Am…musings

Double down …

Doubly good for the soul …

And when they up for more playing and less sleeping in a few weeks … double trouble!

Now that I’m healthy with no looming surgeries, holidays or multi-day trips on the horizon I decided it was time for some puppies. It’s been a year and three months since I’ve fostered a dog. I had Trooper so long that I was ready for some puppy-free calm … plus letting him go broke my heart just a little bit. Instead of dogs, I fostered kitties next – Tiger Lily and Ollie. Cats are far easier, but they aren’t as fun for Chewy or as cuddly cute as this 6-week-old duo:

At this point, you might be asking yourself, “What about that weird title she gave this post?” Well, Stray Rescue names all the puppies in a litter by a theme. The last set of puppies I had were named after characters on Dynasty. These two … named after 80s hair bands. Fun theme … really dumb names. The adorable little boy on the right is Poison. His cuddly little sister is Whitesnake. Really?

I knew by the time I got the slightly pudgy Poison into the car that he was going to be Buster Brown while he was at my house. I wasn’t so sure about the sweet girl. She’s about half his size so I imagine she was the runt of the litter, but she’s far more adventurous and sassy than he is (so far, he’s a bit nervous and just wants to sleep). Still, Sassy didn’t seem like a good fit. Her little tail wags incredibly fast, especially when she’s trying to play with Chewy, but nothing came to mind that would fit that.

Then it hit me. In the car on the way home, she wouldn’t settle down if any music besides country was on. Naming her after a country artist seemed like the perfect rebellion against Whitesnake. Paisley (as in Brad) seems to be sticking. I also considered Faith and Toby, although that seemed too boyish. Any other suggestions?

This morning, I opened to door to let Chewy out and spotted a small, dog-like animal. It was far enough away that I wasn’t really sure what it was, but as it got closer, I decided it was a fox. Chewy was oddly and thankfully quiet (or I think Mr. Fox would have bolted sooner than he did). And I uttered what is apparently my go-to word for unexpected wildlife near my house … the eff-word. This time it was a disbelieving, “shut the eff up.” (See here for the last “wildlife potty mouth” phrase of the day.)

I guess it just shocks me to see fox, raccoons and hawks in my subdivision. I just never guessed when I moved to SoCo (a fairly populated suburb of St. Louis better known as South County) that I’d see so much wild life. I grew up in a less populated suburb, just south of South County and really never saw many animals at all, despite our house being a across from a large wooded area. Perhaps I paid less attention as a kid, or maybe the animals were able to hide in the woods … and here they really have no choice.

It’s kind of a nice surprise (see … who needs theme parks?). This little guy (smaller than Chewy I think) was super cute and looked beautiful running through the brush behind my neighbor’s house.

In my last post about tomorrow’s surgery I talked about how my prep was going to be like a fast at a fancy spa. Umm … not!

I imagine at a fancy spa, I’d have an awesome (hopefully sexy) chef named Sven (I love men who can cook) creating healthy juice smoothies and other fast-friendly concoctions. Unfortunately, the Slurpee for lunch and beef broth and Jell-O for dinner at my “spa” haven’t been exactly satisfying … and there certainly wasn’t a “Sven” serving them to me.

Plus (as Val suggested in the comments Monday) spas should offer foot massages and lavender scented baths. I don’t see that happening here.

I also envision that spas that offer fasting are mostly found in gorgeous, warm locations. That is absolutely not the case at this “spa.”

But the real reason this spa sucks … the nasty-ass bottle of magnesium citrate I had to drink about five hours ago and its results.

A week ago today, I had laparoscopic surgery to remove the fibroids I learned about in January, one of which was close to softball size. I guess I should have told you sooner. It just seemed odd to broadcast something like surgery on a blog and Facebook.

All went fairly well, but then I really wasn’t feeling up to sharing an update … plus it didn’t seem all that exciting. It still really isn’t … I’m at the point where I’m just feeling a bit tired and a lot sore, which typically isn’t an issue as long as I move slowly. The major times it was an issue in the early days after surgery was when I sneezed or coughed … ouch!!! Then this weekend I realized there is a wonderful thing we do with our stomach muscles … laugh.

My neighbor had some friends in town that are pretty funny so I had to “suffer” around them a few times this weekend and then I watched Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist last night and there were a few spots that just about killed me. (It’s actually a pretty cute flick that I definitely recommend.) Sort of like with sneezing and coughing, I could somewhat try to control the laughing, but then holding back on an all-out guffaw and thinking about the fact that I was trying not to laugh just make me chuckle even longer, which still hurt (although it was much more satisfying than a controlled cough or sneeze … hate those).

But then I do love to laugh … so I guess it’s worth the pain. And it does seem the more I stretch and work my stomach muscles, the better I feel the next day.

D. and the seven other guys I joined for the Mizzou Arch Rivalry game (37-9 Mizzou, thank you!), would have cringed to know I spent a good part of the game preoccupied with the bad Bumpit ‘do in the row right in front of us. I even faked taking pics of a “really important” play to get a shot of the faux pas …

People with thin hair have to be extra careful, but I imagine this could happen to anyone. Extra teasing, careful hair arranging and a slight backbend while checking out your ‘do in the mirror will go along way in avoiding this.

