This past weekend, Phil and I went up to his parent’s lake house to fish. While we were there, I noticed this little Anole chilling on the porch and took a picture of him. Being spring and all, I’m surprised he was brown instead of green.

He wouldn’t let me get too close to him, so I credit my camera with the nice crisp clean shot that I got. I swear he was posing for me. He kept turning his head in different directions, as if he were saying, “This is my better side.” After his photo session was done, he crawled in between the screen and the wood.

Here’s an update on the garden, if you’re into that sort of thing. I had thought that it hadn’t grown that much in a week, but when I looked back at the old picture – I could see the growth.

Grow Garden Grow!

I was a little too happy to find this tomato.

This little cucumber must have been growing for days, but I didn’t see him because he was hiding under a leaf. He’s about two or so inches long.

My blackberry bushes have flowered and are now starting to produce berries. They are all green berries at the moment, but they’ll turn red and then black soon. I can’t wait. I love blackberries.

My little kitty, Morgan, is always hungry.  She climbs the screen on the door when she’s starving.

Another self portrait. I think I look better in black and white.

I thought I would go ahead and put up some of the pictures of the garden that Phil helped me put together. Well, help is an understatement. He practically broke his back getting the soil prepared for my baby plants. Gardening is hard work, that’s for sure. It took us the better part of two days to get the garden up and running.

Phil keeps reminding me that this whole garden idea was supposed to be a few plants on his patio, not a freaking farm. My response to him is that he shouldn’t have encouraged me as I held three greenhouses capable of holding 216 seeds(and then some) in Lowe’s one Saturday afternoon. 🙂 Everything I do, starts small and then grows into something completely uncontrollable. I know this, and so should he. It’s all a part of being Gabe and in some cases, knowing Gabe.

Phil dug and that entire plot of land and then decided that a tiller would be a good idea. We rented ours from Home Depot for four hours and it ended up costing something like $40.00. Not too bad really. And had the tiller died, I would have only had to pay $3.00. Also, not too bad.

I don’t work him hard to kill him. I work him hard to make him strong! You should have seen him working that tiller. It shook him like he was a rag doll. His muscles hurt for a week.

Ah, everything is planted. Well, the plants that would fit that is. When I took this picture, there were probably another 100 plants sitting behind me. Yes, 100.

A few weeks later . . . I was afraid that my plants might not do very well in the clay, but I think they’ve done okay. I’m sure next years crop will do even better.

This is where some of the extra plants went, but I still have some more, about another 30 or so. If you live near me and you want some tomato plants, contact me and they are all yours.

Morgan Rose Ireland Yvette DeWitter. I love my kitty! She won’t eat dry food anymore. I’ve now got to shell out the money for gourmet wet food. She’s 15 years old, she deserves it.

This is Dopple, one of Morgan’s boyfriends. She has two more that visit her pretty regularly. Dopple is an enormously fat cat that reminds me of Garfield. He’s very adorable and loves to get his belly rubbed. I just hate that he constantly tries to steal Morgan’s food.

Me. I think I look a lot like my father in this picture.

I’m a thief. I so stole this off of Flickr. I don’t know why, but I really, really like this photo. The colors are great and there is something about that door in the background that is intriguing. And I just love how one of the ears on the dog is up, and the other is down. Even the chairs are nicely arranged. I wish I could take such an awesome photograph.

Phil and I wondered off into the middle of nowhere and found ourselves at Goodale State Park. We thought we were going somewhere new, but as soon as we entered the gates, we discovered we had been there several years ago. It’s a pretty place and it’s free, so we weren’t too terribly upset.

We walked down to the water to get some pictures of the really unique trees, when we noticed that the grass was moving. At first, I thought what I was seeing was lots of insects jumping around, but then I figured it out. The grass was alive with hundreds of little, itty, bitty, baby frogs. We actually had to stand in one place, for we were afraid that one step would smush four or five of the little critters.

I bent down and picked one up, and had Phil take a few pictures. It was quite difficult. The little frog kept wanting to jump off my hand or up my arm. I don’t blame him, though. He probably thought I was trying to eat him.

He finally sat still long enough for Phil to get a half decent photo, but it took a number of tries. Thank goodness I have a digital camera, or I would have wasted a roll of film.

“Oh, please, don’t squish me, ” the little frog said.

You are just going to have to forgive me. I’m a tomboy and I like to play in the dirt. Focus on the frog, and forget the dirt under my nails.

Another week, another set of pictures of my baby plants. This week, I actually have some pictures of the green pepper plants. I have no idea why it took them three weeks to sprout. It was only supposed to take about 7 days like all of the others. Of the 18 that we planted, about 14 of them are now visible. Phil’s watermelon seeds sprouted, too. I didn’t think that they would for some reason, but they proved me wrong. I can’t wait until the plants grow up and start yielding a crop.

Cucumbers

Week 3

Snow Peas

Week 3

Green Beans

Week 3

Tomatoes

Week 3

Cantaloupe

Week 3

Green Peppers

Week 3

Watermelon

Week 3

If you know me just a little bit, you should know how I feel about man’s best friend and why. I never really wrote about it on this blog, and I sorta wish that I had. It would have made this blog a bit more interesting, I think. For those of you who have no idea how I feel about dogs and why – here is a one sentence explanation why.

