Scary Deer; Sinister Squirrels!

Posted on July 12, 2012 | 9 comments

Good morning Everyone!

Kayla was talking to me this morning about seeing three doe on the side of the road the other evening grazing, which reminded me about Kayla’s traumatic deer incident.

Doe Grazing

One Doe Grazing

Not many children carry a fear of deer, I realize, but I can trace this particular fear, which has only recently resolved, to a house-hunting expedition when she was almost five.  We were in a small town looking at houses, when we walked into one split-level ranch-style home with two bedrooms in what most people would think of as a basement area.

In one bedroom, someone apparently had thought it would be funny to take a deer head that was mounted to hang on a wall and instead tuck it neatly into a bed in the room.

Mounted Deer Head on Wall

A Mounted Deer Head on a Wall, where a Mounted Deer Head is Supposed to Reside!

That someone was not parent to an almost five-year old named Kayla.  She entered the room, and started to tremble all over.  Once we finally figured out what she was scared of, we scooted her out of there in a hurry, only to be told by her that she was certain that she saw the deer wink at her, and she could see its hooves in the bed peeking out at her!

Have you ever tried to reason with a four-year old?  I don’t recommend it, unless it is on a critical, concrete safety issue such as not playing with the stove or electrical plugs.  Apparently, a four-year old can understand avoidance of pain, but not logic with respect to the fact that mounted deer heads are not alive and do not have legs.

Ever since that day, any house hunting expedition or discussion of buying a house is prefaced by her trembling query, “But not the deer house, Mama.  Right?”

The Squirrel

I personally am not nearly as afraid of mounted deer heads as I am of the kamikaze squirrels that live along the roads that lead to our house.  I do not know what possesses these squirrels, but they run across the road recklessly regardless of approaching  vehicles.  Usually, in the spring time, you have one or two young squirrels that unfortunately are not smart enough to realize that running across the road, especially immediately in front of approaching cars,  is generally not good for a squirrel’s health,  but this spring, in our town, I have seen very large, healthy older squirrels skittle across the road without the slightest hesitation while I hit the brakes with all my might, steer to the side, swing my right arm out across Kayla’s chest as if my arm can protect her if neither the seat belt nor the air bag do, and pray that I miss the squirrel as well as the hill  on my side of the road.  The squirrels may not be suffering any anxiety from their lifestyle, but it’s about to give me nightmares!

Squirrel

A Squirrel Posted On Surveillance

All of which makes me wonder if, instead of simply comfortable but slightly stupid squirrels, my neighborhood is populated by evil squirrels hatching a sinister plot to take over the neighborhood through forcing every vehicle in it to wreck, thereby requiring the residents of the Sherwood Forest neighborhood (no lie, that is my neighborhood’s name) to have to walk everywhere. And after our neighborhood, what lies next for the squirrels?  The town, the county, the state, the country and then the world!   This theory is bolstered by the (out of neighborhood/out of county) squirrel that lies in wait for Mark on his way to work every day, ready to scurry across the road immediately in front of his car as soon as the squirrel sees it.

Maybe that’s why dogs always want to chase squirrels…

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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A Heart Aches…

Posted on July 11, 2012 | 8 comments

Good morning Everyone!

I have that rarest of opportunities in a working mom’s life to enjoy a little bit of a summer vacation.  Thanks to some very kind people at my firm, I have been granted a few weeks leave of absence to refresh my spirit and just rest. At one week into it, I wonder, given the time it takes to do the running around I need to do to get caught up while I am off of work, how I ever accomplished it while I was at work!

I had an appointment to go to yesterday in a nearby city where Mark’s Mom lives, so I took Kayla with me to visit with her while I took care of my business.  For no particular reason, I decided that we would drive a different way than usual to see if it was any shorter.  When we were in the very heart of (as Kayla would say) the middle of nowhere on our way to somewhere, I noticed a woman walking down the road carrying an object on my left.  In that split second that you have to observe things at 55 – 60 mph, it seemed to me that the women was very upset and sobbing, so I did the only thing I could do, which was turn the car around to see if there was something we could to do help.

What Kayla and I discovered was one of the saddest sights either of us has ever seen.  The woman was carrying her dog, which had obviously been hit by a car and just as obviously had just been discovered by her.  She was in those first awful throes of unrestrained grief, when try as you might, you can’t contain your feelings.  I pulled up to the side of the road, hoping against hope that the dog was still alive where we could help her get it to the vet in time, but there was nothing that could be done – the dog was already dead.

