pauvre chiene

Our poor little Ally has done quite a job injuring herself. Monday afternoon I ran out to the store for some groceries, as usual I left Ally sprawling on the couch, the door shut, the living room window I left open. I don't seriously think we'll have any criminals climbing through our window to steal anything. We have nothing to steal and besides Ally can sound pretty vicious if you don't know her. A potential thief would never know all she'd do is lick them or hide under a table depending on her mood. So, yeah, I often leave the window open with no dire consequences. When I returned from the store Ally had miraculously transported her lazy self from the couch to under the rose bush (her new favorite place to sleep) oh and it's not much a bush...more like a rose stem...branch? anyways, I found this puzzling. Our neighbors weren't home so they couldn't have let her out, then I realized she'd jumped through the window! Quel surprise! I had no idea she was so agile and what possibly could have motivated her to attempt such a physical feat? She was happy to be outside and she seemed fine so I didn't really care. It was actually pretty funny to think of her leaping out the window. we went for our evening walk all seemed normal.

the next morning we get up and she's limping. Hmmm...what could she have done to herself? Dh takes her on an abbreviated morning walk due to her limp, we leave her sacked out on the couch per usual. I only had to work a half day on Tuesday when I got home she's still in the exact same spot. She wags her tail aggressively to greet me, bu t doesn't get up. Two hours later she still hasn't moved from the couch. Not to get some water, to go outside, no movement. I decide to check out her leg/paw and see what's the matter. I thought maybe she has a thorn or something in her paw. She lets me look at her paw and gently feel up her leg. No reaction. So I, ever so gently move her paw up and down. With almighty squeal she gets of the couch and hobbles outside on three legs giving me a reproachful stare. Now I feel terrible, like I'm the one whose injured her. After a little coaxing she let's me come near her and pet her but she won't put any weight on her paw.

I call the vet to see if I can get her that afternoon. "non, madame." is the reply, "demain." Tomorrow, OK. I make an appointment for first thing in the morning. DH, who can be a little over protective of his puppy has a small fit but soon gets over it when I tell him he can call the vets and explain to them in French why they must see our dog today. We decide it's only her leg she's not going to keel over on us in the night because she hasn't seen a vet.

The next morning she won't eat, she has trouble getting off the bed. DH carries her to the car, but is forced to let her get in on her own because she's too big and our car is too small for him to put her in without injuring her more. The vet takes x-rays shakes his head over how much pain she must be in. We did the right thing giving her aspirin the night before, he approves. After a traumatic few minutes with the x-ray machine we look at the pictures of her bones. Nothing seems to be broken. The vet, a balding Frenchmen with a gold chain with whatooks like a large piece of tooth or small bone fragment on it, which you can see clearly bouncing against his bared chest - his shirt was left unbuttoned down to his round belly, wraps her leg up and gives her a shot for the pain and swelling. A pulled muscle or torn tendon was the verdict. Honestly, I'm not too sure which because everything was in half English half French. She goes back tomorrow for a check up.

I don't think it's too serious as she perked right up and even wanted to go for a walk later that day. She's been trucking along on her bandaged leg with only a slight limp now and again. We've been careful not to let her over do it. but I think she is, thankfully, on the mend. I can't wait to see what Monsieur Veterinaire will be wearing tomorrow!

look at her walking along. What a faker. We were so worried about her and now she's just hunky dory. OK, OK you're right it's the pain killers and wrapped leg support, but still. she seems awfully normal for having us so worried! Les chiens, heh!

early morning

Each morning DH and I take turns getting up at 6:30 a.m. with the dog. Neither one of us are morning people so we agree to share the pain of waking up and going for a 30 minute walk at the crack of dawn. Although there are days that I just can't stay awake after the walk.
This was one of those mornings. DH awoke to find both me and Ally curled up snoozing away on the couch. Aaaahhh, it's actually kinda cute, isn't it?

I absolutely love when I fall asleep only to wake up and find Ally, who had been lying at the other end of the couch when I curled up, practically on top of me. She just wiggles her way down the couch till we're sharing a pillow and she it snoring contentedly in my ear. It's totally endearing.

Healthy? I think not.

Who on earth decided that jogging was a healthy thing to do? If I ever find them I'll wring their scrawny little neck! As perhaps you have guessed by the previous statements I thought it would be a good idea to start jogging. After taking Ally to Botanic, the local garden/pet store, and discovering that she weighs about 85 pounds I decided that our daily hour long afternoon walks just weren't doing the trick.

