Jeff and Suzie

Less than 24 hours after getting in from his last run, hubby is back out on the road. Tired and exhausted after a long week, I hated that he was unable to spend more than a night at home. On the bright side, a 3 day weekend coming up and we’re planning a trip to the mountains with the furbabies. Hubby is well aware that I need the mountains to restore my soul every so often.


Hubby was at least able to sleep in this morning. I kept the dogs locked out of the bedroom and giggled as Suzie “stalked” Zeke around the corners of the kitchen. She’s a fearsome hunter, our Suzie. Slowly she inches until she’s in pounce range, then with a growl that can freeze mortal hearts, she leaps. During the stalking process, Zeke is peeking around the corner at her and giving me a grin, as if to say, “Look… she think’s she’s scaring me!”. 


from ThunderTigers_1:


1. Take off clothing and place it in sectioned laundry hamper according to lights and darks..

2. Walk to bathroom wearing long dressing gown. If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.

3. Look at your womanly physique in the mirror, make mental note to do : more sit-ups/leg-lifts, etc.

4. Get in the shower.

5. Use face cloth, arm cloth, leg cloth, long loofah, wide loofah and pumice stone.

6. Wash your hair once with cucumber and sage shampoo with 43 added vitamins.

7. Wash your hair again to make sure it’s clean.

8. Condition your hair with grapefruit mint conditioner.

9. Wash your face with crushed apricot facial scrub for 10 minutes until red.

10. Wash entire rest of body with ginger nut and jaffa cake body wash.

11. Rinse conditioner off hair.

12. Turn off shower.

13.. Squeegee off all wet surfaces in shower. Spray mold spots with Tilex.

14. Get out of shower.

15. Dry with towel the size of a small country. Wrap hair in super absorbent towel.

16. Return to bedroom wearing long dressing gown and towel on head.

17. If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.


1. Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed and leave them in a pile.

2. Walk naked to the bathroom.

3. If you see wife along the way, shake wiener at her while making the woo-woo sound.

4. Look at your manly physique in the mirror. Admire the size of your wiener and scratch your butt.

5. Get in the shower.

6. Wash your face.

7. Wash your armpits.

8. Blow your nose in your hands and let the water rinse the snot off.

9. Fart and laugh at how loud it sounds in the shower.

10. Spend majority of time washing privates and surrounding area.

11. Wash your butt, leaving those coarse butt hairs stuck on the soap.

12. Wash your hair. Make a shampoo Mohawk.

13. Pee.

14. Rinse off and get out of shower.

15. Partially dry off – Fail to notice water on floor because curtain was hanging out of tub the whole time.

16. Admire wiener size in mirror again.

17. Leave shower curtain open, wet mat on floor, light and fan on.

18. Return to bedroom with towel around waist.

19. If you pass wife, pull off towel, shake wiener at her and make the woo-woo sound again.

20. Throw wet towel on her pillow.

I hope you are enjoying Anita Baker and her sweet soul music. Apparently I’m having a flux in hormones and need her music to sooth me… or a shot of tequila.
Blessings! Glo



It’s 8:18 am. I’ve been up since 4:30, awaken by Suzie for an early potty run, the norm whenever Daddy’s home. After returning from our little outing, I crawled back into bed. As I lay there trying to go back to sleep, I listened to Suzie as she chewed a toy (scrunch, squeak, scrunch). Then she farted…

The smell was so horrible; I got up and grabbed my flashlight looking to see if she’d had an unfortunate accident. Night shirt over my nose and eyes tearing, I carefully checked the room. Jeff was softly snoring – he can sleep through anything.

I gave up trying to go back to sleep and quietly cracked a window, then opened the balcony door. What in the world had she eaten when I wasn’t looking – 3 day old road kill? I put on a pot of coffee, figuring that between that and the opened window and door; Suzie’s perfume would be masked.

Suzie has been a world class farter from the day she came to live with us. She can clear a room faster than you can say, “What’s that smell?!” I must give her credit though, she’s almost never SBD (silent but deadly). She really let’s em’ rip and isn’t even lady-like enough to jerk her head around and look behind herself – “Huh? What was that?!”

