what's there to blog about??

Why does it feel like a zillion years has past since I blogged last?  I haven't blogged because I've been busy and because for some odd reason I feel like I should have something earth shattering or at least mentally deep to write about.  And sometimes you just really don't need to know what's going on in this head.  No really, you don't want to know.

Anywho--I went recently found a bunch of photos and realized that:

laying in the grass with your puppers is awesome.

Cally has this thing for sitting on the step

Puppies are like siblings and will only touch each other on accident and only barely at that

it's handy to have someone help you garden

my brother's cell phone is almost the size of a calculator

I golf with jolly rancher wrappers in my shoes

I'm sure there's some deep stuff there somewhere.  I'll let you find it if you dare....

National Day of Running Fail (aka the foot post)

Yesterday was the national day of running.  I had every intention of going for a run yesterday morning.  I got up early and put on my little running skirt, my sunscreen, grabbed my iPod and was totally set.  Until I put my shoes on.  I don't have new shoes, in fact the pair I have still have some mile to go before I trade them in. Can you do that?  If not, you should be able to do that.  Just like cars.  At least give me a portion of my purchase price back-right??

Anyway, there was obviously nothing wrong with my shoes, but rather my feet.

Do you know how hard it is to take a picture of the back of your feet?

I played golf the night before where I shot a "Paula low record" of 53, (look for me on tour soon-or not)  and I had on my golf sandals that gave me two beautiful blisters on the back of my heels.  So when I put my tenny runners on-it hurt like H-E-double hockey sticks.  I did the ol' XLMIC trick of popping them and doing the band aid thing, but I really didn't want to chance ripping up my tender skin any more than  it was already massacred.  The biggest reason was because I'm running the pups this weekend and I didn't want to be all gimpy on the course.  I totally failed at running on the national day of running.  Kudos to those of you who went out and rocked it-I'm proud of you!

I did want to get a work out in though.  I hoped that if I did some biking, it wouldn't bother my blistered bunny feet.  My clip shoes made me aware that I had some tender areas but seemed ok enough, so I took Eeyore out for a jaunt.  The toughest part was that I'd put 13.5 miles on the day before (yes and golfed on the same day-'cause I'm crazy like that) in a mere 47 minutes.  (you do the math to figure out my pace-I'm not gonna tell!)   So to ride bike a second day was tough on my trashed legs, (because running wouldn't be?) but at least my feet didn't hurt!

Eeyore left a love mark

The other reason I need my feet to be back to normal is because of my newest acquisition.  My friend Pammy held a gun to my head (for real-right there in the store-it was shocking!) and MADE me buy these--

They're completely impractical, and totally abnormal for my foot wear choices (minus one pair of leopard heels).  I LOVE them.  Plus when I wear them, I'm taller than Mr. P-hee hee.  I was feeling a little silly about the buying these crazy FMP's but I've decided that-(those of you who are related to me may want to close your eyes here and stop reading now)- I'm going to wear them as lingerie.  Actually I informed the sales guy my intention of boudoir footwear and he just laughed.  As I walked away, he said "I hope your husband enjoys your new shoes!"  Seriously?  How could he not?

Our UPS guy is cooler than yours....

Like I mentioned before, we get lots of packages delivered here.  Yesterday was no exception.  Peter, our super cool UPS guy showed up at about six thirty last night.  I'm not sure what kind of crazy route this guy has, but he's often at our place later in the day like that.  I always secretly hope it's his last stop before home.  

Not Peter's truck, but you get the idea...

I was outside, just getting ready to take Bunker for his evening walk/bark-a-thon when the loud brown truck pulled in the driveway.  I don't know about you, but my dogs have a love/hate relationship with the UPS truck.  I haven't decided if it's because they don't like the way the truck sounds or if it's because Peter usually (ok-always) has dog treats in his pocket.

