Animal Enthusiast

A sure fire way to get a quick reaction out of me is to utter the words “cat lady” in my general direction. The word “crazy” I don’t mind so much, as the best people in this world tend to be slightly off their rocker.
Often I will holler back “Animal Enthusiast!” I adore animals. But a crazy cat lady? Fuck no.

I understand the confusion, as the number of cats in the house does out number the people. (Two. There are two people)

However to be a quote crazy cat person, the assumption is that the human likes cats. I absolutely am not a cat person.
I do adore my cats, like people who love and tolerate their children but cannot stand any others.
My favorite pet will always be a dog.  Lots of cats however have wandered in to my life and I begrudgingly give them care, food and shelter until we find a new home or they somehow join the ranks. We do this with all types of animals, but cats seem to be the most common in need.

Until recently I had completely forgotten that I disliked cats most of my childhood. What sturred up old feelings of cat dislike?

Remington Steel.

Remy the cat showed up at our door a few months back. Through coyotes, bears, and a super mean pack of turkeys, she found her way on our back porch one full moon. The poor grey blue cat was a skeleton. I honestly thought she may not make it through the night. Remy was thankful, purring loudly between and during bites of food.
We posted photos and ads around, but no one claimed her. Soon we realized why. Remington Steel was absolutely pregnant.

Many months have passed, and we have found homes for all but two of the kittens (twin females) and still no home for Remy.  She has gained weight, is a beautiful grey blue with a silver mouth and yellow/green eyes. She also has resting bitch-face.

While Remy is an absolute sweetheart who loves to cuddle and is great with other animals she also has seriously bad manners when it comes to food. Remy is a food stealer, possibly the worst I have seen. She is food obsessed and will focus on nothing food until there is none. Then she moves on to the dogs food, the pantry, the garbage and even climbs into the sink.
From day one we have made it clear that stealing, jumping on the counters, knocking plates over, is completely unacceptable behavior. I have sprayed this cat with a squirt bottle so many times in one meal that she looked like she had been bathed. I also accidently taught Remy to sit on command which shows me she is smart along with being food driven.

I do know that somewhere out there is the perfect home for Remy, maybe someone looking for a mouser (she has caught 4 and a chipmunk who ran inside) who is great with dogs and other cats. Remy is sweet but needs an owner willing to work on her food obsession. She is smart, and made great strides but still has farther to go.

Adopt, don’t shop.

Animal Enthusiasts unite


Tomorrow is the 5th year anniversary of the death of Gabe’s father and my ex fiancee Alex C. Raymond. This seems impossible, and even speaking about it, I feel almost the same as when I first heard. How can this be true? There is always this little part of me that expects him to suddenly jump out in front of me because this has been some long running joke. Because that was his sense of humor.
While I don’t believe I can write up a full blog post in his honor, as this loss, this wound is still just as fresh as the first time. Instead of continuing the focus on his loss, I am going to instead tell my favorite story about Alex.

Alex was the kind of person that you didn’t notice until you noticed him. While he always blended in, his height was hard to miss, at 6’3″. Alex also had a full beard from a young age. If he didn’t shave, he looked like an adult male, at just 18. When we first met, Alex was finishing highschool 6 months early. He had been walking down a hallway he took every single day when a security guard Alex had passed every single day for 5 months suddenly stopped him, frisked him and questioned why Alex was in the building. But Alex didn’t have his student ID on him.

It took two students and a teacher to convince the guard that Alex was a student and not some armed assailant
When he got home that night, Alex was furious. How could someone he had passed multiple times a day not have ever noticed him before?
We talked and to distract him we started talking about a favorite pastime of his, messing with people.

Alex did it all the time, in fact we sort of bonded over our stories. Like I said, this is about my favorite Alex story.

Once, Alex was sitting in the middle of English class when an obnoxious student sitting behind him wouldn’t stop insulting Canada. Alex, born and raised Canadian with duel citizenship decided he needed to step in and defend his mother country.
Alex told the kid the knock it off, that he lived in Canada until he was 13.
“Really?” The kid asked. ” Is it true that Canadians don’t have dogs?”

Alex stopped. This person was an imbecile. But he knew he could have fun with it.

“Oh,Yeah.” He said casually. “Completely, dogs are rare in Canada.”

“Seriously?!?” The kid had a glint in eyes. “So if I took a bunch of puppies there, I could sell them?”
“For thousands.” Alex said” But remember, you have to smuggle them in at the border. Because you can’t bring outside dogs without permit, but thats”  Alex tapped his nose with his finger

“Yeah,” the other kid said, amazed.