Have I ever mentioned that she’s also a world class burper? Do you remember when you were a kid, seeing little boys having belching contests? She can put them to shame. I’ve decided she isn’t really a dog – she’s a furry gas bag that leaks at both ends.

And don’t even get me started on what she does if she gets too excited or freaked out. Let’s just say that she’ll never have to have a vet express her anal glands manually.

Blessings… Glo



The name leprechaun may have derived from the Irish leath leprechauns bhrogan (shoemaker), although its origins may lie in luacharma’n (Irish for pygmy). These apparently aged, diminutive men are frequently to be found in an intoxicated state, caused by home-brew poteen. However they never become so drunk that the hand which holds the hammer becomes unsteady and their shoemaker’s work affected.

 Leprechauns have also become self-appointed guardians of ancient treasure (left by the Danes when they marauded through Ireland), burying it in crocks or pots. This may be one reason why leprechauns tend to avoid contact with humans whom they regard as foolish, flighty (and greedy?) creatures. If caught by a mortal, he will promise great wealth if allowed to go free. He carries two leather pouches. In one there is a silver shilling, a magical coin that returns to the purse each time it is paid out. In the other he carries a gold coin which he uses to try and bribe his way out of difficult situations. This coin usually turns to leaves or ashes once the leprechaun has parted with it. However, you must never take your eye off him, for he can vanish in an instant. The leprechaun ‘family’ appears split into two distinct groups – leprechaun and cluricaun. Cluricauns may steal or borrow almost anything, creating mayhem in houses during the hours of darkness, raiding wine cellars and larders. They will also harness sheep, goats, dogs and even domestic fowl and ride them throughout the country at night.  Although the leprechaun has been described as Ireland’s national fairy, this name was originally only used in the north Leinster area. Variants include lurachmain, lurican, lurgadhan.   

Examples of tales involving leprechauns:

A farmer or young lad captures a leprechaun and forces him to reveal the location of his buried treasure. The leprechaun assures him that the treasure is buried in an open field beneath a particular ragwort plant. The farmer ties a red ribbon to the plant, first extracting a promise from the leprechaun not to remove the ribbon. Releasing the leprechaun, he leaves to get a shovel. Upon his return he finds that every weed in the field has been tied with an identical red ribbon, thus making it impossible to find the treasure. In another story, a young girl finds a leprechaun and bids him show her the location of his buried money. She takes him up in her hand and sets out to find the treasure, but all of a sudden she hears a loud buzzing behind her. The leprechaun shouts at her that she is being chased by a swarm of bees, but when she looks around there are no bees and the leprechaun has vanished. 

In other stories they are told of riding shepherds’ dogs through the night, leaving the dogs exhausted and dirty in the morning. It is said that at the end of a rainbow, you may find a leprechaun and his treasured pot of gold.




Has anyone else noticed that when you (I’m speaking to the women out here), are in10 the dumps, that nearly all the other women are too? Is that weird or what? Or maybe, I’m just weird. Anyone else notice?… (“No, Glo, it’s just you!”). Just a passing thought.

For years, I’ve been called Glo. Not Gloria, just Glo. Gloworm or Globug to my close friends. I’ve encouraged it. I hate my name and each time I hear it spoken aloud, I cringe. I can still hear my mother’s voice clear as day… “Glor ri ah“, as she called me home. My friends use to tease me about it and learned to mimic my mother perfectly, “GLOR RI AH… time to come home!”.

1 School was horrible; I was the geeky kid in thick glasses & brown, lace up corrective shoes. If you look under the word “ugly” in the dictionary, I believe my picture is still there.

None of my friends from the neighborhood were in my class. Not one, which meant I spent as much time as possible trying to be invisable. Books were my friends and took me on great adventures… where no one teased me for being different. Between books and my dogs, I was never lonely.

