Wordless Wednesday, I think not!

Today my dear friends, I'm shouting for JOY! We'll be picking up our missionary from the airport this afternoon and I'm so excited I can't hardly contain myself! Yep, after two years of faithful service our Mexican speaking boy is coming home!!! If I'm not around much in the next couple of weeks.... well, I hope you'll understand.

What's in your wallet...er purse?

Earlier today I was over at Kelley's break room having a diet coke and listening to her talk about being a loser her whole life.....of things. She's a funny girl but I just couldn't relate. You see, I'm not a loser...of things, actually I'm quite the opposite.

I'm the one everybody comes to when they can't find anything. "Mom, where's my.....?"
"Sweetie, have you seen my......?"  Without fail, I always find what they are looking for.

Why I bring this up is, while I was visiting with Kelley I commented that even though I'm not a loser of things I
have this problem of switching out my purses depending on what outfit I'm wearing. My purse consist of all the basic necessities, short of having the kitchen sink.

While we're out and about, the husband will ask me for a piece of gum, something I usually carry in my purse.
"Oh sorry honey, it's in the other purse." Or perhaps, some Ibuprofen, "Ooh, it's in the other purse." Just last Saturday we were going for a horse ride and I asked him for his set of trailer keys. He looked at me like where's mine. I read his look and said, "Other purse."

So today while I was driving around I stopped at the pet store to pick up cat food, cat treats and some litter. I got up to check stand ready to pay and I couldn't find my wallet. I'm digging around the gum, ibuprofen
Kleenex, extra keys and this time, I believe I actually had the kitchen sink. Unfortunately she didn't want what I had to offer, she wanted money. Well I couldn't even find a spare credit card laying at the bottom, which wouldn't matter anyhow because I didn't have my drivers license to prove the card belonged to me.

Finally I stopped digging, looked at the patient checker and said, "Other purse."

You know ol', what's his name...

The husband and I were driving down the road and I was trying to tell him about a guy I saw in a truck that both he and his dad know:

Me: Hey I saw, oh I can't remember his name but he's your dads friend that always wears that straw cowboy hat with the gray hair. Short guy, hangs around your dad's shop, ah what's his name?

Husband: Tom?

Me: No it's not Tom, you know he gets those big landscape rocks, wears that cowboy hat.

Husband: Tom Rhomas?

Me: No it's not Tom, who is Tom anyway? Come on you know he has that long gray hair, ah what's his name?

Husband: Are you sure it's not Tom?

Me getting frustrated: Honneee, (with an empathise on the nee part) get Tom off your brain, it's not Tom. I think we used to call him Rock Man Ron or something like that, wears a straw hat.

Husband: It's not Tom Rhomas?

Me all riled up: Oh my gosh!  Honey, It's not Tom can you just work with me here I know you know him.

Me determined: Honey, he's got that girlfriend...yada, yada yada, His daughter is the same age as our son, yada, yada, yada. He lives by my old school building.


On and on I continue to describe this man and all the husband can say is: Are you sure it's not Tom Rhomas?

A quite pause between us and I'm thinking, "Why is he not getting this?" Then the light bulb goes off and I'm the one finally getting it.

Me: Oh my gosh, it's Ron Thomas ( as I whack him in the arm)

Me: Tom Rhomas, Oh my gosh I can't believe you, (I whack him again as I'm laughing) Tom Rhomas, oh my gosh!

Husband looking at me with a half grin: What about him?

Me still laughing: He wasn't wearing his cowboy hat.

A letter for the author of the book, "The Beagle"

Dear Diane Morgan and Wayne Hunthausen, D.V.M. consulting Veterinary editor,

Upon reading your book "The Beagle" you know, because we have one and value any information regarding  what makes these dogs tick, I came across chapter 2 page 31 regarding the characteristics of a Beagle. Under the Taste category where it states and I quote, "You may notice that your Beagle eats everything rather indiscriminately."

As I read further I learned that dogs have fewer taste buds than people. I also learned that their taste buds are located farther back in the oral cavity along with a few going down the throat.

So all in all what you are trying to say is, the Beagle tastes his food as he swallows it, not before.

Anyway, allow me to quote you again, "Beagles are pretty indiscriminate in their tasting habits. Dog food companies won't even use Beagles in their taste test because these dogs don't care if they are eating gourmet food or garbage."

Well, well, I'm writing this letter informing you I think otherwise, actually I KNOW otherwise. You see our Beagle, whose name won't be mentioned, OK his name is Archie, but that's beside the point.

 The point is, it's true Archie will inhale garbage and I believe he enjoys every foul aspect of it, but what's not true is, he is discriminate of what he eats.

Find it hard to believe? You should  because you wrote the book with all your knowledge and research but you failed to interview me. Had Archie been considered in you research you would have found there is a food he won't eat. That's right Diane and Dr. Hunthausen, our Beagle will not eat Rhubarb.

Go figure, I bet you never even considered using rhubarb in your taste test.

Wherever his taste buds lie whether they are in the back of his throat or the front, and in his case I think he has a few in the front because  the rhubarb won't even make down his throat before he spits it out, the dog has discriminated against the tart stalk.

I'm informing you so you can revise your book with this updated information. Go ahead and thank me.

Sincerely,
Archie's chef and caretaker

Wordless Wednesday........

 

Shhhhhh, don't say a word...I know it's really Thursday......