After asking the woman if we could at least drive her home (aside to family members – no I do NOT normally offer strangers rides in my car but this woman was genuine and I bet any of you would have done exactly the same thing) – she said no, her house was just steps away – Kayla and I drove off both feeling very sad, impotent to help and carrying a heavy, sad feeling in our chests.  I told Kayla that the feeling we had was exactly the feeling that is meant by the words, “my heart aches.”

I didn’t know this woman and know nothing about her, but I do know what it is like to have your dog die, and I can empathize further how awful it would be to discover the dog hit on the roadway.  So could Kayla.

The rest of the ride in to the city was very quiet.

This story is very different from most of the things that I share with you, but I do have a point to it.  Kayla, who currently would like to be a vet when she grows up, announced afterwards that when she had her own vet office, she was going to hand out flyers to every customer asking them to be sure to keep their dogs safe, and out of the road, and with this post, I guess I am asking those of you who don’t already to do the same.  Some accidents just can’t be avoided – for example, we had Mandy escape from us once when we first had her, and she proceeded to venture quickly forth on a mile and a half joy run, part of which involved running across a very busy road (we heard the brakes squeal as some kind person threw his or her brakes on hard to keep from hitting her), and there would have been nothing we could have done about that.  But I see a lot of dogs out running loose on the road, and not all of those can be escapees.  And, if you did let your dog out loose and it got hit, I certainly am NOT saying that you or the dog deserved what happened to you.  I am saying that your dog will  be a lot safer if kept properly in a fenced yard, large or small, and walked outside of the house on a leash when possible.

Let’s try to keep those heart aches down to a minimum!

And, on that sad note, have a good day everyone!  I will find something more lively to talk about tomorrow.

Nancy

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Hair Wars: Tangled

Posted on July 4, 2012 | 6 comments

Good morning Everyone!

One of the things I never expected to deal with as the mother of a girl was the fact that said girl would be in a permanent war with her hair.

Hair War!

Hair War!

This war is something completely foreign to me, especially since I unconditionally surrendered to my hair at about the age of 8.  I let it part where it wants to part, am reconciled to the fact that it is straight unless forced to curl with a perm (and then it stays curly foreeeeeevvvvvveeeeeeerrrrr), and know that I have very little say in the way it ultimately will look on any given day.  If it feels like having a good hair day, we will look good; if it feels like having a bad hair day, that’s why God invented baseball caps and head bands!

White Flag, surrender

The White Flag of Surrender

Kayla, however, has much more of a fighting spirit than I do about most things, so she is not about to surrender unconditionally to an inanimate object she controls.  All of these factors together brought us to the 10 minute conniption fit on Tuesday over the fact that her hair was in a mass of tangles, and it hurt to brush through it.  Well, those factors, along with the fact that the child had kept her hair up in a ponytail/bun without taking it down since Sunday morning.  When asked how she had washed her hair with it that way, she proudly announced that she had just dunked the entire ‘do in the water and spritzed some shampoo through it and then rinsed.  (Fellow parents can imagine the collective groan shared between Mark and I at that point.)

I told her she could either solve the problem, or I would solve it by brushing her hair.  This suggestion did not recommend itself to her, since when I pull the hairbrush through her hair, it does hurt some if the hair is too tangled.  I went on to finish getting ready and found, at the end of 10 minutes, that she had found a way to tame her hair into submission – mousse.  She had found some mousse, slathered her hair with it, and then brushed.

Styling Hair

Styling Hair

She enjoyed the brushing so much at that point that she kept on brushing her hair as we entered the car.  Once she finished, she pulled the visor mirror down, surveyed the results, and announced, “I like that mousse!  It brings out my inner curl!”

Rita Hayworth, Hiar Wave

Letting Your Inner Curl Shine

Have a great day everyone, and a fantastic Fourth of July!

Happy Fourth of July!

Nancy

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Mandy’s Turn

Posted on June 29, 2012 | 4 comments

husky basset hound mix

Me!

Hi!

I asked the people puppy what our  Mom is doing when she sits in front of the big black rectangle and moves her fingers while I eat breakfast.  My people puppy told me that Mom was writing, and showed me some of the posts about me in the blog our Mom writes.  I think she was a little confused when she wrote them.  She’s not really a morning person, you know – I have to work really hard to wake her up at the proper time.  Sometimes I have to circle the bed from 4 a.m. until almost 7!  I used to be able to walk on her hair to wake her up, but for some strange reason she cut most of it off, and now it is too short for me to do that.  It’s a shame, because she made some really neat noises when I would do it.

