more pippin . . .

but of course more Pippin, how not?

stalking a mouse?

catching said mouse

                                                           what is with that appendage?

bliss!

                                                                    and thus is Pippins life!

p.s. Pippin met Bear this morning.  At least Bear did not run away like Ninja did.  Bear laid on the floor and meowed.  Pippin danced.  Bear cried.  Pippin danced.  Bear mewed.  Pippin danced.  Bear left.  Pippin danced. 

yummo x 2 . . .

Kelli posted this recipe for grilled bread with zucchini, basil and ricotta cheese from RealSimple.com.

Grilled Bread With Zucchini, Ricotta, and Basil

Serves 4
Hands-on Time: 20m
Total Time: 20m

Ingredients

• 4 1/2-inch-thick slices country bread
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 small zucchini (about 2 pounds), thinly sliced lengthwise
• 1 cup fresh basil, leaves torn
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper
• kosher salt
• 1 cup fresh ricotta

Directions:

1. Heat grill to medium-high. Brush the bread with 1 tablespoon of the oil and grill until golden and crisp, about 1 minute per side. Transfer to plates. 

2. Grill the zucchini until tender and slightly charred, 3 to 4 minutes per side. Toss in a large bowl with the basil, red pepper, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and the remaining tablespoon of oil. 

3. Top the bread with the zucchini and ricotta.

I made it tonight substituting herbed goat cheese for ricotta and swooned.  Delicious.  Well, if you like goat cheese which apparently the 9TS does not.  Katie, being Katie, refused to try, she not being a cheese person . . .    All the more for me, just call me piglet but if you like zucchini and goat cheese . . . a little slice of heaven. 

Pippin update:

As little as she is, Pippin has discovered she can get up on my bed using the bench at the end as a half way spot.  Then she tears across, up over the pillows, back down, bounding over the bed, back on the bench and skids across the floor.  Repeat 5 or 6 times at autobahn speed and then plop over pooped on the floor until it's time for the second rep.  Yay Pippin.

Meet . . .

                                                                                 pippin!

the newest member of our family.  she was in a cage at the mall.  no! not in a pet store.  she was there with a rescue shelter looking for a home.  we took one look and fell in love but weren't sure it would be good for bear and ninja.  turns out i knew the shelter owner, so we told her if the kitten wasn't

adopted over the weekend, we would take her.  when we didn't hear anything on monday, we assumed she was adopted.  so much for assumptions.  we got a call tuesday saying she was ours.  arrangements for pick-up were made followed by a quick trip to dr. nixon, who pronounced her healthy and happy.  She's quite a pip!!

p.s. there are two out of joint noses in this house.  although they haven't met her, ninja and bear know she is here . . .  sniff, sniff, sniff, wiggle, sniff, shove your paw under the door!

Electrifying . . .

There is excitement in the air.  Energizing!   But it is also a little scary . . .  upsetting the apple cart with this newness.  But it is a done deal.  Everyone will just have to put on their big girl panties or boxers.  

I sit waiting for the call.  The one that will forever change our lives it a million little ways.  Come on phone RING!!!!

random thoughts and brain aberrations . . .

*happy birthday to my goodest friend, kel!   

*yesterday i got my hair trimmed and blown dry.  today i have straight hair like normal people . . .

*if i don't wear mascara, i don't have eyes.  if you are a red head, you understand this.

*there is a bear nestled in my armpit while i type.  i love bears.

*today i apply for social security retirement benefits.  i think they made a mistake.  i am only 22.

*why do i hate cleaning so much?  my black cat is dusty.

*the 9ts is picking kaitlyn up from high school orientation and dropping her off at work.  what
happened to the little girl we referred to as 'the baby' for so long?

*why is my wide format printer still in its box after three months?

*if i don't go shopping soon, the 9ts will start chewing on my toes.

*it is tuesday and there is no yoga.  i am sad.

*it is tuesday and my buds are both out of town.  no lunch.  i am sad.

*i don't like capitals today.  maybe tomorrow.

*the 9ts is cancer free.  it makes my whole face smile.

