Archive for June, 2011

I never thought I’d stand up and cheer while watching the New York State channel.

It's a thrill a minute.

Last night, though, both Lobster and I were celebrating after the NYS Senate passed the bill enabling The Gays and The Lesbians to get married here. We’re both SO excited to get married in October, but at the same time we were a little bit sad that not all of our friends had that option in New York.

Instead of buying favors, we’re donating to a marriage equality organization (we’re not sure which one yet), but that really felt, to us, like a drop in the bucket. I know that this country still has a long way to go, in regard to equality for everyone, but I’m so excited that my home state finally recognizes and respects this basic right, regardless the couple’s gender(s). And I REALLY hope that I get invited to several gay weddings.

Invite me! I’m a fabulous wedding guest.

I do feel a little bit bad for Vermont, though. They’re going to loose a lot of business.


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Merry Summertime!

It’s the first day of summer! What do you do to celebrate? My sisters and I go bridge jumping. Sometimes we get eaten by giant snapping turtles, but not often.

“AJ, do NOT make me look stupid.”
I didn’t make her do anything.
Kate Looking Skeptical

I didn’t even pose her, she was just standing there, sparkling.

Hello, siblings.
Kate and Molly in the scary, murky water

Molly Sunbathing

Sungazing, apparently
Ooh - la - la!

She even has cute feet. Hmph.

And while my sisters were leaping into the murky waters, I was wandering around meeting many very friendly mosquitos. And taking pictures. I’m a great multitasker.

May Apple and Forget Me Nots

Many May Apples

Babbling Brook


Tell me your favorite summer pastime. Mine is meeting mosquitos.

Just kidding, it’s getting eaten by giant snapping turtles.

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You may recall this post from back in April, all about how much I want a Pembroke Welsh Corgi. If you don’t, you should read it. I’m very funny.

The Lobsterface and I had planned to wait until after our wedding this fall to adopt a dog. Actually, we’re putting off our honeymoon until February (the weather in Upstate New York is only bearable for like, three weeks in the spring and three weeks in the fall. We didn’t want to be out of town for one of those weeks), so we were even planning to wait until after that so that we wouldn’t have to leave our impressionable puppy in a kennel while we were off touring parts unkown.

But then I started shopping around on Petfinder.com. As luck would have it, the very first Corgi on the list was being fostered about 45 minutes away from our house. I started to get a little bit hopeful and showed her to Lobsterface. Then he started to look a little bit hopeful, too.

Me: “She’s like, RIGHT next door.”
Lobsterface: happyface “We could just apply…”
Me: “Yeah…and if we’re not ready, we can just say ‘nevermind'” (like that was ever going to happen)
Lobsterface: “…Ok! Let’s send them an application!”

Most rescue organizations require an application just so that they can make sure you’re capable of caring for a pet, not Michael Vick and that you’re really serious about adopting. We expected that, and we expected that they’d ask us a few questions when we went to visit the dog. What we didn’t expect, however, was the job-interview-like process we’d have to endure just to be approved to adopt a dog. They asked us for character references. And they called our character references. One of the friends we had listed sent us a transcript of her phone conversation with the rescue organization. It went like this:

Them: Are these two people capable of walking this dog?
Her: Physically or psychologically?

Them: Physically.
Her: Have you ever seen them?
Them: No.
Her: Well he’s like 6’5″ and she’s about 5’9″ so yeah, I’m pretty sure they can walk a Corgi.

Them: Will the dog be kept inside the house?
Her: Ummm- yes, I believe so.

Them: Do they have a yard for the dog?
Her: Oh yes, a big yard, perfect for a run.
Them: But the dog will sleep and eat inside the house?
Her: Oh I’m sure. They’re planning for this dog like other people plan to bring home a baby, so it will probably sleep on a golden pillow. (I REALLY said that. I was nervous talking.)

Them: Do they have pets currently?
Her: Umm- no.

Them: Do they have pet experience?
Her: Well, she grew up on a farm, so she’s been around, like EVERY type of animal and he, well he LOVES animals.

Them: But has he ever had one?
Her: Umm- well- I think he used to talk about a family dog that he loved but I can’t really confirm that. But be totally loves them. I mean- he’s so into getting a dog.

