Those damn dogs!

So,
the other day the boy and I go to SeaWorld for the day. We had a great time. It was the middle of the week so no one was around. Then we drove our happy, very sunburned selves home to relax with the doggies.

We get home and we have a nasty note on our front door from none other the Animal Control. (Somebody really should talk to them, leaving notes on fluorescent pink paper isn't very scary. Well, actually it kinda is in a handlebar mustache 80's way) We had received a citation for the dogs "repeatedly running at large."

There is no way Lulu could "at large" anything.
And Katana's getting up there, she's not one for "repeating."

The dogs were found running in the street and cornered a neighbor and didn't allow her out of her car for 10 minutes as she feared for her life.

I immediately run over to 3 of our direct neighboors to genuinely apologize because, ohmigosh, if my dogs really did somehow get out and terrorize the neighborhood, I would really feel dreadful! No avail. 2 neighbors aren't home. The other one (not the lady who has "relations" in her pool, the one on the other side) says, "Who's dogs don't get out every once in a while" and that she saw them sitting on the grass, waiting for us to come home.

I go home and start to explain this to the boy and- BLAM BLAM BLAM. Shyt. This is probably the neighboor.

I answer the door to a half naked, chubby, frizzy haired woman with bad teeth. Before I have a chance to-

"I'M THE ONE WHO CALLED THE COPS! YOUR DOGS WERE...BLAH BLAH BLAH"

Yeah, she goes off on me. So I turn on the charm. I tell her how sorry I am, I clasp my hands to my chest and furrow my brow as I nod in apologetic sympathy. (And, I really did mean it, a 80 pound Rottie can be scary) But I eventually have to tell her that I am not sure it was my dogs since the gate was locked and there were no holes under the fence. Then the woman has the nerve to shove two 8.5X11, full color photos in my face. Like she was going to blackmail me. There, in both pictures, were my doggies, chillin in the front yard. With the front door wide open.

I tell her I can't believe how sorry I am, I can't understand how they could open a door. But then I grow a bit more angry. I ask her, why, if she'd seen these dogs out before, why she didn't stop by and let me know?

She said she didn't think it was polite to meddle.

Then, I kinda yelled at her. "What kind of a neighborhood do we live in that when somebody's animals, part of the family, are in potential danger, running in the streets, we don't immediately tell that neighbor? Since when is it socially unacceptable to let someone know that hey, they may have made a mistake and you are looking out for them?"

She left on good terms. The woman had come over to kick my butt. But she couldn't. Because I was nice and right. Sheesh.

THEN the kid from across the street comes through selling RobinWrap with mother in tow. Mother wants to know all about everything that happened. And I tell her. In a Wisteria Lane sort of way, how I feel soooo bad, and I am soooo embarrassed. Oh and do they like the new deadbolt and handle I am in the middle of installing? I'll take 3 orders of the gold foil wrap and its good to see you got the cast off your arm little Johnny, have a great night!

There is nothing like Suburban politics to bring out the little Broadway starlett in me. Mwah, hah ha!

Sweet Home Temecula

It is hot as hell here!

But I digress. And oh, there will be a lot of digressing here.

Weather first. It's v. warm all the time. At night it's really nice, we eat outside every night. In fact, we don't even have a table inside, its outside under our gazebo. I found a great hanging light in Oceanside that lights up out little outdoor dining room at night.

During the day, things are a little different. Luckily, central air is only a click away. It hits 80 by 9 and tops out from 95-105. Folks down here don't refer to the "electric" or "pg&e" bill, they call it the "air conditioning" bill. I'll post it when we get our first one.

When one moves, there are little details that are so easily forgotten. I've found a grocery store, well two actually. I know where the closest Target is. But what about a hair place? Dentist? Nail lady? Doctor?

Well, I have the important ones down, hair and nails. Still working on the others.

And oh my gosh is gas cheap down here or what?! I heard in Northern California it has gone down to the $3 mark. That's really good for the Bay Area. I pay $2.67. Shut the front door.

Work is also going well, the two ladies in the office are nice. We are close to hitting our numbers. Sales are tracked every day and we post grids and tables all over the office. The girls have also started tracking something else. They tally the number of times I say "hella." I think it's hella dumb. I use it instead of the f word or other colorful words. But whatever. If I say it less then 19 times in a week I get a "little present" from my boss. I say if I can sell hella, I can say hella.

Hey Good Lookin...

Lemme tell ya' 'bout what I got cookin'.

Once a week I go to my local Safeway(which is a pretty crappy one) and spend $100 on the week's groceries. It's funny, every week I am within $3 of my budget. Then I go home and cook. And cook and cook.

