Wednesday, April 05, 2006


Shrinking Violet is on Sabbatical until about June 15, 2006. See you then!

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Moving - Vol. 1 Issue 1

Okay, so the Man, the MRD and I are moving about four hours north of here at the end of May. It's the Packrats v. the Anal Rentitives. My sister-in-law once told me, it takes three big moves to get rid of all the crap that your husband has accumulated over time that is now worthless. And, I'm not talking about sentimental football jerseys. I'm okay with's an excuse to go to the Container Store and by a proper storage box. We're talking about USELESS STUFF. The Man sometimes forgets that he does not live in the Depression Era. He also forgets that he is not mechanically inclined. So our garage has a bunch of stuff that is TRULY USELESS. He cannot fix or repair any of the items. Nor will he have any of them repaired. Let's face it, they've been in the garage for five years without being fixed. What's going to change that now? Here's the top ten list on my hit parade. It might get ugly. We might have to distract him with some kind of hunting trip where he leaves town or get him a shiney new toy. But I swear, these things are going to get thrown out, one way or another.

1. Golf shoes that do not fit.
2. Anchoring rope for a yacht.
3. Broken adding machine.
4. Broken 3-ton television.
5. Clothes that are two sizes too large or small, or have holes or stains.
6. Socks with holes.
7. A ten year old cell phone.
8. 10 years worth of hunting magazines.
9. Tangled fishing line.
10. 27 empty gatorade bottles.

If we can survive this without getting divorced, we can survive anything!

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

You're Invited

Shrinking Violet is thinking about throwing herself a shower. In less than 90 days, she, The Man and the MDR will be packing up and moving to a new city. Things are so disorganized, she now refers to herself in the third person. So, here's what she needs:

1. As much motivation as humanly possible. We're talking high school competitive cheerleading motivation levels. No need to wrap it, just send it.

2. Brain cells. She emailed her corporate helpdesk today and asked if they had any in the store room next to the mouses and keyboards. Sadly, they were fresh out.

3. Focus. The kind of laser beam focus brought about by a fist-full of ritalin.

4. Tranquilizer gun from Marlin Perkins on Mutual of Omaha's "Wild Kingdom". You see, lots of things are going on...the Kid is getting to graduate from high school, the in-laws 50th wedding anniversary, me traveling back and forth to the home office, etc. An unfortunate side effect is that the Man's bi-polar is a highly manic right now. I'd like to just give him a tranquilizer used on the average rhino that would put him him down during this transition (except for the graduation and 50th anniversary part). Then wake him up when we are in our new place. But don't poke at him because he'll be cranky!

Okay, so if you could throw yourself a shower, what would you ask for?

Tuesday, March 07, 2006


"That which does not kill me makes me stronger." All I can say is that shit better be true. Because if that which does not kill me only leads me to ulcers, premature graying, a loss of collagen and elasticity in my skin, and an early death, I'm going to be really pissed.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

So Sorry This Is Late

Hey Gang!

Remember when I said my name had been sent up the corporate flagpole for consideration of a new position? Well, it was considered while I was in Louisiana. I found out while I was in Cajun Country that my name had been accepted. As a result, I was sent to the Home Office last week to start training for my new position. I can't tell you how exciting it has been.

It is a breath of fresh air. I'm using my brain all over again. It is like God is saying that he has noticed my 10 years of hard work and is giving me an "atta boy" for the effort!

I'm sorry I have been delinquent in blogging. I've been working pretty much non-stop. When not working, I've been shopping for a "formal gown" for a "formal ball". Geez, internet, it has been years since I went to something "black tie". I have to say that shopping for this event has been about as pleasant as shopping for a swimsuit. But, the sales were good this time and no one got injured. I look a little like Morticia Adams in my new dress but I came in under budget. And since The Man, The MDR and I will be moving in June, these people really won't be seeing me again.

Ouch....moving in June...I don't even want to think about that yet....

Well, I'd better go start applying the spackle (makeup) and rubber cement (hair product) for tonight's event!

Have a great Sunday evening and I'll try to blog more!

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Bringing Up Baby

I think my doggie and I have finally bonded. While the Man was away this weekend, we were forced to come to terms with our relationship. Frankly, a lot of the things I thought to myself this weekend reminded me of what I frequently hear from parents of newly mobile children...

1. "I swear, I couldn't even find time to shower without her crying."

2. "She follows me around like a shadow....if I stop to quickly her nose would go up my butt."

3. "I'm all touched out....I don't want to hug or be hugged.....I've been clung to all day."

4. "I THOUGHT I baby-proofed everything....somehow she found it."

5. "She really just needs a nap."

The dog park is really no different than PTA or booster club meetings. All the "knowing" parents stand around and talk about getting their dogs in to the "right" training course and the best "kennel".

It was just like a scene out of Steve Martin's "Parenthood". There were all the Rick Moranis-type parents talking about training concepts and their dogs were working hard on learning new tricks. Meanwhile, my dog has the bucket on her head and is ramming her head into a tree. She's been to the "free" beginner's class three times.

But that's okay. When we take our afternoon nap. She lies on the floor beside me and I can hear her sigh. When I roll over to get more comfortable, so does she. And when I get up to get a drink of water, so does she. Like mother, like daughter.

We're gonna be just fine.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Sweetness and Light

The Man had to return to his hometown for a family funeral. Before leaving, he left me a list of instructions for the care and feeding of the MRD. He also went through "drills" with me regarding her routine, her likes, dislikes, turn-on's, turn-off' get the idea. I'm surprised I was not regaled with interpretive dance instructions in the parking lot just before he drove would think the Shrinking Violet was the one that rode the short bus to school.

All went well last evening as Miss Sweetness and Light played in the doggie park for an hour with her friends. She did not poop, but she ran and played nicely with others. We didn't have to leave until my allergies and asthma were causing lung failure. Then I walked her again at 10:00 p.m. Still no poop. I rationalized that she hadn't eaten much since The Man left and said a quick prayer that she would not poop in her kennel during the night.

Violet was sleeping like the dead, if the dead had access to Ambien, when at 6:00 a.m., Miss Thang began her morning vocalization practice. She starts with scales and then effortlessly moves to whining. She means business if she has to resort to barking to get your butt out of bed. Out we go into the cold morning. Clearly, the weatherman was right and the cold front had come in during the night. It was an arctic 41 degrees. And while I'm sure all you bloggers up north are getting a chuckle, I was dressing so as not to get frostbite while walking Miss Thang.

Immediately, she noticed a sprinkler head was broken and water was gurgling out into the parking lot. This was chastised with a growl and bark as appropriate. She then identified IED that was most certainly left by a terrorist. This required growling, sitting, pointing, barking and pulling my finger out of it's socket by tugging on the leash with freakish speed and strength. Upon inspection, she decided that Dasani water bottles were not a threat. Then the poor men jogging 3000 yards away had to be reminded that this was her turf with a solid round of barking that woke up the rest of the building. BUT STILL NO POOP. I'm begging her, like one the blogger's who pretended to call her daughter's poop on the phone, to PLEASE POOP, so that The Man will know I am not a failure.

Alas, it was not to be. Not until 9:00 a.m. this morning after numerous treats and pets and hugs did she produce the desired item. If she were a human child she would be a brat. I would have no control....I'd be one of those women that gets beaten by their own child.

But, dang is she cute! And those ears are still just hilarious. How could you get mad at a face like that?

Well, it is time for her noon walk. A mother's work is never done!
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