Tacky Cardigan: What the Ground Might Say to a Dog - Baseball Edition

Have you ever thought about how much abuse the ground takes? Especially from dogs? Wonder what it might say, if it could talk? What's that? Only whack-o's wonder about such things? OK, I'll give you that.

Also, I'm really sorry. You'll know why momentarily.

Anyone going to see a baseball game this weekend? ☺

Note: I know full well that no baseball diamond ever entertained a game in the snow. It was the only picture I had, OK? And I took it by accident last winter. Whack-o and sick-o are not synonymous!  

Want me to consider a photo of your pet(s) for a tacky cardigan? (hehe, I bet you do! not!) Just post it to the Facebook or Tumblr page!

Classic Cardigan: When Dewi Made Like Charlie Brown and Crushed on the Little Redheaded Girl (Tabloid Edition)

I'm not too tired to post something original today. It's just that the original I wrote today has to wait until another day (soon). But that's okay, because this humdinger gem of a story is due to come out of hibernation. Especially since the "season of love" is just around the corner. ;-)

Originally published on June 10, 2011, please enjoy the classic (with cheesy, 80s musical interlude)...

When Dewi Met Georgia (A Red Hot Cardigan Love Story)

Quote for the day: If your camera hands you trash for pictures, call "Dwayne."

The following blog post is rated NC-17 (No Corgis over 17 admitted), due to highly ridiculous content. Reader discretion advised.

As reported by "Dwayne"

(Identity changed to protect the doofus.)

For back story, look here or here.

Cast

Sam.......................................The Patriarch (and Birthday Boy)

Georgia........................Hot Sister/Precocious Daughter of Sam
Bogey............................Georgia's Overprotective Half-Brother

Jon Farleigh (JF)..................Georgia's Nonchalant Full Brother

Dewi........................Jon Farleigh's Flirtatious, Hot Roommate 

Ginny..................................Endearing Eldest Daughter of Sam
Nick...........................................Adorable Sam Great-Grandson
Rufus............................................Nick's Sweet Old Housemate
At the party, but not on camera...
Moira..................................Super Athletic Sam Granddaughter
Bee..................................Georgia's and JF's Bashful Full Sister


It began as a sea of red (and one blue) at the watering hole...

Jon Farleigh to Rufus (with tail): "You seen any beer around here?"

JF to Georgia (under chair): "Hey, wanna meet my roommate, Dewi?"
Georgia: "Is he cute? Does he have a job?"

Georgia to Dewi: "Hey, I'm Georgia, but you can call me Princess. Wanna come under here with me in the shade?"
Dewi: "Do you like bacon?"

Dewi to Georgia: "Your coat reminds me of sweet potato jerky and a stuffed Kong. Will you be my girl?"
Georgia: "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. Wanna play tag?"

Georgia to Dewi: "You got me; now I'm 'it!'
Hey! Whatcha doing up there?!"

*We interrupt this blog post for "Cheesy Eighties Love Songs" as selected by "Dwayne."*

(Hint: Right click link and open in a new window to play in background.)

Dewi's Song: Don't Disturb this Groove (1987) - The System

Georgia's Song: I Get Weak (1987) - Belinda Carlisle

*And now for the exciting conclusion of this blog post.*

Bogey to JF: "Dude, Dad's ticked. You better do something about that blue boy or there's gonna be trouble.
JF: "I think we're gonna have to lock her in the wire tower, man."

Nick: Check out the moves on Dewi...

Sam to Ginny: "I smell trouble in a merle coat. Have you seen Georgia?"
Ginny: "Bogey's on top of it, Dad."

Georgia to Bogey: "Is that coconut cake up there?"
Bogey: "Yeah, and bread, too."

 Georgia to Dewi: "Would you be a dear and fetch me a snack?"

Georgia to Dewi (again): "Hey?! Are you listening? I'd really like a snack, please!"
Dewi to himself: Man, those are some loud mosquitoes. Mmmm, caaaake.

JF to Dewi: "Good day, eh?"
Dewi: "Yeah. You gonna eat all that?"

~The End~

The dogs in this post are real; however, the story is fictional. Any resemblance to your Cardigan Welsh Corgi or real-life events is purely coincidental.

