MEET MY NEW GRANDBABY

Gentle Readers,

Favorite Young Man and Little Chick have presented me with the loveliest gift: a new granddaughter.

F.Y.M. has already given me Stella to love. She stays with me when he has to go out of town. American Bulldog + Boxer = Adorable Underbite

Here's Stella out partying.

But then last week F.Y.M. got home from work rather late one day. He decided to walk up the street near his house to get a slice of pizza. In the distance, he saw a puppy walking behind a couple and thought she might be on a lead.

But a few minutes later the couple walked on and the puppy didn't. Then he saw the puppy in a parking lot. She was filthy, incredibly thin, and wearing a dirty strip of cloth around her neck that was obviously way too tight. It might have been a bandanna at one time. He befriended her and picked her up and took her home with him. He said, I couldn't just go off and leave her.

Don't you love that? How many people passed that puppy and just left her? But not F.Y.M.

F.Y.M. got the cloth off the baby's neck, bathed her, and gave her a healthy meal.

Here's what she looked like at first:

 You can see the bones sticking out of her back and sides. The white piece around her neck is a bandage because the cloth had become embedded in her skin.

Here's her neck after about a week of tender loving care. I know it looks nasty, but believe me, it was much worse.

And now see how she's improved after such a short time. She's starting to fill out a bit, and one of these days, she might even grow into those German Shepherd ears of hers.

Favorite Young Man tends to the young lady every evening and gets up with her at night because babies have to go potty frequently. I suggested he put her in her crate at night so he could get some sleep, but he said No, she already has to spend too much time in her crate.

Little Chick usually works nights, so she checks in on the baby during the day and is training her with praise, not punishment. Little Chick says the baby will have to learn soon that she isn't a lap dog.

I think it's safe to say we're all in love with her. She barely knows me, but she sits on my lap and kisses me.

Her name is Liesl.

Infinities of love and Liesl,

Lola

And they lived happily ever after.


*NOTE: Please beware of putting a collar or anything else on an animal that could become too tight. Check for correct collar size frequently so you aren't shocked to discover that a collar or something else is embedded in your pet's skin.

MY FRANKLIN, MY LOVE

Gentle Readers,

At the end of October, it will be one year since Franklin joined our family. He has endeared himself to me in so many ways.

Here's a favorite: When he's really happy, for example, if I've been gone for as long as an entire hour and returned home to his joy-filled greeting, after we kiss and hug and say hello, as I walk through the house, he pushes past the other boys to get to my right side. He takes the fingers of my right hand in his mouth.

He doesn't bite; he doesn't nip.

He simply holds my fingers as if his mouth is the hand he wishes he could place in mine.

He's so happy to see me when I awake in the morning, as if he thought I would remain asleep forever. He got in bed with me once for about 30 seconds. He's never done that again, but when I wake up, he stands up at the side of the bed, tail wagging, tongue outstretched to kiss me good morning, huge smile spreading across his face.

He's incredibly sensitive. If I let even one tear flow, he's next to me immediately with his quizzical look, wondering how he can help.

When we watch a movie or read, he sits next to me. I put my arm around him until his head drops to the arm rest of the chair. Then we gaze into each other's eyes. Then I kiss the white streak on his forehead. Then I kiss his doggie lips. I say, I love you. I look into his eyes some more and feel his love for me.

When I adopted Franklin, I knew he couldn't replace the great love of my life, Faulkner. But Franklin is damn close to Faulkner level. Very damn close.

Franklin and Harper and Scout remind me every single day why Dog is God spelled backwards.

Infinities of Franklin love,

Lola

 Simply irresistible.

WHAT! MONDAY

Gentle Readers,

I think you'll find today's What? Monday question enjoyable. Drum roll, please.

ratatatatatatatatatat

WHAT IS THE FUNNIEST MOVIE YOU HAVE EVER SEEN?

As usual, it's o.k. to give more than one answer. It's difficult to pick just one of anything.

Maybe I tend to enjoy somewhat lowbrow humor, but my favorite movie for quite some time was Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery. Then last year Get Him To The Greek came out and I fell seriously in love with Russell Brand. His Aldous Snow topped Austin Powers.

However, I also enjoy movies that aren't so in your face funny. I absolutely adore The Royal Tennenbaums. Everybody in that movie is hilarious.

O.K. It's your turn to answer.

Infinities of love,

Lola

MS. LOLA PAYS A CALL ON MISS CINDERITA

Gentle Readers,

What are you doing here? Get your asses over to Cinderita's and do it NOW.

