Strange things indeed

I have a new camera. It is very wee. It fits in my purse, goes to Charleston, and creates all sorts of opportunities for mischief. Take for instance when I'm farting around in, say, Tuesday Morning with a few Snarkys. I can take pictures of the very odd things that they sell there. Wanna see what I found? Okeydokey!

This is fire-hydrant jelly jar. Simply fabulous! Everyone needs one, don't be shy. Go on and buy it. Only $5.99, what a bargain for me! Think of the possibilities. You could design your entire kitchen around this thing. See, I've solved all of your design dilemmas in one blog post! Genius!

Or this fabulous ear thermometer.
"Is it an Ear Infection?" I dunno. Is the fact that your baby is a screaming hot mess pulling at his ear clue enough? If not, then you really are a bad mother. No one wanted to tell you, but I will.

And if you're feeling not so fresh,this is offered for your bathing pleasure:
Or not. (Sorry about the picture quality. You can imagine the looks I was getting taking pictures. Polite interest does not begin to describe them. It was more like WTF??? Weirdo.)

Then there are the things which defy description. This masterpiece of ceramics is a cow-themed multiple-sauce-sampler-doohickey. With coordinating pink wire holder. Actually, none of us had any idea what the real purpose of this lovely kitchen(?) item might be.
There was no tag. Maybe it's a religious item used in a Chick-fil-a worshiping cult. It could also be something smuggled in from someone's dirty santa party because they were too embarrassed to keep it in their house (I mean, what if you dropped dead and strangers had to come clean out your house? What would they find? Think about it.)

You know, come to think of it, this would make a great dirty santa gift for next year. I'm gonna have to go back. Anyone want me to pick one up for them? Shoot me an email. Only $50! Such a deal!

Ok, on to the real news. Amy and I hooked up with Heather in Charleston last weekend. Heather is seen here in need of a cupcake. It was cold. That is an understatement.
We went to Victoria's Secret. They were having a sale. Yay! Lacy underthings for almost everyone! The husband was relegated to the boy's section:
All these men trying to look like they are not interested (no sir, not me) in all the estrogen around them. All the while, you know they're like "oh please, please, please buy the hot pink one! Awww man!"

And what trip would be complete without knitting? Heather is making great strides on her sock! She is a really smart cookie who really gets it! Go Heather!
And Amy made a wonderful chocolate cake with peanut-butter frosting, but there was nothing left to take a picture of. And a good time was had by all. That is all.

Thank heaven for little dogs...or not.

I know, two posts in as many days. Don't get excited, I promise I won't make a habit of it.

And in case any of you were waiting breathlessly about the yard fungus, well, let's just say that wild mushrooms don't freeze well. Alien invasion averted by a characteristic January cold snap. For now.

Most of you know my little dog Flip. He's so old he creaks when he walks. He has 4 teeth left in his head which causes his tongue to dangle out one side of his mouth. He has cataracts in both eyes. He is going deaf. He sleeps all the time, especially when I'm not around. When I'm around, he licks the couch or wanders around asking when the next ship to Tokyo leaves. He's never even been there.

That being said, feeding time is a literal mess. It looks something like this:
Flip eats so slowly that there's time to drive downtown, get a high colonic, and drive back all light and airy while he finishes. While he's smearing food all over the floor and getting at least some of it in his mouth, Zoe is rigid with excitement waiting for him to finish. In about 30 seconds flat, she swoops in
and cleans the entire floor. She's better than a Scooba.

I've always wanted a real dog. Like a greyhound or mastiff or something. But having spent a little time with 3 very loving dobermans, I've decided it's better to have little dogs. The dobies were sweet and wonderful, but they smoosh you when you try to sit on the couch. Literally.

Consider the way little dogs snuggle with you at night. Zoe is the best little hot water bottle around. Or consider the way she barks her fool head off at any perceived intrusion. Better than a burglar alarm. She also travels well and fits in a medium-sized handbag. And her tiny little poos. You won't get that from a big dog. That's why it's better to have little dogs. So says me.

Bye-bye, baby, baby bye-bye...

I sold my beloved first Miata today. She was so pretty driving off down the street. I hope the lady who has her now will love her as much as I did.

However, I have a new (well, kinda) Miata to make trouble in.
This is a '91 British racing green special edition. It's just out of the shop and is all shiny and pretty. On my next day off, I think I shall wash and wax it just for fun. It has a hard top and I just put in a new stereo and speakers. This should keep me from buying a Mini for a bit, don't you think?