*the 9ts has offered to take me to lunch.  did i ever tell you how much i love this sloth?

this post is brought to you by Carrabba's . . .

we've decided to move into their establishment permanently.  The location is good, the ambiance warm and friendly, the food . . .  does life get any better after a little Polo Rosa Maria?  The neighbors?  Take a look:

The infamous Richard.  Our waiter extraordinaire.  Who could resist his culinary suggestions?  His goofy sense of humor.  Richard is Richard, what can I say?

And how else to be greeted than by Hope . . . with a hug each and every time.  And Hannah  . . .  Hannah was MIA when these shots were taken . . . but she's a hugger too.  Such a warm feeling when the 9TS and I walk in the door.

And on a rare Monday night when Richard was king and running the kitchen, we met Matt.  Another super waiter.  So if you go there and we are hogging all of Richard's attention, ask for Matt.  He's wiley wizard waiter #2.

and then there was the three of us.  The 9TS, Richard and I . . . thanks to Hope's picture taking ability.

And last but not least, the fabulous twosome themselves . . .  my very own 9TS with Richard.  Life is good at Carrabba's!  Slurp.

See you next Friday!

Goodness snakes alive . . .

I call it the revenge of the 9TS.  He was the one to spot it first.  He is the one who will not touch them.  Thankfully our resident animal remover was in town.  Katie to the rescue . . .   and if the pictures are blurry, just chalk it up to my dislike of the critters as well.  No way was I getting up close and personal just to get perfect shots.  No way, no how!

OK, so I didn't want to sunbathe or go swimming for the rest of the summer.  No problemo.  I never did share well.


Peace out, snake.

on not being a grandmother . . .

Katie is not pregnant.  Not that we ever thought she was.  But it sure was fun to announce it to the 9TS in the middle of the Walmart parking lot and watch his face go from normal to white to red and then watch him start to breathe again.  OK, we have a singularly warped sense of humor.  Let's back up.

Katie has been complaining of a lower back ache for a couple of months now but when I saw her chomping on Tylenol repeatedly during our vacation, it was time to call our primary care physician.  His office is manned by three doctors.  Two are in the office all week while the third is doing hospital rounds and they rotate.  However, one of the doctors is out on maternity leave so that leaves the two remaining: one in the office, one at the hospital.  To save time, her doctor just called in the orders for an X-ray and off we headed. 

The first thing the tech asked as soon as she saw my diminutive 22 year old was, "Any chance you could be pregnant?"  I look at Katie and Katie looks at me and she says, "I don't think so."  That was not good enough for the tech and she shooed us off to the lab for a pregnancy test.  Of course we were giggling like little kids and making stupid jokes . . .

Even the tech was giggling by the time she told us what we already knew.  I am definitely not going to be a grandmother.  But that didn't stop us from terrorizing the 9TS.  That was five hours ago and he's still glowering at us. 

the story of the ring . . .

This is a long fairly stupid story so you can pass now and we will still be friends.  Ok?!?!

Going back quite a few years, I wanted a thumb ring.  I just thought they were cool and I wanted one.  The 9TS, on the other hand, was less than thrilled with the object of my desire.  "They look trashy.", he exclaimed.  Tacky was another word he used.   On and on our arguments raged whenever the subject came up.  I finally acquiesced.  Not that I do that on a regular basis, because I am really more of a  . . . Gee, I want it, it's mine  . . .  kind of gal, but he seemed so adamant, you choose your battles, you know what I mean?

A couple of months ago, we, meaning mostly he, got hooked on watching, No Reservations, starring Anthony Bourdain.  We followed him around the Greek Isles, into Romania, through Russia.  We trekked with him in the Andes, Peru and all points south.  We crossed the border with him into Mexico  . . .    you get the idea.

What you may not know, is that Anthony Bourdain, sports . . . . gasp!!!!

Yep, you got it!!!  A thumb ring!!!!  Now I suppose you think this reopened old wounds and you would be right.  It did . . .  but with a twist.  It was the 9TS who now coveted a thumb ring, much to my dismay.  My objection was not that he wanted one but that he wanted one after years of pummeling me about wanting one.  Now it must be told that I am way past my thumb ring phase.  I have moved on to bigger and better desires, but to have my beloved turn the tables was not going down without a battle.

