The following is a list of lies that we have told our son over the past 5 1/2 years (that he still believes):

• Giraffes don’t bark or whinny. They say “Hey Steve!”
• The yellow bubble bath and the water in the fountain are both poisonous. Don’t drink from either source.
• Your mom can talk to cats, dogs and sometimes the animals at the zoo.
• Santa Claus won’t bring you presents next year if you leave your Christmas tree and/or lights up past January 6th.
• You were born with hooves.
• Yes, some rats, like the one in the Wind in the Willows, are nice. But the rat that lives outside in the ivy shrub gave me the finger the other day and then said something very rude which is why we are rooting for Back Yard Cat to come and eat him.
• Of course Willy Wonka exists, that’s a Wonka Chocolate bar you’re eating, isn’t it?
• Your father built all the power substations, ever.
• We have no idea where the Hot Wheels Shark game went.
• Stuffed Cthulu is a kind and benevolent monster (not some kind of elder one that will consume your mind) who watches over you while you sleep and scares away all the other monsters.
• There is no upper deck on the Keystone ferry so we cannot get out of the car. All those people you see going up stairs are going to be pretty darned disappointed!

The following is a list of truths we have told our son over the past 5 1/2 years (that he still has trouble believing):

• When you are old enough to live by yourself you can watch “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” but, until then, you cannot watch it because it’s a terrible movie.
• Real men know how to cook.
• You cannot swear because mommy and daddy will get into trouble.
• No one really likes jawbreakers.
• We don’t let the cats out because they are too stupid to go outside.
• When you’re older I will teach you how to make beer. By that time, I promise, it will be much more exciting.
• No one really likes cucumbers either. Those people that tell you they like them are lying.
• Girls don’t really like it when you make that noise.

It's cool, he's only here to eat Casper. Just ignore him.

The following are some of the more poignient and thought-provoking pieces of U.S. District Court Judge Vaughn Walker’s final ruling on the legality of California’s Proposition 8:

“The state does not have an interest in enforcing private moral or religious beliefs without an accompanying secular purpose.”
p.8 -clarification

“…Most people are able to answer questions about their sexual orientation without formal training.”
p.20 -response to challenge of whether people can be categorized on their own sexual orientation

“An initiative measure adopted by the voters deserves great respect. The considered views and opinions of even the most highly qualified scholars and experts seldom outweigh the determinations of the voters. When challenged, however, the voters’ determinations must find at least some support in evidence. This is especially so when those determinations enact into law classifications of persons.
Conjecture, speculation and fears are not enough. Still less will the moral disapprobation of a group or class of citizens suffice, no matter how large the majority that shares that view.”
p.24 -summary of trial proceedings and summary of testimony.

“Miller agreed that a principle of political science holds that it is undesirable for a religious majority to impose its religious views on a minority”
p.52 -Credibility determination of defense witness Kenneth P Miller.

“Marriage in the United States has always been a civil matter. Civil authorities may permit religious leaders to solemnize marriages but not to determine who may enter or leave a civil marriage. Religious leaders may determine independently whether to recognize a civil marriage or divorce but that recognition or lack thereof has no effect on the relationship under state law.”
p.60 –item 19 under Findings of Fact

“California, like every other state, has never required that individuals entering a marriage be willing or able to procreate.”
p.60 -item 21 under Findings of Fact

“Individuals do not generally choose their sexual orientation. No credible evidence supports a finding that an individual may, through conscious decision, therapeutic intervention or any other method, change his or her sexual orientation.”
p.74 –item 46 under Findings of Fact.

“Marrying a person of the opposite sex is an unrealistic option for gay and lesbian individuals”
p.79 –item 51 under Findings of Fact

“The Proposition 8 campaign relied on fears that children exposed to the concept of same-sex marriage may become gay or lesbian. The reason children need to be protected from same-sex marriage was never articulated in official campaign advertisements. Nevertheless, the advertisements insinuated that learning about same-sex marriage could make a child gay or lesbian and that parents should read having a gay or lesbian child.”
p.105 –item 79 under Findings of Fact

“Due process protects individuals against arbitrary governmental intrusion into life, liberty or property.”
p109 – explanation of due process under Conclusions of Law

“Race restrictions of marital partners were once common in most states but are now seen as archaic, shameful or even bizarre. When the Supreme Court invalidated race restrictions …the definition of the right to marry did not change. Instead the Court recognized that race restrictions, despite their historical prevalence, stood in stark contrast to the concepts of liberty and choice inherent in the right to marry.”
p.112 –under Conclusions of Law

“fundamental rights may not be submitted to [a] vote; they depend on the outcome of no elections.” West Virginia State Board of Education v Barnette, 1943
p.116 -under Conclusions of Law

“Proposition 8 cannot withstand any level of scrutiny under the Equal Protection Clause, as excluding same-sex couples from marriage is simply not rationally related to a legitimate state interest.”
p.124 -under Conclusions of Law

“Moreover, the state cannot have an interest in disadvantaging an unpopular minority group simple because the group is unpopular.”
p-125 –under Conclusions of Law

“Moreover, Proposition 8 has nothing to do with children, as Proposition 8 simply prevents same-sex couples from marrying.”
p-127 –under Conclusions of Law

“To the extent proponents argue that one of the rights of those morally opposed to the same-sex unions is the right to prevent same-sex couples from marrying, as explained presently those individuals’ moral views are an insufficient basis upon which to enact a legislative classification.”
p.128 –under Conclusions of Law

“Proposition 8 fails to advance any rational basis in singling out gay men and lesbians for denial of a marriage license. Indeed, the evidence shows Proposition 8 does nothing more than enshrine in the California Constitution the notion that opposite-sex couples are superior to same-sex couples. Because California has no interest in discriminating against gay men and lesbians, and because Proposition 8 prevents California from fulfilling its constitutional obligation to provide marriages on an equal basis, the court concludes that Proposition 8 is unconstitutional.”
p.137 -Conclusion

“IT IS SO ORDERED.”
p.138

Well said, Your Honor. Well said.

