~ Murphy

Murphy turned 2 yesterday.

He seriously has ADD for dogs. He should probably be on drugs for anxiety. Do they make Prozac for dogs??? Worth checking into . . .

He barks at the wind and chases the hummingbirds across the back yard. He attempts to catch flies. He pounces on the bugs at night and picks fights with the lizards that hide in the bushes. He growls and barks at strangers and sometimes that means KJ. If you get too close to me, he goes bezerk and launches into attack mode. He’s fiercely loyal and protective. He follows me everywhere I go (and I mean everywhere). He hates to be left alone. If I step out the front door and he can still see me through the window, in his mind, he’s alone and therefore he’ll show his discontent by barking and whining from inside the house. While staring right at me. It’s like he thinks something is going to happen to me out there. Or maybe he thinks something will happen to him in the house. Who knows. Personally, I think he’s a few dog bones short, ya know?

No matter what he is, he’s all mine and I’d be so lost without him. He tolerates the conversations I have with him and at times, he even pretends to listen. Something he picked up from KJ, I’m sure. He cuddles up next to me at night. I’ve yet to figure out if this is for my protection or his. Sometimes he just stares at my face and I swear he can see right through to my soul. He seems to know when I’m happy, sad or not feeling well. And I swear he can sense when I’m missing the kids.

When we first got him, he was 4 months old and the longer we had him, the more I was convinced that his previous owners had abused him in some way. Maybe it wasn’t physical abuse, but even ignoring an animal is abuse. He’s still skittish even around me, but he’s gotten so much better than the puppy who cowered and shook with fear when we first brought him home. Even though we paid for him, sometimes I think to myself that we actually rescued him. Maybe that’s why he is the way he is. Or maybe my original theory is right....he’s a few bones short of a full dog bone basket.

In any case, he gives total unconditional love and how can you not love him just for that alone?

Besides, look at those ears. And that face. Isn’t he the most adorable dog you’ve ever seen?

~ Weekend

I am so making these . . .

No Bake Chocolate Peanut Butter Oatmeal Bars

Adapted from allrecipes.com

Ingredients:

* 3/4 cup butter

* 1/2 cup packed brown sugar

* 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

* 3 cups quick cooking oats

* 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

* 1/2 cup peanut butter (smooth or chunky)

1. Melt butter in a large sauce pan over low heat. Stir in brown sugar, vanilla, and oats. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes. Press half of mixture in to the bottom of a buttered 8 x 8 dish.

2. In a microwave safe bowl, microwave the chocolate and peanut butter, stirring every 30 seconds until melted and blended. Pour the chocolate peanut butter mixture over the crust, reserving a couple of spoonfuls to drizzle over the top.

3. Sprinkle the remaining oat mixture over the chocolate and peanut butter, pressing gently to form a crust. Drizzle the remaining chocolate and peanut butter over the top of the bars.

4. Refrigerate for 3 hours before cutting and serving.

~ Happy Birthday, Ryan

Twenty four years ago today I gave birth to the most amazing boy ever. A boy who has, throughout the years, tried my patience; who has made me laugh and has made me cry. Who has a quick wit and a ready smile. A boy who is so much like his dad, it’s a bit spooky. A boy who is now a man, but will forever be his momma’s little boy.

And every year on his birthday, the memories of years past never fail to bring a smile to my face and a tear (or two) to my eye. As always, I’ll sit alone and watch the movie I made for him when he graduated from high school and while laughing and crying at the same time, I’ll be remembering each and every event in his life . . . his first word, his first step, his first date, first car; every first he’s ever had. As moms, we never forget, do we?

For instance . . . the first time KJ took him to Canada, he was barely 5 years old and in my mind, way too young to go so far from his mom for that length of time. But off they went with the promise that nothing would happen. Lyns and I drove to OKC to spend a few days with my mom and while there, Ryan called. As we were chatting, he yelled out, “A bear!! It’s a bear, Mom!” A bear ? What the hell is he doing talking to me while a bear had him in sight for dinner? Next thing I know, he’s dropped the phone in pursuit of the bear. Well hell.....