I teased him unmercifully every time the subject came up.  I whined and moaned of the inequity. I railed, I pouted, I wailed!  But, the 9TS being a - Gee, I want it, it's mine - kind of guy,  proceeded to buy himself a little thumb bling.  He finally looked at me and said, "I lost a toe, I lost a lung, I deserve a thumb ring."  I shut up.  Point taken.  But, I still repeat my sob story every time someone comments on his ring.  I can't resist.

Fast forward to last Monday at Moffitt.  In wanders Dr. Z.  The very first thing out of his mouth is, "Why are you wearing your wedding ring on your thumb?"  I, of course, burst into laughter and do an instant replay bringing Dr. Z up to date on the saga . .     Dr. Z. just shakes his head but he is grinning.

After the exam and the wonderful pronouncement, Dr. Z asks if there is anything else he can do for us.  She, who is worse than a dog with a bone, asks if he could write a medical excuse for the 9TS to not wear his ring.  Dr. Z. with absolutely no hesitation, replies, "No, but I can take his thumb off when you come back next time."

I love Dr. Z!!!!!!!

drum roll please . . . .

We did see Dr. Z.  But, he was chocked full of wonderful news.  The scan had been read and it was CLEAR!!!!!!  No, Mel and his cousin.  Nobody home.  Hooray!  Doing hand stands and back flips.  Of course he is still at high risk for return and we go back again in three months . . .  but in the meantime . . . hoist the mainsail, trim the jib, it's clear sailing boys!!!!!!

Thank you all for the juju!!!!! 

on just being bad . . .

Nothing makes me happier when doing a three hour wait then to find free wifi!  A definite plus in the world of boredom.  Not that I wouldn't have happily glued my nose in a book, but this way I can play with Photoshop, check email and well . . . blog.

Anyone who has sat through a loved one's PET scan quickly learns to bring something to pass the time, so I wasn't surprised to see the back of a woman's head as she worked her needle point.  Her long gray hair fell beyond her neck, hidden by the chair back, her shoulders bobbing occasionally, as she tended to her work.  At one point she raised an arm high enough for me to get a visual.  I was surprised to see how thick and hair encompassed it was.  While I am not fur free myself, mine is blond.  More peach than coconut . . .  but I digress

Did I mention I am a people watcher from way back?  I love watching folks interact especially when they have no idea they are being observed.  Enter a lone, rather fragile, elderly woman, her banded arm declaring her a patient rather than waiting family.  She saw, as I did, the back of the needle pointer and headed over to chat.  While I didn't hear her opening comment emanate from her warm and patient face, the needle pointer definitely replied to be heard:  "None of your business."  The woman visibly flinched and shakily stumbled into the closest seat.  Recovering herself, she asked if HE had said "None of your business."  To which in deep resonating voice, he replied 'yes'.  The obvious befuddled woman replied, "I've never heard such a direct response.", to which she quickly added, "or rude."

Her gods were watching over her today as one of the tech's called her name for her procedure.  She passed me mumbling about lack of manners . . .

An hour later, I am still watching he with the long hair, working away.  No one has ventured into his seating area since. 

exit 9 . . .

Tomorrow I have to drag the 9TS kicking and screaming back over to Tampa for his four month PET scan.  He seriously does not like sitting around for three hours in temperatures meant only for meat lockers so he can be stuck in a claustrophobic tube to have his paper wrapped body scanned from head to foot.  But, it needs to be done and he knows it so he grumbles and follows the rules. 

Then we need to run some quick errands for things available in the big city that are impossible to find in our backwater town . . . like this perfect Mexican type dip from the cheese deli.  Yummo! 

A little lunch and then back to Moffitt for our meeting with Dr. Z.  In the five years we've been battling Mela and his cousin Noma, we've learned a couple of things about Dr. Z:

1.  If he doesn't show and our meeting is hosted by his side kick Chris, it's excellent news. 

2.  If it is Dr. Z who pops his head through the door, the news is not so hot and we hear the dreaded, "We'll this wasn't what you hoped to hear."