I have no idea if this mystery teen ever tried puppy smuggling but Alex just saying “Dogs are rare in Canada” used to send me into fits of giggling.

I miss you Alex, and think about you daily.

In his honor, here is a link to my post about Veteran Suicide.

Regarding Furbabies

People always say that loving a pet is not the same as loving a child.
Bullshit. I have both a child and many pets.

I love them all so very much.
Now, I do not treat my animals like children. I do not drop them off at school and have teachers meetings or report cards. My animals do not have chores, and I don’t expect them to pick up after themselves although that would be amazing.

I do however feed and nurture both my child and pets multiple times a day. I discipline bad behavior and encourage and cheer on the good.
I say goodnight and have a bedtime routine.
I take care of them when they are sick, including treating them with medicine and giving cuddles and hugs.
I comfort them when they have nightmares(my dog has good dreams and bad ones and talks in her sleep)
I have been woken in the night by both animals and child because they needed the bathroom or they just needed to cuddle in bed with mom.
I bring them to the doctor to make sure they are healthy. I fear their surgeries. I take care of them afterwards as I have done after Gabe’s surgeries.
And I am heartbroken at the death or loss of my fur babies. I would be devastated if it was my human child, and have thankfully only loss the fur ones.

So OK, no, I did not birth a rat, cat, or pitbull from my vagina. But the list above sure sounds like parenting to me.

And, if you read that list and have pets that you do not treat this way, frankly, you shouldn’t have them. If you are unwilling to take that animal into your home and do those things please don’t get the animal and instead let it go to someone who will treat it that way and treat that beautiful baby the way it deserves to be treated.

Hug those furred and unfurred babies,

Amber Rose


I have quite a lot of musicals on my iPod and on CD. My son is always singing songs that he has either heard from me or from my collection.

One day I hear singing coming out of my son G’s room. He was 5 at the time, and is sitting on the floor, playing with legos and singing “Singing in the Rain”
I think its totally adorable. I start to melt, thinking about how cute he looks while he is singing.

My at the time boyfriend walks down the hall to join up.
He starts to shudder.

Depending on where you know the song from, either Singing in the Rain or Clockwork Orange, a tiny child singing to himself in an empty room is either very cute or extremely creepy.

That’s when I realized its all about what you are a fan of, or more importantly, your perspective. Are tiny, singing children cute? Do they cause you to perspire from fear?
Where do you know your music from? Is that glass half-full, half-empty, or causing you to question which child drank half your drink and left the rest?

At least there’s room for vodka,


Why I am a “No Nudie”

This is a blog post from another blog I have. It is under a different name. It is a blog in fact I believe most my friends and family are completely unaware of. This is because of its more adult content.

Usually I wouldn’t cross-share a post, however this one seemed like an important post to share.

“Why I don’t post nudes.

This might seem like a strange forum to talk about not displaying nudity.
I do not have any moral objection to nudism. In fact, the moment I can at home I shed my clothes and prance around naked. One of my favorite nighttime routines is standing in front of the wood stove, feeling the heat on my uncovered skin.

No, my reason for not brandishing it all for the world to see is completely personal.

It took me 30 years to learn to love my body. 30 years to find beauty in every curve, scar, mole, freckle and yes, even stretch marks.
I find so much beauty in my few grey hairs. They are like glittery highlights.

So how can I allow you, just an anonymous human, to look upon the beauty of my naked body? How can I trust that you will see and love my body for the work of art it is?
You see me for a mere second, and bam, in that instant, you have already made your judgment. You don’t know the battle that created those scars. The love of the ocean, sand and heat that caused those freckles. The mole on my leg is just a mark. Not something that has been with me since birth. And you don’t know the child that I sacrificed my stomach for and won those silvery tiger stripes.

No, if you want to see me, and  behold the beauty of my soft velvet skin, and pillowy white round mounds under my blouse, you must work up to it. Worship me as the Goddess I am. And when you are ready, (I will know when you are ready) you will see me, for who I truly am.”

Hope you enjoyed! I feel the message is important. Love and worship your body. The world doesn’t need to see it because strangers will never love it as much as your body should be loved.

Be careful who you are sending photos to, make sure they are worthy of you putting yourself out there!

Accounts get hacked, photos get stolen. I am not telling you to not post your beautiful bod, (unless you are under 18 and then YES I am telling you DO NOT send or post that nude!) I am asking you to proceed with caution and use that beautiful brain that is just as incredible as your body.

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Help your Veterans

Panic. I am filled with panic.
I shouldn’t be, but emotions don’t exactly do what they are told.

