Where I've Been, Part I: Abigail

Everyone, meet Abby.



Abby, meet everyone.



When my husband got laid off in May, after working 70-hour weeks for 14 years at the same company, we agreed that while he was home and looking for a job, it was also time to get the dog he had always wanted but that we didn't have time to train and incorporate into our cat-centric household. He looked at many different shelters for a couple of months, trying to find just the right dog that would grab our hearts.

Then in the beginning of July he saw this photo on the Wright-Way Rescue website.



Wright-Way finds abandoned and sheltered dogs and cats in downstate Illinois, and posts them on their site to be adopted in the more populated area around Chicago. Twice a week volunteers drive up to Chicago and have adoption days in the city at their building there. It's a great service, and the people there are really helpful and nice.

Anyway, at the time her name was Banana Cake, part of a 7-litter set all named after cakes: Pound Cake, Chocolate Cake, Spice Cake, Coffee Cake, Angel Cake, and Carrot Cake were her siblings, all with the colorings that inspired their names. We actually wanted Angel Cake, a white and orange colored pup, but she was already taken. They (allegedly) are spaniel-beagle mixes, and are expected to become medium-sized dogs about 25-30 pounds.

On July 5, we adopted her. She was eight weeks old and 4.5 pounds. She was frickin' adorable.


Cute but kind of grody. She needed a bath after life in the shelter!





She was so small we could bathe her in the kitchen sink. Look how tiny she is in my husband's hands!



Ah, much better. Her coat is glossy and soft, not matted.




She's still adorable, but she has grown like crazy, especially in the first month we had her. Our neighbors openly wonder what the heck we are feeding her. There are days when I come home and I can visibly see that she grew since I left that morning!







She's so pretty.













OMG she's only 4 months old!

Here's a great visual of her rapid growth. This is her first day home.



Literally 3 weeks later. Look at those legs!



She's 20 pounds as of yesterday, and at 4 months one she's not done yet. I think she is going to be much bigger than their estimate of 25-30 pounds.

We had a hard time coming up with her name; since we tend to give our pets slightly old-fashioned people names, we had to continue with that. Millicent and Maude were front-runners for a while, then I realized we were adopting her on Babyfriend's third birthday, and she had a lovely old-fashioned middle name: Abigail. So Abby/Abigail she became!

Emily and George have had very different reactions to her, and completely opposite of what I expected. Emily, the one who is scared of everything, hissed and got angry when she first saw Abby, but completely took control of their introduction and put the fear of God into Abby. Abby keeps her distance, and the two are slowly learning how to be in each other's presence.



George on the other hand, lost his alpha status the moment Abby saw him. She just jumped on him and tried to ride him like a pony, and despite his hissing and fighting back against her, George lost his dominant position in their relationship. We can't have them together in a room very much yet because Abby is all over him. We have a number of techniques we continue to try with them both, though. Mostly involving Abby being crated or on a leash around our poor old George.




My husband's caption when he texted this to me: "We're trying." Hee.

She is definitely my husband's dog, as he loves dogs unconditionally and he is home with her all day, training and spending time with her. But she loves cuddling on my lap too, and greets me with such joyous excitement when I come home, I can't help but love her too. I'm more of a cat person, but Miss Abby has stolen my heart.

But she is his dog, and has been since her first night when she fell asleep on his chest. She loves sleeping on him.









That said, getting a puppy at 8 weeks is a lot of work. There's housebreaking her, crate-training her, getting the cats used to her, giving her plenty of toys to chew on instead of our furniture and rugs, teaching her commands, and how to walk on the leash without going crazy, etc. When she is awake, one of us has to be watching her the whole time -- we don't have kids and have only had cats so far, so it took some getting used to that much responsibility for something other than ourselves.



But she's worth it. Look at her!!!





Anyway, that's one of the many reasons I've slacked off on posting. More on that to come. Right now I have to go play with my cute puppy.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who left notes and emails seeing where I was. I've been meaning to post for a while, but you guys definitely guilted me into finally doing it! :)

Thank you, Dad

Dear Dad,

Thank you for teaching me the importance of organization and planning. Every family vacation, every party, every tailgate, every shopping trip, Christmas card list, gift list, every errand ever run, has all been planned out and documented in your meticulous, tiny handwriting on a Dad Pad (TM me) somewhere. There were ones in the car, on the edge of the counter, in your pocket; we will be finding Dad Pads around the house for decades. But they worked; you never forgot to have handy anything we needed, and with three very different daughters and a (*cough* slightly disorganized) wife, that is an accomplishment indeed.  Now that I have a (*cough* slightly disorganized) spouse of my own, I have my own running lists scattered throughout the house, and even more at the office. I would be lost without them!



Thank you, Dad, for teaching me the value of networking. You would never call it that -- the concept is too cold and calculating, and that's not how you practice the art. Instead it's, "Hey, Kris, I know a guy..." and "A buddy of mine helped me out..." and "Do you remember Andy from Eastern Bag? Really great guy, known him for years. Anyway, he..."  Over the years, you built a vast web of work associates, tradespeople in town, people you met at conferences and golf tournaments and in bars, and you stay in touch and stay loyal to them, and in turn they stay loyal to you. It's a remarkable thing to watch and try to emulate; I wasn't very good at it when I was in my 20s and 30s, but I'm getting better at it now, especially at work.  The really remarkable thing about it though, Dad, is for you it is effortless; it's just the way you engage with people, helping them out and having them help you out, building relationships of trust and reciprocity everywhere you go. I'm still learning my way with that, but I have a great role model.