It was a heavy delivery yesterday, and when Peter came out of the truck with the sixty pound box his brown shorts were soaked.  He was completely soaked from the waist down.  He explained that there was a car accident about a mile from our house.  I had heard sirens about twenty minutes before Peter showed up, so I'm assuming that's where they'd went.  A car had flipped and landed in the river.  I run and bike past this river multiple times a week and I know the water is very high right now.  Someone had called 911 but didn't go into the river to check for the driver.  Peter went into the river and checked on the driver before emergency vehicles even got there.  Upon arrival of emergency medical services and with the situation under control, Peter then went about his day just like normal, delivered my packages and continued on his route.  As if what he'd done was no big deal.  Sadly, the driver of the car didn't survive.  The car must have been there for a little while because Peter told me that when he checked on it, the muffler was barely warm.  It's not a popular road and if you were driving one direction it's possible that you wouldn't have even seen the car in the river.  That's just sad.  I offered him a blanket, (that water couldn't have been warm) but he declined and acted as if it's just something he does every day, like it was no big deal.

This custom drawing looks exactly like him.
He carries heavy boxes, his shorts were wet and he has no hair.
Totally accurate. 

To me it is a big deal.  I'm not sure how to let UPS know that they have a super hero type employee but I'm going to see I can contact them.  They should know.  Not everyone would have done what Peter did.  (although I wish they would)  Obviously my UPS guy is the coolest ever.  Eat your hearts out people, he's ours.

Ribbons and fire.

Happy Memorial Day!  Thank you to all the service people (and animals) for all that you do to make this such an awesome country!  I love my freedom!

We had a good weekend.  Why?  We went to the BOTC agility trial.  I love this show.  This was the very first agility show that I went to with Cally and Bunker.  It used to held outside in a park and I was terrified of running Cally in an outdoor show without a fenced ring.  Flat out terrified. (she used to flip me the paw and take off)  I still remember our jumpers run.  (I have it on tape too somewhere)  We didn't qualify but I was thrilled.  She stayed with me the entire time.  I was so happy that I started crying.  The funny thing was that I'd asked a guy to tape the run for me and he thought I was crying because I was upset. Typical man-totally not getting it.  (and NO-it wasn't Mr. P-just an agility friend) Mr. P would have totally understood.  Totally.  He's cool like that.  Or well trained.  

Cally sticking her head out of her crate for a photo op.

We always run well at BOTC.  Always.  Maybe that's why I love it.  Maybe not.  Maybe it's because I'm reminded of how far we've come, or because when we're there we seem to just run with simple joy in our hearts. (sounds cheesy but it's true)   I don't know.  Bunker had a perfect day on Saturday, thusly (isn't that a fun word?) qualifying him for the 2013 AKC agility nationals.  Cally had good runs, but she was "sticky."  I think it was because it was storming like crazy and the thunder was shaking the building.  She just wasn't herself.  I may need to look at getting her a thunder shirt.  (they do work by the way) Sunday had good runs but only one Q (that's agility slang for qualifying run-Q).  Today we went three out of four and a double Q (or QQ) for the C-dog.  Considering it was a mere five weeks ago that I was all upset about going two out of fourteen in Sioux Falls, I'd say this was great improvement.

But (why is there always a but?) during our runs today I got a text from Mr. P.  The local paper mill had an explosion.  UUUgh.  That's not cool.  I used to work not very far from there and knew/worked on people that worked there.  It's the kind of thing that instantly makes you sick to your stomach.  How can you celebrate something when other people might be dead or injured?   I decided all I could do was pray. I heard that one person was declared dead and four are injured.  I continue to pray for them and their families.  

Source

Not really the classy kinda gal...

I got a text last night from my friend Shannon.  She teaches various work out classes at the community center exactly twelve minutes from my house.  I've used the whole, "I just got home from work, need to spend time with the dogs" line all these years to not go to one of her classes.  Well, that and the fact that some of the classes were during my working hours. But yesterday was one of those days where I didn't get any kind of workout in, unless you count giving glaring looks at people that maybe don't have a drivers license but were still driving on the interstate.  I got a good glaring workout there.  I did managed to keep my hands to myself though.  (pretty proud of that)  Somedays I'd like to put the definition of MERGE on my car.  But I'm sure I'd get a ticket for distracting someone while they were texting, eating and putting on their mascara.  Heaven forbid.