Okay, to be fair, I didn’t actually watch this entire movie.

What happened was this:

We went camping this weekend. Or rather, we tried to go camping. But in the act of getting our family out to the Olympic Peninsula on the weekend of a National Holiday (our very most important one if you are very nationalistic) my husband and I decided to divide and conquer.

Having this week off from Montessori…

(worst parental week ever BTW. I love my kids but apparently, not enough to want to stay home with them 24-7. Or even 24-3 as was my case)

…the kids and I left early.

The plan was for us to head out to Meme’s house  (read:May-may) on Thursday morning. This, it turned out, was a perfect plan because A)Meme lives out on the Olympic Peninsula; B) I got a little extra help wrangling my precious little evil snowflakes and C) we literally drove right on to a ferry thus avoiding the obligatory 4-hour ferry line that always accompanies a national holiday weekend.

Also, we never actually went camping.

Because it rained. A lot.

After the Memorial Day Camping Deluge of 2010 (Bring your own Ark!) I enacted the rule that goes like this:

If it is still raining by noon on the day of the camping trip, we are not going camping.

I love the outdoors and all but being stuck in a tent with two squirming, squealing, squelching children for three days is no one’s idea of fun.

In all actuality, it was nice and bright and sunny outside when I called the park ranger to cancel our reservations but I knew what was coming. Oh, I knew. It hasn’t NOT rained on us all season so I figured hell – if Meme is willing, we’ll just stay at her house for the weekend and pretend like we were camping. Since she lives on several acres of awesome, the kids didn’t mind (I checked.)

On Friday afternoon I hauled ass down to the Bainbridge Island Ferry terminal to pick up my husband. He walked on the ferry after work  and we neatly avoided all the ferry traffic.

It was a cunning plan.

For dinner that evening Brian and I had some burgers. Catfish had three glasses of sugared-up crack and some macaroni while the youngest ate two tablespoons of catchup and a balloon (I’m so not kidding about that.)

It was all good fun.

So there’s a Hollywood Video in Poulsbo. Did you know that the Hollywood Video chain is going out of business? Brian did.  Naturally, we had to stop at the Hollywood video and check out their selection of movies that were on deep going-out-of-business discount. For two people that originally met in a movie store, it was a jolly good time!

We ended up buying fourteen (fifteen?) movies. Or at least I think that was the final tally. I lost count after chasing down a joyously screaming 2 year old intent on purchasing the Barbie rendition of  Thumbelina and Alex Merkin’s Across the Hall. I’ll let you guess which one we brought home.

The Catfish was very serious and intent in his choice. He looked over every movie twice, asking appropriate questions when necessary (But, do the bad guys get caught? Do they go to jail? Is this a… girl movie?) until finally selecting a movie neither his father nor I had ever heard of, entitled The Secret of Loch Ness. As far as movie covers appealing to five year old boys go, this one had a bit of promise:

I mean, there's a friggin' MAGICAL DINOSAUR on the cover.

Well, well, well. I am here to tell you that someone has a LOT to answer for this evening.Yes, I’m looking at YOU Germany.

(Ummmm….this is probably gonna contain a few spoilers.)

THIS exciting looking movie is, in fact, a German made-for-TV movie set in Loch Ness but aparently filmed in Austria. That’s cool. The scenery was very pretty.

However, least you be fooled let me set you straight:

This is not, I REPEAT, this is NOT a movie about the Loch Ness Monster.

I know, I know – I thought it was too. I mean, Nessie is RIGHT THERE ON THE COVER and all. But sadly no, it is not about magical Scottish dinosaur monsters at all. Well, maybe a little bit.

You see, there’s a guy and he’s looking for the Loch Ness monster. And then there’s a kid and he’s watching TV or something. I can’t really be sure because I missed the first fifteen minutes of the movie which, apparently, is the most important part because without knowing the set-up, you can only guess as to why the little kid wants to find his dad that his mom told him was dead but who is clearly looking for Nessie because he’s being interviewed on German television. And something something something about a crazy grandpa.

So the kid, Tim, thinks he’s being sly by telling his mom that he’s going over to a friend’s lake house but in reality is getting on a plane to Scottland to find his not-really-dead father who, PS and by the Way, has no idea of little Timmy’s existence.

But the crazy grandpa lets him go and lots of corny things happen involving a mysterious cab driver (who looks exactly like the guy that interviewed the not-dead father on German TV)

You with me so far?  Good. Because now comes one of three scenes that actually include Nessie as a sort-of character. Tim, the kid, follows Dr. Erik Winter (his not-dead father who had no idea he is Tim’s not-dead father, even though the have the same mole on their hands *GASP*) onto a boat and out on the lake. There the boat gets bumped by…yep, NESSIE! And then Tim falls in the water and is presumed drowned.

