I found some old photos

Roo and I planted...Well, I directed, and Roo planted this garden last August. He did all of the digging and I mixed topsoil and pete moss. Fun times. He's proud of his work and I think it deserves some attention. We also randomly added about 150-200 bulbs so this 20 foot x 6 foot patch of Earth will be blooming like crazy come Springtime. I'm so happy!

Raven has a bone to pick

Several, actually. I spent this afternoon at my desk. I organized. I filed. I shredded. I turned around after 2 hours to see that Raven had been working hard too. She's very sneaky, and she moves fast. I have no idea where she found all of these, but it makes a fun picture.





Roo and I CANNOT wait for warmer weather. We're both really excited to take Raven back to the dog park. She's like a teenager being dropped off at the mall. We let her off the leash, she runs as fast as she can to get away from us and I know she must be thinking something like "OK, whatever, BYE Mom and Dad!!" We love her.

Paint bedroom, cut hair

Haha! Two things a woman can do to feel better about everything. This past weekend, Roo and I painted our room blue...BLUE blue. It's dark, and we love it. I have no pictures of it though. Come visit us if you want to see it.

I got inspired today to change my hair. It was too long, dry, frizzy, blah-ish...So I went down the street and had the nice ladies there cut off about half of it. Six inches is gone and I also got some shiny new highlights because, well, I think that highly of myself and I deserve them.
I managed to take some pictures of myself, but not of the freshly painted bedroom.

Puppy Peyton in a Canine Cone

Last Tuesday, Peyton's real Mom picked her up for her spay surgery. She came home in a classy cone. Andrew and I laughed at her for 6 days straight. She bumped into door frames, our knees, Raven, and the best part was watching her fit her cone head around her food dish. Yes, we are mean parents.



Thankfully, she is out of the cone now, and back to her normal self. She's up to a whopping 40 lbs at 21 weeks old. Raven was 40 lbs at 7 months... Peyton will be large.

We've had quite a bit of snow this week, topped off by freezing rain last night. The dogs run outside and manage to stand on top of the snow for half a second before we hear >crunch< The ice breaks and they sink down about 6 inches. They look really shocked, and then go back to romping around.

Life is good.

Attempt #2, cause I'm no quitter.

If this comes out all wopperjawed crazy, blame the system, not the author. I think I'll just post some more random pictures and you can draw your own conclusions. I'll supply the crayons.

Fostering at The Roo Zoo

Here she is. All 28.7 lbs of her. She's a lab/ hound mix, 14 weeks old. Her ears are bigger than Dumbo's and she walks like she's got bricks tied to her feet. She's a clumsy little pupster!


And here is the scrumbly-umbly-umpcious edible arrangement that appeared at my front door on my birthday! I was really surprised and suddenly, hungry. Those aren't moldy strawberries, they're covered in chocolate. :D
The other pics are all the fruit packed away. No grocery shopping for me this week! And the guts of the arrangement, 2 heads of lettuce!


Ok, after struggling for an hour to get 4 pictures up, I am done. You can unscramble the captions on your own. I have faith that you can tell the difference between a dog and fruit cut to look like flowers. I am done. Time to walk 90 lbs of dogs!

Two more days, Lady!

I signed myself up for a ladies-only gym today. You may have heard of it. It's called Curves and I l-o-v-e love it. Well, the woman who was filling out some paper work about me had to ask my age. I'm 25. BUT, I made the stupid mistake of saying "Oh, I'll be 26 on Friday." And so she wrote down 26 in the age spot. "But I'm 25 for two more days." She said it didn't matter. This was the first time I felt old. Ever. The woman filling out my paper work must have been 276. She made me feel old all because she didn't care that I was still 25. Oh, and teenagers at grocery stores call me Ma'am. It's not horrible, but it sounds bad here cause of this redneck-ish southern twang that some Ohio-ans have. So sometimes "Ma'am" sounds like a sheep is saying "Ma'a'a'a'a'a'am"

Deep breath.

Not much has changed here. Upon glancing at my sister in law's bloggy, I noticed that mine is lacking. I hope my late night nonsense makes up for it. Eh. Maybe I'll have a round of insomnia later and I'll add some more. That's all for now. My dryer buzzeth.