Bailey's Diary

It finally happened today. It seemed like it would never happen. I mean I could see the difference over time, but I had no idea that today would be the day.

I knew only good things come from “Up There”. Mostly I’ve been scrounging for things dropped from “Up There”. Some days, Mom doesn’t even notice that she’s dropped something so I scoop it up fast as I can before she notices. I like to squeeze myself between her and the cupboard, just in case something drops from “Up There”.
On a few occasions, someone has actually given me something that has come from “Up There”, never Mom and Dad though. Sometimes that person gets in trouble if Mom or Dad sees them, but they never have to go to the kennel like I do. It’s not fair.

It had been a long week, I worked hard and got in trouble A LOT for all that hard work. First I found Mom’s phone in her bed and had a nibble on that, then I had another nibble, and another. It didn’t taste very good at all. But boy was Mom angry when she caught me. Apparently all those nibbles means that phone doesn’t work anymore. Mom told me she was secretly happy though because then she got an iPhone. It looks even tastier!

Next I found Mom’s bras. I really like those to chew on. I pulled every one from the drawer and dragged them around the house while Mom was in the shower. Then I found the one I like the most and chewed it all up. Boy was Mom angry when she found me chewing away. Apparently that was her favorite one too.

And then yesterday, Dad didn’t lock the kennel right when he went to work. I waited until he left and then made my escape. A whole day not in the kennel! I was a little upset that Dad pulled the door behind him though so I could only stay in the bedroom, but have no fear, I used my time wisely. I curled up in Dad’s pj pants and had the whole bed to myself. And then I spied it. I’d gotten a little nibble a few weeks ago but Mom caught me too quickly and I got sent to the kennel. But yesterday, I was able to finish off the rest of that yummy library book. My favorites are True Crime books, they taste the best. Mom and Dad are now arguing over who has to tell the library they owe money for another book. I don’t think I’ll be seeing any more True Crime for a while!

But today was the best day of all. I don’t think it gets any better than today. I saw Dad making that yummy sandwich. Slow roasted pork, two thick slices of bread and some honey mustard to top it off. Boy did I get lucky that Dad forgot his lunch box in his truck and decided to go get it before he put the sandwich away. He must not have seen me, curled up in my bed, drooling as he made that glorious lunch. The minute the door swung shut, I made my move. Until now, I hadn’t been tall enough to get up there. I fell just a little bit short, but no longer. Now I can see everything that goes on “Up There” and I wanted a piece of it. I jumped up on my hind legs, planted my feet on the counter and grabbed that sandwich. Dad came back just as I grabbed it, but I’m quicker than that old guy, I swallowed every last bit of that sandwich as he chased me around the table. He caught me, like always, but this time I didn’t mind a bit when he put me in my kennel. I mean every full belly should have a much deserved nap, don’t you think?

What do you think I should do tomorrow?

xo Bailey

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Light...

This left me feeling happy. I hope it does the same for you!



I'll be back with a real post soon. Seriously, my life plays out in my head like a blog post, I just have to take the intiative to get it out of my head and onto the screen...soon!

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Deep Freeze

Do you think it’s ok to call in sick on account of being cold? It it freeeeeeezing here! I’ve taken to wearing my moccasins to work and HATE it when I have to leave my office for something, which means switching to more appropriate work attire.

Our bed has flannel sheets, two quilts and a duvet on it. I have to wear flannels to bed and I’ve seen M wear a sweater to bed more than once. If you go down the stairs to the front door, the cold comes flying up at you from the basement and you swear someone must have left a door open. It take about 2 hours for the fireplace to heat up the rec room enough that you can stand it, and even then that’s from under a sleeping bag. Heaven forbid, you fall asleep on the couch and have to get up to go to bed. I’ve laid there weighing my options on several occasions: sore neck and toasty vs. good sleep and freezing cold.

Hands and noses are always cold in these parts. And skin is scaly and devoid of most moisture. Tea and coffee is a must, but not for the caffeine benefits, for the inner warmth benefit. The office kettle broke this week, and there we were all staring and secretly freaking out about what we would do without it. Eventually someone’s brain thawed long enough to figure we could just go buy a new one.

I’ve considered hibernation. I come quite close to it during January, February and March. I get out of bed to go to work, I come home and get back in bed to do most tasks (computer work, laundry folding, etc.) I can’t wait for the time of day when I can burrow under my covers with M so that I can finally feel nice and warm all the way through! I joke that I only keep M around because he’s a human furnace. That’s only partially true...who else would I trick into letting the dog out at 11pm when it’s like minus a million out there?!

Stay warm everyone!

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The Fix

I have one angry dog. Today was the BIG day. I dropped her off at 8 this morning to be "fixed" and when I picked her up at 4 she was not happy with me or with the lampshade on her head. We made it home and after a few bumps into walls and few minutes navigating the stairs she's decided the best place to be is at my side.

Currently I'm sitting on the cold floor with a puppy draped over my legs. She's only just fallen asleep and stopped crying. Think I'll stay here for a while.

