D is for DOGS -What else? #AtoZ

Being that I have multiple dogs sniffing all over my site, I had to take advantage of the D day. Let me introduce you to the crew.

The Swaz

Alpha Dog is The Swaz. He's an old, white-faced retriever who likes to spread his enormous body across the entry ways of dark rooms. I've almost ended my life by tripping over him quite a few times. Swaz has never been what one would call an active dog. When I throw the ball, he knows I'm not going anywhere, so what's the rush to get it back? He'll simply stroll to the ball, place it in his enormous jaws, and eventually I may see it again. He's a love but at 12½, I worry about him.

Millie & Erica

Millie the Rescue Dog: She's a Terrier Mix who probably hasn't seen a pedigree in the family for many years. Her tongue is too big for the mouth, so it sticks out but dries quickly. She hops into bed between my husband and me every night and makes odd groaning noises. My kids enjoy her squeaky toy gadget. Touch her belly and she grunts.

Goofy Ruby

Ruby the goofy grand dog: No longer my problem! I say that because the son took her back to Charleston after she chewed up every pair of my daughter's underwear. When we go to see her, she lets us know she still loves us by peeing on the floor or taking a flying leap to give us a sloppy kiss. She's a Dino dog (Flintstones) for sure.

I do not know the cute puppies on my site; however, if Erica has her way, we just might. Catch my words tomorrow when I explore the Empty Nest with Letter E.

That Closet Did It to My Clothes Again! #AtoZ

Back in the good old days, Mom would wash our clothes and hang them outside on a laundry line stretched between the house and a tree. Not only would our duds come back smelling fresh, but also they stayed the same size. Never did I have the experience like one has with dryers. You know it. You stick your shirt in the dryer and in the morning you have new Barbie clothes.

Which brings me to my latest problem--my closet.

We live in the south where when the temperatures break into three digits, the horses sweat, men perspire, and I glow. So living in such a hot and humid climate, why did our builder leave out an air conditioning vent in the closet? My closet has gotten so hot that every summer I go to pull out clothes, and dag-gummit, they've shrunk. It's a definite dryer effect. Why just the other day, those jeans wouldn't zip! And what's worse, the longer the clothes stay in the closet, the smaller they get.

 Now comes the problem of what to do with the shrunken clothes. At first I didn't have a clue, but after going to The Memphis Grizzlies game, I've figured it out. Those poor Grizzly Dancers wiggled on the basketball court in their underwear. Then they switched out of their underwear into some stretchy outfit that must have shrunk too because their butt cheeks were hanging out of the back. I think I'll send my little clothes to those poor naked dancers, then I'm going to call my builder and ask him to install a vent. This clothes shrinking business has got to stop.

See you tomorrow when I tackle the letter D. If you look around my blog, I bet you can figure out what this one's about.

Basement Phobia

So Fun!

It was the place where yellowed stuffing spilled from tattered couches and humming heaters sang mournful duets with spinning dryers. I'm referring to that musty, spider-infested basement. That place I crept into only when forced to retrieve Mystery Date. All that bravery just to end up with the Dud at the door. After all, if I was going to risk my life to get that game, at least I could've found the stud muffin in the white tux.

That light bulb dangling from a cord was never enough to give me the peace of mind to be way downstairs--at least not alone. What was it about the basement that would scare the Buggy Man, Phantom of the Opera, or even the millions of famous dead people who we've ooed and awed over throughout history? Tackle the basement, suckers!

The shadows reflecting from the dull light gave me the tingling feeling that something eight-legged or the Mystery Date Dud was crawling on my forearm. While downstairs, I'd often hop into a hula hoop spin without the plastic because, I'd felt something creepy.

And the noise of the heater with the glowing orange light added to the drama. I'm with you Kevin, my Home Alone heater came to life when doing laundry too. In real life, we don't need  Hollywood scare music to add to the tension. Haunted houses on Halloween, nah, just find the basement.

Now that I'm a grown up, I live in a state so humid that the ground would swallow those dirt dwelling rooms. Not many basements in Memphis--only attics. Yikes! That's another post.

I'm leaving you with a fun link for those too young to remember Mystery Date or old enough to enjoy a nostalgic look back to the fun we used to have. Tune in Monday, and I'll tell you all about my closet.

Please click the Picket Fence. Thanks!