Meanwhile, back in Germany…

Tim’s mom Anna finds out that Crazy Grandpa let Tim go to Scotland in search of his not-dead father (and the great love of her life.) She gives crazy-grandpa a stern look and high-tails it to Inverness.

Or tries to…

*cue maniacal laughter*

The same mysterious cab driver picks her up at the airport and deliberately gets her lost in the Austrian..er…ah…Scottish countryside. We can only assume it’s so that he can be sure little Timmy is well and truly dead before they get there.

BUT LITTLE TIMMY ISN’T DEAD! Oh thank GOD!

Nope, he’s rescued from drowning by a knock-off Gollum CGI character named Oakie. And when I say knock-off, I mean to say that they used the same exact facial structure as Gollum. At one point Tim actually asks him if he’s a Hobbit. He’s not. He’s a druid. Because that makes so much more sense.

Anyway, somehow Oakie decides to give Tim a gift and hands him a bracelet that is a brazillion years old and worth an unspecified amount of untold riches that we could never guess but let’s just say that it’s a LOT. Got it? Do you want me to spell it out for you some more? Because I can, if you like.

Of course there are bad guys in camp. At first they plan to find Nessie (before Dr. Erik Winter), steal him away and sell him to a Japanese business man that has promised to pay top dollar for Loch Nesshimi. But when little Timmy is found (the..ah…druid walked him back to camp) with the valuable bracelet, the evil-doers slyly steal the precious bracelet (IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY) and then decide to change their nefarious plans from dead monster meat to the druid jewelry business.

Herein lies the first time my son spots a mistake in continuity.

For the record let me just restate that he is FIVE years old. Movies with ice-age dinosaurs, monsters with removable eyes, and a universe of talking cars all make sense to him. What does NOT make sense is why these bad people are allowed to steal this kid’s valuable bracelet and then NEVER GIVE IT BACK. EVER. EVEN UNTIL THE END OF THE MOVIE.

Jerks.

But they don’t and I have to explain that A) those people are mean and B) this is a terrible movie. He is now on board with me because there is altogether too much C) talking about relationships in this supposedly kid-friendly movie.

Oh, I forgot to tell you that the mom finally caught up with Dr. Erik Winter and now they are together trying to find little Timmy who has gone off with the Oakie the pseudo-druid to save a magical rock from the evil-doers. But really they (mom and not-dead dad) are just arguing about why they broke up 12 years ago and which one of them is a bigger idiot (I’m paraphrasing.) Plus, there’s a bad guy with a gun.

The story jumps back and forth between the parental argu*yawn*ment and little Timmy following the pseudo-druid around, saying “GOD DAMMIT” and “SHIT!” every other sentence which is scandalous even for me. And I like swearing.

All the while my poor son keeps pointing to the cover of the movie and asking “When are we going to see This?”

Never son. This is a lame-ass movie.

As we watch, it slowly dawns on him that he may have wasted his chance at getting a new movie on poorly dubbed, Made-for-German-TV drivel. It breaks my heart to see him learn such harsh lessons.

But I like to look on the bright side of things. So, although we wasted almost 90 minutes watching a terrible movie, I got to mediate my son’s first experience with false advertising. We talked about it afterward and, to my surprise, he was not as upset about the bad guys getting away with theft as I thought he would be. He seems to have figured out that you can dislike a movie, not because the bad guys are scary and mean, but because the entire plot is mind-numbingly stupid.

I am so proud.

So, to make up for the disappointment, I promised him we would watch a bona fide good movie next weekend for family movie night. Now I’m trying to decide between Time Bandits and The Never Ending Story.

Having seen neither movie, Catfish is angling for The Never Ending Story. I suspect this may be because he thinks it means that he can watch TV for the rest of forever.

P.S. The mysterious cab driver turned out to be Merlin. HA! I bet you didn’t see that one coming!

This morning, as I was doing my hair in the bathroom, Catfish walked downstairs. This is nothing new, he does it every morning. But this morning was different. I could tell as soon as I clapped eyes on him because, even though he was wearing his favorite sweat pants (the blue ones with the white racing strip down the side), he was also wearing the vest to his Christmas suit.

Ah, it was going to be one of those days.

Those days don’t come very often. When they do, the only proper response is to grab the camera and roll with it.

Standing on the bottom landing to the stairs in sweat pants and a vest (no shirt – just the vest) Catfish informed me that he had a very important meeting this afternoon and that he needed to wear his shirt and tie so that he would be ready for it when he got home.

Really? Okay. What’s the meeting about?

Apparently, he was meeting with Uncle Ed (a very special doughnut maker) and Sir Topham Hatt to discuss the movie he was going to make entitled “Calvin and Hobbes 2″ wherein Pooh Bear saves the twins from the bad guys who have (for unknown reasons) put the twins in jail.

I know it sounds stupid but I was actually quite impressed that he got a meeting with Sir Topham Hatt. I hear he’s quite loaded.