Newfound Gap

My people puppy

Any way, to help her out and make sure you don’t get the wrong idea, I thought I’d give you the real scoop on things.

Australian shepherd mix, dog in back yard, dog in sun

My sister, Tyra

It may surprise you to learn that I am adopted.  In fact, all of my siblings – my people puppy and Darwin and Tyra – are adopted as well.  It doesn’t matter, though, because Mom and Dad love all of us lots.  I do think it is a little unfair that the people puppy gets to go everywhere with them, and I don’t, but I try hard not to mind because I know that Mom and Dad love me best – why, they call me “Bad Dog” (that’s one of my nicknames) more than any of my siblings, which means that I am very special.  (My sister, Tyra, rolls her eyes when I say that like I am wrong, but I know that she’s just a little jealous about it.)

Black lab, crazy Dog

My brother Darwin – he’s a little crazy!

Although I would like to travel with Mom and Dad more, my life here is pretty good.  Darwin, my younger brother, and I play together a lot, although I am still having to teach him about proper food etiquette – I don’t like it when he tries to hang around my food bowl.  My sister Tyra is very sweet, but has a hard time moving around the house now without someone to help her.  Mom and Dad do a really good job helping her.  That’s a good thing, because if they didn’t do it, I’d probably have to!

Mom and Dad are a little odd about some things, though.  I’m always very polite and wait until they’re done, but if they’re finished with their food, why can’t I go ahead and help myself to it?  It’s not like they want it anymore!  The same is true with stuff in the trash can – does it really matter what happens to it once they are through with it?  Any reasonable person would know that such things are fair game once they hit the trash, but not Mom and Dad!  I guess every set of parents have their eccentricities.

Family picture

Mom and Dad, in 2008, during yet another trip I wasn’t allowed to go on!

They also spend part of their nights watching this square frame in the living room that makes sounds and shows pictures.  I watch it sometimes, but it,s not really that interesting – nothing on it is real.  You can see and hear the pictures, but there’s no smells attached to them.  Every thing that’s real has a specific smell.

Oh, and I need to set the record straight about the day I came home.  Mom wrote that I ran away twice, but I really didn’t.  I was just so happy that I had a chance to stretch my legs that I took a couple of joy laps.  The look on her face was really funny, too, each time that I did it!  The best part was when she picked me up in the pet store and the people puppy introduced me and told my story to every one we saw.  It really made my day!

Christmas, 2007

Mom in the morning – this was Christmas, 2007 and she was more awake than she usually is in the morning. Still, she wasn’t exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed, even then!

Uh-oh – I can hear Mom emerging from her lair now to get ready for work, so I better sign off.  Just remember what I said, keep the story straight and forgive Mom for her inaccuracies.  Poor thing, she doesn’t understand how to get up in the morning!

Mandy

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The Great Chicken Caper

Posted on June 26, 2012 | 4 comments

Good morning Everyone!

Welcome to Mystery Investigations – Going to the Dogs, a new reality show that chronicles the investigations performed by our intrepid adventurer who refuses to stop until she has reached the truth.  Today’s episode features “The Mystery of the Missing Chicken.”

I brought home a serving of chicken and rice as takeout one evening, and unfortunately Mark did not like the chicken.  I went ahead and fixed him a can of soup, so while I was doing so, I placed the chicken plate on the kitchen counter and then forgot about it – until I brought the soup bowl back in the kitchen, where I found the following plate awaiting me:

Rice, Chicken dinner, left over food

The Plate With (or Without) the Missing Chicken!

While I am not a trained investigator, it was difficult to miss the fact that the leg and breast quarter that formerly resided on the plate was now missing. Even worse, it was completely missing – there were no left over bones lying on the kitchen floor, no grease anywhere, no chicken skin or spare pieces of chicken.  Not a single speck.

Since Kayla wasn’t home that night, we only had three potential suspects.

1) Our oldest dog, Tyra, an Australian Shepherd mix who is 10 years old.

Dog

Tyra

2) Our middle dog, Mandy a/k/a Bad Dog, who is somewhere around 5, but I never can remember exactly how old she is.

Basset Hound Husky dog

Mandy, Our Husky-Basset Hound Mix

3) Our youngest dog, Darwin a/k/a No-No, who will be 3 on December 15.

