Introducing Wheatley

Well, we had two adorable puppies. Now we have three!

Welcome our newest family member, Wheatley. Wheatley is an 11 week old Boston Terrier pup who joined us from a lovely breeder in Cleveland. We’re working on integrating him with our current herd of dogs, cats, and people, and he is settling in nicely. Just to eek out a bit more puppy cute, here are Rosie and Tennant in the car on the way to pick up Mr. Wheatley. 9 hour drives, two little puppies, and a boy with a broken foot. Still, I think he was worth it.

Also, in commemoration for currently having 4 dogs and a cat in the house, along with 4 people…

I am planning to join Puppies Anonymous.

Hello, my name is Arizela and I am a puppy-holic.

There’s got to be a 12 step program for addiction to adorable, right? Right?

As promised, here’s a pic of our new roommie, Apollo. Rosie and Tennant are in the picture for scale.

 

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Monkeys and Kids and Bears, Oh My

The kiddo and I headed out last week to a school field trip. The day was lovely despite reports of pending rain, and we spent almost 6 hours roaming around the local zoo. Kiddo’s stress fractured right foot didn’t slow us down too much, although pushing him around in a rented wheel chair over the hilly and often unpaved terrain was beastly on my legs. My muscles were sore for about two days.

One of our favorite exibits was the Bonobo house, where three Zoo Babies were playing around right beside the glass. There is nothing cuter in this world than a baby bonobo.

Well, maybe puppies and my kiddo. Maybe. 🙂

We also enjoyed a number of other creatures and sights at the zoo, and got a few really good pictures of the lions and polar bears. All in all, it was an enjoyable trip for all of us, and I snagged a few nuggets of inspiration from the critters and terrain. Being at the zoo reminded me that sometimes, a field trip is just what you need to refresh an old idea or refill the creative well. Kiddo and I are planning on hitting a few of our favorite field trip spots after he’s back on his feet – the zoo, the aquarium, the history and air force museums, and maybe even the ball park.

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Yes, I am not dead

So it’s been a busy couple of months since last I tossed a post up. I have a new roommate (Hi, B!) who also happens to be my aunt/adopted-sister. We’re getting along great, though she’s getting that look from me a lot, for over paying the rent I didn’t ask for and for doing too many chores around the house. I’m introducing her to geekdome, starting with a Firefly ep a day. June and July will be for Dr. Who, I think.

B brought along her dog, too, which  means we now have 3 puppies in the house, although hers is a bit larger and considerably older than my little ones. Apollo, aka Big Dog, is a 9 year old German Shepard who will do his best not to take your arm off with treats, although I hear one should use caution when approaching with turkey in hand. As a retired guard dog, he probably could rip off arms, but he’s gotten to be a little bit of a softy lately. Greebo, my 16lb, 12 year old tom cat, has put Apollo in his place a couple of times already. Hey, I’d be scared of a pissed off Greebo, too. Apollo pics to come!

Meantime, here’s some puppy cuteness. Rosie (4 months) has convinced me she’s half mountain-goat. She’s just learned to climb up on my desk and on top of the back of the couch. Tennant (6 months) is still nursing his weak leg a bit, so he’s not climbing yet, but both of them make good imitations of jumping beans when someone comes in the house and they’re stuck behind the baby gates. We’re working on the commands “QUIET” and reinforcing the potty training. Still having accidents everyday from one or the other (or both, boo!), but they’re getting the hang of letting us know when they have to go, go, GO!

On a personal front, I’ve been dealing with some residual grief that was doing its best to scramble my book and put my writing on long-term hiatus. I’m going to be spending the next couple of weeks stitching the poor book back together from the hack job I did attempting to revise it while in mourning, but right now I’m avoiding looking at it by spending all my time in my new sewing room (formerly the dining room). We’ve got two new people-babies on the way in the extended family, and nothing gets me excited about quilting like babies. So far, we’ve done a teddy bear wall hanging, a panel blue Pooh Bear quilt and matching rag quilt, and I’ve bought the fabric for a beautiful pieced quilt in pink, yellow, and green that I’m calling Baby’s Butterflies.

I promised to teach B how to quilt and scrapbook while she was here, and she promised to do something about my gardening-by-neglect landscaping. She’ll be with us through the summer, while we await the arrival of her new granddaughter, but then she’s off to Montana where a tall, dark, and handsome cowboy (literally) is waiting to carry her off into the sunset. Lucky girl!

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Puppeh Update

Let the cute begin!

Rosie at 11 weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tennant at 22 weeks

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Losing My Temper

You know that old saying about redheads having fiery tempers?

It’s actually pretty rare for me to really pop off in a social setting. When I do go off, it tends to involve a lot of yelling, explicatives, and on rare occasions an actual battle scream in honor of my native warrior heritage. I’m a bit freer with my temper at home, much to the irritation of my husband and son, but in public and particularly online, I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt way more than they probably deserve.

Last week, however, my patience was worn impossibly thin by a combination of exhaustion, my son’s attention seeking via destruction, and the unending arguments of a particularly twatty little brat on my writer’s chat. He made disparaging remarks about my taste as a reader, sarcastic comments about my ability to understand what a plot was, and in general irritated me. The next day, he made a snide remark or two the moment I entered the room.

I popped.

I said some unkind things. The words asshole and punk-ass might have been involved. I allegedly have since referred to said brat privately as “pimpledick” but if that’s the case, I’ll never confess.

The relationships I foster in my life are always held up to one metric: do I like the person I become when I’m in that relationship?Let’s face it – none of us are perfectly true to our own identities. Each of us has different roles, different aspects of our personality that come into play given the circumstances (family vacation vs. honeymoon), our surroundings (office vs. home), and the people we are exposed to (lover, friend, mother, enemy, bully, twatty little brat…)

Some people bring out the best in us, encourage us to strive to be more even tempered, more empathetic, more kind. Others seem to have an innate ability to make us grind our teeth together and wish for a set of brass knuckles. Still others turn our personalities toxic in more subtle ways – gossip, mean-spiritedness, slights and digs that harm our self-concept or make us feel inferior.

Relationships that bring out the best – or the worst – in people can be a powerful addition to fiction. I always try to steer clear of the people who bring out my worst qualities or turn me into something I have no interest in becoming, whether that’s a gossip hound or a raging spitfire, but sometimes it’s a lot of fun to stick my characters in a room with someone who makes them act like someone they would rather not be.

Are there any toxic relationships in your fiction? How do your characters deal with toxic people?

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