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Recycling Christmas Cards

I’ve got issues with Christmas. I not-so secretly love it. A lot. I’m a completely nostalgic, over the moon, card sending, cocoa sipping, carol singing ninny. I already wrote about the cards I’ve been sending for years. There’s a side effect to that. Because I send cards, I get cards. Lots of them.

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Another little fact I love. Except I have a hard time throwing them away. Enter hoarding. Sometimes there’s family pictures or cute notes attached. Always, there’s potential. Crafting potential that I’ve never fully exploited. Because that’s another part of my Holiday Sickness. The overwhelming urge ‘to craft’. Read more

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Holiday Traditions With Dogs

This weekend I spent considerable time transforming this…

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into our annual Christmas Card. The finished product does not very much resemble the original. This required all the best photo editing skills I’ve accumulated through work on this very blog.

I do this every year. Not so much the editing, but the card. I’ve done it every year for nigh on 7 years or more. I’d have to pull out all the cards to count. I love these cards as documents of our life with pack o’ mutts. The conversations behind such and such year’s idea. The pictures taken in our former house vs. the new. The years we managed to include a transient resident. Our friends and family love them (so they say). Although, it may put us firmly in ‘crazy dog people’ category. I’m ok with that. Yes, I have 6 (or so) dogs! Look how damn cute they are! Read more

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Just Keep Talking

I keep harping on this, but I’ve fallen down on the blogger job. Perhaps you noticed. Posting dried up because I couldn’t think anymore. I couldn’t see my way through 500 words, let alone a 1,000. Coherent topics suddenly became daunting. And I’m not sure we were all that coherent to begin with. I’m writing about this in the past tense. Like its behind us. And I’ve produced a little, so maybe it is. Or… I am lowering the bar. Ding, ding, ding. That feels righter. Righter? Yes, righter. For right now, its righter. Sorry. Watch that bar fall.

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A wise commenter recently suggested I do a week of just pictures. Back when I was only contemplating breaks. Instead of firmly embracing 3 weeks of them in a death grip bear hug. I dismissed that as poppycock. Slacker poppycock. Why bother with pictures of chickens dogs and vegetables? Words! I need words! I chose zero over half ass. That was probably wrong. I’ve come to realize. I criticize my own content. I clothesline myself on that high bar, and leave you hanging for 19 days or so. Oops. Read more

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State of The Dog

The state of my own personal nation. The Nation of Dog. Just because I am currently not a good blogger, doesn’t mean the world of dog – old dogs, lazy dogs, bad dogs – doesn’t continue to turn. It does. They do. My dogs.

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An intently interested boy dog, who turns out not to be the subject of this post. So he gets the photo credit.

You deserve an update, but its not that exciting. Primarily, we are maintaining the status quo. Holistic vets, raw food, plus some updated spending. There are still dogs to walk, dogs to clean up after, dogs to snuggle, and Pugs to tell “No! Cut that out!”. Singular Pug. He’s plenty. And before my very eyes they are slipping. Ever so slightly. All my best efforts and I’m powerless against it. I chalk it up to short days, cold weather and more napping. That’s part of it. But we’ve also entered this phase. Things aren’t going to get better. My senior dog worries continue to compound. More than half the pack (including Ford) is over 11, with a mixed genetic bag that isn’t doing them any favors. There’s not much I can do about any of it.

The highlights? Read more

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The Implications of Being Pregnant

Wait, wha? Pregnant? Who said anything about being pregnant? Certainly not me. Not here. Until, just now. Oh, right. Pregnant. Knocked up. In the family way. Me. We. Currently. Surprised?

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Apologies for the crappy picture. There’s a humanoid in there. Believe me. Via Ultrasound via cell phone camera, does not make for the best image quality. Plus Ultrasound pictures are always kind of creepy.

I’m not. Or I shouldn’t be. Because it was ‘planned’. At least as much as anything in life can be ‘planned’.
Although, it enhanced the tremendous amount of respect I have for the birth control I’ve always taken for granted. What does surprise me, is the effect it’s had on me. Already. Physically. Mentally. In all the ways. All that time I’ve not been writing, I have been sleeping. Epic sleeps. I’m just coming around from a good solid 12 hours. That’s the new standard. 14-16 hours also pretty effortless. I may take a nap later to up my total. If I’m not sleeping, I’m pursuing other new found past times, like staring off into space, watching past seasons of TV shows I’m not all that interested in. Occasionally, if I’m really with it, I read. It has taken me 2 weeks to write this post. I’m not even kidding. I’m fresh out of giddy-up. This person building, even in it’s earliest stages, turns out to be really, really taxing. And not in a way I can just write a check for. Read more

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