I “backbend-ed” in a few angles this morning to make certain I was good. And then proceeded to ask a few close female coworkers if they could see it (I kind of think pointing out the bad Bumpit should be a civic duty much like coming clean if someone has broccoli in their teeth!)

When I was a kid, my folks would occasionally buy a plain brown lunch sack filled with freshly baked soft pretzel sticks from “vendors” walking car to car at a few busy St. Louis intersections (is this intersection-vendor thing something that happened or happens at other cities?). Back then I had no idea where the rods of doughy goodness came from … the pretzel fairy I guess.

Gone are the days when I’d feel safe buying food from a stranger at an intersection, but luckily two former coworkers clued me into the pretzel fairy’s true identity … Gus of Gus’ Pretzels on Arsenal just a block west of Highway 55. And I not only discovered that Gus existed, but also that he offers a lot more than plain old pretzels. When I worked downtown, we’d head to lunch there every few weeks for unbelievably yummy pretzel hotdogs … a large hotdog wrapped in pretzel dough. There’s also bratwurst and salsiccia, as well as deli sandwiches made on a twisted pretzel.

Anytime I’m near downtown at lunchtime except on Monday (when Gus’ is closed), I stop in for a pretzel hotdog fix, which was the case today. I also get a stick or two … I prefer them over the twists because I find the slightly crunchy ends dee-lightful. And I love that everything is still “served” in brown lunch sacks, although these days they are printed with Gus’ logo.

And I would haven take a picture … but I was so hungry and in such a hurry for my fix that they were gone before it even occurred to me. I guess you’ll just have to visit the pretzel fairly and see for yourself.

I’ve heard from a source that lives near Keller Farms (my friend Sheryl) that this is the last weekend for the incredibly fresh and yummy day-old corn. I’m not able to confirm it on Keller’s Web site, but thought I’d share the information anyway because the corn is worth the trip regardless.

I think I’ll make the trip tomorrow!

The alternative title for this post was “My Shower With a Cute, Furry Guy,” aka Chewy. He’s a digger. As a puppy, he dug all the time. He was also a great teacher (or ringleader) and usually got the fosters digging. My dad and I’ve filled most of the holes, but he’s found a few and when it rains, he can’t resist.

Unfortunately, it’s been raining A LOT lately. I should have known better … a few days ago, I caught him lightly dipping his paw in a tiny pond that had formed in one of the holes. The look on his face was devious … and joyful. I yelled then and he stopped. But Wednesday evening I was on the phone with a cute (non-furry) guy and not paying much attention to the pooch. Here’s the result …

It’s difficult to tell with his coloring, but that’s mostly mud, not water, on his chin, ears and front legs. And his belly and back legs looked about the same.

After a cocktail with dinner (to keep me from wanting to shoot him), I changed into some grubby clothes and stuck him in the tub. Because he was so mud-caked, the water from the faucet and a plastic cup just weren’t cutting it so Chew and I hit the shower.

For a dog that loves the hose and will stand out in the rain forever, the tub freaks him out and the shower was pure torture. Nor was it my idea of a good time. Plus, grubby clothes or not, his digging is making a mess around my house. So, if anyone has any advice for keeping a dog from digging, I’d welcome it.

The week before the Art Museum and picnic outing, I learned my date likes mushrooms. Inspired by my friend Mary, who whipped up a yummy ‘shroom dip for a Kit Dr. party a few weeks ago, and this BigOven recipe, I did what I rarely do and cooked without a recipe. I think Mary chopped regular button mushrooms and sautéed them in butter and wine, but I spotted a double package of portobellos and decided to use one in the dip and have the other for dinner.

I started by marinating, then grilling the mushrooms:
• 1 clove garlic, pressed
• 1 tsp. shallot, minced (I used dried shallots from Penzey’s)
• A pinch or two of dried thyme (fresh would be better, but I don’t have it at this time of year)
• 1/8 cup red wine vinegar
• 1/3 cup olive oil
• Cracked black pepper
• 2 large portobello mushrooms

Whisk together the marinade ingredients.

Remove the portobello stems and discard.

Cut a shallow “X” and the bottom of the mushroom and lightly score the top in a crisscross pattern.

Place the mushroom caps in 9X13 pan.

Pour half the marinade onto the side with gills and rub in.

Flip the mushrooms over and pour the remaining marinade over the top.

Let marinate for at least 30-60 minutes.

Grill over medium heat for 5-7 minutes per side.

I then mixed the dip (I actually used the food processor to avoid chopping the mushrooms like Mary did, but don’t recommend it because mine doesn’t look very appetizing):

• 1 large grilled portobello mushroom, finely chopped
• 1 package reduced-fat cream cheese, softened
• 1 generous splash of red wine
• 1 clove garlic, pressed
• 1 Tbsp. shallots, minced
• A few slices of pickled jalapeno, minced well (this added a nice flavor and it really isn’t hot at all; I imagine crushed red pepper would also work)
• Salt or garlic salt to taste

Mix the ingredients and chill.

Serve on Cracked Pepper & Olive Oil Triscuits (the best food on earth according to my neighbor Marsha, who very thoughtfully picked up a box on sale for me to take on the picnic.)