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First Book in Our Doll Making Series

This is a first in a series of doll making books that encompass the knowledge of Mary Tressler and the eclectic mind of Michelle Lord. Click the image to learn more.



The other day my two pound Chihuahua Sassy thought it would be smart to get in the middle of a cat/dog fight between her bigger and older mother, brother, and our goofy cat.  They normally all get along, but every once in a while the cat feels the need to attack and instead of staying out of the fight, little Miss Sassy decided she needed to get in the middle of the fight.  She ended up with a sliver of the cat’s claw stuck in her head.  I was able to pull the sliver out with the tweezers and then doctored her head.  She now has a huge shiner for her trouble.  Of course the above picture was very doctored to be funny; she looks like the photo below.  We got lucky that the claw didn’t end up in one of her bug eyes or the little hole on the top of her head where the skull never closed correctly.  I threatened many years ago to make her a helmet, as she has always thought she was an 80 pound Rottweiler, but instead had to make her a muzzle for when we go out in public, because you never know when she is going to get nippy and people automatically think she is cute and try to pet her, so the muzzle stops them in their tracks.  Normally, the first thing people will say is she is so cute and little, why does she need a muzzle?  Well, she is a bi-polar two pound Chihuahua who thinks she is huge and I never know who she will like, so for both our protection, she gets to wear a muzzle.  You would think the older she gets the less hostile she would be, but she will be nine years old in April, and she has gotten more fearless the older she gets.

Many years ago my son had a pit bull named Snoop, who really was the sweetest, but dumbest dog you could ever want.  He never tried to attack anyone.  Sassy decided one day to growl at Snoop and then jump up and clamp onto his neck skin that hung under his chin.  She ended up swinging back and forth growling the whole time and the only thing Snoop did was look at us with one of those “help me” looks.  Sassy has acted like this ever since.  It doesn’t matter how big the other dog is, she feels the need to mark her territory and defend it to the end.  The problem is she always gets the worst of the fight.  The other animals always walk away, and I am having to doctor Sassy’s wounds.  I ended up having to find a new home for her sister as the minute they would be in a room together the fight was on.  I tried for a year to get them to be friends again, but the moment I thought they would be friends the fight began and Sassy of course always got the worst of it.  She is missing a small part of one ear and she now has this weird snarl because of the fighting.  I feel like a horrible pet parent, but dogs are like children, you can try to teach them the way to act, but once they get to a certain age you can just forget about it, as they do what they want.

What I find interesting is how small people, especially short men, feel like they have to take on the biggest guy in the room.  I have always heard of this being called “short man syndrome,” and the sad part of it is a lot of the shorter men I know have it.  It is like they need to make up for their size by acting big and bad.  I mean you should be happy with who you are and be comfortable in your own skin.  Starting fights, acting like a bully, or whatever doesn’t make you look any bigger, it just makes you look like a fool and normally you are the one who ends up going to the hospital whether it be the doggie or human type.  So, don’t worry about Sassy, she is doing fine, she just needs to get over herself…LOL… till next time…


ImageI am one of those girls whose mother wouldn’t let me near the kitchen and when it came time to get married and become a housewife, well I didn’t have a clue.  I could barely cook or clean.  I have now been married over 34 years and can cook just about everything, but can’t say I ever learned to clean.  I wish they made a self-cleaning house, as I would beg, borrow and steal to get that house, but that is for a different post.  The first year I was married I decided to make a strawberry pie.  No big deal.  You cut up the strawberries, put them in the strawberry gel, and then throw into a pie crust and top with whipped cream.  No big deal.  Well, I had no idea I needed to cook the frozen pie crust.  I was used to graham cracker crusts that are ready to use, but this was a flour based crust that had to be cooked first.  To this day I still hear about that strawberry pie.  About the same time I tried making a cake and when I turned the pan over it stuck and by the time I got it out of the pan I had to throw the pieces into a bowl and then pour the frosting over it.  This became known as my cake in a bowl.  It tasted fine, but was a mess to eat.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to make a spice cake with cream cheese frosting.  I pulled my Bundt cake pan out, sprayed it with oil, and poured my cake batter into it.  When it came time to turn the pan over and put the finished cake onto the plate, well the stupid cake stuck to the pan.  After some cajoling I was able to get most of the cake out, but ended up with pieces I just put in the middle of the cake.  I stood there trying to figure out how to ice this mess of a cake and decided to put the container of icing into the microwave for a few seconds and then just poured it over the cake.  I must admit it really was a good cake once you got past the looks of it.  I really thought my days of cake in a bowl were gone, but it goes to show that no matter how old you get or how experienced you are Murphy’s Law has a way of making itself known. 

I do find it interesting though that after 50 years on this earth I have finally figured out how to pick an avocado.  I would never buy them and make guacamole because I could never figure out how to pick an avocado soft enough to even get the inner part out and mashed into a bowl.  I decided I wanted to make guacamole so bought three avocados, one hard, one really soft, and one in the middle.  The really soft one was brown inside, so it got tossed, the hard one was too hard to use, but the middle of the road one worked just fine, so now I finally figured out how to pick a good avocado.  So, I guess I prove the old adage that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks is a bunch of hooey…

I guess maybe it is time to learn how to clean my house, but maybe not….till next time…

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