Frog man

I just watched my husband do the naked, drunk, frog man walk from our R.V. down to the house that we're preparing to move in to. Mind you, he is not a navy seal or anything military related. The only things he had on were his flip flops and a cocky smile. No pun intended.

      

As he high stepped over the thigh high weeds and grass I thought I'd snap some pictures but I saw how white his hiney is and I don't think the flash on my camera works too well against that kind of white...

Why is it when you take a man out of the city and drop him in the country he's suddenly Rambo gone commando? A little rumble in the jungle? His primitive side, (along with his back side) begin to show.  Just him and his "boys" enjoying the cool night air.

Zeus the goose

My savannah cat, Zeus, loves the water. It's not uncommon to hear shrieks coming from the bathroom whenever some unsuspecting soul steps into the shower or slinks into a warm bath. Even though I give fair warning, some people just don't listen and if Zeus is allowed in the bathroom he believes it's his right to join you in the tub.

We'd brought Zeus up to spend a week with us in the R.V. at Shawnee lake. I wasn't sure if he would be as excited with such a large body of water, but I put him on his leash and harness and off we went.

The initial introduction to this foreign body of wetness was met with hissing, scratching, flailing legs and horrible howls.  After a quick dunking, Zeus settled right in and was curiously swimming with me and the little one.


Occasionally he would paddle out and give one of us a little loving head butt then realize his paws were no longer touching bottom and swim back in to safer places.

After a short while of swimming, skipping after minnows and ferociously attacking water weeds until he was certain he'd killed them, I decided he'd had enough for his first time out and took him to shore.

I dried him off with a towel and he sunned himself for a bit. Drowsy, Zeus was ready for a nice little nap. I watched him as he slept, marvelling at how much he resembles the wild cats. His head is more cougar shaped now and his eyes have a definite exotic slant.

It's crazy how much I love this cat, but I do and he's one of the greatest gifts I've ever received.  If he ever dies I think I'll have his head and tail stuffed and turn him into a purse.

Slip sliding away

When my two sons were small we saw something on t.v. that got us really excited. It was the hottest part of summer and we were looking for ways to cool off when we saw a commercial for the Slip N Slide.

Looking back, I question my sanity as a parent. Initial impressions said this device would be great fun but I really didn't think beyond what my eyes had seen on that blinking t.v. screen.

Off we went to purchase this amazing instrument of slippery summer fun. Joyfully we toted it home. Following the manufacturers simple instructions, we were able to create our own personal nirvana.

Triumphantly, we stood back to admire our handiwork. A long, yellow snake of plastic stretched out flatly before us, water shooting gentle streams inviting us to have some fun  !

Wheeee~ Look at me!

                                        

Just look at that face in the photo!  How could any mother not be excited?  For hours we ran and jumped, our bodies arcing through the air and landing with a resounding "thwack" on the wet plastic.  One belly flop after another as we slid the length of that slippery yellow snake. We wiggled and we squiggled and we laughed out loud! 

How could I know that this harmless seeming device was, in reality, a device of torture? 

As I tucked the boys in bed that night I prided myself on being a good parent.  We'd had a wonderful day of fun, sun and laughter.  The following morning told it's own tale as I rolled out of bed, moaning and groaning and clutching my body.  Oh the deception! I couldn't sit up for days. 

Who in their right mind could ever think that body slamming yourself onto solid ground for endless hours with only a thin sheet of plastic between you and the dirt could be a good thing?  For me the end results were similar to having somebody take a wooden plank and hit me in my  belly with it .  Over and over again.

He's got the look!

Three days ago, my FABULOUS husband walked through the door sporting a short haircut and a cocky grin....my baby's come home.  Finally.

Symbollic hair

I'm sitting here at a lake in central Oklahoma watching the clouds roll by and the wind whip the trees. It's hard to believe just 4 years ago this month I met my husband. And fell wildly in love.

I've debated the wisdom in writing this post but realized anybody that knows me and my husband already know that we had a little hiccup in our matrimonial menu.

This morning started out wonderfully, both of us in a fantastic mood, laughing, smiling and joking around. My husband grabbed a quick shower and for me the mood changed immediately. It changed because of the hair.

Tto me his hair has become a symbol. It's symbollic of the man who could not just walk away from me, our marriage and everything we'd ever meant to each other, but run. As far and fast as he could. A man who could callously tear my heart in pieces and continue to run. A man I found I didn't know. A man with long hair.

His hair wasn't long when we met. He kept it short and well groomed. When he left, he began growing his hair out. To me it is a sign of his rebellion. A symbol. A reminder that he left, turning my world inside out with his leaving. A sign that he could easily do so again.

It's not that I think his hair looks bad long because it doesn't. He's beautiful to me either way. And though it's just hair and I really should let go of these feelings I find it hard to move beyond them. It's as if, in keeping the long hair, he's withholding making that final commitment to be fully back in this relationship. A foot out the door per se.

As I watch him flip his wet hair back from his face, smooth his hands over it and plaster it down with Bed Head styling gel, then spray it with more Bed Head product, I feel something inside me disconnect.

So I wait. And watch. And hope that one day he will walk through the door, his short hair neatly combed and the incredible smile he always wore creasing his face once again.

Life is a Highway

I've heard the expression Life is a Highway and I tend to disagree. It's more like a back country road filled with bumps, potholes and unexpected twists and turns. Much like driving at night with your headlights off and not being able to see what's directly ahead of you. So much more exciting than the highway where everything is clearly marked off in advance and you can see your destination just ahead.

Life is not for the timid. It is to be driven and explored and held in awe under all conditions.

I love my cats!

I have a couple of exotic cats that bring me great joy.  Zeus is my Savannah cat (part African Serval, part domestic cat) who has a temperament like a dog.  Not only does he play fetch, he loves to swim, climb ladders and terrorize dogs.  This is a cat with a ton of attitude.  Sometimes not a good one.  I haven't had a moments peace in the bath or shower since Zeus moved in.  If I close the door to the bathroom he runs and slams his body against it over and over again.  If I leave the door open he believes that's a invitation for him to share my shower.  Somehow that simply doesn't work for me.


Zeus came to us with a diet of raw chicken and Iams Cat Food. We've since changed his diet around finding the raw meats seemed to bring out more of the wild cat attitude in him.

The other cat, Cleopatra (Cleo for short) is a bengal bob.  Part bobcat, part asian leopard.  She's the best mouser I've ever encountered and she keeps the house spider free.  Cleo isn't much of a social cat, she prefers to stay to herself only occasionally gracing us with her presence and only on her time and terms.

Cleo is a petite cat but very agile. Her primary diet is Science Diet. She turns her nose up to "people" food (thank heavens!).

Since both cats are strictly indoor cats unless I take them out on a leash and harness, I'm very finicky about cat odors. Exotic cats seem to be a bit more pungent than domestic cats so I prefer Scoop Away cat litter for odor control in the litter box. I had invested in an electric litter box simply to keep the box continually clean. That didn't last. Zeus decided it was something to be attacked and destroyed. Whatta mess!