I hate to be so bossy -- well, no, it actually doesn't bother me in the least -- but I told you I'd be guest posting at Cinderita's today. The post is about gratitude. I'll be very grateful if you leave comments there and give me your bloggy love.

Infinities of love,

Lola

GO TO THE ADVENTURES OF CINDERITA, PLEASE. I'M NOT GOING TO ASK SO NICELY IF I HAVE TO BRING IT UP AGAIN.

THE BLACK HISTORY OF THE WHITE HOUSE

Gentle Readers,

After lecturing you about history yesterday, I have an excellent book to recommend from which I learned a great deal. It's The Black History of the White House by Clarence Lusane. It's one of the books I bought at City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco and it was published by City Lights.

I knew that some of our earliest presidents owned slaves. I did not know how many of them owned slaves. I did not know that some of those presidents took slaves to The White House with them.

Now I know because Dr. Lusane told me.

Lusane traces the history of black people in The White House from slave labor used to build the place to the Obama family moving in. I was particularly interested in stories of slaves who escaped from The White House and information about black leaders who ran for president before Barak Obama. I had nearly forgotten Shirley Chisholm.

One strange thing about this book is that it was poorly edited/proofread. I don't have any disagreements with the facts Lusane presents, but the book has an unusually large number of what we used to call typos. After one sentence, I even found the word "Cite" that someone obviously put in as a reminder that a citation needed to be added. It wasn't.

But I really liked the book.

Infinities of love,

Lola


TOMORROW IS THE BIG DAY -- MY DEBUT GUEST POSTING AT THE ADVENTURES OF CINDERITA. BE THERE OR BE SQUARE. LOVE ME, LOVE ME, SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME, BUT SAY IT OVER AT CINDERITA'S TOMORROW.

WHAT? MONDAY

Gentle Readers,

I've decided to start a new feature that will appear every Monday if I remember to do it. I'm going to ask a question that I will answer myself, and then I hope you'll answer it too. It will help us learn more about each other and besides I'm one nosy bitch. It will also get our brains in thinking mode for the week. Remember, now, every Monday be prepared for this feature, which I will continue to do if I feel like it.

I think the first question is an easy one, though I've found in the past that some people cannot make up their minds about the simplest freaking things have difficulty choosing a single answer; therefore, if you like, tell us your two or three top choices.

And the question is

What is your all-time favorite book?

 It can be your favorite childhood book, fiction, non-fiction, poetry, cookbook, coffee table book. Remember Kramer's coffee table book about coffee tables on Seinfeld? It could even be that book.

As a highbrow English major, my Numero Uno favorite book is The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, with A Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man by James Joyce a close second and The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner an even closer third. 


Fitzgerald is so clean and perfect. Gatsby does not have a single wasted word, and the style if lyrical.

I also love everything Jane Austen wrote, some contemporary fiction, and lots of non-fiction that helps me learn my history. My favorite poets are Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath.

Now I hope you'll answer the question, too, or "Daddy, Daddy, you bastard, I'm through."

Infinities of love,

Lola

CECIL THE SEASICK SEA SERPENT

Gentle Readers,

Does anyone remember Cecil the Seasick Sea Serpent? It was a cartoon that was on TV when I was really little. I had a red Cecil suitcase. Very small, so I couldn't take much loot with me if I decided to run away from home.

Several months ago, I told you how freaked out I was by a creature that was in my second bedroom -- the one I use as my office. I was too upset to say what kind of critter it was, and I'm still too upset; so we'll say it was a sea serpent.

The critter disappeared and I never found it, dead or alive.

Last weekend, I went in the office and there the same critter was on the floor by the bed (the office doubles as my guest room). Was it the same sea serpent, a brand new sea serpent, or a descendant of the first sea serpent?

Anyhoo, I tried to whack it with a box, but it ran under the bed. I got the broom, intending to force the little monster out, but he had outfoxed me again and disappeared.

Move forward in time two hours: I fix my supper and go to the family room to eat in front of the TV because who wants to eat all alone at a dining room table? And there is said serpent in my chair, actually on the pillow I use to cushion my aching back.

I squealed and the dogs looked alarmed. What to do? Oh, what to do? If I ran to get something to kill said serpent, he would be gone by the time I got back. So screaming Banzai, I stabbed him with my dinner fork. He fell off the pillow onto his back. I watched him carefully, just in case he was playing possum. When I knew he was most definitely dead, I got the vacuum cleaner and sucked up my serpent.