Lab, Dog, Darwin

Darwin

Using the time-honored method of means, motive and opportunity, Tyra was quickly eliminated. Not only is she completely blind, but even on her hind paws she would never be tall enough to reach the top of the counter.

That left me with only two suspects remaining, Darwin and Mandy. Both of them had the means – Darwin is tall, and Mandy is long. Both of them had a sufficient motive – cooked chicken apparently is a far cry better than Kibbles and Bits! Finally, both of them had opportunity, since they both were out of sight for at least some period of time while I was sitting with Mark while he ate his soup. So instead I had to turn to the less reliable and normally inadmissible realm of character evidence.

Dog, eating, counter

Character Evidence, Exhibit A: Mandy Leaving the Counter in our Old House

In court, evidence regarding a person’s character in the past is not admissible to prove guilt for the crime the person is currently accused of. There are exceptions to that rule, and I judicially decreed another exception for dogs who steal chicken off of the counter.

Reviewing the character evidence available to me, it was clear that the culprit was not Darwin, but Mandy.

First, Bad Dog did not earn her name unjustly. She likes to chew, will do so unabashedly and will pluck things off of a table or a counter in a heartbeat, as this video shows:

Second, before Mandy was found and put in the Montgomery Humane Society Shelter for Kayla and I to find her, she survived scavenging in the dumpster at McDonald’s, and probably other places as well.  She has still not forgotten how to scavenge, and isn’t afraid to practice her survival skills at a moment’ s notice.

Third, Mandy was the only dog who looked like this when an inquiry was made about the chicken:

Mandy, dog, husky basset hound mix

Mandy post-chicken

Even without the post-chicken bone digestive problems the next day, I think I had an air tight case against her, don’t you?

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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How FRED killed the Caboose

Posted on June 22, 2012 | 4 comments

Good morning Everyone!

Whether or not I paid attention anytime else in my life, I did pay attention in Kindergarten and First Grade.  Really, I did.  And in my first classes, we were taught about trains.

CSX Freight Train

CSX Freight Train

Trains are fascinating to me even though I have never ridden a passenger train anywhere. (I don’t think riding the steam train around Disneyland counts.)  There’s something mesmerizing as you watch the giant cars trundle by, each one filled with something different, bound for who-knows-where, and many of the box cars(at least in the U.S.) decorated with spontaneous and colorful pieces of graffiti.

caboose

A Traditional Caboose

In elementary school, I learned that every train had at least one engine, the cars behind it and a caboose.  The caboose was one of my favorite parts of a train – not only does the word itself have a delightful ring to it, it usually had a unique shape and it was like having a period at the end of the sentence as far as a train was concerned.  Traditionally, the caboose was red, but over time many railroads began to paint the caboose to match their corporate colors.  Still, red or no, it remained the caboose, proudly marking the end of the train.

Burlington Northern, caboose

Burlington Northern Caboose

I can remember when most trains had a caboose.  One day in the 1970’s, some poor engineer in Illinois nearly had a heart attack when a car driven by my grandfather and carrying all three of us girls raced it all the way to a crossing.  By the way the train was wildly blowing its horn, I am sure the engineer thought we were trying to beat it over the tracks, but that was not so – Grandpa, at our request, was just trying to get us enough ahead of the train so that we could watch it go by, and see the caboose at the end.

Caboose interior, 1943

Caboose Interior, 1943, from wikipedia

A strange thing happened though, over time – the caboose gradually disappeared.  Sitting here today, I cannot specifically remember the last time I saw a caboose on a train (unless you count the steam train that travels around Disneyland, which I do not.)

Disneyland, steam train

One of the Steam Trains at Disneyland

I was caught at a train crossing yesterday, and watched the train cars flash by until we reached the end of the train – a coal car – and it seemed so unfinished without the caboose car to bring up the end.  I decided to investigate the mystery of the missing caboose, and after copious research (that translates to one google search and reading the entry on Wikipedia), I have discovered the identity of the person who killed the caboose – FRED.

FRED, train

FRED, the villain!

FRED is a device that reads all of the information that used to be gathered in the caboose and transmits it electronically to the front.  FRED also emits a flashing red light to mark the end of the train.  FRED has about as much personality as a blank wall in an unfinished house, yet it managed to kill of the caboose in the name of progress and profits.

I think someone needs to bring charges against FRED, don’t you?  The ghosts of a thousand thousand cabooses (or is that caboosi ?) demand it!

Abandoned caboose

An Abandoned Caboose in the desert

Have a great weekend everyone!

Nancy

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I think I need some more electronics….