Shannon in all her glory!
I have the classiest friends!  :)

 Shannon gave me the "it'll be fun!" text, so I figured "why not?"   Mr. P cringes when I say that to him.  Whenever I throw out the "it'll be fun!" line, he goes and ups the life insurance.  Go figure.

I was trying to think of the last time I was at an exercise class.  I've got nothing.  Not that I haven't ever been to a gym, but an actually class??  Nope.  I remember one yoga class that I did one time back in the early 2000's but other than that......nada.  So what does a gal bring to one of these workout classes?  I've never even been to the facility.  Do I bring a change of clothes?  Do I shower there? Do I need a lock for a locker?  Sooo many questions, so little time.  After a mad texting exchange (who really talks on the phone anyway?)  it was determined that all I needed was me (got that), water, and a yoga mat if I wanted (got that too).

The class is called HIT or high intensity training.  Mr. P reminded me that Shannon's husband has never, ever called one of her classes "fun" and made Shannon promise that she'd drag my lifeless body home if she killed me.  Whatever.  For some reason, that makes a woman just want to show up and kick a$$.  (what is wrong with us?)

I found the class. It was tough.  I walked the door and said, "I need to find Shannon's class."  The delightful nineteen year old behind the desk just pointed to a room.  It was a piece of cake.  Big sigh of relief from me.

Upon entering the room (which might have been a million degrees to begin with) I noticed three or four other gals getting their "stations" all set up.  Crap.  You need props for this class??  I'm not super coordinated with props. I'm convinced in some dimension, they actually bite.   They all had those aerobic stair step thingys, jump ropes, free weights, resistance bands, exercise balls, mats, water and of course, their yoga mats.  Just me taking that inventory alone had me standing there like a crazy person absorbing what all nine of us (eventually) would be doing for "fun" for the next hour.

I will say this.  I'm not coordinated, and the class was good.  I know I'm that girl that does everything the exact opposite of the rest of the class. The gal that is one step off.  I did smile when I realized that I wasn't the only one.  I had a fellow out of sync-er just a mere one station away.  Hee hee.  We will unite and conquer the world some day.  I also can't seem to jump rope for anything.  It's not the cardio that was the issue, it was the actual swinging of the rope that seemed to be an issue.  Whatever.  Shannon was the only one that knew me there.  Some of the moves we did I KNOW were from P90X and it brought back evil flashbacks of those days.  (I might have wanted to take Tony out a time or two)

source
I'll take Shannon over Tony any day.  He's just annoying.  

 
I found this to be interesting about the workout itself, my legs never strained.  Obviously they're strong from all the running, biking and rollerblading.  It was good cardio.  My heart rate got up there.  It illuminated areas that I'm weak in, such as core (what is that?) and arms, but not to the point where I can't move today, which is good because I've got stuff to do today.  Moving IS one of them.

The biggest question is will I go back?  I'm not sure.  I'm not really a "classy" kind of person.  (duh)  I like the whole "we're in this together" feeling, but do I need an actual class?  If I look at the full body workout, I really should go back. At least once a week.  I could keep doing my other "stuff" the rest of the week.  Hmmmm.  I need to think about this one.  It might be fun.  :)

Do you do exercise classes?  What happens if you don't?  

Happy Birthday Mr. P!

Today is Mr. P's birthday.  He's another year older.  How so you spend your 38th birthday if you're Mr. P?  

First, you get little to no sleep the night before because you're partying like a rock star and worried about being a year older.  Or maybe it's because you're sleeping in a hotel because you're out of town and just can't seem to sleep well in hotels.  It's one or the other-you pick.

Then you have to spend the day doing "businessy" stuff (we don't really know what Mr. P does and as long has he's happy-we don't care).

Because it's your birthday, you manage to catch an early flight home.  Whoop whoop!  Home.  We like home.

When you pull into the driveway, your super beautiful wife is sitting on the front porch and your three totally awesome labradors RUN to greet you.  (could there BE a better birthday??)