Then yesterday I decided to vacuum the entire house. I opened the vacuum to make sure the bag wasn't full and oh my goodness the stench! I had forgotten the serpent and he'd been rotting in there all week. I quickly threw out the bag and replaced it. When I first turned on the vacuum, everything smelled of decomposing sea serpent, but the odor dissipated after a few minutes.

Please, Dear Lord, deliver me from Moby Dick. No more monsters in the house. Just dogs and me.

Oh, but the good thing is that my dinner was unusually delicious with sea serpent guts on my fork.

Infinities of love,

Lola

MILE HIGH LOLA

Gentle Readers,

We are up to 25 followers. Can you believe how quickly this has happened? I thank every one of you who referred someone to me and those of you who followed me after I followed you and those of you who showed up of your own volition, maybe because you had nothing better to do. It's all good Mama.

I'm so happy that I came right out of the closet and said I wanted more followers. It reminds me of a song I used to teach my Sunday School students, and yes, I know it's scary that I taught Sunday School and Vacation Bible School, but as far as I know I didn't cause permanent damage to any children. Anyhoo, the chorus of the song went like this:

• 
  

If you will ask, it will be given to you.
If you will seek, the Lord will help you find.
If you will knock, the door will open to you
Because God gives good gifts to those who ask him to. 

I also went out on a limb and risked the bough breaking and the cradle falling and down will come Lola (isn't that a creepy song for little kids when you think about it?) when I asked Cinderita if I could write a guest post for her. She could have said no. I would have been disappointed, but I would have lived. We have to risk failure sometimes to get what we want, and happily, Cinderita said yes. So,

NEXT FRIDAY IS A VERY IMPORTANT DAY! I GUEST POST AT The Adventures of Cinderita.  YES, I KNOW THAT PREVIOUSLY THIS MESSAGE SAID I WOULD GUEST POST TOMORROW. BUT BECAUSE OF TECHNICAL GLITCHES, MY DEBUT IS DELAYED. 

I know it might seem kind of strange to you that a woman of my age  considerable experience could be a virgin at anything, but I am a virgin guest poster. Please be gentle with me next week. Hold me as you would the finest china. Go to Cinderita's blog and read my post and leave me some love there so Cinderita knows that there are people in the world who like me! Who really like me! And remember, it will be NEXT Friday, not tomorrow.

Now let's get down to posting. Life 101 wrote a post on Tuesday about some folks who on 9/11, on a commercial airliner, in the bathroom, caused a considerable amount of trouble because they got caught  attempting to? or actually did? join The Mile High Club.

I have been confused by The Mile High Club for many years. I am most definitely not a member, and I strongly suspect that the club is a joke that doesn't really exist. If you want to tell me I'm wrong and you know the club exists because you belong, then feel free to write a comment complete with details that make everybody scream TMI, and I promise nobody will snicker at you (yeah, right).

Let's be logical about going in the bathroom of an airplane. I don't use airplane bathrooms unless I absolutely must. The water in the toilet is way too blue, for one thing, and for another, you open the nasty folding door and you slither into the bathroom and then you pretty much have to press yourself against the toilet to close the door. It's rather difficult to walk in and turn around to close the door. There is not enough room to turn around comfortably.

If it's difficult for one person to get in an airplane bathroom, then how could two people get in there? Did the guy drop to his knees and the woman rode in on his shoulders? Did one of them stand on the toilet seat while the other squeezed in (oh gross, what if your foot slipped and ended up in the blue water?)? Were they really skinny contortionists? You tell me how it's done. I always found it difficult to get into an airplane bathroom with a tiny toddler.

Now let's assume that somehow the two of them got into the bathroom, which apparently, actually happened. Once the two are in that teeny-tiny space, uh, how do they manage to do it? There's barely enough room for one woman to get her pants down. How do two people have enough room to get their pants down? And then do they bump uglies standing up? That would be so uncomfortable, and I can see how those people got caught if that's what they did. Somebody would be banging (intentional use of pun) up against the door as the act occurred. I think that would alert the plane's staff pretty quickly.

Another possibility, and this is so disgusting, is that one person sits on the toilet and the other person is on his knees, and I just don't want to think about the rest. 

Or maybe somebody put her bare butt on the sink . . .  This is something people want to do because it's sexy? Oh puh-lease.

I could go on and on and on because I am Lola and I have so much to say, but I'll try to stop for now. 

I'll just make an even greater effort to stay out of airplane bathrooms because who knows what has gone on in there besides peeing?

