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The search is over. We have a winner. She comes home in 1 month. Feast your eyes.
She’s (currently) a two week old Cockapoo. She’s very snuggly and smells nice. I wuv her and will be fighting the kids to hold her (yay for me…I’m way bigger and can knock them over if I need to ;) )
I am now taking suggestions for names. We have a big white board in the kitchen. Any ideas?
While clearing out his Grandpa’s attic, my husband came across boxes of old pictures, yearbooks, trophies etc. Basically, a 1980’s time capsule. One item I found particularly telling. This is a birthday card I gave him, probably when he turned 17 or 18 (which would put me at the same age).
Okay…fine so far. Then you open it.
No truer words have ever been spoken. Yay me for knowing who I am at 17 
Lemme just say, I love Paint Shop Pro. A few months ago I realized I hated the photos on my blog. They were blah. I’ve said numerous times I don’t/can’t scrapbook. I blog. Anyway…I went on ebay and purchased for about $18 with shipping an older version of Paint Shop Pro. I have version 9. Did I mention I luuuurve it? I know Photoshop may be the work horse of amateur photo editing, but it’s too confusing for me. It must involve math.
Last week I posted a tribute to my Grandfather. To complete it, I broke in to my parents home while they were on vacation and stole a picture of said Grandfather. Though lovingly framed, the thing was in pretty bad shape. 60+ years can do that to a photograph. It was badly creased, washed out and covered in old tape glue.
Here’s what I started with:
Here’s the finished product.
Ta da! I live to impress/amuse myself
P.S. Er…um…you don’t want to know how much time I wasted spent doing this. Heh heh.
I found him like this. He watched for 20 minutes. There you go. 
It’s getting down to the wire. Jim wants to get a puppy in August. That’s like FIVE WEEKS! I think I may have zeroed in on a breed. My stipulation (if you recall) was that it be medium to small in size and low-shedding. I’m thinking perhaps a Cockapoo. We had one when I was a kid (er…um…until my mother sold it to some “farmers”). We like Winnie, my mom’s bichon frise, but like our carpets, we need a dog that doesn’t show dirt as much.
Meanwhile, Jim found this picture. This is Buckwheat, his childhood dog. She apparently followed him home one day and the rest became the stuff of legend. She was fierce, loyal, protective, worked on a cure for cancer or something…
I have no idea what kind of dog she was, clearly a terrier mix I’m thinking.
I’ve gotten addicted to Petfinder. My only concern with a lot of these shelter dogs is that many of them were rescued from puppy mills. I’m afraid of puppy mill dogs. If anyone can disabuse me of my fear, I’d be happy to listen.
Also, if anybody knows anyone who will have cockapoos available in August…
I believe, all of our grandfather’s who served in WWII were heroes….every single one of them. But some mens’ wars were harder than others. I believe my grandfather’s was one of the hardest of all.
He was a pilot. He flew “The Hump.” His name was Robert Lloyd Gorrell and he would have been 87 this month.
Like all of my grandparents, Grandpa Gorrell was born and raised in Toledo. He and my grandmother (Ellen Matthews) were childhood sweethearts. I believe they were the loves of each others lives. Cliche as that is, in their case it was true. Grandpa had good taste. This picture was taken when they were teenagers. (I totally think I inherited her smirk.)
I don’t know what his plans were, but like millions they were waylaid after December 7, 1941. My grandfather enlisted in the Army Air Corps (before there was an Air Force) and was soon sent on one of the most dangerous missions of the war.
In May of 1942, the Japanese cut off land supply routes to China. In response, the U.S. organized the largest strategic air bridge in the world. The airbridge became the “road of life” for the people of China as pilots transported critical food and supplies to them. The air bridge became known as “The Hump” because the pilots flew a hump-shaped path over the Himalayan mountains.
The casualties were staggeringly high. On each trip, pilots faced treacherous terrain, bad weather, equipment failures and attacks from enemy fighters. The group lost as much as half of the aircraft flying. Often times, crews were given the horrific task of flying in to retrieve debris from previous crashes so they could use the parts to repair the remaining planes in the fleet. The debris must surely have included their brothers who didn’t make it out alive. And the next day, they were up flying the same route that claimed their friends. And the day after that.