Thank you, Dad, for pushing me in school, and making sure I went to, literally, the best schools in the country. I knew and you knew that when I got an A- on my report card and you teased me about not getting an A that you weren't actually teasing; you showed me your report cards from when you were my age to show me what to strive for. You wanted me to succeed the way you had, to work hard and learn everything I could  -- and then best of all, when I proved I was smart enough and I worked hard enough to get into schools we couldn't afford, you and Mom made sure I could afford to go to them. We weren't rich, but I sure as hell got a rich education, and it has made a huge difference in my life.

(P.S. The only Bs I ever got in school were for penmanship and geography. I still have my report cards too. Why couldn't I have inherited your handwriting?!)





Thank you, Dad, for loving Mom the way you do. In photo after photo of the two of you over the last 40-plus years, you have the most dumb-struck look on your face, saying to all the world, "Can you believe what a catch I got?" I waited until I found a man who looked at me just like that, and I married him. Best thing I ever did.

Thank you, Dad, for being so smart, and passing that trait on to me. I'm smart the way you are -- we know how to solve puzzles, how to take ideas and processes apart and make them more efficient and organized. We can walk into a situation and immediately know how to break it down and re-build it better. We can't do it to engines or electronic equipment, and we're not really interested in philosophy or literature or art, but there isn't a method of doing something we don't itch to improve. I've seen you do it with packing the car for trips (I am also an ace at that one), in countless board games (but you still beat me, dammit!), in building and decorating your house and your gardens, in the way you broke down the boat every winter, in the way you organized all those parties and tailgates, in everything. It's the trait I am most known for at work, and I owe that completely to you.

Thank you, Dad, for speaking frankly to me about money. We didn't talk about it much when I was younger, but I watched you create a routine for paying the bills, and I had a fair idea of where we ranked on the economic scale. As an adult, though, you've taken the time to talk to me about retirement and savings, not only explaining how you manage it for you and Mom, but given me advice on what I should be doing for me and my spouse. As I am the financial planner in my marriage -- like you are in yours -- this has helped me in so many ways. Please keep doing this.



Thank you, Dad, for being the only white-collar management professional I knew growing up. Our neighborhood and family had so many examples of hard-working people, of teachers and real estate agents and coaches and nurses and telephone lineman and small-business accountants and firemen and machinists and bank tellers. You were the only one I knew who wore a suit every day, and had an office and a secretary and employees. I thought you had the coolest job in the world; you got to be The Boss. Does it really surprise you I wanted to follow in your footsteps? I may not be a boss now, but I do have a desk and a suit, and I love what I do. Thank you for showing me that was a career path.



(You still look good in a suit, too!)

Thank you, Dad, for your sense of humor. You are never afraid to be self-deprecating, and you find amusement in ordinary things, like I do. Your chuckle when I tell you a funny story is one of my favorite sounds. Also, you are a giant goof.




When I was a kid, I wanted to be just like you. Turns out, I pretty much am. Thank you for that.

I love you,
Kristen

P.S. Happy Father's Day.

Thank you, Easter Bunny. Bawk bawk!

Happy Easter, everyone!

When we were kids, the Easter Bunny didn't hide our baskets in the traditional way. Instead, she left notes for each of us, with corny little poems giving us clues to the hiding place. Naturally, that hiding place only had another note, sending us on a treasure hunt of three or four spots until we found our baskets.

The best part was that we each had our own trail of clues, including my dad. My sisters and I would run around the house, yelling and trying to figure out what the heck that stupid clue meant; sometimes, when the clue turned out to be a little too vague, my mom would discreetly step in and say, "Hmmm, gee, I wonder if the Easter Bunny meant to suggest...the dryer?" Hee.

And my dad would pretend he was too cool to engage, but he found his basket all the same. Nothing would keep my dad from his chocolate, but he had to tease us all too. So he would read the clue, then the newspaper while he sipped his coffee. Eventually -- stretching it out just enough to torture us -- he would get up and go get his next clue, then sit back down with his coffee to torture us some more.

It was a really great tradition, one that has stayed in my memories all my life.

Thank you, Mom.

I mean, thank you, Easter Bunny. :)

Photo Spam

I take a LOT of photos -- not just of my outfits and food, but things that amuse me, or that I find pretty, or just something I want to capture in the moment. Before LFD, I had a photography blog called Kudzuplanet, where for several years I posted a picture of the day. That is defunct now, but I still find myself with a backlog of photos that I want to share, and sometimes I have neither the time nor the inclination to incorporate them prettily in a post. So one of my new irregular features -- as a way to keep me on a regular posting schedule will a Photo Spam, of all the shots I want to share but ran out of time in other posts to do so.



The logo on the hotpads and apron from my mother-in-law. Ha!



Barbie for President!



My dad was very excited to see these in his Christmas stocking. Baffling, isn't it?



My nephew let me put bows on him. We're now texting buddies.



I really love my mom's tree. All the white and silver ornaments are so pretty.



I loved the way Hubby wore browns and maroons together.



Some shots of downtown Middletown while we were visiting Connecticut.







The inn we stayed at was so pretty.





A sign on the employee break room door at Best Buy.  I think it is my new motto.



Teehee.



What I wore on NYE. The new jacket is a Christmas gift from my mom. Love it.





I love wine, too. ;-D