*****
In memory of Sam, a very good red dog, and Rufus.

Tacky Cardigan With Words on It: Litter in the Forest

I saw something in Target the other day that inspired me to make a pretty holiday collage.

Dear Tidy Cats Santa Claus, 

I've been a mostly good girl. Thank you for making such lovely holiday containers for cat litter. The thing is, I'm thinking that if I use this product, the steamy poo from my multiple cats might turn me off of winter pine for all of eternity. So, if it's all the same to you, if your elves could whip me up some dog-repelling litter that smells like nail clippers (and other assorted grooming supplies) for Christmas? My little heart might actually grow six sizes that day. Thank you for the consideration.

Love, 
Me

Hey, check out my pine scented breath, mom!

If you can read this, I'm really sorry for making you gag.

If you'd like me to consider one of your pet(s) photos for a tacky cardigan, just post it on the Facebook page!

Classic Cardigan: I Love Potty Humor and I Can't Help It

But first, here's a photo of the boys that I "swiped" from Jodi, the talented (and award-winning) dog blogger at Kol's Notes - Tips and Tricks from the DIY Dog...

She took it on Saturday, while at the BlogPaws pet blogging and social media conference in Tysons Corner, Virginia. I was not there.          

OK, yes I was! ;) (That's partly why I'm posting this "classic" today...because I'm old and tired, y'all.)

But anyway, about that photo. So, we were in a large dining room at the conference hotel, in the middle of zillions of people (and some other pets), when Jodi kindly gave me a baggie of some of her homemade carob dog treats, and then Dewi got completely fixed on the bag in my hand, and stood up on his haunches (as pictured), and did a show for everyone in the room, which made me a very proud dog mama! (JF did tricks and made me proud, too, by the way.)

And, there you go! The dogs represented at BlogPaws. :) They (and I) had a wonderful time. More on that later.

Today, though, I'd like to re-share a story I wrote over two years ago, which for the longest time (like up until last week), I had forgotten about. Because it's "hiding" under a post title that, other than the word "turd," has nothing to do with why I find potty humor so appealing.
(Hint: It might be genetic...or a product of my upbringing. You decide. ;-)

Originally published on March 2, 2011 (under a somewhat misleading title)...

There's a turd in the litterbox! Somebody celebrate with me!

Made you look! :)     (sorry, I couldn't resist.)

image credit bandofcats.com

Preface: Somewhere, my hubby -- as he reads the blog now and then -- is hanging his head in shame. He thinks that I'm (check that -- my *whole family* on my dad's side) -- is fascinated with poop. For the record, I strongly disagree; however, I will admit that growing up, the subject (poop) was discussed freely. To be exact, my father (quite matter-of-factly) believed that just about any ailment could be attributed to one's being "irregular." Headache? You must be constipated. Bad breath? Constipated. Cranky? Clogged pipes. :) So, we ate a lot of beans and greasy things (no Activia back in that day) to keep things running smoothly. And incidentally, I still had bad breath and got headaches (but was a perfect angel otherwise). (FYI: There's a sucker born every minute. :)

Why there was even that *one* time when -- fairly early in our courtship -- my then boyfriend (now hubby) was over for dinner. He (boyfriend) must have turned down a second helping of butter beans (or some other mushy form of fiber) when my dad -- in his best Sheriff Andy Taylor drawl -- exclaimed, "B___, Ahh SUMtimes wurreh 'bowt yer reg-ye-LAIR-teh!" (Translation: "B___, I sometimes worry about your regularity!")  The rest of the meal was a blur.  I'm surprised I didn't get dumped (pun intended). :)

*****

But, enough about me!  You might recall from yesterday that my old cat, Charlie, has been down with some bad tummy upset (hint: not constipation), which at her age, could have conceivably been her demise. However, this morning, there in her own private litterbox -- a turd! The old girl is still in the game. :) What a relief!

Carry on, y'all. :)


Chocolate, anyone?

In Memoriam: Charlie (Chatting it up in kitty heaven), 1991 - June 2, 2011

Of Cake Wreck(ing) Balls, Hershey, Kisses and Opportunistic PSAs

Disclosure: I tried not to. Really and truly, I tried.