You eat your Subway dinner while watching the squeaky shoe game on tv (and your super cool wife doesn't even complain about it). You also notice that she's SLAVED for hours in the kitchen and made you your favorite birthday cake.  Chocolate with white buttercream icing.  Because she loves you.

Photo evidence of actual chocolate cake with white icing.  

You then realize that you're the luckiest man on the entire planet and know that any birthday wish that you might make couldn't even compare to all your wishes that have already come true.

Happy Birthday Mr. P!

Mother's Day Puppy Style

You totally thought I was going to call this post doggie style didn't you??  Don't think I didn't think about that....

My super great doggy mother's day included special gifts from my fur babies like this:

• The gift of sleeping in until 6am-a total treat.  (might of had something to do with us being out with friends carousing all hours of the night, but still)
• Bunker gave me the gift of quality play time.  Oh right, he always wants to play.  Whatever, I'm pretty sure todays play time was extra special.  
• Cally gave me the give of working on the landscaping.  She's available for hire-just in case you were wondering.  

Cally's new landscape design has a lovely earth feature where the plants are UNDER the dirt.  

• Mulligan gave me an awesome gift too.  We went for a walk and his knee didn't make a single sound.  After almost six weeks of worrying about that knee, today was the first day that it seemed like we're on the right track.  Finally!!  

Happy Mother's Day!

Photo Fail

So I've been a bit lax in the whole blogging department-I know.  Even Mr. P says he reads the blog just so he knows what's going on with me.  You'd think he'd know what is going on since we live under the same roof, but apparently not.

The pups and I spent some time in the basement tonight thanks to the local tornado warning.  I don't ever have to worry about not hearing the siren because the dogs think it's a howl-along-athong.  I especially appreciate the first Wednesday of every month (which happens to be tomorrow) at 1:00pm when they test the sirens.  It's a treat.  But, so far, so good, only some heavy rain, no tornados.  I say we keep it that way.

I found out that the local (and I use the word loosely-it's more like an hour one way if you drive five miles over the posted speed limit) place where we usually get dog food is having a little contest.  Do you know how some dogs smile?  Yeah it's cute.  And the dog food place is having a contest.  If you send in a picture of your dog smiling and if the store people (employees?) vote that your dog has the best smile then you win a $50 gift card to that store.  Sounds great, right??  I'm thinking we could totally benefit from an extra $50 towards hound chow.

AND we have one dog that "smiles."  Mulligan will smile.  But it's not a normal smile.  That would be silly. Are any of my dogs normal?  What fun would that be??  His smile is really more about showing the front teeth.  He doesn't to it all the time, but if it's someone he really likes then he'll smile at them when he first sees them.  (yes, he'll smile for me-thank you for asking) After that, the excitement must wain because he doesn't smile again. I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've ever used the word wain, FYI.  It makes me feel all grown up and stuff.

Since I'm a winner, winner, chicken dinner kind of gal, I thought I could totally get a picture of my furry face showing off his unique smile and send it in for the contest. Every employee and every person around the nation would be mesmerized by his super cool personality and we'd wander home with the cool $50 gift card.  Easy Peasy.  Who couldn't use a $50 gift card right?  Oh, well, I guess if you didn't have pets then you probably wouldn't need it.  But I digress.  I got my camera out and mostly ready and waited until Mr. P came home.  I knew Mully would smile for him.  I got a couple of pictures.  He's a hard one to get.  You'd think an eleven year old wouldn't move that fast, but he can if he really wants to!

Do you see what I see?  Yeah, that's what I thought.   He looks psycho.  Kinda "Cujo"-ish really.  I love this hunk of fur more than anything but really??  Why hadn't I noticed this before??  No wonder some people ask about him when he smiles at them.

I'm thinking I won't be sending this pretty pics in after all.  So much for that great idea....maybe if they have a rabid look alike dog contest.....sigh. It's ok Mulligan, I still love you.  Crazy smile and all.  

Randoms from last week...