And after all of that nonsense, we didn’t get the dog. We didn’t even get to visit the dog. She was adopted by a family with (and I’m not making this up at all) prior Corgi experience. That’s what the lady from the rescue organization told us in her “sorry, no dog for you” email.

We probably should have taken that as a sign that we’re not supposed to get a dog until our lives are a bit more settled, but we didn’t. We kept applying for various other rescued Corgis, both purebred and hybrid varieties.

Most of our efforts were in vain. Some dogs were too far away; apparently rescue organizations don’t like to let their dogs go more than 3 or 4 hours from “home”. Really. We were told that on several occasions. Some were given to other families; evidently “prior Corgi experience” is a big selling point when you’re adopting. I wish I’d paid more attention in Corgi Raising 101 in college. I knew my Newt Husbandry class wasn’t worth it.

But FINALLY, someone called us about a little Golden Corgitriever who was up for adoption in Ohio. Golden Corgitrievers look like this:

Golden Corgitriever

Her name was Ladie, and her profile said that she’d been surrendered because her elderly owner couldn’t keep up with her. She was apparently living with a foster owner until someone was able to adopt her. We were ALL excited. The rescue organization in Ohio set us up with an appointment with a rescue organization in our hometown to have our house checked out for Corgitriever compatability, so we spent days cleaning up our backyard, installing a run, moving furniture around to make room for a crate, buying puppy supplies, hanging a leash up by the door so we’d be ready to go for walks, etc.

I have never claimed to be a completely sane person.

The lady from our local rescue came by, loved us, gave us her enthusiastic stamp of approval and promised to email the Ohio people the very next day. The next day I got a call from the Ohio people to tell me that we were all ready, we just had to drive to Ohio to pick up Ladie. She also told me that we should set her up with an appointment at our vet to establish care and make sure that she was in ship shape.

No sooner had I gotten off the phone with the vet than the Ohio people called me back. The conversation went like this:

Them: “Ummm….well, I’m afraid I have some bad news. The elderly lady who owns Ladie right now isn’t prepared to surrender her at this point.”
Me: “ExCUSE me?”

Them: “Yeah…she’s this little old lady and she just isn’t emotionally prepared to give up her dog.”
Me: “WHAT? The profile on your website said that the dog is living in foster care, NOT with the elderly woman who only has one friend in the world and that friend is the dog that you advertised as being up for adoption. We have spent HUNDREDS of dollars and DAYS of our lives making our home suitable for this dog, and NOBODY mentioned that there was even the slightest possibility that she suddenly wouldn’t be available.” (that’s when my hands started shaking)

Them: “I’m really sorry. Unfortunately this happens all the time. I don’t know what else to tell you, I’m just the middleman here.”
Me: “This happens ALL the TIME?! And nobody breathed a word about this to us?” (I think that’s when the steam started coming out of my ears)

Them: “I can keep my eye out for another Corgi for you…”
Me: “Yeah, great. Let me know.” (when I run out of things to say, that’s when you can tell that you have become dead to me)

I haven’t been that angry in a very long time. The woman kept saying, “I’m just the middleman here,” as if my anger was misdirected. I don’t think she understood that I was actually angry at her for not communicating that the dog was NOT, in fact, being fostered in a neutral environment. I honestly can’t fault a little old woman who just wants to keep her dog. I find it very easy, on the other hand, to fault a rescue organization who withholds information from its clients. And that was not to be the only time we encountered such an organization.

To be continued…

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I just updated my Twitter handle to Caulkcrinolines. Apparently they limit how many characters you can use. Hmph.

Anyway, if you’re not already following me, you can do so here.

Love and kisses!

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Here are some pictures I took of my sister, Molly, so that she could send them to her fella who is away at war. I do my part here on the home front, let me tell you.

Molly has been my favorite model since I started taking photos. I think she was eleven years old at the time.

Look, isn’t she pretty?

Molly running around on a roof

Molly was into parkour before it was cool.


Hair all blowing in the wind


She was laughing at me trying to walk and take pictures at the same time.

Happy Again

I don't know what she was laughing at this time.

There. That is Molly. I love taking her picture because
a. she pretty much does what I tell her to do and
b. her face is wonderfully expressive, and that’s fun for me and
c. she’s amazingly self-confident, which would shine through in photos even if I were not as unreasonably talented as I am.

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