Both the hubby and I had deluded ourselves into thinking that she looked a bit slimmer but the scales do not lie. Perhaps we thought she looked so svelte because of the tubba-bubba we pick up on our daily walks past the farm. Let me explain. There are some nice paths down the road that go past our neighbors farm through a bunch of fields, past a horse paddock to ...well I don't know exactly where the path ends I've never continued on straight. At different points the path breaks off and you can do two different loops. I find this a good place to walk Ally because I can let her off her leash and we don't have to worry about traffic. There is a house near the farm on this path where a very large, friendly, Black Lab lives. He is adorable. He also enjoys accompanying us on our walks. As soon as he sees us he gets up and starts ferociously wagging his tail. If the driveway gate is open he immediately joins us, if it's closed we pass by and the next thing I know he's trotting down the path after us. Obviously, he has an escape route from his fenced in yard. He is a lovable, happy, old lab who stays with us the whole walk. In fact, there have been times I've tried to send him home because we were crossing the road and would be going where there was traffic. Besides, I didn't want to be responsible to making sure he got back home. But, I couldn't shake him and he followed us all through our neighborhood.

I was actually stopped by a little old lady who wanted to know why I didn't have him on a leash. I explained he wasn't my dog (Ally was on her leash) he just followed us. I had a brief conversation in stunted French with this lady and by the end of it she was ranting about la rage - rabies. I assured her that Ally was vaccinated and I was sure the other dog was fine. Oh by the way, Ally my actual dog was pulling to get going and antsy. Tubba-bubba, not my dog, just sat by my side panting happily waiting for me to continue on. No wonder people thought he was my dog!

So in comparison to Tubby there Ally looks like an anorexic super model! I let this comparison lull me into a false sense that she was losing weight and getting healthier. So, to make a long story short...hmmm...too late. I decided a little jogging would be beneficial for both me and Ally. Especially considering how it took me all afternoon last Wednesday to recover from my little jog to catch the bus.

We, Ally and I, went for a jog yesterday afternoon. It was tough, but we stuck with it. And this morning my knee was sore. I mentioned it to my husband and said I didn't think I'd go jogging today because of it. He thought that I should go jogging today to loosen up my muscles and that my knee would probably feel better after. How wrong he was. Well, to be truth while I was jogging my knee didn't really bother me but afterwards it did. Plus it was a little swollen. So I iced it down with some peas and watched a little JOOST. Sadly, I am now hooked on some stupid British reality show called Psychic Private Eyes. It's awesome. I don't know if I really believe in Psychics and stuff, but it would be utterly fascinating if it were true.

OK, I need to go get the peas again. My knee is starting to throb a bit. Damn exercise, what idiot declared it was good for your health?

March Madness!!!

NO, I'm not talking about college basketball, I'm talking about the fact that the first day of Spring finally arrives and we get 8 inches of snow and it's still coming down!!!

What the *bleep* is going on!?!?! I wanted snow all winter (DH wanted it more) and now when I'm ready for the warm weather to be here, ready to put up the skis and get out the gardening gloves the snow starts falling and doesn't stop.
As you can tell by the above picture I had no clue that it was going to start snowing last night. Not until Ally woke me up at 5 am anxious to go outside did I realize that something looked different outside. Everything seemed to have this strange yellow glow from the street lights. Then I realized everything was covered in snow! How bizarre. We had snow in November (autumn) and now in March (spring) but no snow ALL WINTER long! When I finally took Ally for her walk around 6:45 am it had started snowing again and it's nearly 9 am and it's still going strong. Ally, like my wonderful husband, adores the snow. She gets so excited. All she wants to do is run around frolicking through the thick, white powder. Actually, this snow is less powder and more wet. Perfect packing snow really. You might have to click the picture to the right to actually see Ally running like mad through the snow. I don't know why these pictures are so dark...well, OK I do. It was just getting light out so, duh, of course the pictures will be dark. Sometimes I wonder how I make it through the day - I can be such an idiot. So, anyways. Poor hubby, had to go into work this morning. He was planning on taking the day off but he was asked last night if he could go in this morning and help lay or plug in some opto cables....or something to that effect. He'll chastise me when he reads this saying i don't listen to him but I did listen, I just can't quite remember. What I do know is it was something physically (or at least semi-physically) active. Not sitting in front of the computer screen so I know it's something he'd like to do. He was very disappointed that he was going to miss out on a morning of playing in the snow. But I'm sure it will be here this afternoon and tomorrow. Besides we did manage to get some play time in - I helped in unbury the car and we ran around with Ally for a while (which almost made him late - ooops!)


As we were cleaning off the car Marion poked her head out the window to say hello and stared a snow ball fight!! Cheater, she was inside. hee, hee. it was fun. I thought the snowball fight was all over and returned to brushing snow off the car when; THUNK , a huge mound of snow was swept off the roof of the car right into my face and consequently down the front of my shirt! You just gotta laugh. My hubby grinned and said, "I just couldn't resist. It was too perfect." How can you get angry with that? It's so true. I would have done the exact same thing in his place. hee, hee
Despite the fact that I have been yearning for springtime. warm afternoons, colorful flowers, sipping drinks on the patio in early evening before it gets cold....it's still fun to have a snow day. I just hope it doesn't last too long!