So my son went to school this morning in a dress shirt, tie, vest and sweat pants. After he was completely dressed he turned around, smoothed down his vest and shirt tails and said

“I think Stephanie will like this.”

Keep in mind that he is also wearing ratty old sweatpants.

I might have peed my pants a little bit trying to keep a straight face.

Anyhoo, cut to this afternoon. I picked him up at school and, to my amazement, he still had on both the vest and the tie. And, as soon as I reminded him about it, he was excited to go to his meeting. Unfortunately there was a bit of a late start as we had to actually clean up the floor before we could convene but it all worked out eventually.

The following are my notes from today’s meeting.

Board Meeting Notes 5-20-10

Chairman: Catfish

Secretary: Me

Treasurer: Brian

Shareholders: Wellington, Rhino, Katzuhiro

5:25 Cleanup floor. Assemble chairs and table (empty box)

5:30 ‘Food time’ On the menu: Plastic Roast Chicken and simulated cheese sandwiches. Shareholder Wellington states for the record: “Hi Mama!”

5:32 Shareholder Wellington steals the Chair’s faux fried chicken. Cheese sandwiches have been replaced by wooden apples and disturbingly real-looking fake cheese.

5:37 The Chair states for the record: “Okay, let’s all have a happy snack!”  More DRLF cheese is offered. The Secretary  inadvertently steals said cheese from Shareholder Wellington who protests loudly and is admonished by the Chair to “Be nice or your out of the meeting!”

5:39 The Chair serves phony baloney and provides a 4″ x 4″ tablecloth with a lovely ‘race car’ pattern (gingham). Shareholder Wellington brandishes a fraudulent radish.

5:41 The Chair serves more mock chicken in the form of a ‘dead T-Rex’ offering the tail to the Secretary. He keeps the forehead for himself.

5:41 The door is heard to open downstairs. The Chair puts forward the motion that we all “Quick, hide the food!” in a very low whisper.

5:42 Treasurer Brian joins the meeting. The Chair offers him a fake pear.

5:43 The meeting recesses while the Treasurer goes back downstairs to procure a proper seat for himself and the Secretary. The Secretary thanks him upon return.

5:44 Shareholder Wellington forces the Treasurer to eat a toy potato.

5:45 The Secretary puts forward the motion that we start the meeting. The motion is vetoed by the Chair in favor of serving more counterfeit food.

5:45 The Treasurer puts forward the motion that we start the meeting. The Secretary seconds the motion. The Chair serves artificial watermelon and half a fake eggplant.

5:46 Shareholder Rhino, the dinosaur puppet, joins the meeting.

5:46 Shareholder Katzuhiro joins the meeting.

5:46 Shareholder Katzuhiro leaves the meeting.

5:46 The Chair refuses to start the meeting until he is able to serve the “Mackenroni and Cheese – NOT from a box, but already made up nice and warm.”

5:50 The Secretary grabs the Chair in an attempt to tickle him into divulging his movie plans. The Chair finally agrees to tell his plans with the caveat that “There will be surprises.”

5:51 Meeting participants have a happy happy snack.

5:51 Shareholder Wellington is reprimanded by the Chair for pretend-eating all the pretend food.

5:52 Chairman Catfish starts the discussion of Thomas #3: the Movie.

Plot: Thomas is on a dangerous mission. The bridge breaks and he falls. He lands in the water and his wheels break.

5:53 Discussion pauses to request that Shareholder Wellington refrain from eating Shareholder Rhino.

5:53 Chairman Catfish continues with Thomas #3: the Movie.

Plot: Thomas finds train tracks. (Where? In the water? No, in the dirt.) They go UP UP UP! And then they’re on the other side and a NEW engine is there named ‘Unkin.’

5:55 Doorbell rings. Meeting recesses in order to ascertain that the UPS delivery man has just delivered the Secretary’s new sleeping bag.

5:56 Meeting reconvenes. Chairman Catfish finishes the plot summary of Thomas #3: the Movie.

Plot: Thomas then finds robbers at Train Island and there was another good guy named ‘Chuggington.’ The End.

5:56 The Chair introduces his second movie idea “Rock Monster #1″

5:57 Shareholder Wellington requests a fictitious can of refried beans be opened to feed Shareholder Rhino. Chairman Catfish states for the record that RM#1 will have a ‘Rock Monster Smasher’ that can also dig crystals.

5:58 Shareholder Katzuhiro rejoins the meeting. The Chair begins to outline his last project idea entitled ‘Space Police.’ He states for the record that “It will have a Robot Police Dog.”

6:01 The Chair demonstrates the Robot Police Dog and introduces the supporting character of ‘Transformer Police Dog.’

6:01 The Chair demonstrates the transformative powers of Transformer Police Dog.

The Chair demonstrating how Transforming Police Dog transforms.

6:05 Meeting adjourned (in favor of going to the gym.)

I went to the Safeway today. I had to have a prescription filled.

It’s cool, I’m okay.

When I turned in my script, the pharmacy tech told me to give her about fifteen minutes. I can do that. I need to go get sangria fixin’s anyways so I’m good.

I shopped.

I found lots of stuff. Most notably, I found Brian’s favorite cereal (Life) on sale for $1.00 a box which was awesome. Then I strolled over to get the fruit for the sangria. That went well.