1. I thought I broke Mulligan a couple (?) of weeks ago when he did some agility equipment and then started limping.  He'd limp and then be better and then go really lame again.  It was the leg he had his ACL surgery on.  I thought for sure I broke him.  He went to the doggy chiropractor (don't judge) and he has a muscle strain but should be ok.  His knee is ok.   I didn't break my dog too badly...so we think for right now...

Mulligan does his "flat Stanley" imitation. 

2. We get lots of deliveries here.  This means lots of UPS and Fed Ex trucks.  A certain yellow dog who remain unnamed (Cally) not only jumped into the Fed Ex truck, she ran around the inside of the truck like a lunatic and ate the drivers Doritos.  That's my finely trained dog-except I did not train her to do that-honest.  Maybe she learned it from Mr. P?   Maybe he'll keep the door shut next time.  She hopes not.

Taken moments after the Fed Ex truck incident.  Doesn't she look innocent?

3.  Since I quit my day job I've been busy with my dog business and watching Days of Our Lives (twice).   You didn't know I had a dog business?  Surprise-I do.  It just so happens that I've been a canine massage therapist for two years.  (google it-we really exist)  I've also developed an all natural flea, tick and bug spray for dogs called NatuRepel. (it can be used on people too if your dog will share)  I'm thrilled with how well it works because we live in freaking ticksville.   If you're interested in doing a blog review, have any questions or want to purchase, hop on over to A Balanced K9 and let me know.

4.  I talked with two grown men on Friday and they both had to get off the phone because they had to pee.  (you know who you are)  I'm just thankful they didn't decide to multi-task.  Really thankful.

5.  This isn't last week, but today I had a great five mile run.  It was spitting rain but not to terrible, so I headed out.  It felt great.  For some reason last week was crazy and even though I got two workouts in, I felt like this:

Here's to a great week ahead!  Happy Earth Day!

I'm a terrible quitter

Bunker, Cally and I went to Sioux Falls, South Dakota this past weekend for an agility trial.  We were in one about two weeks ago that went really well.  Really, really well.  This weekend-not so much.

We had a total of fourteen runs and only qualified on three of them.  That's less than ideal.  Wayyy less than ideal in my world.   Now, don't get me wrong, both dogs ran well.  Really well.  Bunker's jumping was phenomenal and Cally was always a pistol.  There was just one thing that seemed to go wrong on each run.  At our level, if you're not perfect, you're not  going to qualify.  We're also at the level where we need not only one, but two perfect runs per day.  No pressure or anything.

Having such an imperfect weekend is discouraging.   You start trying to figure out whether it's worth it to keep trying. You look at the entry fees, the cost of travel, hotel and food and try to decide if it's worth it for only three q's (q is slang for qualifying score in the agility world)  out of fourteen runs.

Yesterday I decided I was going to quit doing agility. I was just so frustrated with the outcome of this trial. Good runs that weren't "good enough."  Someone said to me this weekend that those of us who do agility have a problem.  Our problem is that we just don't have enough sense to quit.   We just keep going, because we know that the next run might be the run of utter dog and handler perfection.  The run where every contact gets hit in the yellow, every bar stays up, every weave pole is done and every tunnel gets entered the correct way.  It's some kind of freaky addiction.  My decision to stop doing agility lasted a whopping three hours.  When I was on the road home, I knew I wouldn't quit.  I knew that today I'd be sending in entries for upcoming shows.

I also recognized some of the holes we had in our training.  Things we will work on so we can rock the next trial.  I'm a terrible quitter....

Wednesday Bliss

It's Wednesday and I got to spend it doing this:

Ok- that picture wasn't taken today, but I wore that sweatshirt today so I thought I should use this picture.  Plus it makes me smile because Cally isn't paying any attention to me here and my hair is just plain sexy.  I mean, really sexy and once you add in the super hot sweatshirt-oh baby.  It's no wonder Mr. P can't keep his hands off me.  (Although he did mention something about burning my sweatshirt this morning because he's sick of looking at it...) Agility is so glamorous.

And this:

Ok- I didn't do this, Bunker did this.  He's cute and I'd be silly to not include a picture of his bliss today.  He doesn't ever have to worry about how his hair looks.  Maybe he worries about how his ears flap?  Nah, I doubt it-he's a guy.  They don't worry about stuff like that...