Now if only I had Go Go Gadget arms to reach my dinner that's sitting on the stove smelling so good!

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How to make my house a home and my head less crowded.

M and I bought a house in June. It absolutely killed me to not rip the house apart and begin remodeling right away. But June and July were near booked solid for the two of us, and August and September disappeared as my grandparents became ill and passed away a week apart. Any work after that was a write off, as I had work to catch up on, Christmas to prepare for and a broken heart to start mending.

Now is the time for the house. It involves ripping out ceilings and replacing with more modern and appealing ones. It involves removing mouldings and replacing them so they sit correctly. It involves new shutters and doors. It involves a new front step. It involves many gallons of paint and rolls of painting tape. It involves many a mental breakdown and many a disagreements about money.

Somehow I was cursed with a perfectionist vision and blessed with a man who doesn’t share it. I have expensive taste and a bank account that doesn’t match it. I want to be able to go out and buy the things I need, hire the necessary people to do it and have it done with. I’m not good with chaos. I like clean kitchens and clutter free tables. I like clean floors and matching furniture. Renovation is not a good time for someone with chaos issues.

But you know what I want most of all? I want to be able to enjoy this. I want M and I to share in the joy of redoing OUR house, our first house. I want to giggle as we paint. I want to eat pizza late at night, covered in dry wall dust. I want for the moulding to be crooked and to not care about it. I want to not have to leave when the ceilings are ripped out because it will induce an anxiety attack. I want to be able to spend the time to do it right and not go into debt doing it. I want us to make this house our home, together.

I want to let go of the perfection and just enjoy what I have now. Why is it so hard to do that? I have never gone into anyone’s home and noticed crooked moulding or ugly ceilings. I’ve never cared that the comfy sofa didn’t match the rocking chair. Or that their tables weren’t the same wood grain. Why do I expect more of myself?

Today I think I’ll start a worry jar. A jar to hold all of my worries, fears, and anxiety on tiny slips of paper, instead of in my head. A jar that can be buried in my backyard and out of my life. And maybe then I can be free to enjoy the amazing life spread out before me.

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Road Trip!

A run down of things that can be stuffed into a four door Mazda 3 in preparation for a 7 hour drive home:

• 2 suitcases


• 1 bag for shoes/toiletries/hair straightner/make-up/etc/


• 15 medium sized wrapped presents


• 4 bags of stocking stuffers


• 4 containers of Christmas baking


• 2 bottles of wine


• 1 (much needed) bottle of tequila


• 1 diaper bag for Bailey


• 1 large dog crate


• 1 homemade present still being made and due SOON!


• 1 dog hammock


• 2 laptops


• 2 full sized adults


• 1 growing dog


• And a partridge in a pear tree!

Merry Christmas All, I'm off to my homeland.

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Too many treats...

The puppy is sick. I suspect it may be a mild case of Too-much-family-and-eating-itis. I may also be suffering from this, which is actually quite upsetting as Christmas hasn’t actually hit yet and I still have the majority of family visits left to complete.

M’s parent’s divorced a few years before I met him, and I suspect he hadn’t quite decided how to spend Christmas before I started tagging along as it is a bit helter skelter. Last year was the first Christmas that we spent together, before that we did separate treks to our own family (dis)functions. Visits to the seaside haven known as M’s home town mean non stop visits in equal measure to both sides of the family. This requires visits and meals with both parents and their significant others, visits to grandparents on both sides, as well as other assorted relatives. It is absolutely necessary that we eat and possibly drink at each stop. As this was Bailey’s first year to tag along, what with being just 7 months old, she did a bang up job of socializing and eating without even a second thought. Quite possibly this is why she ingested a piece of fish slipped under the table by F-I-L (father in law), cat food at two stops along the way, another dog’s food, as much food that could be scrounged from the garbage pail during the lobster boil and of course turkey under slipped under the table by numerous individuals. She has yet to eat her own food, and has taken to curling up in my bed to sleep. She emerged briefly to be forced outside to pee and then to look for a treat, of course. M’s brother has a Bernese Mountain dog that is just over a year old, and they played non-stop as their house is where we rest our weary, stuffed, drunk heads each night. I’m suspecting that she is just exhausted. I did a quick “Google” check to see if any of these foods were poisonous to dogs, and so far I think I’m ok. I think in the future, when it comes to real children, I might have to keep a better eye on them, as I fear a quick “Google” check after they ingest questionable substances might be declared negligence!

We chose to attend my family gatherings last year, and have again chosen to spend the actual holidays with my family. My parents put my childhood home on the market this week and because I’m incredibly nostalgic, I must spend the final Christmas in this house. So I’m hoping that the three of us will recover before our departure on Wednesday. It appears that visit will also be jam-packed full of family and friend goodness. Not to mention improper nourishment and hydration. The only difference this weekend: Plan to be more attentive to the puppy dog. Apparently she can’t handle her parties too well!

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