We did not have a chance to find out if he would mother babies. Carlos died :-(. He rests in the garden in a lovingly dug grave with a paper and crayon 'r.i.p' blanket on it.
Now we have a pair of mollies called Thing 2 and Thing 1 in our true blue Seussian tradition. The names serve another purpose..they do away with the male/ female dilemma. I need to get over my instinctive dislike of the usurpers..Carlos did have a dreamy fish-kiss mouth :-)
5/30/2009
5/19/2009
Carlos J.Krinklebine
Krinklebine came home in a plastic bag inside a brown paper bag. When the lady took him out of his tank and put him in the plastic bag, I quite literally could feel him shrink and droop. Poor thing. My wise brat advised me to drive slowly so he would not be bumped around as much. Between manic fits the child does have her lucid moments.
It took months of hard bargaining before we finally got Krinklebine. The bidding opened with a wishlist for six, yes, six dogs. Two golden retrievers, one labrador, 2 chihuahuas and 1 beagle. At some point the conversation took on a fishy note. At first her ladyship wanted a male and a female who would apparently mate and reward us with a tonne of goldfish grandbabies. Heaven forbid! When I explained that this could turn into a demographical disaster, my beloved innocent said, "Mom can we have a goldfish?" Aha!
So the next question was "Mom how do you know Karlos is a male? If he was female he could have lots of babies and we could call him Junie B.Jones."
Today when she was getting ready for school, I had to tweak her tail. So I told her that the minute she was gone, I would put Carlos on a leash and take him out of the water and both of us would go for a walk. Here I leave you to envision the scrimmage that followed :-)
It took months of hard bargaining before we finally got Krinklebine. The bidding opened with a wishlist for six, yes, six dogs. Two golden retrievers, one labrador, 2 chihuahuas and 1 beagle. At some point the conversation took on a fishy note. At first her ladyship wanted a male and a female who would apparently mate and reward us with a tonne of goldfish grandbabies. Heaven forbid! When I explained that this could turn into a demographical disaster, my beloved innocent said, "Mom can we have a goldfish?" Aha!
So the next question was "Mom how do you know Karlos is a male? If he was female he could have lots of babies and we could call him Junie B.Jones."
Today when she was getting ready for school, I had to tweak her tail. So I told her that the minute she was gone, I would put Carlos on a leash and take him out of the water and both of us would go for a walk. Here I leave you to envision the scrimmage that followed :-)
5/18/2009
On perfume
The test of a good perfume is my husband's nose. Do not think for a moment that the man can smell it. If it is anything other than Chanel, the man will sneeze 40 thousand juicy ones, making me regret my choice! Dab on some Chloe or Davidhoff and sit back at a safe distance to hear the loud anosmic review.
This morning, to my pleasure, I found a scratch and sniff card of Donna Karan's Cashmere Mist in the papers. I am usually wary of unknown perfumes..they remind me of talcum, cats and old ladies. They also have a propensity to give me a migraine. But today I was enticed by the name Cashmere Mist.
Inhaling warily at first, I sniffed a second time and a third with my eyes closed. It was wonderful. If a perfume could conjure visions of snow clad peaks, newly formed clouds, flower-filled valleys and cold crisp mountan air and a very elegant woman somewhere in this picture, this was it. It was quite a revelation, this Cashmere Mist.
And I also realized that I could not wear it. It simply was not me. Perfumes have a thing about personalities. Therefore I will admire it, love it and never buy any. I prefer to stick with my beloved husband-friendly Coco.
This morning, to my pleasure, I found a scratch and sniff card of Donna Karan's Cashmere Mist in the papers. I am usually wary of unknown perfumes..they remind me of talcum, cats and old ladies. They also have a propensity to give me a migraine. But today I was enticed by the name Cashmere Mist.
Inhaling warily at first, I sniffed a second time and a third with my eyes closed. It was wonderful. If a perfume could conjure visions of snow clad peaks, newly formed clouds, flower-filled valleys and cold crisp mountan air and a very elegant woman somewhere in this picture, this was it. It was quite a revelation, this Cashmere Mist.
And I also realized that I could not wear it. It simply was not me. Perfumes have a thing about personalities. Therefore I will admire it, love it and never buy any. I prefer to stick with my beloved husband-friendly Coco.
5/12/2009
Raving about clouds
No I haven't written anything in a long time. Did not have either time or inclination. But the sky is beautiful today and tugging at my heartstrings. If I do not write, I will cry because my heart will overflow one way or the other.
It is a deep azure, the sky. The glare hurts my eyes and I wonder that blue can be so intense, so bright, so clean. I don't know about your kind but Texan clouds are of two kinds..one type bohemian, lost, wandering, in no hurry to get anywhere. These wander the blue skies when rush hour traffic is over, with unkempt white locks and no direction. And then there are the type A clouds that bustle in from the Gulf of Mexico, nasty lookers each one. Scowling, frowning, elbowing others to get somewhere that much faster. They darken my skies and make my green trees look greener, and the sun sunnier when they finally go away.
The trees are still, breathing quietly, watching cars zoom by. Emissions, emissions! What does the oak care if it is a Maserati belching emissions or a battered Ford. It is asphyxiated by both.
But no talk of asphyxia today.
As the sprinklers come on, sunshine plays its enchanting tricks on my mind once more..as each droplet brings me a rainbow. Life is so intensely beautiful and so worth living. Thank you God.
It is a deep azure, the sky. The glare hurts my eyes and I wonder that blue can be so intense, so bright, so clean. I don't know about your kind but Texan clouds are of two kinds..one type bohemian, lost, wandering, in no hurry to get anywhere. These wander the blue skies when rush hour traffic is over, with unkempt white locks and no direction. And then there are the type A clouds that bustle in from the Gulf of Mexico, nasty lookers each one. Scowling, frowning, elbowing others to get somewhere that much faster. They darken my skies and make my green trees look greener, and the sun sunnier when they finally go away.
The trees are still, breathing quietly, watching cars zoom by. Emissions, emissions! What does the oak care if it is a Maserati belching emissions or a battered Ford. It is asphyxiated by both.
But no talk of asphyxia today.
As the sprinklers come on, sunshine plays its enchanting tricks on my mind once more..as each droplet brings me a rainbow. Life is so intensely beautiful and so worth living. Thank you God.
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