Happy Wednesday!  :)

A Sign of the Future?

The other day I mentioned that when I rode Eeyore (my bike-for those of you with super short term memories and can't remember the name of my totally awesome two wheel pedal bike that lives in my dining room) my "sits" bones would get super sore.  They weren't because I wear see through tights-that has nothing to do with it, at least I don't think it does.  One would think that my large gluteus maximus would be padded enough to withstand a bike ride to the moon and back, but I guess not.

So, I ordered some padded bike shorts.  My friend Amy(who does all things TRI) told me that the Terry brand was the best way to go.  I found them online and totally dig the stuff they have.  Since I quit my day job (newsflash-since I've hardly told anyone)  and have all this extra time, I'm thinking I could go on their wild goose chase bike ride.  Bunker likes to chase geese, maybe I would too.  I've never tried it.    Because I'm frugal, (not cheap-there is a difference)  I found another site that had the same Terry shorts but for less shipped to my door.  Yes folks, I'm a deal finder.  Feel free to bask in my awesomeness.  Or not-that's ok too.

Now then, I've never worn padded shorts before.  A padded bra-yes, but padding on my rear-never.  Having no previous experience with this, I find them a bit, um, strange.  I wonder if this is what it's going to feel like when I'm in the geriatric stages of my life?  Is my plumbing going to give out at a certain age making padded bike shorts necessary for social interaction?   People are always warning you about the future with things like "just wait until you get older!"  Is that what they're talking about?   I am hoping technology will have solved this whole "old age issue" thing by the time I get there.  Paws seriously crossed on that one.   Shudder.  

As far as serving their biking purpose.  They rock.  Obviously I don't have any other brands to compare them to, but after seven miles today, my tuckus is happy, happy, happy.  And that makes me happy, happy, happy!  (and probably Eeyore too)  

The mailbox project....

We needed a new mailbox.  Somehow ours got hit with my car.  I was there.  It literally lunged into my car, committing some type of mailbox suicide.  Apparently I can't own a car without a scrape down the left side of it....   Sigh.  Poor Gus.  (that's my car-not my suicide committing mailbox)  

Because we're completely heartless human beings, we left the mailbox up after it decided to end it's life as a postal receptacle.  In order to get the lid closed we had to use a sledgehammer to "ease" it back into a life like position.  Even then, the strength of a giant and three small schoolboys was required to get it to shut.

Handy little thing...

After the hammer,  you can imagine what it was like before.  

The final decision to get a new mailbox happened the other week when I was rollerblading.  No, I didn't run into the mailbox.  (Thanks for the vote of confidence.)  I witnessed our postal carrier trying to get the lid shut.  I was sooooo embarrassed.   I think she grunted as she slammed it shut.  Probably because she pulled something in her arm.   She was pulling away when noticed that the door didn't close with her herculean effort, so she backed up her car and tried again.   I wanted to melt into my rollerblades.  She was still courteous enough to wave with her now strength depleted arm.  Uuugh.   

I will admit that in my 30-something years on this earth, (not 40 just yet!)  I've never put up or changed a mailbox.  While Mr. P was out of the house I got the new box and the new numbers and set to work.  This shouldn't be so hard-should it?

Since I'm a bit anal retentive about some things, it's imperative that the numbers be on straight.  I'm not sure why.  I hardly ever look at the numbers on the mailbox.  BUT in order for all the numbers to be straight, the first one must be straight.  And I really didn't want to fail at this whole mailbox thing anyway.  So I cracked out all the tools I knew to use.  I had a level (my favorite and maybe a billion years old), a straight edge (aka-a piece of cardboard that was straight), a tape measure and a sharpie marker.  I was set.

On the level...

And NONE of those things helped me.  The box curves just so and I don't know what else.  In the end I just said "screw it" and eyeballed it.   I have to admit, it turned out pretty good (not that I'm breaking my arm by patting myself on the back or anything.)   But, at least the postal carrier hasn't complained yet!  

Yes, we are #1.  