Posted on June 21, 2012 | 2 comments

Good morning Everyone!

Last night, Mark and I were researching an issue that required us to consult two different websites at the same time, so he pulled out his iPad and I pulled out mine and we began.

iPad

An iPad

(Excuse me just a minute while I retrieve a stray handkerchief from No-no.)

Dog, Chewing, Handkerchief

No-no caught in the act!

While you may think two iPad’s in one family is excessive, that only begins the tally of the various computing electronic gizmos we have wandering around the house.   In addition to the two iPad’s (2), we also have my trusty Acer (3),  from which I write and find illustrations for my blogs and we have a Le Novo laptop (4) which we bought for Mark’s work three years ago that now we use for financial stuff, since his new job provided him with a laptop for his use. (5).  His work laptop comes home every night in his briefcase and goes back to work in the briefcase in the morning.

Briefcase, Laptop

Mark’s Briefcase is bigger than this!

My work computer (a Dell Inspiron) is a frequent but not permanent visitor at home, so I won’t include it in the tally.  A defunct Hewlett-Packard laptop (6) roams around the old house at will – it was Mark’s work computer for about five years, until it caught a virus that we couldn’t cure.  We have the HP NetBook (7) that was a Mother’s Day gift for me and which we now have passed down to Kayla.

In addition to the computers, we also have one iPhone (Mark’s)(8) and one smart phone (mine) (9), three Kindles (Kayla’s Kindle (10), my original Kindle (11) and my Kindle Fire (12) which Mark and Kayla gave me for Christmas last year) and one defunct Blackberry with no service that Kayla gets to use for her pretend cell phone.  (13).  I’m not entirely sure that we ever got rid of my first car phone, a bag phone that we got in the early 1990’s and which I used until 2001, but I better not count it since I haven’t visually verified its existence for a year or two.

Cell phones, smart phones

That doesn’t even begin to count the various toys that Kayla has which have some variation of a computer chip in them, since as the Nintendo DS and her portable DVD player.  (The portable DVD player was much cheaper than installing a DVD player in both cars and keeps her very entertained on long trips.)   Nor does it include the biggest computing devices in our possession – our two cars.  You’d be surprised (unless you’ve ever had to have work on one) how many parts of an automobile now require a working computer chip.

And of course, each electronic computing device comes complete with cords, charging cords, instructions and all other kinds of stuff that are just begging for me to lose them.

I guess the bright side to this embarrassment of riches is that we have the makings of our very own Cray computer should the world-as-we-know-it ever come to an end!

I think I need some more electronics…..

Have a good day everyone!

Nancy

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Unpacking

Posted on June 20, 2012 | 2 comments

Good morning Everyone!

Going on even a mini-vacation is fun; bringing everything back to normal after the mini-vacation – not so much.

Destin harbor’s dunes

Last week, we went down to Destin for the last half of the week, as we do most Junes around Father’s Day.  I have a professional meeting that is usually held that weekend, and this year was no exception.

Our trip lasted three days plus traveling time.  Packing and getting the dogs to the kennel and all the other things that are involved in traveling took about four hours, along with a five-hour driving time.  Getting everything back to normal after the trip took….Well, let’s just say we’re not there yet.

I don’t know why, but it appears to be a rule of nature (or more properly, a rule of my nature) that if the suitcase is not unpacked the day I arrive home the moment it is brought in from the car, a significant period of time elapses before it gets unpacked.  Three days after we have returned from the trip, it is still sitting in the middle of the floor, daring me to do something about it.  Apparently, my subconscious idea to use it as an auxiliary bureau drawer indefinitely will not work out – it currently is taking up enough room in our bedroom that I am going to have to break down and put some shoes back in my closet when I take them off at night or we won’t be able to walk around the bedroom.  (See, The Longest Walk.)

That won’t do at all, now, will it?

Boots and Shoes

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Pickles and The Melting Pot

Posted on June 12, 2012 | 6 comments

Good morning Everyone!

Consider, for a minute, the humble pickle.  How did a transmogrified cucumber come to be one of the standard items in most American refrigerators?

A dill pickle

A Dill Pickle

In our house, the word “pickle” means only one thing – kosher dill pickles, preferably made by Vlasic although we will settle for Mount Olive.  We have at least one family member (Kayla) who loves pickles just a bit too much.  The child actually drinks (when she can get away with it; both parents forbid her from doing it whenever we can catch her at it) the juice from the pickle bottle and would willingly include a pickle as a staple at breakfast, lunch and dinner.  I know this because I caught her eating two large kosher dill pickles for breakfast the other day.