The great lamb/dog controversy

Oh my gosh, I'm ridiculous about our dog! I just think she is adorable. C'mon admit it, you do too. You wish she was yours....er....well...I wouldn't go that far. Ally snores all the time when she's sleeping and it makes me laugh EVERY time I hear it. I can't help it, it is just so funny coming from her. These grunts and groans and snores. Do other dogs snore as much as ours does? Maybe she just wears herself out more than other dogs by stealing goodies from the counter and gorging herself (you all know her alter-ego Ally Babba the thief).

Now, enough about our snoring doggy. The raging debate currently going on within our household is what sort of animal Ally's latest stuffed toy or peluche is. I have taken photos so that all might form an opinion and give victory to one of us. To be fair I will not tell you who believes what...as that might influence your judgement. I mean, let's face it how often am I wrong? That was a rhetorical question no need to answer. So here it is it this a lamb or a dog? or in French Est-ce que c'est par un agneau ou un chien? Or something like that. I will say no more, but let the pictures speak for themselves.

Front view of lamb/dog.
perhaps it is a genetically engineered hybrid!

Side view of lamb/dog

What are Ally's thoughts on this compelling and perplexing problem? You might query. She doesn't give a shit. As long as she can rip the poor beasts guts out she doesn't give a damn. Huh, that's a dog for ya! You can tell how much she really cares about this important question of identity in the following photos. An action shot of Ally and the lamb/dog.

No post would be complete without an innocent looking Ally lying amongst the carnage and destruction she had just wrought. In closing I will leave you with a family photo. You see, despite our vehement disagreements about stuffed animals at the end of the day we are just one big happy family!

Ally's face quite clearly says, "Get me the hell out of here! And give me back my lamb/dog, you bastards."

*** p.s. please feel free to take part in the poll in the upper right. I feel vindication coming on***

Enchante

I met three charming little French girls today. They were walking their dog and stopped by the fence to visit with Ally just as Ally and I were getting ready to go for our afternoon walk. We stopped and spoke with the girls for a bit. They were very good about slowing down their French for me and they could speak English beautifully. Well, at least 2 of them could . Either the youngest girl didn't speak English or she was just shy - her older sister, at least I think she was an older sister- did all the translating for the younger one when I couldn't understand what she was saying (though she didn't talk much). They loved Ally and Ally could have cared less about them. All she wanted was to go on her walk. She wasn't even interested in their dog, Samba. Oh well, what a stuck up little dog we have.

The oddest thing about meeting these girls was that they kept asking if I wanted them to walk Ally. I was a bit confused having told them that I was going on une promenade- a walk (at least that's what I was trying to say in French). Finally, I figured out the littlest one wanted to actually walk Ally, hold the leash. I thought this was not such a great idea so I said no, but they could walk with us if they wanted. I tried to explain that Ally sometimes pulled or got excited when she saw a cat and so it was best if I walked her. I think they were a little put out with me, but they were still very nice. I don't know why I find it so weird, but this is the second time I've had a child here want to walk Ally for me. Children I don't know and who don't know Ally. I find that so bizarre. You don't just walk other peoples dogs. Is it a cultural thing or do American kids do that too? I've never had any children in the States ask to walk Ally. Sure they've wanted to pet her, but never take her for a walk. This little girl took my no with grace, but the little boy who had asked me kept insisting that he could walk her and trying to grab the leash from my hand. Come to think of it that little boy was maybe American...or British. I can't remember. Regardless, I know Ally is cute and all but she's a pretty big dog. She's nearly half the size of these kids who want to walk her. I find it utterly baffling.

well, that's about all for today. Not much going on, just practicing my French with the little girls fo the neighborhood. I have to say that I am quite jaloux (jealous pronounce ja-looze or maybe it's ja-loo...) of their ability to speak English so well, when here I am living in France for cripes sake unable to understand simple phrases. Ah well, it' s my own fault for not practicing more. The more effort I make the better I will become. Right? Right. I knew that's what you'd say, so I just answered for you. It's easier that way.

Oh dear, Puppy Fever!!!

Oh my gosh, look at her. She's so cute! This was the description posted at CERN:

We have a 3 month old puppy, a mix of 'ratier' and some other small breed, that was found abandoned in our car park, injured. We've had her repaired and she's now in fine form. She now needs to go to a good home. We would like her to go to a home where someone is around most of the day, has time, love and energy for this animal. She is the most affectionate dog we've (and the vets have) ever known and spends all day on our laps in the office. She does need training, she's still very young.