High school changed things. The thick glasses were gone and I no longer had to wear the ugly corrective shoes. I had a 5 couple of great friends who did drugs with me on a regular basis. Doing drugs made me a different person. I wasn’t shy and I always had a good time. Of course, the party ended after high school and I got clean/sober by the time I turned 18.

I was a mommy and twice divorced by the age of 23. I wasn’t marriage material and found I was most happy when I lived alone.

I will have been married for 2 years this coming September. A record breaker. After all these years, I have discovered  that being alone may be more 531a04ba9bcc7ad10e16d7f9027e8ff9comfortable, but you miss too much. I’m glad to be where I am; sharing life with someone who “gets” me.

Blessings… Glo


Denver Government Schools decided that its talented and gifted program wasn’t diverse enough. So in order to “correct” this problem, it has decided to give minority and poor students extra credit in order to qualify them as highly gifted. Yes … you heard me right. Since there aren’t enough minority and poor students in the gifted programs, the government is just, by God, going to declare some minority and poor students as gifted anyway .. and then shove them right into the gifted program.

In a district that is mostly Latino, the gifted program drew mostly white students. The program used to rely on oral tests to measure the student’s reasoning and IQ. But some educators complained that these tests are biased against students who didn’t learn English as their first language and poor students who haven’t had “the same life experiences as their richer peers.”

So what does the program look like now? Under the new system, extra credit is given to children who are “economically disadvantaged,” which is often measured by whether or not the student receives federal meal benefits. Getting a taxpayer funded lunch at school makes you dumb. Extra credit is also given to students if English is their second language. And rather than relying on “biased” reasoning and IQ tests, the district now uses a composite score of the child’s cognitive tests, annual assessments, reading tests and teacher nominations. And it gets even better. Next year, the district will be considering artwork.

So before the changes, only 3% of students fit the highly gifted classification based on cognitive tests. I guess we could safely assume that students scoring somewhere in the 90th percentile would be admitted. In the new and improved system, students scoring as low as the 75th percentile on these cognitive tests would be considered, if they also demonstrated that they could paint a pretty picture of a rainbow, a flower or Che Guevara.


The whole scheme is nothing more than a feel good “everybody is a winner” attitude … this is why we are creating a nation of pussies and candyasses who can’t tell you the difference between a profit and a profit margin. So now in Colorado at what is supposed to be, the highest level of government education, we can only teach to the lowest common denominator including people who might not even be able to speak proper English!

Who’s really to blame here? Let’s address the parents of these truly gifted students. They should be making every necessary sacrifice to get their children the hell out of these hideous government indoctrination machines and into a private education facility where they can make the most of their talents. When all is said and done, the true blame for these children not reaching their full potential will rest on the parents and the teachers unions who turned them over to the government to be educated.

Your thoughts?

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If I hold the camera tightly against my eye, I can still take a couple of recognizable pictures! Of course, I have to hope that nothing moves before I click since I have blinded myself, but true art is worth the sacrifice!


Not a great pic, but at least I can tell it’s my neighbor & his dog in the woods behind the apt.


Zeke and Suzie at play… actually, Zeke looking disgusted while Suzie attempts to get his interest by biting his paw.


 Zeke giving Suzie the “look”.


Suzie coming in from the balcony


 Zeke yawning at yet another attempt by Suzie….


Zeke on his way out, Suzie on her way in. 


Zeke watching Suzie watch the neighbors


Suzie snuffing up birdseed.


Zeke and Suzie watching the neighbors.

My honey should be coming in tonight and I’m hoping he’ll have a long weekend at home. We’ve missed him.

Blessings! Glo

My own personal predajust against the Baptist church is pretty well known and try as I might, it rears it’s ugly head from time to time. I really thought that I’d gotten to the live and let live stage… I was wrong.

Since becoming an adult, I’ve spent my life outside organized religion. When I went to work for the Catholic Diocese, I came to love the priests, nuns and the other women I worked with. I was their token non-Catholic and they took great pleasure in rubbing it in at times. I learned a lot from them during my years there. Never once did anyone tell me I was going to hell because I wasn’t Catholic – or condemn me for anything else for that matter. While the Baptist church focused on sin, hate and the wrath of God, the Catholics I knew focused on the love from God and service to their fellow man. They quietly lived their faith.