After I waved Kayla off her third helping of pickles that day, I started wondering about their history – how did someone discover how to take a cucumber and transform it into a pickle?  The answer, unfortunately, appears to be lost in the mists of time.  Pickling is an ancient form of food preservation, and as early as 4000 years ago, people in India were soaking cucumbers in a water/salt mixture with spices to make pickles.  The Romans learned about cucumbers and pickling from India, and carried the idea with them as they proceeded to conquer a good bit of the known world.

In most parts of the world, the term “pickle” refers to any food that has been preserved in brine, vinegar or in rare cases, a lye solution.  However, here, in both the United States and Canada, “pickle” most commonly refers to the dill pickle so beloved by my child, which is created by fermenting/soaking cucumbers in a briny mixture that include a lot of dill and some garlic, among other spices.

Julius Caesar, pickles

Julius Caesar, lover of pickles

A number of famous people have either liked or used pickles to their advantage – Julius Caesar is rumored to have liked pickles, while Christopher Columbus fed his sailors pickles to help ward off scurvy.  Pickles are mentioned twice in the Bible at Numbers 11:5 and Isaiah 1:8.

Vlasic kosher dill spears

Vlasic Kosher Dill Spears, Beloved by my Family

Vlasic pickles have been around since before World War II.  The original Vlasic entrepreneur, Frank Vlasic, came to America in 1912 from Poland.  He started a milk and cheese business, which his son, Joe, carried on.  Joe decided to expand the family business from just milk and cheese to include Polish pickles.  Vlasic pickles as a brand though did not truly take off until during World War II, when Joe decided to market his pickles in glass containers.  Now, Vlasic pickles are the top-selling brand of pickles in America.

American Melting Pot

American Mellting Pot

So, in one of those odd twists of fate we often find, a food invented in India,carried by Romans throughout Europe, carried by Europeans to the New World and perfected by a Polish immigrant’s son in the bustling city of Detroit became an All-American food that is a staple at American picnics and barbecues.  A better example of the concept of the American melting pot would be hard to design!

Have a great day!

Nancy

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“Somewhere Safe”

Posted on June 8, 2012 | 12 comments

Good morning Everyone!

Pens

I have long known that someday I will open a closet door, and in a manner akin to Fibber McGee’s closet, every pen I have ever lost will come cascading out of it onto my head, at which time I will have the fortunate opportunity to practice self-restraint by NOT swearing, but rather observing , “Behold, my head hath just been struck by one thousand three hundred seventy-eight pens in less than five seconds.”

Fibber McGee's Closer

Fibber McGee’s Closet

What I have recently discovered is that the contents of the closet will not only include pens but all of the items that I have stored “somewhere safe” over the years, only to discover when I needed an item that “somewhere safe” was so safe that it even protected the item from me.

The frustrating thing about “somewhere safe” is that once I start looking for a particular item that resides there, I see the item in my mind’s eye, and have the nagging feeling that if I just thought a little bit harder I could find its secure hiding place.

Safe

Somewhere safe?

The latest in a long list of items that I can’t seem to put my hands on is the card reader which will read Mark’s Nikon camera card.  When I was searching for the download cable, which I never found, I ran across it, and I could have sworn (another feature of “somewhere safe”) that I placed it with the other download cables that didn’t work.  It’s not there now, though.

Alien, Remote

Alien with his sinister experiment remote control

I do wonder where the pens and other stuff are being hidden until that grand glorious day when they all shower themselves upon me from Fibber McGee’s closet’s first cousin – Shangri-La, where a couple of bored monks are making life merry by watching me hunt for items they have “borrowed” through a hidden camera?  Maybe they are being stored in a secret vault buried deep in a missile silo in Nebraska or Montana as part of a secret government conspiracy.  Maybe they are being abducted by aliens as part of a sinister experiment with purpose unknown.   (Exactly how many ways can you use a plethora of pens and papers, sprinkled through with loose screws, a card reader, several books, twelve magazines and at least three chew toys?)  Maybe they are being stolen and stored by a doomsayer anxious to survive the days after the apocalypse with enough pens to see him or her through.  All I know for sure is that they can’t possibly be disappearing because I simply lose them.

Until the answers are revealed, if they ever are, open your closets with care.  I’d hate it if you got injured opening my “safe” storage cabinet by mistake.

Have a great day!

Nancy

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