Isn't it beauteous???

  

The Perfect Day...

We had an awesome weekend.

I took Bunker and Cally to an agility trial.  It's about an month and a half since we've done a trial.  We only got in one day so we made the most of it!  

Little Miss Cally-Josephina-Head had her fastest jumpers with weaves run EVER.  She ran the course at a little over six yards per second.  So much for getting slower as you get older!!

Weave 'em like you stole 'em!

Not to be totally outdone, Mr. Bunker-Chunker had his second fastest jumpers with weaves run ever.  He was a just a titch under six yards a second.  He had such a great time!  

After they properly annihilated the jumpers courses, Cally and Bunker both ripped up the standard courses.

It's called a dog walk-not a dog RUN!  

Yes folks, we had four runs and four qualifying scores.  In the world of agility, that's called a perfect day.  How do we get soooo good that we have a perfect day after taking six weeks off?  Well, we train just like my friend Will.  Totally, exactly like him.... You can see his totally awesome training skills here....

In my world, it was a perfect day.  Not because of the perfect scores from both pups, but because I got to spend quality time with them and see an awesome group of friends that I haven't seen in a while.

Here's to many more perfect days!  

Meet Eeyore

So at the end of my half marathon training I was really sick of running.  Like, really sick of it.  Run, Run, Run.  It was like a never ending theme.  Go figure.

Now, I'm glad I did it, and I've been out running a few times since then but newest latest and greatest obsession is my new buddy Eeyore.  (I didn't name him-the guy at the bike shop did..who am I to argue?)

No- Eeyore isn't the black dog-that's Mulligan.  Eeyore is my new bike!  And yes, I keep him in the dining room.  Isn't that normal?

I'm excited.  I haven't ridden a bike in a gazillion years.  Not kidding.  I am a gazillion and one years old.  Mr. P has had a bike for a while and I'm so pumped to kick his butt ride with him!

We actually had the bikes out the other day.  (And no, I didn't forget how to ride!)  It was a nice chance for Eeyore and I to bond.

My brain is so important, it needs a bucket.

We still had some snow (which is gone now) but it was a sunny warm day.  Mr. P informed me that you can totally see through the pants I was wearing.  Is that why he was behind me the whole time, or was I faster than him from the start?  And where else have I worn those??? 

I hope Eeyore and I will have many great adventures.  As soon as I buy some padded shorts (non-see through) or build up some callouses on my rumpus!   

Oops, I lost my tail again.....    :)

Signs, Signs, Everywhere A Sign

I love signs.  Totally love them.  Sometimes I wonder how many people actually READ the signs around them.  There were some signs around St. John that kinda cracked me up.  Yeah, yeah-I know, enough about St. John already.

I always wondered where the 16oz drink originated.  Now I know.  

You can decide if I took advantage of this offer or not! I'll never tell!

This one is my personal favorite:  

Is one because of the other? OR ??

Oh- and another great sign, this is the sign of the Cruz Bay Boutique Hotel.  It's where we stayed on St. John.  It's where you should stay on St. John.  They're awesome.  Enough said!

Pardon the photo-it was dark and with my phone

Do you have a favorite sign???

And a Day of Walking

Since we couldn't scuba dive on our last day on St. John, (don't mix diving with elevation-bad idea) we had to use our land lover legs for the day.

After breakfast, we went to the St. John Animal Care Center.  It's the local no kill animal shelter and they have some of the best critters and people you'll ever meet!

 Our hotel "hostess with the most-ess" Denise gets to hang with these wonderful people and fur kids all the time.  She donates her time every week to match people and pets and make the world a better place. Can't you just feel the warm and fuzzy feelings here??  Since Mr. P and I were longing for some puppy attention, we hoofed it over there and were lucky enough to get approved to walk some of the puppers!

First we took Lola and Bullwinkle for a spin-they're little but super sweet!

The view when you walk Lola!

Mr. P playing with Bullwinkle and Lola

After cruising around with the dynamic duo of Lola and Bullwinkle, we took out Moose and Happy.  I don't have a picture of Moose, but trust me-the name fits.  He's super sweet.  Whomever adopts him will be very lucky. We took a little walking break and Happy soaked up some lovin'!