On my way back from the produce section I passed the meat case and found some portobello mushroom sausages. So that’s dinner taken care of – again, awesome. I did get stopped by an employee to see if I was finding everything okay. I’m guessing that no one ever texts their husband about dinner in the middle of the Safeway meat department because that lady was confused as to what the hell I was doing.

But then I was done with my shopping and I still had about five minutes to spare.

I wandered.

This is not really a good idea ever because I end up buying shit like pickled okra (delicious, by the way) and Louisiana Fish Fry (don’t know yet) and four different kinds of hot sauce (aaaaall good.)

Today was no different except that before I started to wander, I decided to play The Grocery Store Game. I love the grocery store game!  Plus, that meant I had to stick to The Rules of the Game and currently that means I can only buy stuff that is either

A) on sale and/or

B) less than $2.00.

Have you ever played the Grocery Store Game? I can tell you from experience that it is pastime with some merit.

When I lived in the south I invented the Asian Grocery Store Game. That one is was all about language.

The Rules state that, whenever you find yourself in an Asian grocery store, you have to seek out and buy whatever product had the least amount of English writing on it. Then you have to take it home and try to cook it immediately.

I fricken’ loved this game.

I ate (or at least tried) a ton of different stuff with this game. I discovered how to make Inari sushi this way! Of course I also once served bubble tea tapioca balls with tomato sauce and Parmesan cheese.

In my defense, I don’t speak any Asian languages at all so I had NO idea what the fuck I was doing. (For the record, that tapioca was done to perfection.)

Alas, this game is now somewhat defunct since the FDA decided all food should have at least a minimal amount of English labeling. It’s still kinda fun but knowing all the ingredients on the can kinda takes the element of surprise out of it.

So now I stick to the cheap game and abide by the $2.oo/on sale limit. Which, by the way, is harder than it seems like it should be. Let me just say this, about that: It is AMAZING how expensive groceries are.

Seriously.

Are you aware that it is almost impossible to buy a decent sized bottle of Tabasco for under $2.00 unless you’ve been clipping coupons?

However, if you really watch the sales, you can get some pretty good stuff. Like Life cereal for $1.00 a box!

Of course I have one caveat to my under $2.00/on sale rule. I am allowed to buy anything that is advertised in such a manner as to elicit an appreciative response. For instance:

Occasionally Top Foods will advertise “Yellow Curved Fruit” for $0.39/pound. I don’t even like bananas all that much but I am a HUGE fan of yellow curved fruit.

Once I saw this in their flier:

Speaking as a person with a degree in Botany, I would have to say that this is somewhat inaccurate.

Let me just repeat that:

Top Foods is claiming that Iceberg lettuce is a good source of chlorophyll.

Just so you’re aware, Iceberg lettuce, compared to all the rest of the vegetables available EVER, is probably lower on the list than say, purple potatoes and albino parsnips.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to buy it. Hell, potato chips and gummy fruit probably have more chlorophyll than this lettuce but I still think it’s awesome and I want it.

And this afternoon I found another gem. Not only did it follow all the rules (On sale AND under $2.00 – sweeeeeet) but it was also some of the most persuasive advertising I’ve seen in a while. Here, let me show you:

I'm willing to bet these kick ass.

Did you see that? Here, let me make that bigger for you:

Apparently you should be drinking milk, not whiskey.

So remember when I told you I had a three-legged dog? His name was Chuck. He was more awesome than a trained monkey (well, probably. He never flung any poo at me that I recall.) He was certainly more awesome than the cat that barfs every time she eats too fast.

I'm lookin' at YOU Ms. Regurgitation.

Well, recently I came across Chuck’s old water dish. The one he had to have a special because of the missing front leg and all the times he would bend down to drink, lose his balance and go splashing into the water bowl.

While this didn’t phase him in the slightest, it would upset me to no end. It was heartbreaking to see him wobble over and fall. And, to be more honest with you, it was a major pain in the ass to clean water off the floor seven or eight times a day.

To solve this problem my step-father fashioned him up a standing water dish (Thanks Ed!) My mom painted it a lovely shade of green (Thanks Mom!)

As you may know, Chuck passed away. It’s been several years ago now but it still doesn’t get any easier to think about those last few months. I have tried to write up the story of Chuck, all the friends he made, all the people that helped ease his passing but I can’t seem to edit the damned thing. I get halfway through and I can’t read any more because my eyes start tearing up and my nose starts running.

After his death I gave away most of his stuff to a friend that had adopted a puppy. He was happy to have it, I was happy to give it. I gave him everything except the water dish. I don’t know why – I just couldn’t give it up.

Cut to this afternoon. I was dinking around in the shed and I spotted that water dish.

“Well now” says I. “That should be put to better use than just collecting dust, don’t you think?”

So I dragged it out and put it up for free on Craigslist. There are many things I could say about the “Free Stuff” section on Craigslist. Many of them you’ve probably heard me say before. I will sum it up to this:

Crazy-ass shit happens when you get involved with the “Free Stuff” area of Craigslist.

This is a proven fact. If you know what you’re doing it can be very rewarding. Today I was rewarded.

I posted this:

I used to have an awesome dog named Chuck. He only had three legs.

Before you email to ask: No, I don’t know how he lost it. He never told me.