I have the urge to write, but no inspiration.
I had the idea for a funny post, but then I logged online and read that 200 more troops are being sent to Iraq.

This has sent me into a tale spin.
200 more men and women being sent out. Who will see horrific things. Who will come back, possibly broken inside and out.

They won’t get the help they need. They won’t go out and seek it, because they are trained to be warriors from the start.
They are warriors, and they battle things internally that those of us who have never seen war cannot comprehend.

I sit here, clutching my necklace, a folded flag design that profits went to support helping veterans battling depression. I do not know if this is true, but that is what I was told when I was given the necklace.

I am very emotionally tied to the subject of war in the US. I am going to push those feelings and opinions far down to the firey pit deep inside me.
These soldiers are adults, they have made their choice.

All I ask, please, please care for them when they come back. Care for these souls the way you claim to. Don’t do it fake, don’t plaster your chain store with items that the sales somehow get back to the  Veterans Hospital. Don’t plaster your Facebook wall or car bumper, claiming you “Support Our Troops”

Help. Get out there and help. Give a job to that struggling Vet who got back and is undergoing treatment. Help the soldier you know is struggling deep inside.
Lead them to the services they need if you can.
And for god sakes, say something. If you see or suspect that anyone around you could possible commit suicide, say something. The absolute worse thing you can do is  stay silent. The person may be upset at you for a while, but if you happen to stop their attempt, you have kept them here. There is always help. It can always get better.

Alex, I miss you every day.


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Excuses, excuses

Please excuse the absence. I have had a huge case of writers block that is looming over me like a dark cloud. I have been blank for over a week now and being left completely uninspired is actually quite exhausting to a person.
I have a class tomorrow and hopefully will have some time Sunday devoted to coming up with a topic I can write more than a few sentences about.

In the mean time, I am going to curl up in bed, watch Always Sunny in Philadelphia and giggle until I find sleep.

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New Roommate

My friend J moved in last night. He needs somewhere to stay for a few weeks until he can find a place. I don’t mind, we have a bedroom upstairs that is never used.

J got his first taste as to what its like living off the grid. I had to drive down the hill to meet him. He parked at the bottom. I am so thankful for the amazing car I bought. So far it has gotten us up and down safely and only twice now I almost slid into the neighbors bush. I also made it out of a ditch which was incredibly impressive!

J piled his belongings into my car and we drove back up the rollercoaster of a road.
First things first. When you enter the house, the door is incredibly awkward, and slows you down. I believe it was designed that way on purpose. See, the original owners/builders wanted a place off the grid in case the world came to an end.
When I first moved in, none of the doors had doorknobs. I had to have them installed. At first it was humorous to explain to people, but after having every visitor mention it, “Hey, did you know you don’t have door knobs?”
Yes, I noticed that. I also noticed the giant fake wooden safe in the kitchen wall too.
Yes, there is seriously a giant fake wooden safe. It covers a storage area that runs through the house. This may have been for storage, but it could have been a place to hide considering the way its covered, and the two door knob less awkward mudroom set up would slow down intruders.
So far, we have discovered 5 hidden areas in the house, but have only physically been in 4 of them.

I explained to J the layout of the house, about the secret rooms, how we have to boil the water for one minute before we can drink it and keep jugs of water in the fridge.
I showed him the wood stove, the tech room(this houses the solar batteries, and all the important stuff that runs the windmill and solar panels)and how to work the generator in case we ever lose power.

J met the pets and then we just hung out for a bit.
It’s great to have another set of hands here, and J will be able to watch the pets when I take G and two friends to Great Escape later in May for his birthday.

The snow from the freak storm on Monday is starting to melt. There are blossoms on trees that glisten with a light frost.
Two birds are chasing each other across my lawn, their bright red bellies stand out against the white snow.
Soon there will be  the sound of peeping baby birds when I walk past the wood shed. Damn, I am so happy I won’t have to haul wood on a daily basis 🙂
Spring is here, the time has changed and warmth will be here soon.

Think warm thoughts, friends!


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Sneak Preview: Dottie the Polar Bear

Edit* I just realized this is my 20th post!! Yaaay!! I am so happy to be writing again, and I am so glad that my 20th post was this preview of the Children’s Book 🙂

Off and on I have been working on a children’s book. My son loves it so much, he suggested I post a preview.
This is a very rough draft of the first part of this story. I would love feedback.

Dottie the Polar Bear Cub

Dottie the polar bear cub was completely content. She loved her home. Dottie loved climbing all the rocks. She loved climbing up to the highest point and jumping into the pool of water, making a big splash. Her mommy would get angry whenever Dottie climbed too high, but Dottie didn’t listen. It was too much fun!

