), I had a blast, and Ralphie and I will be back next year.

And no mommy makes two.

For the first time in nearly a year, I will be completely puppy-less. Well, technically, I've always been puppy-less, but Singer will always be a puppy to me. With a combination of work and travel, I'll be away from my girls for almost three weeks. To make matters worse, Singer is not feeling well, and it's so hard for me not to be doing everything for her *myself*. As if I don't sing her praises enough, she has been a truly perfect dog for me, and not a week goes by that I don't think about the Manchester Animal Control and all that they do. I know those guys take a lot of heat, but they really hit one out of the park with Singer. So thank you MAC and special thanks to Officer Elise!

I suppose today is also a good day to reflect upon all that has changed in the last year: repainting and decorating the living room and hallway, the attic chronicles, Singer! Bo..., Ralphie the kart, climbing on the sharp end, slowly...

And of course, other changes that have not been welcome at all. This past year has zipped by, this one seemingly more quickly than the last. I guess it's true what those adults say: your twenties will fly by, your life and priorities will change, and if you're lucky, a pair of soulful brown eyes will come into your life that will make you welcome those changes with open arms (and you'll accidentally take a picture of your foot).

In the eye of the apple of my eye.

Master campers

"Real" Augustography picture to come later hopefully.

Editor's note: Nope, this is it, the real deal.

Suburban garden turtle: rarely seen outside of captivity

Tropical Storm Irene coaxed more than a few woodland creatures out of their lairs. As never before captured on film, the rare suburban garden turtle.

First attempt at soft shell crab. Verdict: tasty!

Work is rough.

Thursday, August 25: Summer Winter Melon Pollination

(Internet's still down.)

Artistic Value: 0, Comfort Value: 9

Tuesday August 23: Raving Singer. (Internet's down at home... this post is a few hours late.)

Guess what?

Chocolate pepper flesh!

Smell-o-vision.

So yesterday's ROYGBIV theme totally went over my head. My bad. Red, Orange, yellow, Green, Brown, Inedible Ventana?

Today: smell-o-vision. Singer and Bo took a romp into the mucky pond today and managed to roll in every bit of stink they could find. Bo is quite proud of herself, evidenced by her boastful lounging. Singer is just content: ears back, nose poised to take in all of the olfactory symphony.

Theme: [tasty] colors.

This year, the garden saw:

Mustard greens

Edible amaranth

Winter melon

Bitter melon

Yellow tomatoes

Plum tomatoes

Cherry tomatoes

Basil

Scallions

Chocolate peppers

Some other pepper I lost the placard to.

Friday, August 19: Shoes. Blackberry flash. The American Dream.

Black and white and in the red

What, you've never seen a compact car towing a trailer?

A body in motion stays in motion

Me, I want a hula hoop

Undivided Attention

Saturday, August 13 (invoking same-day-if-you-never-slept rule)

Getting close and personal with some tire rubber. It would be better if I could pull off saying "I live my life a quarter mile at a time" with a straight face.

CSA tomatoes

Grew everything except the shallots!

Hypertension!