Anyway, Chuck was a very tall black lab. He weighed over 100 pounds and when standing on his hind legs he was almost as tall as I am (5’4″)
Because he was missing a front leg he had to hop on his good leg when he walked. But you shouldn’t feel bad for him, he was spoiled rotten. Well, at least for all the years that he lived with me. He was so spoiled that my step-dad made him a custom water bowl so that he wouldn’t have to bend down to drink. This, I can assure you, is not an easy feat for a dog missing a front leg.

It’s been many years now and I still miss Chuck. After he passed away I gave most of his things to a friend who had just adopted a new puppy. But I kept the water dish because it seemed like a one-of-a-kind thing. I mean really, how many three-legged dogs does one meet on a regular basis?

Recently, I came across it again. I can honestly say that we have no plans to get a dog in the near future three-legged or otherwise. But I look at that water dish and think “Is there a dog out there that needs this?” How can I keep it if there is a three-legged dog out there in danger of capsizing every time he/she goes for a drink?

So here it is, my old dog’s water dish up for grabs. If you know of a three- legged dog (or maybe just a really LARGE dog) that is in need of a little aqueous assistance, please email.

Now, remember how I tried to find a suitable taker for the Large Red Area Rug (with Tassels)? That was an adventure I don’t mind telling you! In the end I had almost 200 people emailing me for that area rug.

TWO HUNDRED PEOPLE.

And they all wanted that area rug. Some pleaded, some demanded, some cajoled and some asked very nicely. But they all wanted the rug.

Which is why I was expecting a lot of people to email me about the dog dish. I was wrong.

Firstly, I have had twenty-two responses so far from the ad. That’s cool. Not everybody has a need for a standing water dish catering to a three-legged dog.

But then comes the weird part. Are you ready for the weird part?

Only five people actually want the water dish. Everyone else wrote to tell me things. How much they liked the ad, how I should get another dog, how there is a three-legged dog down the street from them, how I could donate it to the County Animal Shelter if I don’t find any takers and one woman who decided to tell me the story of her life in dogs.

I think.

I couldn’t really tell. Maybe you can figure it out. My point being that most of the people wrote didn’t need the dish, they just wanted to thank me for posting the story.

So that was nice in an unexpected way. It was also eerily reminiscent in a way. All those responses brought me back to  my time with Chuck. And how, for some reason completely beyond my scope of comprehension, people would see me walking my three-legged dog and feel the need to talk to me and …tell me things.

Not bad things. Well, mostly not bad things. Just…strange things.

For example, Chuck and I were running errands one day. On our way back from the sandwich shop I was approached by a man in a suit and tie.  When I looked up at him, he had tears in his eyes. He smiled a sweet, sad little smile and said:

“Bless you. My mother only had one leg.”

Whaaa? I mean sure, my dog only has three legs – your mom only had one. But doesn’t that mean that my dog had two more legs than your mom? How does that even correlate to the fact that we’re outside a sandwich shop and you are in tears? I guess for him it did. So I smiled and said:

“He’s the best dog in the world.”

‘Cause really, what is the proper response to that statement? I’ll tell you. There is no proper response.

I speak from experience in this matter because Suit and Tie guy was not the only person I ran into throughout my dog years that confessed to having a one-legged mother. Why just mothers? Did no one care if they had a one-legged dad? Perhaps those people don’t like dogs? I don’t know.

I’ve also seen several prosthetic legs. Not willingly, mind you. But people see that three-legged dog hoppin’ down the street and they start pulling up their pant legs. One guy had a bright purple aluminum bar for a leg. Bright. Fricken’ Purple.

I have been yelled at,

“Get that dog a fake leg!”

Questioned incessantly,

“How did your dog lose his leg? How come you don’t know? Can you walk that dog?”

Even offered a ride to the vet.

“I see your dog has a thorn in his paw, do you need help?”

But the best experience I had was completely silent.

Chuck and I were on our daily rounds. As we passed a cute little craftsman style house the front door opened and a man in his early forties stepped out.  He had a garbage bag in his hand. He put the bag down and turned around to close the door behind him. That’s when I noticed that he only had one arm. When he turned back around to pick up his garbage he noticed us wobbling down his sidewalk. He assessed Chuck for a second and smiled. Then he looked me in the eye and gave a slight nod that said:

“I approve of your dog there. You may be alright too.”

I smiled back at him and and we hopped on. And for the rest of the walk all I could think was

“That guy was missing the same arm as my dog!”

Ah, Chuck.

I miss you buddy.

This letter was in response to an ad I put up on Craigslist giving away a standing dog water dish. As near as I can tell, this woman is having an affair with a carpenter and living with twelve dogs while committing the felony of letter her dog run rampant (off-lead) on National Park land. But it’s a good thing she had those dogs because her neighbors are stealing from her? Whaaa?