The Catholic Church has done a lot wrong….  but it’s also done a lot right. There isn’t one religion that doesn’t contain it’s share of murderers, pedophiles, etc., etc., etc. Look at Oral Roberts, The Bakers, the Moral Majority … Power corrupts and when it does, God has nothing to do with it.

I don’t believe for one minute that God cares if you’re Catholic, Baptist or whatever. I think the only thing that matters is your faith in the God of your understanding and living your life to the best of your God given ability.

And to all my Baptists friends….no offense meant to you personally… you probably attend at wonderful church and I’m glad your experiences are more positive than mine were.

To all others I may have offended and who wish to kill me in the name of the Lord… get in line.

Ok… off the soap box and moving on to the lighter side of religion, I give you my favorite minister….

will b dunn Rev. Will B. Dunn
Age: Younger than Methuselah
Headline: “Take my congregation…PLEASE!”
Personal History: For this simple country preacher, there’s no business like soul business – and Rev. Will B. Dunn is quite the entrepreneur.
The eccentric minister, Rev. Dunn leaves his congregation confused and amused with his forthright criticism and his modern interpretations of the Bible. But for all his quirks, the Rev. ‘s kind heart shines through as he attempts to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted and maybe save a few souls in the process. For example, he installed a teakwood deck around the baptismal pool to boost attendance at services; launched a cable access television program; and writes a weekly spiritual guidance column for the newspaper that dishes out the most caustic – yet honest – advice ever printed. But his truest observations on life he saves for Kudzu, a local teenager whose indomitable spirit helps the minister in ways the young man can never fully appreciate.
Place of Residence: The parsonage in the sleepy town of Bypass, N.C.
Personality Traits: Quirky, sarcastic and straightforward — everything a stereotypical minister is not.



Sleep Position Reveals Personality

2 The position in which you sleep at night–whether it’s all curled up in a fetal position or sprawled out across the bed–reveals your personality.

That’s the word from Chris Idzikowski, director of the Sleep Assessment and Advisory Service. After spending years analyzing six common sleeping positions, he has concluded that each is linked to a particular personality type. “We are all aware of our body language when we are awake, but this is the first time we have been able to see what our subconscious posture says about us,” Idzikowski told the BBC News. “What’s interesting is that the profile behind the posture is often very different from what we would expect.”

Sleep Position No. 1: The Fetal (41 percent)
People who sleep this way, which is the most common way to sleep, are described as tough on the outside, but sensitive on the inside. Often shy when they first meet someone, people who sleep like this soon relax. Twice as many women as men sleep in the fetal position.

Sleep Position No. 2: The Log (15 percent)
People who sleep this way lie on their side with both arms down, close to their side. They tend to be social and easy-going people who enjoy being part of the in-crowd. While they are trusting of strangers, they are often gullible.

Sleep Position No. 3: The Yearner (13 percent)
Sleeping on your side with both arms stretched out in front of you describes the yearner’s sleep position. While they have an open nature, they can be suspicious and even cynical. Such people are slow to make up their mind, but once a decision has been made, they are unlikely to ever change it.

Sleep Position No. 4: The Soldier (8 percent)
Lying flat on the back with both arms pinned at the side is the sleep position of the soldier. People who sleep this way are quiet and reserved. They don’t like a fuss and set themselves and others to high standards. People who sleep like this are more likely to snore and have a bad night’s sleep.

Sleep Position No. 5: The Freefall (7 percent)
People who sleep this way lie on their tummy with their hands at the sides of their head. While they tend to be brash and gregarious on the surface, they are nervy and thin-skinned underneath. They don’t like criticism or extreme situations. This sleep position is good for digestion.

Sleep Position No. 6: The Starfish (5 percent)
People in the starfish position sleep on their back with both arms up around the pillow. Because they are always ready to listen to others and offer help when needed, they make the best of friends; however, they generally don’t like to be the center of attention. People who sleep like this are more likely to snore and have a bad night’s sleep, just like the soldier position.