3.  If the news is really bad, he will tell us he has to wait for the official readings and take the info to their board meeting and will let us know in a couple of days.  This is his polite way of saying, "Oh, crap!"  "I need time to line up whichever oncology specialist we will need this go round."

Not that we don't like Dr. Z. but you can understand our penchant for Chris.  Good, funny, reliable, hardworking, not getting stuck delivering the bad news . . . Chris. 

And so dear readers, if you say little prayers or send out good vibes or think good thoughts, or stick pins in evil voodoo dolls, we could really use some good juju.  Please.  Thank you.  Amen.

so excited . . .

We were driving through a semi rural area when it came tearing out of the woods from the the left side, hurdling over the two lanes of empty west bound asphalt, across the median and then covered our east bound lanes, some 150 feet in front of us and into the woods again.  At first we thought it was a common house cat but its size was prohibitive, its coloring a singular creamy beige except for the black and white on its muzzle and the white tip on its rope like tail.  It was sleek, muscular and lithe.  It was, after thirty six years in this state, my first sighting of a Florida Panther. 

In retrospect, we don't think it was full grown.  Not as filled out as some of the photos we subsequently looked up, but definitely a panther.  Amazing!!!!

i need to go back . . .

so happy to be playing with photoshop again . . .

special thanks to Dawn Inskip, Anna Aspnes and Vinnie Pearce.

one nagging thing . . .

Karenika, whose blog I scrounge for creative ideas, has set a goal for herself to do one nagging thing each day.  She has set a ton of other daily/weekly goals as well.  So many so that I had to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers, just reading them.  She is wonder woman with the number of accomplishment she finishes each day.  Whew!

But the 'one nagging thing' has been . . . well . . . nagging me.  So this morning, after a quick check of my computer, I leaped out of bed and pulled out all the bills that backlogged while we were drifting lazily around that big puddle, sharpened my pencil and balanced my checkbook and paid my bills.  Then I jumped through the usual bureaucratic hoops to get the 9TS's next visit to Moffitt covered . . .  you know you are way too familiar when you and both your insurance specialist and the referral officer at the hospital are on a first name basis and you know where they spent their vacations.  And then, I called Katie's rental manager to get her lease straightened out for next year.   So, does that relieve me of my one nagging duty for the next three days or do I have to start all over again tomorrow.  Because of course there is still the ironing to be done, and the kitchen floor, and Katie's closet, the pool deck, the bathroom . . . 

late night meanderings . . .

Bear woke me up again to play fetch.  Yes, he thinks he is a dog.  The 9TS rolls up little tight wads of paper and Bear carries them around in his mouth.  He then bounds onto the bed and drops said ball unceremoniously onto my head.  If I don't wake up immediately, he paws the sheets until I do.  Nice Bear.  And since I am then up, I throw it out into the loft and he slams off the bed, scudders across the hard wood floors, retrieves the toy and bounds back onto the bed.  We play this over and over and over again until he tires, looses it or I confiscate it.  Tonight he lost it somewhere in the depths of my scrap room.

The only problem is, I am now wide awake, while Bear slumbers in my armpit and I remember we picked up two gourmet slices of cake at Publix this afternoon.  They are nestled in a bakery box in the fridge and I am truly considering a raid at this late hour.  It is calling to me.  Distinctly.  Maybe if I go stare at it for a bit, the craving will disappear.  I think I'll try it . . .

happy fourth of july!!!!

Independence Day.   In more ways then one.  I finally finished blogging our vacation . . . so I cheated a little on Saint Tropez . . .  I'll add photos later . . .  or not.  After a while everything starts to blend together.  But we are all back safe and sound if not sane.  The laundry is done, emails and Facebook caught up upon, and gee, I am only three classes behind over at JessicaSprague.com but that gives me something to do this summer.

I wish you all well this day and am thankful for the freedom it represents.  A huge thanks to all who served to make it so . . . past and present.