Understandably, after my grandpa came home, he never wanted to fly again. He lived with PTSD decades before it was recognized as such. He and Grandma had four children of whom my dad is the oldest and named after him. Grandpa ran Gorrell Cleaners with his older brother, Uncle Chuck (who turned 95 this year!). Every now and again, I’ll run into someone who remembers our family dry cleaning business and it makes me smile.
I regret that I didn’t get to know Grandpa Gorrell as an adult. I have mostly childhood memories of him. He died right after I turned 18 but I was a normal, self-absorbed teenager then. I remember he was smart and wickedly funny (jokes I cannot repeat here) and pretty much drove everyone nuts. He had great love for all of us which he sometimes didn’t know how to show. When he did, it was fierce and memorable like the time he marched into my Dad’s elementary school to stick up for him against his teacher (at a time I’m sure most dads never thought of such a thing). I know he was immensely proud of my sister and me. I know that if he were alive today, there probably wouldn’t be a house in Lincolnshire who didn’t know when my sister’s show was on or that his Other Grandaughter is a lawyer (and we would both roll our eyes everytime…in fact I did just now as I typed it). He was fiercely proud of all of his grandkids. Some of them were too little to remember, but I do and will forever. Ask me anytime Scott, Jeff, Emily, Steve, Ellen or Katie. I will tell you.
I miss you Grandpa and I love you too. Happy birthday.
”Hump” Links
http://www.enquirer.com/editions/2000/09/08/loc_hump_crews_tell_of.html
Big changes afoot in my household. Baby teeth are making way for big teeth, training wheels for two-wheelers. And I may have to officially turn in my Soccer Mom membership card. It was time. With gas prices at eleventy dollars a gallon and me with a nearly 100 mile round trip commute, something had to give.
Sooo… we’ve gone from this…
To this…
Ta da!!! Take THAT Saudi Arabia!
Late Happy Memorial Day!
Because my son pestered us to death and because we wanted to see it anyway, we went to see the new Indiana Jones. I won’t reveal any pertinent details (shhhh…everyone explodes at the end), but I enjoyed it. It is not Raiders (what is?), but it is good. Go into it with no expectations other than having a good time and rooting for Indy, and you’ll have as much fun as we did. Also…Shia Lebeauf…pitch perfect. Karen Allen…rocks the Casbah.
That said, I got some “bad mommy” looks. The movie isn’t really for five year old girls (about five swear words, tons of violence…and skeletons…plus she thinks it’s called Kingdom of the Crystal Scones). I have one of those (a five year old girl…not a scone). She went. It is what it is. Rest assured, snooty people in the front row, she completely understands that it’s not okay to say dammit or punch Communists in the face (sadly though, she has witnessed her mother do one out of two, I’ll never say which) . I promise. Plus, her brother had a rip roaring good time and she gets to pick the next one (translation: Her brother and Dad better plan on bucking up for Beverly Hills Chihuahua).
Also, she laid this on me when we got home.
She: Mom, do we have a lot of money?
Me: Uh…er…why do you ask?
She: Well, I was thinking about that pony, Butterscotch.
Me: (Crikey…I thought we were over that). Mmm hmm?
She: I was thinking I know how you can get enough money to buy me Butterscotch.
Me: Er…uh…
She: You just have to enter a Beauty Contest. You will win and then you can buy me Butterscotch with the money.
Solid plan!
****Breaking news alert****
It’s officialy, everyone in my family can ride a bike on two wheels. And, in typical 2nd child fashion, I have no video or pictures of it. On the other hand, I was too busy watching and cheering for baby girl to bother about filming/taping the Big Event. Her dad is officially dog tired from running alongside her.
Our method is as follows:
1.) Magic Bike
2.) Unfinished sidewalks
That’s right, we have a little blue bike that my brother-in-law gave to my son some X-mases ago. They’ve both kind of outgrown it so we took of the training wheels and have trained both kids on it. I might consider renting out said magic bike if anyone’s interested. It’s magic! Next, we let ‘em ride on the sidewalk. It’s unfinished, so the kids go a stretch and then ride off into the safe, soft grass. After 2 days, she veered toward the driveway and off she was down the road.
There will be band-aids this summer. Lots and lots of bandaids.
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