KJ gets on the phone and calmly explains that some guy had been out bear hunting and was at that moment, dragging it (‘it’ being the dead bear) up to the lodge. Obviously, Ryan was beside himself at the prospect of meeting a dead bear up close and personal. What 5-year old boy wouldn’t be, right?

He returned home from that trip without a scratch on him and somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that the Canada trips with dad would become every year trips and memories would be made that Ryan would have for a lifetime. As he got older, he would inform me that what happened in Canada, stayed in Canada. Funny, I always thought that was Vegas!

There was the time we drove to Texas when he was about 2 1/2 to have Thanksgiving with my brother and his family. For some reason, Ryan decided he wasn’t going to sleep one night while we were there. Instead, he was going to cry and pitch a hissy fit, keeping the entire household up. When the crying finally stopped, (after about 3 hours....seriously), I brought him downstairs so he could see that the entire house was awake. I’m sure this is one of those memories that everyone in the family remembers!

For the first time in 24 years I’m not with Ryan on his birthday. This year he’s on a guy trip with his dad. In Vegas. Where, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” I reminded him that his dad is old, and not to overdo things. Not only will that not deter him, he saw right through my subterfuge to what it was....me using his dad as an excuse not to get wild and crazy. I also sent him a text message telling him to make good choices but to have a great time. He came back with, “I can’t make any promises on the choices thing, mom.” I reminded him that I’m the mom and as such, it’s my duty to toss those little reminders out to him. And having made those little reminders, I felt I had done my motherly duty and the rest was up to him.

To my son, fisherman extraordinaire, Happy Birthday. I’m incredibly proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished.

I love you ~

~ Pappy & Harriet's . . . and Jack

Not too long ago, we discovered Pioneertown and this wonderful honkey-tonk, biker bar called Pappy & Harriet's. This gem is tucked away up a mountain road in Yucca.

Our first visit there, we explored Pioneertown and then went into Pappy & Harriet's for adult beverages and food. We’re sitting there with our friends, Bob & Mary, having a grand time when, at 5pm, our waitress comes over and informs us that she has to kick us out of our table. Seriously? We’ve been buying alcohol for the past 3 hours and you’re kicking us out? Sadly, yes.

It seems that on the weekends, Pappy & Harriet's has live music and if you want to stay, at least at a table, you have to have reservations. Yes, at a honkey tonk. Reservations. Go figure. Fortunately, we found room at the bar but we couldn’t hear the band at all. But, the food was wonderful and the entertainment (and I’m not talking about the band) was the best anyone could ask for.

So, this past weekend, we once again found ourselves on the road to Yucca, but this time...we had not one reservation, but two! One for the early seating and one for the late seating. (In case we weren’t quite ready to go home). Which we weren’t.

It was during the 2nd seating that I met Jack, an adorable little man with sparkling eyes, an addictive laugh and a smile that melted my heart. Jack is all of 7 years old. Jack was there with his dad, who in his own right was some guy that, according to Mary, I should have known, but I was so taken with Jack, I could have cared less about who Jacks dad was.

We were all sharing one big table, introducing ourselves, etc. I eventually glanced over at this adorable boy and asked his name. He eventually walked around to the end of the table where I was sitting and proceeded to chat like small boys do. He told me how old he was and where he lived (by the ocean) and when I asked him if he surfed, he shyly admitted that he did. Later on that evening, Jack came back to where I was sitting and showed me some motorcycle game he was playing on his dads iPhone. He’d laugh and giggle at some silly thing the bike would do and that laugh, in all its innocence, touched me in a place that had me yearning. For grandchildren.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting closer and closer to being 50. Maybe it’s because I realize that at any given moment, anything can happen. Or maybe it’s just because I know how short and precious life is and I’m becoming impatient.

I know that while grandchildren are somewhere in my future, they’re not in my ‘near’ future. When the time comes, I hope I have a grandchild just like Jack with his infectious laugh and his mischievous twinkling eyes.

It’s a given that he’ll have a quick and ready smile that will melt his grandma’s heart . . . .

~ Thought For The Day

~ Bitch Face

How perfect is this??? Having a bad day? Put your “bitch face” on!!!!