My Husband, the Hero

For most of the past week, The Electrician and I have relocated to the spare bedroom because the guest bed has a much firmer mattress, and we hoped it would help my knotted-up spine correct itself. Between the change in bed and the three treatments on my neck I suffered through, I am close to…

Halloweenie

Late in October, every year without fail, things get a little creepy. It’s dark by seven o’clock, and a chilled wind twists through the neighbourhood, tossing the carcasses of leaves along the gutters and knocking bare branches against my windows. I can’t help but feel my skin crawl when I’m outside alone after dark. The…

Husbandly Heroism

It’s no secret I think my husband, aka The Electrician, is the greatest guy around. This weekend he saved me from a gory death in the dollhouse basement. Let me tell you how it all went down, and how Thanksgiving was almost my final day on the planet. Just before preparing our turkey for two…

Just Die, Already!

I have a phone that’s smarter than I am. Mostly, I bought it to play Angry Birds, and to manage things here on Blue Speckled Pup while I’m out and about. As most smart phone owners know, the brilliant little things suck power like a frat boy drinks cheap beer through a funnel, so I…

He’s a Creep. He’s a Weirdo.

A few blocks from the dollhouse, there’s a spooky old place and its occupant that never fail to rattle me a little when I walk past. Even in the daylight, the house gives me the creeps, but at night I’m often notably startled by the guy who lives there. Seriously, the passing drivers who can’t…

Mammal Mondays: Killer Instinct

When The Electrician and I, tailed closely by a nasty little flu, headed out of town this past weekend, Leroy went to stay at a nearby friend’s house. Part of the joys of having a cat is the fact that most kitties can be left home alone for the weekend and are quite happy to…

Keeping My Hands on the Wheel

I am a rule follower. My phone is shut off even before the movie previews begin. All my text messages are properly punctuated. Leroy’s used cat litter is double-bagged, as per the city’s request. I sometimes worry about accidentally washing a sweater in warm water with my other clothes when the label very clearly states…

Call Me Miss Muffet

Leroy has his own room, in a way, in the dollhouse. The back bedroom will eventually be my working office if I get my act together (or rent a bulldozer to clear the rubble) but for now, Leroy’s bed is in the corner, and his business box is hidden in the teeny closet that really…

Murder in Cold Blood, if Spiders Actually Had Blood

Did you know spiders have no muscles? Instead, their limbs function on a system of arachnid hydraulics, or something close to that. The complicated locomotion of spiders, though, doesn’t stop them from being utterly disgusting. I’m not going to pretend to tolerate spiders. I hate the nasty things. When I went downstairs the other night to…

Mammal Mondays: We Are Not Amused

My high school biology teacher used to correct single students who used a plural pronoun to refer to themselves. It became one of the things I could rely on, like the snarling stuffed marmot in his spot on the shelf above the microscopes. The conversations went something like this: “Um, we don’t think it’s fair…

Spiderzilla!

I felt virtuous because I decided to do a load of laundry before I went to bed, even though it was well after ten on a school night.  I just don’t feel right if I don’t have clean pink clothes, and I have enough stuff in various shades of pink that it requires its own…