Dottie also loved her blue ball. She would tackle it, jump on to it, and play catch with her daddy. She loved wrestling with her daddy and climbing on her mommy’s back.

Dottie loved feeding time too because visitors would come into her home. Dottie loved all the humans who came to play.  They usually had treats or toys. Sometimes they would poke and prod at Dottie, but the fishy treats she got afterwards for being a “good girl” always made her happy.
Her habitat also had a giant window. People would come visit, just so they could see Dottie, her mother said.

Dottie loved to make a big show for the people. Especially the little tiny humans that were her size. They wore things over their bodies that her mommy said were to keep them warm. The humans only had fur on their heads. Some of the daddy humans had hair on their faces and none on their heads. Dottie thought this was very silly.

She would walk up to the big window and make faces, throw her ball, splash the window and just be silly. Sometimes she asked the little humans to come play, but her mommy and daddy said they couldn’t come in.

One day, after Dottie had a big breakfast and lunch and a long swim she decided to walk past the window to see what humans had come to visit that day. She saw that there was no one looking in. This made Dottie sad. She decided that maybe she would go take a nap in the cave with daddy,  after all Dottie did have a big, busy morning!

Just then, Dottie heard a knock on the big window. She turned around to see a little human girl standing there, at the window, knocking. But there was something different about this girl. She had something on her paws, something bright and pink!

Dottie quickly ran across the habitat. She had to get a closer look!
Dottie walked right up to the little girl, placed her paws on the glass and called to her.

“Hey! Little human! What is that on your paws?”
The little girl giggled and called to her mommy. “Look Mommy, the baby polar bear likes me!”

Dottie knew that humans had a hard time speaking polar bear, so she tried again.

“Hey, little girl! What’s that on your paws? I like them!”
Dottie’s mother and father stuck there head out of the cave when they heard the commotion. Dottie’s mommy called to her.

“Dottie, come here! Stay away from the people!”
“No,” Dottie said.”Mommy, I want those! I want to see her paw covers!”

Dottie’s mommy came down from the cave. She circled Dottie to protect her from the crowd that was forming.

“Dottie, sweetie, you don’t need those. Humans don’t have fur or protective pads on their hands and feet. They need to wear those covers, or mittens, on their hands to protect from the cold.”

Dottie’s daddy came down from the cave.
“Dottie, you are a polar bear. We don’t wear clothes. Forget the mittens and come here, it’s nap time.”

Dottie’s mommy and daddy lead her back to the cave.
She laid down in between her mommy and daddy and started to doze. As she fell asleep, she mumbled “We’ll see about that!”

I would love some feedback!


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Bathrooms & Bare Bottoms

It’s an absolute FACT that as a parent, any time you have to use the bathroom, your child will have the sudden urge to pee the moment you sit on the toilet. Whether this effect is multiplied by the amount of children in your family, I have yet to experience. I am sure there are parents out there with 2 or more who wouldn’t mind chiming in in the comments.

One of the most exciting features in our new place was the addition of a second bathroom next to my son’s room.
G doesn’t use this bathroom though. He prefers my bathroom completely and was excited when the toilet upstairs was out of commission for a few months.

Last week my landlord fixed the bathroom, and I was so excited to have my bathroom back to myself!

The following happened moments ago.
I was washing my hands afterwards when the door opens, HARD, right into my side.
“OW! What the fudges?”
I try very hard not to swear, as my kiddo is at the age of dropping fowl language into everyday conversation. I am absolutely OK with using words to enhance your vocabulary and using swears correctly. Drop something super heavy on your foot or slam your hand in the car door? Go ahead and swear!
However lately G has been dropping Fucks and Shits in normal everyday conversation. Last night I took a picture of my little almost 10 year old sitting on the couch while I was completely lost in thoughts of how quickly he has grown when my kiddo decided to flip the camera the bird.
That behavior awarded him emptying and filling the dishwasher and unloading a stack of wood from the wheelbarrow himself.

“Sorry!” G said through the crack in the door, dancing around “I really have to pee!!”
Usually I would have opened the door and let him sneak by, but we have a perfectly good bathroom upstairs!
“We have a second bathroom!” I yelled.
“Oh, yeah!” G exclaimed running away.

I washed the soap bubbles from my hands and scrubbed my face.
I left the bathroom and entered the living room…. To see my son’s bare butt sticking through the sliding glass doors to the backyard.
G turned around and made eye contact with me, clearly busted.
“Don’t judge.” He said, pulled up his sweatpants and walked away.

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