My Darling Husband has always been the one that wanted a second dog and I always say, "NO." It's too much work, it's too expensive, etc. And all those things still hold, but my heart is melting. No, we are not going to get this dog or another one - but it is really difficult to stay strong. No doubt she has already been adopted. That's what I'm going to keep telling myself because there is no way that we could possibly afford another dog. It is a ridiculous though. Thank god DH is being strong and reasonable about this. Although he is the one who sent me the photo and the little description. Darn him! But, no we can't get another dog. It would be insane. I'm trying to find a job, Ally would be miserable. She's way too old (almost 5 years old) to deal with a puppy. She'd be so jealous it would be ridiculous. Besides, with me not working that means I'm not bringing in any extra money to pay for a dog. I just have to keep reminding myself of the vet bills, dog food, kennel costs when we go on vacation, etc. AND it cost us an arm and a leg to bring Ally here from the U.S., can you imagine the expense bringing TWO dogs when we move back to the States. Absolutely, not. We can't do it.

Oh but, she's so darn cute. No. She's so loving. No. I've got to be strong. Puppies are evil. They are adorable and win your heart over then they pee all over your house. Besides, if we got another dog where would the hubby and I sleep? Our bed is already too full - yeah, of course we let Ally sleep in our bed we're suckers. You know when we got Ally (at 3 months old) we said, "The dog will NOT sleep on the bed. We'll put her in her kennel in our bedroom and she'll be fine." Yeah right. That lasted all of about 2 hours before we caved in and couldn't take her pitiful whining anymore. She's slept on the bed, on the couch, and now on the guest bed ever since. She's spoiled rotten. See, this is clearly an indication that we should NOT get another dog. Especially not a puppy. You know that the minute we caved and said, "ok, let's take the poor little mite." I'd get a job and I would no longer be home all day to take care of her and Ally. See, it's just a bad idea all around. I've got to stay strong. No more dogs in this house. It's hard enough keeping this joint clean with just the three of us, no need to add an untrained puppy to the mix.

Back me up here people. No dogs. Keep telling me it's a terrible idea. Besides the stray has no doubt been adopted. She's so cute how could she not have been? It's just a bad, bad, bad idea. See, I do have a rational part of me, it's just that sometimes (actually most of the time) my irrational side tries to beat down my rational side. It often succeeds, but not this time. No, my DH will stand strong. He will support the rational side and be totally practical because I don't know if I can withstand the assault by my irrational side. I have to. Must.....stand....strong.....

ugh

next time I even think about sitting down and gorging myself on soupy fudge, someone hit me. Please!!! I can't believe how much my stomach aches. I know, I know I deserve it. Maybe this will teach me some self-control, but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.
OK, I'm going to go take Ally for a nice long walk and hopefully work off some of this fudge I've been devouring

The "fortress"

Behold the fortress of the cookies and bread!
Close-up of the residents of the fortress

(yes, yes I know the cookies are a little over done, you can't be perfect all the time.)

Ally Babba voleur de gâteau de citron

yes, you read that correctly, our precious little puppy has moved on to bigger and better things - Lemon Cake. My DH had made a lovely lemon cake (from a box mix hi mom sent us for Christmas. Thanks MIL!) it was sitting on the counter covered in aluminum foil -who would have thought you would need more of a thief deterrent than that - and we'd eaten maybe two slices from it. I'm not a big lemon fan, although I find lemon cake without the added lemon glaze my DH loves so much acceptable. The point is, there was nearly an entire cake left. I rolled out of bed around 8:30 this morning, let the slobber hound in, stumble into the kitchen to start the coffee and there on the counter is a nearly empty plate filled with crumbs and a sliver of cake. Lying (laying? I can never get those right) sedately on the couch is fat, happy puppy licking her lips.
How could I get that mad at her? I mean it was only lemon cake. Then again, it did totally destroy her diet. Yes, we are attempting to help her shed some pounds. Who wants a diabetic dog on their hands who waddles? not I. I did phone the DH to see if he had forgotten to feed her which might explain the binge eating. Man, I can't believe she did that! Josh left the house about 8a.m. and I was up no later than 8:30 a.m. and in that short little time she devoured almost an entire cake! Yeah, yeah, I know you wish you could do that - there are days that I wish I could too, but it's much better for us if we don't.
Oh! and did I mention that the plastic bag full of my second attempt at Challah bread was laying in the middle of the living room when I woke up? Sure as shootin' it was. Luckily, she must have been so stuffed from the gateau that she couldn't be bothered with chewing through that thin layer of plastic to get to the goods. If she had eaten my bread I would have been super pissed - it takes HOURS to make bread!

So, when we went out tonight I made a fort with my fresh made cookies and homemade bread safely tucked away behind the defenses. Ally is lucky everything was where I left it when I returned. I'll post a picture of my fortress tomorrow and I am hopeful that I will get around to posting about the French conversation cafe we attended tonight!