your post re: chuck’s dog dish was very touching.not everyone has the patience to care for a 3 legged dog. chuck sounded very happy.
i thought i was the biggest dog lover ever.//but, now you have proved me wrong. i would love that dog dish for my 100# black lab Bonnie.
i had a job commuting 1.5 hours away…my fence was falling down & one of my dog at the time, was a little escape artist. so i had to hire someone carpenter to help me replace it….while fence was down, he loaded up my dogs & i & we went to national park to run them…while there, a couple drove up to me w/ 2 black labs in back & asked if they were mine. i said on & pointed to mine. they said they found them running wild way up in the forest, miles away…they were so hungry…they said they were taking them to the pound…i said no, dont do that, i will take them. my carpenter said you already  have 2 dogs you dont need 2 more.. besides you just got let go from your job yesterday, are you nuts….i said look at those pretty black labs… my carpenter refused to put the dogs in his truck. i asked the couple if they would give me & 4 dogs a ride back to my house….they agreed & i took the 2 new black labs & named them BONNIE & Clyde.
my dear sweet neigbors left a note on my door, informing me they were turning me in for having 4 dogs.
another friend of mine w/ a drinking problem, told me he had once trained & raised great danes & loved big dogs….at the time he was dogless, bur not for long. he fell in love w/ Clyde who weighs 125#. he said Clyde was a corny name & renamed him Bud..this freind’s father later came down w/ alzheirmer’s & he had to put his dad in a facility. my friend trained Clyde/Bud to be a service dog for nursing home patients.
myself, i am still struggling financially. only getting part time temp jobs.
i have been experiencing theft from neigbhors. poor bonnie wss so exhausted from her watch dog duties, she would collapse in exhaustion..so i got 2 free watch dogs a rotweiller/german shepherd  Captain and a pit bull/jack russell Cherokee.
my lab is very easy going & has to put up with the rest of the crew.
they steal her food, little boogers…
if you decide on me:
unfortuantely, i am south of shoreline, in thurston co, but could pick it up from friends in south king co…if you ccould get it that far south

Also – Pit bull/Jack Russel Terrier mix? How the hell does one allow THAT to happen?

Craigslist Ad Posted (Tuesday 8:29pm):

I have a huge, red area rug. My sister gave it to me about seven years ago but it is at least ten years old. It has been vacuumed at least once a month and has lived out all of it’s area-rug life to date in a non-smoking house. We have two cats that have rolled over every square inch of the rug, but you really can’t see much cat-hair since it is patterned with various colors, mostly red. Did I say it is red? It’s red, mainly. It has tassels. They are white.

There is nothing wrong with this rug except for two things:

1. I hate it.
2. My sister does not want it back.

Do you want it? You can have it. I would love for it to go to a nice home with nice people that will be nice to it for the rest of it’s area-rug life but I’m not going to be too picky. If you want to use this mainly red, be-tasseled, ginormous area rug to line your garage floor, because you think your car needs a break at the end of the day, then go for it. Just don’t tell me about it. The last thing I want is to feel *guilty* about giving the rug away because I hated it too much to pack it up and bring it down to the Goodwill. That would make me hate it even more. Please don’t do that to me. Just take the rug and smile.

Here is a picture of it so that you may see I am not lying when I say there is really nothing wrong with the rug (except for my undying animosity) that a good cleaning won’t help. If you would like to care for this area rug please email me. Please don’t email me with a phone number though because I will not call you. I can barely remember to call my mother once a week and it is highly unlikely that I’m going to call someone I don’t know about a rug I can’t stand. Sorry but it’s true. Email is the best way. Trust me on this.

Truly, I have come to hate this rug.

First reply, 8:34 pm:

Hi, I just saw your posting on Craigslist.
Please give me a call as soon as you can.
206-555-1212
Thank you,
Jerry

Third Reply, 8:37 pm:

im steve

At this point I am called away to do housework/dishes/urgent Mafia Wars things and I do not check my email until about 9 am the following morning. At which point, this happens:

Subject line: Perfect adoptive home for be-tassled beauty

Bare hardwood floored living room in a 1939 colonial in Lynnwood is applying for adoption of your elegant rug. For the last few years my owners have been moving to Switzerland and have stripped me of all my dignity – the last to go was my prized Karastan rug which was the last touch of warmth in my life. Now I echo and in my search for new owners I am sure this will be a detriment. In this difficult housing market my now unemployed owners are trying their best to find a lovely family to again grace my spacious, elegant dimensions but alas, their limited means prohibit much financial outlay.
When your generous listing appeared my heartwood beat a little more hopefully,
Could this be it? I shudder at the thought of oil drips on its mostly red (my favorite colour by the way [I like the British spelling]) surface as an alternative to a grand existence in front of my magnificent mantled and marbled fireplace – please say I do and my owners will be there  posthaste to consummate the match.
Yours truly,
Thanking you in advance
18X24 Living room on quiet wooded cul-de-sac in Lynnwood (of all places!)

Dear Bare, hardwood floored living room,

I spent many years in Lynnwood. It is a nice area. I would love to get back there. Please, come rescue me from this miserable existance. The people here hate me. I just know they do. I can feel it every time they step on me.

You can find me at:

XXXX XXXth St

Seattle WA 98133

My captors are good people I am assured but I am starting to fear for my life. If you can come get me this evening I would be much obliged but I will understand if you cannot come until the weekend. Thank you so very much. I look forward to meeting you.

I await your reply,

-Large red area rug (with tassels)

My dear be-tasseled area rug,

Be reassured that my suit has received a positive response and I am overjoyed and creaking a bit in anticipation of our meeting. Though I know your fringes are quaking with fear in your current hostile environment, be calmed in contemplation of your future happiness.