The remaining 11 percent in this study either said they slept in a variety of positions or just didn’t know how they slept. Once you have a preferred position, you’re unlikely to change it from night-to-night.

I fall in the 41% percentile, the fetal; my hubby is in the 15% – the Log, and while I almost never change position, hubby flops back and fourth all night. Hubby also sleeps longer and more deeply than I do… and he & I have both awakened talking to each other in our sleep. So far, I am the only one who has awakened us both laughing out loud.

The dogs, use to my nighttime mutters, wails and moans ignore me… when they’re not shoving me off the edge for more room.



More and more of you are changing your pages to a permanent protected status, which confounds me. There are so many of you I would not have had the pleasure of reading and getting to know if either of our postings had been protected. So many friends lost!

One of my greatest pleasures on Xanga is the exchange of thoughts and opinions. The sharing of hopes, dreams and the day to day of just living. Your posts make my life richer and give me pause to consider new ideas and ways of looking at the world. Agree or disagree… it’s the exchange that gets the juices flowing!

Being the catty woman I am, I look forward to the nasty, vulgar comment. Simply writing a note of sympathy to the commenter on their lack of intelligence, decency and breeding, then blocking them… (there shall be great a wailing and gnashing of teeth!), gives me the last word. And who doesn’t appreciate having the last word? Meow… purrr!

Of course, dear friend, these are just my thoughts. As long as I’m on your list, we’re both happy.


Top 10 Peeves Dogs Have With Humans

1. Blaming your farts on me….. not funny… not funny at all!

2. Yelling at me for barking. I’M A FRIGGIN’ DOG

3. Taking me for a walk, then not letting me check stuff out. Exactly whose walk is this anyway?

4. Any trick that involves balancing food on my nose. Stop it!

5. Any haircut that involves bows or ribbons. Now you know why we chew your stuff up when you’re not home.

6. The sleight of hand, fake fetch throw. You fooled a dog! Whoooo oooooooo what a proud moment for the top of the food chain.

7. Taking me to the vet for “the big snip”, then acting surprised when I freak out every time we go back!

8. Getting upset when I sniff the crotches of your guests. Sorry, but I haven’t quite mastered that handshake thing yet.

9. Dog sweaters. Hello ??? Haven’t you noticed the fur?

10. How you act disgusted when I lick myself. Look, we both know the truth. You’re just jealous.

I know that I am guilty of # 3 – Taking them for a walk, then not letting them check stuff out.

Let’s all work this week on avoiding doing these things that annoy our beloved dogs.


Our beautiful weather has turned into a torrential downpour over night. During our noon walk, with the wind untitled blowing rain in my face from every direction, I began dreaming of a yellow rain slicker with the cool hat and big, rubber boots. You know, like the Gordon Fisherman wears? Instead, my non-water proof boots and jacket are both drying by the door.

Zeke, being the delicate flower and sensitive soul he is, detests getting his tootsies wet. He grumbled through the walk and finally did his necessary. You could see the look of disgust on his face at the indignity of it all. Suzie, my goofball, thought it was all too wonderful… ‘Look… there’s a deeper puddle right over there! Let’s go!”. SPLASH! Thirty minutes later… whine, moan. Momma, I was having too much fun and forgot I had to poop… can we go back out? ARG!


My darling hubby is on his way home and should be here just about the time all the rain is over… growl… and it’s time for their evening constitutional. Of course, we shall all be transported with joy when we see his smiling face as he walks through the door. Zeke and Suzie are just a bit more impassioned in their display than I am. I should be able to get my hug and kiss within an hour or so.


My little princess, Suzie is tired and wanting her afternoon nap. Since she must be stroked and cuddled to get to sleep, she is busy clawing my leg and whining up at me. She slowly slouches away, head down, but still waving her silken plume of a tail to wait for me on the bed.

Hoping that all of you have a wonderful weekend!

Blessings… Glo