Bon Soir (good-night)

p.s. voleur = thief ( a literal translation of the title is Ally Babba the thief of the cake of lemon)

"THE FLOOD"

Today's word is: l'eau (pronounced low) it means water. At a restaurant you might hear someone asking for "une carafe d'eau, s'il vous plait" (a carafe of water, please). Odd are these people are Americans who are used to having the waiter or waitress automatically bring them a glass of water and to keep it coming. This is one thing I find very strange about Europe, I don't think they drink as much (and I mean regular liquid, not alcohol you lushes) as Americans...but, that's just the impression I get. Maybe I'm just a weirdo how chugs down more liquid than the average person! But, I digress. I am not here to tell you about drinking water in a restaurant. I am here to reveal the exciting events that unfurled in our apartment yesterday.

The morning of December 10, 2007 day live on in the memories of the Mosslins family as the day we started our battle with Mother Nature - and poor drainage. Ok, to be fair it started last week when I awoke to find a puddle in the corner of our kitchen. It wasn't too large, but enough to make me worry and contact our landlords. We also needed them to call a plumber because our stupid toilet has been running non-stop for days (what a pain to shut off the water and turn it back on every time you use it!) Our landlord thought perhaps the kitchen leak was due to a pipe in the wall. I, secretly, thought he was an idiot. It's been raining for days with very few intervals of dryness, the walls weren't wet only the floor, and this side of the kitchen is below ground! Obviously, the water was leaking in from outside. Regardless, he said he'd find someone to check it and I had to be satisfied with that. That is, until we awoke Monday morning to find the ENTIRE apartment underwater! The water had come into the kitchen, ignoring our feeble towel barricade it ran down into the living room, into the entrance hall, and was creeping into the craft room/guest bedroom! What a disaster.
We, of course, had to clean it all up, contact our landlords again, and make a list of damage for the insurance company. Luckily, the carpet is the only thing that suffered any damage - all of our furniture has legs so they were kept up out of l'inondation (the flood).
Unfortunately, before we could really get to work on the clean up we had to figure out a way to contain the incoming water in the kitchen. So, off to Botanic, the local garden store, we went in search of sand. I had to make use of my excellent (ha, ha) French skills and I'm proud to say I managed to make the woman at Botanic understand and be sympathetic to our plight. Thankfully, they had two small bags of sand left. Apologetically, she explained that sand is an item for l’été (the summer) pas l'hiver (not the winter) so they didn't have any more in stock. But, two bags ended up being just fine for our purposes. Once we returned to our drenched home I began the mopping up process and Josh began the sandbagging process. Oh, we also bough an extra mop to double team the damned (or dammed) water.

Look at the sheer delight and joy at mopping which is plastered all over my face! This picture was actually taken late Sunday night when we entered into a small skirmish in the kitchen. We thought we had won the day, but oh how wrong we were.

Here is Josh on Monday morning employing our useful weapon, the towel, to soak up the pools of rain water. We bought an extra mop after Josh's hands became so red and raw from wringing out sopping wet towels that his hands looked as though they belonged to a little old washer woman. All day as we mopped and soaked up the water we kept peeking out the windows with the query, "has it stopped raining?" the answer was always, "NO". After about 3 hours the house was fairly dry. The ruined carpet was outdoors (probably getting even more wet though we did try to put it under the cover of the overhang) and we were able to bring some of our furniture back into the living room. We erected our sandbag dam in the kitchen doorway figuring if it were to flood again it would be best to contain it in the kitchen. We had already removed the kitchen chairs and we had placed little plastic booties on each of the table legs (and by booties I mean empty ice cream containers we've washed out and use as tupperware!).





Some of you might be curious as to what Ally did all day whilst we were in the midst of battling that acursed Mother Nature and her minions of rain...Ally was extremely helpful, let me tell you. I think this picture explains it all:
Yep, that's our little princess. She spent the day hopping from couch to dry towels trying not to get her precious paws wet! Can you believe that this is the same dog that happily and purposefully, splashes through every singled puddle on our morning walks? Go figure.

And an update for those interested on Friday I actually managed to finish covering one couch cushion. Here is a rather bad picture of the results. Not too shabby if I do say so myself. It is pretty time consuming sewing all this by hand, but in some ways it's pretty fun too. Today, I'm hoping to get the next one finished. Wish me luck and keep your fingers crossed the rain stops soon. It can't rain forever, can it?

Princess Ally Babba the Butter Thief

A story:
Once upon a time in the land of Mossopatamia their lived a young Princess name Ally Babba.

Princess Ally Babba

Now, Princess Ally Babba lived with the King and Queen of Mossopatamia and was treated very well. In fact, many thought her to be rather spoiled. She never wanted for new toys to destroy, treats, or the most comfortable spot on the couch. Yet, Princess Ally Babba was not content. You see, she loved butter and this was the one thing the King and Queen forbid her to eat. The King and Queen had decreed that none in Mossopatamia should eat the delicious butter produced in this region except themselves, and their honored guests.

They felt that Princess Ally Babba should be excluded from eating butter because she was a rather roly-poly little princess and they worried about her health. So, you see, this decree was not entirely selfish and mean. But, Princess Ally Babba could not see that the King and Queen were looking out for her health. Being rather spoiled all she could think about was the injustice and deprivation she suffered by not being allowed to have even the teeny tiniest pat of butter.

