Winston the Fierce

So I have a cow story. And no, it isn't bullshit. Har-de-har-har. One night, we laughed and laughed because Jessica came home one night and ran in the house exclaiming "There's a COW outside!!!" And sure enough, there WAS! Three of them in fact.

Fast forward to several days later, and I saw the cows directly across the street from us. So I took the dogs out to meet the mooing critters. Drambuie did some nose to snout introductions and neither animal thought much about the other but then Winston came onto the scene. The cow took one look at Winston and snorted sending cow snot flying everywhere and took off at a very brisk walk (in cow speak anyway) up the street heading back to her home (notice I said "her?" I may be a city girl but I do know the difference between a girl cow and a boy cow [thigh slap--get it? BOY COW?]).

Well, Winston apparently thought his stuff didn't stink, if you know what I mean, and he puffed out his big ol' Bulldog chest and went off (at a brisk BULLDOG walk) chasing the cow. We called him back, several times, and when he finally decided to return, he had a proud look in his eye and a little pep in his walk, or as peppy as a Bulldog can be.

This, for all you doubting Thomas' out there, is NORMAL for a bulldog. How do you think a Bulldog got his name? He actually used to fight bulls. Yes he did. Winston didn't. The biggest thing Winston has ever taken on would be um...well, perhaps Drambuie in between fierce bouts of sniffing flowers? But it's in his blood.

So we all went to bed knowing that should a cow ever decide a home invasion robbery at our house? We will be well protected with our little man Winson!

Women in General

Okay, I'm a woman. I believe in the power of the sisterhood and all that. But on the other hand, I have to say that women can be the coldest, bitchiest things EVER. I'm sitting here at a scrapbook weekend helping out my friend Dawn. First of all, should you be one of the women reading this thinking I'm talking about you? I'm not. Trust me. I'm talking about the other women. (That's called CMA.) So anyway, these women don't like plastic utensils and don't like the music and don't like the air conditioner and don't like the deserts and don't like the location and on and on. I've kept myself out of the mainstream because I felt like everything I said was a downer and I didn't want to bring other people down. I think sometimes you should do that. Some of these gals should take a lesson in that.

So this week, I will enjoy getting my life back to normal. I'm going to start running/walking tomorrow. Gonna try to start eating healthier and try to get my life back together. I honestly can hear Shirley in my head telling me to do exactly that. I know she'd be happy to know that I'm having such a hard time getting over her death...really, she would. Because she really did like that attention. But it's time now and she would say the same thing. So I'm listening.

One of the first things I want to work on is the garage. I really need to get in there and clean up the mess that has been created in there. I need to buy some bins and go through boxes and then either donate stuff or sell it in a garage sale. I need to do it. So that's my first *goal.* Stand by, we'll see how that goes.

This is inter-National (spelled and capitalized just like that) Scrapbook weekend. I remember when there was no such thing! And now, I believe that I'm sitting here watching the craft disappear as well. (I just realized I misplaced $10 somewhere around here and I have no clue where.)

Also, this is May 2nd. May already?!??!?!?!? YIKES!!!