I worked at Bermex for 8 months as a meter reader, and every day a dog tried to eat/kill me.

When I tell people I willingly ate dog in China, people tend to think I am crazy, sick, or both, but it never stops them from asking how dogs tastes. When dog was placed on my dinner plate in China, all I could think was, “Revenge! It is mine!!”

I’m not exaggerating. And if for some reason you think I am, stop what you are doing, find out who handles gas and/or electric meter reading in your area, apply, get hired, and if you last one month – I’ll applaud you. What? Did you think I was going to give you a prize or something.

Anyway, I digress. This post is supposed to be about China and a dog. This story is short, but sweet.

One night, in Shenyang, Phil and I were walking back to our apartment from a restaurant where we had just had dinner. It was still very cold at this time. A lot of the snow and ice from the worst winter storm in 50 years was still piled in places. It made walking a bit hazardous. On several occasions, I nearly busted my white American ass.

While we were walking, we noticed a little dog was following not to far behind us. This is not a to uncommon occurrence in China. Dogs walk around like they are people all the time – even looking both ways before they cross the street. Sounds strange, but I’ve seen them do it. It wasn’t any special kind of breed. It looked like a mutt to me.

The little dog followed us several blocks down the street until we got to the entrance to our apartment. Of all the places we lived in China, this place had the fanciest entrance – a revolving door. Such luxury, huh? Hehe. When we got to this door, I looked back at the little dog, and told him goodbye. I often talk to animals, even though they can’t understand me. Phil thinks I am nuts. He stopped behind us and watched as we stepped in and pushed the door.

I kid you not, as soon as the next available space got back to him, he stepped in and followed us into the lobby. I looked down at him and said, “Your not supposed to be in here. Get back outside.”

Our fancy revolving door looked a little like this, except that it wasn’t all swirly like that.

The dog looked at me, barked once or twice, and sat down. I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I felt partially responsible that he was sitting in the lobby. I did speak to him, after all. The “security guard” didn’t seem to mind that a dog was chilling in his lobby. Thinking about it now, he may have been taking a nap.

I tried coaxing the dog outside, but he wasn’t budging. If the market right next to the apartment hadn’t been closed, I would have tempted him with something tasty. Nothing I did worked. The dog just continued to look up at me. If possible, I would say he had a confused look on his face.

A few minutes later, a man pushed his way through the revolving door. The man looked over at us and said something in Chinese, probably, “Come along little doggy.” The immediately perked and started following through the lobby. The guy opened the door to the security office and the dog followed in right after him.

I guess the dog knew where he was going after all. He was just waiting for his owner to show up.

Phil and I laughed all the way up to our unlucky 14th floor. You really had to be there to see it.

I finally finished my cross-stitching project,

and I found the perfect kitty to model it for you.

My evil kitty, Morgan is sporting the cross-stitched

Cookie Monster that I made for my new Nephew, Seth.

You have absolutely no idea how hard it was to get this one picture of her. She was hissing and growling at me the entire time. After I got this one half decent picture, she laid down and would not get back up. She sprouted horns and a pitch fork and told me to go to hell. Don’t let that innocent looking face fool you. She’s the freaking devil.

But I love my little furry devil, anyway. And she still loves me even though I made her wear Cookie Monster around her neck so that I could write something for my blog. I know because she told me so.

I speak fluent Cat, if you didn’t know. 🙂

It’s a beautiful day outside. Blue skies. About 65 degrees. Couldn’t ask for much more on a late December day. I guess tonight, I am going to go over to Phil’s and watch the ball drop. He can’t come to my house because he’s allergic to my kitty, Morgan Rose Ireland Yvette DeWitter. He loves her, but she just makes him sneeze like mad. I’ve thought about buying stock in Kleenex – he goes through about a box a day. Poor, poor, Philby.

We haven’t bought any fireworks. Or any hard liquor. Not even streamers, poppers or hats. It’ll just be the two of us eating left over lamb as we watch the ball take its yearly plunge. We won’t have much of a party, I guess. Perhaps, we’re just getting too old for that stuff. Ha. Ha. Ha. Just as long as the cable works until midnight, everything will be okay.

Oh, and I have my interview for the Human Services position out in Eastover on the 3rd. Wish me luck. If I don’t get a job in the next few days, I’m going to have to sell my soul to the devil or something and I’d rather not.

1.  I am still jobless.
2.  I am working on a very long post about a trip I had to a Chinese hospital.
3.  During my spare time, which happens to be a lot, I’ve been taking out all of my frustration by killing people playing a game called Battlefield 2142.  I’m actually not that bad.
4.  I’m about to leave the house and go Dork for a few hours.  For those of you who don’t know, Dork is my code word for playing DnD.  And for those of you who don’t know what DnD means – well, you may be better off.  My Mom tells me it has something to do with worshiping Satan or something like that. 
5.  I was actually offered a part time, $20 an hour job, but the contract they wanted me to sign was so wickety wack that I had to politely turn them down.  They of course weren’t very happy.  They said a lot of mean things to me in their nicest tone, and it was then that I realized I made a very good decision. 
6.  My kitty, Morgan Rose Ireland Yvette DeWitter, is giving me that look, so I better go feed her before she attempts to eat my soul or something again.  Last time, I barely survived.