So, one day when the King and Queen were out enjoying a Christmas Market Princess Ally BAbba discovered that they had been careless and had left some butter on the counter. Yes, she could see that they had cleverly pushed it all the way back to the farthest corner of their kitchen counter, but that would not stop this little Princess. She was determined to have that butter. With stealth and cunning she managed to pull the butter from the counter (lucky for her there were no courtiers around that day) and began to devour the forbidden butter. After eating a good bit of that scrumptious butter Princess Ally Babba began to feel a bit sick to her stomach. At first she ignored these pains, but eventually they grew so bad she was forced to stop eating the butter and go lie down. She wondered what could possibly be causing such pain in her little tummy. The King and Queen never had achy bellies after eating butter! It never occurred to her that the King and Queen had sense enough not to gorge themselves on the mouth-watering butter (at least the Queen did, who then prevented the King from enacting such outrageous behavior). So Ally found her favorite spot on the royal couch and promptly fell asleep her tummy full, but aching rather badly. She slept soundly for some time and was awoken by sound of keys turning in the lock. Oh joy! the King and Queen were home. Ally stretched herself and began to wiggle about in anticipation for she truly did love the King and Queen. Also, she was anxious to see what treat they had bought her for she always expected a little something when they returned from their outings! The butter and her theft of it had completely vanished from little Ally Babba's mind.
The King and Queen, who loved Ally Babba very much showered her with pets and belly rubs until the Queen noticed an empty butter wrapper lying on the floor. "What is this?" she exclaimed in dismay turning a beady eye on Princess Ally. Who happily wagged her tail at the Queen and tried to lick her face. The King went into the kitchen were he discovered the lump of butter Ally Babba was not able to eat. "Ally," roared the King.
"Oh dear, " she thought to herself, "What am I going to do? I forgot to get rid of the evidence!" She attempted to place the blame on her sometimes friend sometimes arch nemesis Pici (pronounced pee-kee), the snaggle-toothed slobber hound.
Unfortunately for Ally Babba, the King and Queen were much too smart for her and knew she was lying. Besides, the King and Queen knew that Pici could not have stolen the butter because they had seen him put securely away in the cave sans espoir (the cave of no hope) for slobbering on their royal couch. With the evidence stacked against her and the King and Queen in a royal high temper, Princess Ally Babba hung her head and tail in shame. Remembering her horrible belly-ache she promised the King and Queen she would never again steal their precious butter. And she meant it too...that is, of course, until enough time had passed for her to forget that terrible butter belly-ache and the King and Queen were foolish enough to leave the butter somewhere she could so easily get it.....

Losing the war

that villain dirt is at it again. With his lieutenants; clutter, dog hair, and cobwebs who command the foot-soldiers, those pesky and indomitable dust bunnies. Does anyone else feel like they are fighting a huge war and losing every battle. Yeah, there are a few victorious skirmishes here and there but they are short lived and seemingly futile. I spent hours on Saturday, assisted by my DH, cleaning up the house. I went so far as to pull all the cushions off the couch and vacuum them. We swept, vacuumed, dusted and within in 2 hours after this massive effort took place the house was a disaster again. How is that possible?
Our household consists of two adults, a dog, and a part-time visitor in the form of a snaggle-toothed slobber hound. Yes, some of the disgusting stains on the floor can be attributed to that last slobbery being, but really it shouldn't be this hard to keep the house in decent shape. Yet, all signs point to the contrary. I sweep practically everyday sometimes more than once and still we have great rolling dust bunnies. It's ridiculous. I sweep and then an hour later I see this huge ball of dust and fur rolling down the hallway like tumbleweed across the desert. What gives? Is there anyone else out there who enters their house and just looks around in despair at the endless clutter?
Even when we owned barely two pieces of furniture our apartment was cluttered. If there is a table it is inevitably covered in papers, used Kleenex (disgusting, I know), electrical cords, boxes, books, and general crap. How is it ever to be tamed? Does anyone know a foolproof way of shaming your papers and junk into compliance?
I love when my brother-in-law says, "why bother? it's just going to get dirty again." What a great philosophy. And it's even better because he expresses this point of view to my mother. Who gags in indignation at the thought. I wouldn't be surprised if her head started spinning around every time he said something like that in her presence. The best part is that by comparison even my minimal efforts at cleanliness take on a glow of victory in the eyes of my mother. To my brother-in-law all I have to say is, "Keep up the good work."
With that I'm going to have to excuse myself there are some nasty cobwebs in the bathroom trying to overrun my defenses and engulf the shower, mirror and sink.

Once more into the fray!

the walk of death

Ah yes, the joys of walking 2 dogs at once! And yet, even though I'm being dragged along by these two beasts it doesn't stop people from rolling down there windows and asking directions. The sad part is that even though I've now been living here for about 7 months - yeah, it's been that long, I can't believe it - I have no idea where anything is, and even if I did know where the road was that they wanted I probably wouldn't understand them when they asked or be able to adequately explain if I did understand!