And I love it.

This little guilty pleasure of mine has been going on for a couple months. I cook and freeze food for the next week. This weekend I cooked for two weeks because of the move. This week I tried something new, however. I didn't use a single recipe. Which worked in some cases and screwed me in others. So here is my journey in the kitchen.

First up was Rice Krispie Treats. Pretty basic, Rice Krispies, Marshmallows, Butter and Chocolate-Peanut Butter Chips. Then it was on to cornbread. One batch was very simple an basic. The other I added Anaheim Peppers (not-so-spicy) and Cheddar cheese, too.

Yeah, totally forgot the whole salt thing. I'm really trying here!

So I moved on to enchiladas. For these I used ground turkey, refried beans and Cheddar cheese.

My two very authentic ingredients? Corn tortillas ($2.50 for 90!) and that Mexican spicy sauce.

Oh well. Time for chili!

New Baby in the Family!

The boy and I have a new baby. And I didn't even have to go through morning sickness!

You see, in the boy's time, B.M. (before moi), he had a dog. Circumstances lead to the dog being cared for by his mother up in Seattle. Well, this week we got word that his mom would be unable to care for said dog anymore and the boy needed to come claim his baby.

An overnight drive to Seattle in my new car yielded the delivery of our new bundle of joy.

Get this- on Tuesday the new car had 650 miles on it. By Thursday it hit 2600!

I just looked at the speedometer in this photo. Hmm.

The boy did clean the car upon arrival and is covering the next oil change, so I'm really not upset.

Her name is Katana. 7 years old, Rottweiler and Yellow Lab mix. Sweet as can be. Loud ass bark. Know a TON of tricks. Not so fun fact: Severe hip dysplasia. Actually has a plastic hip.

"In dogs, there is considerable evidence that genetics plays a large role in the development of this defect. There might be several contributing genetic factors, including a femur that does not fit correctly into the pelvic socket, or poorly developed muscles in the pelvic area. Large and giant breeds are susceptible to hip dysplasia, and Cocker spaniels and Shetland sheepdogs are also known to suffer from it...It is most common in medium-large pure bred dogs, such as German Shepherd Dogs, Labrador or Golden retrievers, Rottweilers and Mastiffs, ..."

source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hip_dysplasia#Causes_and_effects


There, see, you learned something.

The good thing is, she seems pretty used to it, not in much pain. The darn dog took me for a walk today!

And I'm off to study this condition and the correct care of it. Any feedback would be appreciated.

Miss-Adventures with M.

Seriously, who's idea was meringue anyway? What an awful idea.

One is not supposed to begin one's blog with bitching, I'm sure. After all, this is supposed to be an attempt in making my life sound (read) interesting enough for you to continue reading after you have googled some random word and serendipitously come across my not-so-little world. Right? So the last thing desired is an almost housewife complaining about the complex world of meringue. Which is entirely too complicated to spell after a bottle of Pinot.

But I digress. A lot.

I have been trying to conquer the world of clean, naked spatulas (no grease!) egg whites (NO YOLKS) and sugar for about a week and a half and I am about ready to scrap the whole project. Except I have a sweet tooth the size of Paris Hilton's credit card bill to feed.

Apologies to those of you who googled "Naked Paris Hilton" and got me.

First I tried M. cookies (merangie is too hard to spell. Okay? We like M. better!). Simple ingredients, egg whites, check, sugar, check and cream of tartar, kinda check. You see I have an occasional craving for dessert mints, which are mainly cream of tartar. So I figured those might work.

I chopped up the dessert mints and added them to my egg whites. The roommates must have thought I was doing coke, after seeing grainy white powder left on a cutting board...

After adding all the ingredients together and cooking them for about 4 hours I got great cookies- on the outside. The inside was liquid. Nasty overly sweetened liquid oozing all over my counter.

Apologies to those of you who googled "Nasty Naked Paris Hilton" and got me.

Today, after a couple of other failed attempts at M. I tried again. This time it would be M. over a vanilla pudding pie. The first two ingredients were easy, a pre-made Graham cracker crust and instant vanilla pudding, thank you very much, Safeway. However, "instant" and "just add water" M. do not exist. So, once again, I tried. I used real cream of tartar (five bucks!), clean egg yolks and extra fine granulated sugar. I whipped it all together and added te M. on top of my pie. After a few minutes under the broiler, I thought I was done.

Just kidding. I had created crunchy M. And not in a good crunchy way. I mean a the-sugar-didn't-melt-for-squat sort of way.

Sigh. I'm going to Baker's Square.