I guess you could call this a belated Valentine's Day post. I'll let you decide after you get to the end.

So on Valentine's Day, Jon Farleigh and Dewi got a lovely little heart-shaped (doggie) cupcake to share. It came from Three Dog Bakery, the same place where I've gotten all their (doggie) birthday cakes.

Here's a photo of the cupcake:

 Cute, huh?

Yes, it was to me, too. Until I saw this on it:

Which reminded me that February is National Spay/Neuter Month, so I made this:

And then, after I did that, I looked at the cupcake again and saw this:

Which didn't really cause me to do anything, other than spend the next three days thinking about how I was going to "position" it (the steamer, aka pile of Hershey) in a blog post. 

I guess I can start thinking about something else now, huh? ;-)

And because I really do care about whether you, my dignified and exemplary readers, come back to read my blog on future occasions, the rest of this blog post will include only cute photos of my pets wearing cheap holiday-themed accessories from Target.

Enjoy!

Dang it! You weren't supposed to see that!

Dear Target People-Who-Make-Cheap-Accessory-Decisions:

As your #1 fan of cheap holiday-themed accessories (to use in important blog posts such as this), I'd like to point out that for the last three years, you have offered exactly zero Valentine's Day-themed headbands, necessitating my "making do" with creative alternatives (such as these gift-bag doggie "necklaces" from 2012 and the above St. Paddy's Day antennae). All I'm saying is that if you want to sell some Cupid's arrow (for example) headgear in 2014, I will buy it. 

Thank you.

Elizabeth

I believe it says "KISS ME."

What??

Happy (un) Valentine's Day, y'all!

;-)

You Should See Me in My Birthday Suit

Caution! By order of the CDC (Committee for Dog[blog] Cleanliness), all readers must use this virtual can of lavender scented Comet to scrub their minds of any "gutter" scum before proceeding. 

Oh, hai, y'all! How'd you like that title, huh?

I wrote it...because today is MY 3rd BIRTHDAY!

Oh, and the mom-peep made me add that warning up there. Something about a crack-down on the spread of soiled minds brain dirt. Whatev.

So anyway, like I was saying, today's my birthday and like the title says, you really should get a'load of me in my birthday suit. And boy, do I have a surprise for you!

Close your eyes!

Now, open 'em!

Ta da!

That's my sweet mama Elowyn, my four sibs and ME - Dewi (on the far right) - at the dairy bar on February 14, 2010. We were all in our birthday suits, dude!

Too bad my face is stuffed in a milkshake, though. I kinda wanted you to see it...

Oh, wait! Here! Look at this one...

Can you tell which one is me?! Hint: HellOOooo, I'm right here in front! Duh!

Okay, back to the subject of birthday suits. Mom-peep said that a birthday suit doesn't have to be limited to the suit you had on when you actually got born. Which is lucky for me, because that teeny tiny old suit went up the vacuum a long time ago. 

So yeah, and the mom-peep decided it would be fun to dress me and JF up in party hats and make us sit in the back of her car so she could take our pictures for this blog post (which I am writing, by the way) just because she doesn't have the time to make us do our proper sits and stays. Pfft.)

Well, here is what I think of the whole car imprisonment photo shoot.

Wait, I think a treat fell down in this crack.

I'm pretty sure this is not a happy face.

Can I get out of the car now?

(P.S. No, we did NOT get to go for a ride. But the party later, when the peeps were home, where they sang to me and gave me and JF some doggie carrot cake with pink icing, rocked, dude!) 

And one last thing, before I go: 

CONGRATULATIONS, MERINDA!

You won the photo caption challenge!

I could hear mom-peep giggling (even over Jon Farleigh's snoring) when she opened up your comment. Said she could totally picture me saying that. As if. 

What's the big deal about how I'm sitting, anyway? I just don't get you peeps.

Okay, I think I'm done. Bye, y'all! Thanks for looking at my birthday suits!

Happy birthday to my brother, Kirby, and my three sisters, Anwen, Jacklyn and Penny!

*****

A note from the editor:

Congratulations, Merinda (of The Brews Brothers blog)! Your caption cracked me up! And as promised, I'll be posting it (with credit) all over social media (within the next 24 hours)!