Josh said this picture looked like I was about to shoot the dogs! Ha, ha...but there are days the thought has crossed my mind. Well, maybe not actually shooting them but, you know....
I would have a picture of the most nerve wracking part of any walk with the dogs - l'espace de la mort: the gap of death, but I'm big chicken (more on that later). There is a section of the road that is very narrow, curves, and has stone walls on either side of the road this is what I have so fondly termed the gap of death , or l'espace de la mort when I'm feeling saucy and want to be more French. It seems as though EVERY time we are passing through the gap of death a car, inevitably, drives through at the same time! Now, rationally, I know that two cars can pass through this gap - I've seen it with my own two eyes. Yet, I can't help thinking we're going to be run down. Man, those two dogs take up nearly as much space as a car! Luckily I have yet to be caught with both dogs when TWO cars are going through. As I said you would have photographic evidence, but when I went to take a picture of it there were four people standing around teh apartment right next to l'espace de la mort and I felt stupid and silly taking a picture of it. So...I didn't. I just kept walking. Then when of the elderly gentlemen was walking a few feet behind me and I thought, "oh hell, now what am I going to do? I'll look stupid if I just turn around and walk back. But I don't want to walk all around the neighborhood, I just finished a walk with the dogs." So, like an idiot, I pretended that I was looking for something that I dropped until he was passed me then I turned around and scooted home. How dumb. When he passed he gave me a very bemused, "Bonjour!" and I just know he was snickering thinking, "silly foreigners." Ah well, I was acting silly and stupid and I didn't even get the picture that I wanted!!! Maybe tomorrow.
Hey, tomorrow's thanksgiving - yay! We've been invited by Marion, our Canadian neighbor, to join her in going to Vevey, Switzerland to celebrate with some of her friends and co-workers. It should be fun, even if it means two hours in the car (one hour there, one hour back). I'll let you know how it goes!
So, if I don't post tomorrow- Happy Turkey Day everyone.

Baby it's cold outside

An unceremonious thump in my chest and the familiar weight of our 80 pound dog fell against my body as Ally carried out her morning ritual. Through bleary eyes I make out the red digits on the alarm clock-7:20am. We never set the alarm clock because we have Ally. She's not quite as consistent as one might wish but she wakes anywhere between 5:45 and 7:30, I'm always thankful when it's closer to 7:30, especially as I no longer have a job to rush off to. Ally snuggles in close for her morning pets and my heavy hands find her weak spots, rubbing as vigorously as a half asleep zombie can around her ears and neck. She lets out a deep sigh of contentment as I rub her face. My head sinks further into the softness of my pillow and my leaden eyelids slide shut. A minute later a cold nose is pressed into my face to remind me that I have not finished giving out the obligatory morning caresses. When she's had a enough she sits at the end of the bed majestically staring at me and giving a low whine of discontent. I can almost hear her thinking, "Get out of bed you lazy bastard and let's go for a walk." As I grumble, " ok, ok," and heave myself up she nimbly jumps off the bed and heads to the front door.
I glance over at the sleeping form of my husband who has obliviously slept through Ally's morning ritual. Even though we take turns walking her every morning it's me she comes to for her morning snuggle. Sometimes I think the house could be falling down around his head and Josh would sleep through it. Some mornings I have to forcibly kick him out of bed so I can lie undisturbed by pitiful whining!
But, this morning is my day to walk the dog. For the past couple of weeks I have been trying to get myself in better shape and a better frame of mind by taking Ally for a morning jog instead of a mere walk. I look at my warm-ups knowing I should jog this morning too, but I just can't bring myself to do it. Josh and I went to a Tango session last (we're taking classes at the CERN Dancing club) and my body is sore from trying to hold the proper Tango position while wearing heels. So, instead I throw on my jeans, t-shirt, and boots; there will be no jogging this morning.
I open the front door and remember it's getting closer and closer to winter. This morning isn't so terribly cold, but the hours of sunlight are already getting shorter. Gone are the mornings when I opened the door to see the sky streaked in rosy hues as the sun rose slowly over the Alps in the east. Now I open the door to find the sky still wrapped in velvety darkness. Thank god there are street lights everywhere especially considering all I own for a winter coat is a black ski jacket - doesn't really stand out in the dark.
I grudgingly clip on Ally's leash and say, "Well let's go," as she bounds happily to the gate. And to think just a couple weeks ago I had reveled in the beauty and stillness of our morning autumnal walks. Today that lovely cool, crisp breeze I had loved so much has a bite to it. It's not a comfortable chill that requires jeans and a sweatshirt it's starting to take on that chill where after 10 minutes your realize your an idiot for not bringing along some light gloves and your fingertips are starting to yearn for a steaming hot mug of coffee to be clasped between them.
I watch as the wind blows through the trees making them rattle and whisper as the gold, red, and orange leaves of autumn are lifted off their branches and swirled to the ground waiting to be trod upon with a satisfying crunch.
As I huddle deeper in my coat watching the sky lighten from the velvety darkness of night to the gray dawn of morning I curse Ally. These are mornings she loves. Her boundless energy pulls me along as her excited breath puffs in white clouds before her. She doesn't seem to feel any coldness, just the joy of our quiet morning together. hmmm....that's pretty sentimental. I doubt she cares about being with me, she just loves getting out of the yard. This is her time of freedom and exploration - a retractable leash. The French might let their dogs run amok but I don't trust Ally to not run out in front of a car in desperate pursuit of a squirrel or cat.
This morning I'm tired and I relent a little. When we get to the little semi-enclosed park around the corner I let her off her leash to run around a bit. She doesn't do much running but immediately finds a place to dig and contents herself with pawing up the earth while I watch from a nearby bench.
When I feel she's had enough digging time I collect her, she's way too adorable with dirt spattered across her nose. It's time to get warm again. That hot coffee is calling to me...if only Josh has gotten his lazy butt out of bed and made me some. Nope, that's too much to ask for. Aw well, maybe another day.