Happy is happy.

Happy is adorable!!!  Totally freaking adorable.  She was my favorite in the whole place.  She's sweet, smart, happy (duh), loves to play, etc.  She's the total package.  I would have snuck her home on the plane but I'm pretty sure we would have had a Lab revolt when we landed.  Bummer.  She'll make someone a wonderful buddy.   If you're considering adding a fur-kid to your life, please consider some of the wonderful ones they have that are looking for their forever home.  You can make their world a better place and they can make your world a better place.  It's a win-win.

After getting our canine fix, we headed out on some of the local hiking trails.  St. John is known for it's super duper awesome beaches.  We took the Lind Point trail to Salomon beach.  You can only get to that beach by trail or by water.  It was a fun little hike.  

Is it this way or that way?

Salomon Beach

After getting to the beach, Mr. P and I realized that we're not really beach people.  We love the water and the weather and all the things associated with the beach, but we don't really like "the beach."  It's dumb, but after twenty minutes we were bored.  I'm pretty sure that's just wrong on some crazy level and we probably need counseling.  We actually shouldn't even be admitting that kind of stuff to people.  Really.  Now we'll be shunned from all the super cool social groups.  oops.  

So, we hiked back into town and had a "little lunch" (that was for you Minnesota folks). We then mapped out our next mini adventure.  We opted for another hike.  This time to the top of the world!  Or maybe to the top of lookout hill.  Or maybe it was to the Caneel Hill Summit.  Yeah, that was it.  Caneel Hill!    It was a hot hike, but the view at the top was beautiful!!  Totally worth it!  

A view from the top

Our evening was spent at our favorite Beach Bar hangout and we were ready to head back home in the morning!  Thank you St. John for such a wonderful trip.  We can't wait to go back!

Under the Sea of St. John

Like I mentioned the other day-Mr. P and I totally went scuba diving on our little excursion down in St. John.  We carved out three wonderful days to swim with the fishes and other sea critters.  As luck would have it, my underwater camera died on the first dive of the first day.   Sad face.  Totally dead.  It wouldn't even PRETEND to work.  Zip. Zero. Nadda.

I'm not the best at the whole underwater photography thing.  It takes skill and practice and a kick butt set up with lights and some other crazy contraptions.  I just have had a little point and shoot camera jobby with an onboard flash.  And not that much skill.   I first started taking pictures so I could look at stuff in a book and have a photo reference after the dive.  The last time we went diving, I took this pic:

Yes- Sir- E-Bob-that's a stingray.
I think it's the one that killed the Crocodile Hunter.
Or maybe not.  Probably not.  But it could be.

So when my camera croaked on me, I did the selfless thing that any loving wife would do.  I stole Mr. P's video camera.  That was new.   Imagine me, "film maker of the sea" with the whole underwater world at my whim for two whole days... I'm pretty sure I made every subject a total star.  Or-maybe not.   Here's a couple ("couple" ranging from two to twelve, per the definition of how many cookies we could have when my brother and I were kids)  of videos from the trip.  I won't bore you with all of them.  Promise.  If nothing else, you might be entertained by the "darth vader" noises of my breathing underwater.  

The first is the rare Mr. P fish.  I see one of these every time I dive, but others do not.  They seem somewhat friendly when approached.  Note the fine cinematography and use of light.

And then we have the elusive Gray Angelfish.  I don't think he wanted to be on camera.  That's probably why his butt was pointed my way most of the time.  What can I say?  Not every fish is ready for the camera or my rockin' awesome video skills.....

And these underwater thingys.  I can't remember what they're technically named and I forgot that they did this-it scared the beegeebies (whatever that is) out of me!  

 Lastly, the encounter with the pair of triggerfishes.  The proper name for these beauties is Balistes Vetula, but what fun is it to be proper?  Most folk just call them Queen Triggerfishes.  I guess sometimes they're also known as the Old Wife Fish, but that doesn't seem very glamorous or very camera worthy.