Infinities of love,

Lola

Seriously: I want to know if The Mile High Club is for real and how doin' the nasty in that tiny stinky disgusting space is accomplished and why would anyone want to? Are there people in first class shit-faced enough from the free liquor to actually think woo-hooing in the toilet is sexy? You get off the plane after a while. You go home and get in your nice comfy bed. Or, if necessary, go to a hotel. Or if you're that desperate, drive the Chevy onto a back road and climb in the back seat. A back seat would be more comfortable than an airplane bathroom. I think I'm really finished now, so good night.

 

SQUEALS OF DELIGHT

Gentle Readers,

I can see my followers again and there are 20 of you!

Whoo hoo! I love seeing your smiling faces and Mrs. Tuna's dog and LegalMist's mist. I hope it keeps working, and thank you to all the new followers who have joined us.

Infinities of love,

Lola

Waaaaaa! Right after I posted what I wrote above, you were all gone again. But at least I know we are now an army of 20 (including me).

LORDY LORDY

Gentle Readers,

In just the last minute or so I shot up to 18 followers! Thank you all.

Look out world! Here comes Lola!

Infinities of love,

Lola

I LOVE YOU

Gentle Readers,

I am so happy. Just that little bit of whining and I already have four new followers!

Keep it comin' on (I'm singing) Keep it comin' on
Don't stop it now
Don't stop it now

Somehow I don't think that song is about new followers (and sadly I still cannot see you my darlings), but it represents how I feel.

I promise I'll get down to the really important business soon of reporting on my holiday.

Here are some hints about where I went: There were hills and big bridges. I can't afford to live there. The weather was beautiful. It was in the U.S. of A.

Infinities of love,

Lola

MY SMILE IS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN

Yes, Gentle Readers, it's true: I'm frowning. I don't like it that stuff is disappearing from my blog. LegalMist says she can see my followers, but I can't see you; and seeing you, all 13 of you (including me) makes my day. I received an email from amazon about their stuff no longer working and I told them how I've taken everything off my blog and then installed it again and it works for a little while and then it quits again, and amazon was like go to the link and install everything again. I Did That! I Said I Did That! They don't even really read my emails. Amazon should appreciate me. I think they've gotten at least three orders through recommendations on my blog, and only one was my order. So TWO orders! What's wrong with you fuckers at amazon? Show me some love!

And speaking of love: Gentle Readers, you know I adore you, but how come you have so many followers and I only have 13 (including me)? You keep telling me how funny and interesting I am, but my own family members won't even follow me. So what if I say pissy things about them? The pissy stuff is funny, and they should be grateful that I've turned them into jokes. My BFF doesn't follow me. I only say nice things about her. I think she doesn't know how to follow me, and I understand that sometimes things are confusing. I visited Lola is 40 today (not me, another Lola), and I had to send her an email and ask how to follow her. I don't want to follow her on twitter; I just want to be a regular follower. I couldn't find the place to click to just be a regular follower. Maybe about 150 people want to follow me, but they don't know how.

Probably not.

My dogs don't follow me.

Look at that big fuckin' lazy dog, has time to sniff a nasty stinky poopy baby, but can that dog be bothered to follow me?

Hell Noooooo.

So I'm just not feeling loved, especially since my anniversary was not too long ago, and anniversary time is so depressing for a dumped first wife.

But I love you all very much. I even love all the people who should follow me and don't.

Infinities of love,

Lola

MY BELOVED FOLLOWERS

Gentle Readers,

I don't know what's wrong with my blog, but the photos of you, my gentle readers, are gone. My amazon.com links also don't work.

I looked at blogger's problems discussion, and a number of people said their followers had disappeared. Someone said it had been fixed, but then many people said, Oh no it hasn't.

I emailed amazon associates to try to learn why they're freezing me out.

What problems do you have with blogger and what have you found to be helpful in getting your problems fixed? I find that the chat sections and FAQs are of little help.

Infinities of love,

Lola

CINDERITAVILLE

Gentle Readers,

Now that I have all of you depressed and terrified with the story of my broken back, I hope you'll spend some time this weekend checking out our very positive friend, Cinderita. She will help you feel better: I promise. And the particular post to which I've provided a link compliments a number of bloggers and one is named Lola. Could it be moi?

I don't know, but if it's not me, I think I'd better do more sucking up so I've rewritten some song lyrics in honor (actually I should write honour because she's Canadian) of Cinderita:

Happy again to be at Cinderitaville.
Even found my lost shaker of salt.
Some people claim the world's improved and we have Rita to thank,
And we know
It's because of her hugs.


I hope you have a lovely long weekend.

Infinities of love,

Lola