I have every assurance that your captors may bear some ill feelings, if only toward your excessive redness or possibly your tassels, but are doing their best to find you an appreciative audience. My owners, recognizing that the best things in life are free, will be there to rescue you at about 6:30 of the o’clock if that sounds agreeable.

Google maps says that your home is easy to locate but my owners, being a bit senior, would appreciate any helpful hints necessary in finding your location easily.

Until tonight,

Bare hardwood floored living room – but, call me bare no more after this evening.

Dear hardwood floor,

I await your arrival with all the excitement my tassels can muster. I will be vacuumed and rolled up by 6:30 this evening.

You can easily find this cold, heartless prison by taking I-5 south (information deleted to protect the innocent and to keep you all from showing up at my house.)

I am being held captive in the Bright blue house on the North side of the street 3/4 of the way up the hill.

If you get lost you can call 206-555-1212. When she understands your plan to take me away from this place, I am sure the Lady captor will prove accommodating.

My synthetic woolen heart sings in anticipation of our meeting,

-Large red area rug (with tassels)

Dear future hearth-mate,

My owners will arrive with bells to match your tassels. Don’t be dismayed about the means of conveyance to our union.  I am sure our next owners will drive a better class of vehicle – more in suiting to our high standards. As it is, please excuse the shabby 92 green honda pulling a rusty utility trailer that will arrive to whisk you out of your current misery to Lynnwood. Tis but a short drive to warmth and comfort. Shall we have a fire in the fireplace tonight to celebrate?

Yours, Floor

Thank your custodians, as I do, for a Craigslist meeting of minds and needs

See you tonight.

Theoretical Step One:    Sterilize all equipment.

Actual Step One:    Wander aound the house looking for beer log, carboy, air lock and sanitizer. Swear lightly.

Step 1.5:    Give up trying to find old beer log, start new. Realize you are out of Iodide solution. Head back to brew supply store. Swear mildly.

Step 1.75:    Find out beer supply store doesn’t open until 10am. Swear at cat. Play Mafia wars for 20 minutes.

Step Two: Chat with beer store guy for a few minutes. Go home. Sanitize all equipment with newly purchased Idophor solution.

Step Three: Steep grains. Apologize to cat for swearing at her so much.

Step Four: Boil it up! Don’t forget the hops!

Step Five: Rig up the wort chiller. Turn on hose. Slowly flood kitchen. Swear at cat some more.

Step Six: Attempt to pour cooled wort into sterilized carboy. Spill wort all over freshly cleaned floor (see step Five.) Go find cat.

Step Seven: Pitch yeast. Bulk wort volume to 5 gallons using sterile spring water. Laugh as cat gets feet stuck on sticky floor.

Step Eight: Shake. Shake. Shake.

Step Nine: Airlock. Mop. Apologize again to the cat.

Step Ten: The cause of, and solution to, all the world’s problems.

The cause ...sitting next to the solution.

It’s 11:00 am and here I sit. In my bathrobe, tissues stuck up my nose wondering if there is anyway I can legally crawl back into bed without looking like a complete schlub.

No. I thought not.

Well, at least I can do something productive today. I will give you my recipe for home made pear brandy. It’s not that hard.

Are you ready? Here we go!

How to Make Fabulous Pear Brandy

Step 1 The next time you’re at the grocery store go buy two really big pears. They can be any kind of pears you like but I typically use Anjous because they’re huge and when ripened they get pretty juicy.

Step 2 Go home and put these pears in a window to ripen. This usually takes two or three days.

Step 3 Go get the (very important!) brandy. You can use anything you like here. I use E&J VSOP (VSOP = Very Special Old Pale) because it’s cheap but not so cheap that your liver fails you.

Step 4 Procure a a quart-sized mason jar and lid (the Goodwill is a great place to find old kitchen stuff.)  Alternatively, you can use an glass mayo or large glass jam jar. Do not, I repeat DO NOT, use an old pickle or olive jar. You will not get the pickle/olive taste out. Trust me on this, I speak from experience.

Step 5 Are those pears ripe yet? You want them at the height of juicy. If they are still firm after two or three days, put them in a bowl with an apple or a banana. They will ripen up within a day or two. Make sure to check them often. You don’t want them over-ripe because they will make a huge mess.

Step 6 Pare the skin off of the pair of ripened pears (sorry, I had to.) Slice them up length-wise into about eight sections doing your best to take out the seeds without mushing up the fruit too badly.

Step 7a To make it pretty: Put the sections back together to form two Franken-pears. Stuff these into your mason jar. If they won’t fit well try putting the top one upside down.

Step 7b  Eff that, I’m not Martha Stewart: Just cram the pears in the jar every-which way.

Step 8 Fill the jar with your brandy. Cover the top with a bit of plastic wrap before tightening the lid into place.

Step 9 Can you believe there are so many steps to this recipe? I mean, all you are doing is putting some ripe pears in a jar with brandy and already you’re on step NINE. Sheesh.

Step 9.1 Put the jar of brandy in the back of a cupboard and forget about it.

Step 10 Get a cold.

Step 11 Make a hot toddy remembering that “AHA! I HAVE Pear brandy!”

You can use the brandy straight from the pear jar or let it sit for a few months then strain out the pears and pour the brandy into a small bottle. I have a few pressure lid bottles I keep for this reason.

As you can see, I've had a few colds this winter.

Cheers!