But mostly, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who played along! I enjoyed reading every single one of your entries and I think you are all awesome great sports!

In honor of Dewi and his littermates' birthday, and thanks to you all, CorgiAid is getting $40 to help with their rescue efforts. 

Well played! :-)

5 Places (besides the obvious, work, etc.) Where You Should NEVER LOL at a Blog

Note: And by LOL, I don't mean that "pretend" stuff we sometimes do in blog comments, just to have something nice to say. I mean real, laughing out loud - from one's gut, which may or may not include simultaneous, embarrassing bodily function(s), i.e. soiling one's pants. 

So by show of hands, how many of you have ever laughed out loud at someone's blog (or website) in an inappropriate place? (My hand is up, BTW; I laugh out loud inappropriately in lots of places.) I'm picturing a few hands waving in the air - some higher than others, no doubt. Well anyway, I thought it might be helpful - since I, for one, have never seen an article like this on any of the many blogging etiquette sites I've visited - to list a few of the places (other than the obvious: work, church services, the library) where, as a blog reader, one should never, ever laugh out loud.

I hope you find this helpful.

1. As a (live, in-person) spectator of the final round (or even worse, sudden-death playoff) at the Masters (golf) Tournament. 

(Now, I know some of you might be thinking that I have overestimated the number of golf fans who bother to read this blog; well, to those of you I say this: Do not tell me that if Ree Drummond - of the [rhymes with] Whyoneer Plummon blog - [hypothetically] gifted you an all-expenses-paid trip for you and a friend to The Masters [because it happened to coincide with one of her book-signings], that you [even if you hate golf] wouldn't be all over that trip like pollen on a car hood! :-) So, what I'm saying is that since more than a few of you - as I do - probably enter Ree's giveaways, and probably don't have intimate experience with spectating etiquette at The Masters, that I'm hopefully saving you a LOAD of potential embarrassment! I mean, is that really how you want to get late-night TV exposure? Getting arrested at an internationally televised sporting event?!)

Blowing bubbles under the water makes bath time fun!

 2. During a boring political science (for example) lecture, in which your professor - with a demented fondness for the Socratic method of teaching...in a giant lecture hall...where shy students suffer from bouts of nausea in anticipation of being called out in front of total strangers - might hear you LOL-ing, and make you read the entire doo doo-laced blog post out loud to the class! Who's laughing then?

(Talk about soiling a perfectly clean pair of pants.)

3. Observing (within earshot of the surgical team) a delicate Operation, in which the surgeon is trying to remove her patient's "wish bone" from the left side of his chest (a most awkward maneuver) using nothing but a pair of electrified tweezers, which, at the slightest slip of her hand, will set off the most annoying buzzer you have ever heard in your life! (Note: This scenario applies to many Operations, including, but not limited to, funny bone replacement and writer's cramp removal.)

4. As a VIP guest or government official (on or near the platform...and a "hot" mic) during a U.S. President's inaugural address (particularly when one has one's sights set on 2016, 20, etc.). (One would think this particular tip, above all, should go without saying. One would think.)

(What? You think politicians don't read [and consequently glean valuable tips - like this one - from] nonsensical dog blogs?)

All business here, folks. My bubble maker's set to torpedo mode.

5. Seated (on the toilet) in a stall in a (multi-stalled) public restroom (and I can't adequately express this next part enough), ESPECIALLY...ESPECIALLY when a person (who has unusually shy bowels, and who would rather suffer from constipation in private than be [audibly and/or olfactorily] detected making poo poo in a public toilet) is seated in the stall next to you!

Or even worse! If that person has innocently entered the stall to take care of #1 on her agenda ONLY, however, to her horror, erroneously emits a blast of hot methane - its sound closely mimicking a rectal trumpet, announcing her impending urination. [Insert me saying, "OMG, I feel SO bad for that woman!"]

Which then, naturally, the horrified person - in a panic-stricken haste - would inevitably wind up running out of the restroom into the busy Target store (for example) with her dress tucked into the back of her (totally hip) textured tights!

(Do you want to be the reason why a sensitive Target shopper has to begin seeing a therapist?!  I didn't think so!)