Martha Stewart of France

Yep, just call me Martha Mosslins please. Since I have discovered all this free time on my hands - granted it's free time I should be putting to better use, like finding a job, volunteering, or learning French - I have gotten the baking bug. Scary, I know. As many of you know my skills in the kitchen are dubious, at best. But, I do seem to have a knack for baking, thanks mom. I'm sure these talents with a pastry fork were past while in the womb from my mother - the world's best baker. Then again, I did spend a year working in a bakery in Williamsburg, Virginia so that might have something to do with it as well. Who knows? The point is, I have become a fanatic about baking. I like to try out something new each week. Josh, naturally, wants the same things over and over: chocolate snack cake, for example, but that's just not much fun.
Today I was feeling adventurous so I went on a mission into the neighbors yard to steal some apples. After fending off their massive boxer, Picasso...ok, really all I had to worry about was being slobbered on. He's so nice and all he wants is company. The only danger I was in was drowning in his drool as he jumped all over me when I entered the gate. I brought Ally along as a distraction but she's all but worthless. Our pretty, pretty princess puppy does not care to be drooled on, has no desire to run around and play with the much bigger Picasso, and was merely glad to be able to roll around in the grass. So, to get on with the apple stealing. I scrambled up the small, ivy entangled apple tree, which guards Picasso's dog house and started pulling off the best looking apples. Having not thought ahead I am now stuck with my hands full of apples and no good way to get down. I think about dropping them but they'd probably land on the dogs, who are now standing there watching my every move. They probably think I'm getting these juicy apples as a treat for them. As I'm thinking this Picasso lifts his leg and gently pees on the base of the apple tree - is he trying to encourage me to remain up in the tree forever, or is this his way of saying "good luck"? Thanks buddy.
A bit of juggling and the use of my shirt as a basket and I safely find my two feet planted solidly on the ground with the prized apples in possession. Time to start the baking.
After a quick, get away from Picasso. Throw a ball in one direction and run in the other; works every time. Ally heads to the couch for her daily nap - stealing apples is hard work- and I head to the kitchen to start my first attempt at a pie crust. The goal of today's baking is to end up with a Country Apple Tart. I put on Saturday's Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me and get busy making the pastry.
Yep, I even wear an apron. My baking has gotten better but the floury mess I make has not. As you can see I was successful in putting all the ingredients together and getting not only my tart crust, but the filling made as well. Let's here it for Martha Mosslins!!! wooohooo.
Check out that lovely, unbaked Apple tart. It's just begging to be put in that hot, 475 degree F (which is like 246 degree C) oven. Actually, the conversions get me all the time so I had my fingers crossed that I actually had it at the right temperature et voila, after about 30 minutes out it comes.
Hey, hey not too shabby, huh? Alright, you can see a few places got a little singed. It's my first try I'm hopeful that it will be prettier next time, but I have no doubts it'll taste fabulous. I'll have to give you the report after we try some out tonight with Vanilla ice cream. Can you believe that I didn't even taste it when it was hot out of the oven? No, I can't believe it either. Married life sure has changed me. To think just a few months ago I would have eaten it all myself, but now that I'm married I think of my hubby first... Ha! who am I kidding? I just didn't have any vanilla ice cream - Josh is going to get some on his way home!
Well, thanks for sharing in my exciting baking adventures. Now I'm off to do a little knitting. what, did you think I'd do something productive like clean the house or look for jobs? I did that this morning. Maybe I'll go straighten my underwear drawer - just kidding, even I'm not that Martha Stewartish!
Well, this is Martha Mosslins saying Bon Appetite!