And there you go, friends. Just me trying to give something back to my awesome readers. ;-)

Oh, and remember, my blog is Pin(terest)-friendly, so feel free to tack this post up on your "blogging tips" board - just in case.

*****

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This post has been brought to you by Maddox, who rarely cracks a smile, much less laughs out loud in public.

*****

And one more thing...for my exceptionally kind friend-who-also-has-a-dog-blog, Kim T.: This is what happens when you admit (in comments) to LOL-ing at my blog in inappropriate places. I hope it was worth it! ((hugs!))

Classic 'Crafty' Cardigan: Felting for Dumb@sses - Balls

To clarify:

Dummy - A beginner, novice; someone who struggles with directions laden with technical jargon

Dumb@ss - (see below image)

Figuratively, people. This furry @ss could be a genius.

Now, solve this riddle:

What does one call a person who (when it comes to felting) is both a dumb@ss AND a smart@ss?

OK, time's up. The answer is (see below image):

Behind those glasses, I'm winking hard. ;)

So. Now that we're clear on who this blog post is really about, let me give a shout out to the person who is responsible for my re-posting it for your enjoyment: the talented and lauded author of the hilarious novel What the Dog Ate, Jackie Bouchard!

"How is that?" you might ask.

Well, I'll tell you; just look at her comment on last week's Etsy giveaway post:

She (and her sis) make these ADORABLE wool felted dogs! (And one is a Cardi!)

And so, naturally, I wanted to re-publish this dusty old felting post of my own, because a) refer to both of the above images, and b) I'm too lazy to write something original.

Editor's Tip: When one is short on sheep's wool for felting, one can feel free to substitute DOG HAIR. Double-coated varieties (as in Corgi) work nicely.

And now, originally published on February 11, 2011:

Dog Hair Explosion Part II: Why the World Needs Crafty People

Okay, so this is what I eventually brushed out of Dewi the other day when his undercoat spontaneously disengaged from his skin and landed on my kitchen floor:

Probably enough to fill a regular-sized plastic Target bag

If I'd had the right tool(s), I'd probably have gotten a lot more. Well anyway, I'm certain that just about NONE of my wonderful readers are impressed with the size of Dewi's pile of hair, since I understand from Red Dog Mom - over at Life with The Horde - that entire trash bags can get filled up multiple times before the "blow" is all over (of course - at the time of this writing - she does have five Cardigans). But that's okay; I just wanted to use this post to show you all what I made with the pile of hair.  :)

A couple weeks ago, Boo's Mom over at Darby's and Pumpkin's Daily posted "Don't ask me why", which if you didn't see it, is just - in my simple opinion - one of the coolest "crafty" (felting) dog posts I have ever seen. Who knew that shedded Cardigan Corgi hair could be turned into something so adorably photogenic? (Boo's Mom: I would totally frame the second photo and put it on my wall!) And to think that I had all the resources to do it myself AND I could get all my kids to make some, too; and if it worked, I'd never have to buy another cat toy again! Suddenly, I couldn't wait to grab the slicker brush. "Jon FARLeighhh!  DEWIiiiiii!  Time for your brUSHingssss!" (Remember, this was a couple weeks ago, so Dewi hadn't started molting yet.)

A brushfull each of Jon's and Dewi's hair later...TA-DA! Felted balls!

Yes, I know the photo stinks; this was the best I could get
after about 100 shots with my crappy camera. :(

But, aren't they cuUUUute! Of course, the beige one on the left is Jon Farleigh's. :) My kids were fascinated, too (they take after me). Now, wouldn't it be fun (thought I) to make a great BIG ball (think baseball) for the cat to bat (pun intended) around?

Remember the pile of fur I brushed out of Dewi (hint: up at the top of this post)? Okay, here's what I "felted" with it:

Hint: It's the big NASTY thing on the right.

Note to self: Left-brained career choices are the best choices.

Addendum note to self (added 12/18/12): Any-brained career choice is better than NO career choice. [self-hug]

*****

Boo's Mom, Jackie Bouchard (and all you other crafty folk out there - see comments here for several good examples), I am your humble admirer!


P.S. Those two small balls are displayed prominently (on a shelf) in my kitchen. :-)