Doggy Days…

Once upon a time there was a beautiful hound dog named Oreo, that snored her way into our hearts. (a.k.a Roar’eo, Snor’eo, Big O).  When the Big D and I got our first apartment (after a brief stint in his bachelor pad;  yup, those were close quarters;  we MUST’VE been in love!), we saw an ad in the community paper for some puppies that had been abandoned in a knapsack on the side of a road; 2 had suffocated, but 10 survived.  (Yeah… I know… it breaks my heart, disturbs me, and makes me so sad and mad all at the same time.  We said all the same bad words, so don’t hold back on my account)!  Anger aside, we opted for a visit, and there was one itty bitty black and white pooch left, named Oreo, who was about 8 weeks old.  We went to see her, she sniffed us, gave us slobbery kisses and showed off by  ‘peeing on the potty paper’.  It was love…. we brought her home the day after Valentine’s 1997.  She immediately made herself at home, flopped down on a floor cushion and proceeded to saw some serious Z’s.  Even though she was only the size of a football, her snores echoed throughout the apartment (and down the block).

We took Snor’eo everywhere.  One year we packed up my little red Festiva (ya-ya-ya-ya!!!) and drove to PEI for a bit of October car camping.  Okay… so we didn’t put a lot of forethought into how cold it would ACTUALLY  be and “yowza!” it was c-h-i-l-l-y!  In our little 3 man tent, Snor’eo kept us warm and she loved to chew on freshly cut firewood and hang out by the campfire in the hopes that a few dropped marshmallows would roll her way.   We explored the island and had a great trip.

Confederation Bridge

I remember being terrified to drive over that crazy long Confederation bridge that connects PEI to New Brunswick.  So, there I sat, petrified, as the Big D calmly maneuvered the car onto the bridge for the trek back home…. and then, as the car was gently rocking back and forth in the wind, I noticed it.

It was quite faint at first, actually.  I gave the air a quick ‘sniff’, and then it increased in pungency, creeping its way from the back seat, engulfing the car with its wicked stench.  It was the overpowering smell of terror that had escaped from Snor’eo’s bottom side.   She must’ve ‘passed wind’ in fear, and the stench was even more ferocious than her bark!  So, in true smacki fashion I made up a wee song to ease her nerves and mine, which I sang until we reached the other side safely…

“Your bum’s as big as PEI… as PEI… as PEI”
“Your bum’s as big as PEI.. and it smells like ocean fish!”

Some days, like today, I get very melancholy, especially when I remember her fondly in her heyday. It’s been just over nine months, since she passed on to the big doggy bone heaven in the sky, and not a day goes by in our house that we don’t miss that big ball of burly love.

She died the week before Christmas, 2011;  just shy of fifteen years old. It shook us all, even though we knew the days we had with her were getting shorter.  On that fateful Saturday, she faithfully followed the Big D into work, hoping to get her share of pepperoni from the pizzeria next door, and maybe some extra crust, as she did on most days.  It was there, later that morning, that she had her last bite of roasted chicken, and took her final breath in the Big D’s arms.

We all miss her.  Mouks had a really hard time, especially for the first few months.  He was nine at the time, and would lay in bed on many nights, write her name in the air, and cry;  deep hearted sobs of loss in the darkness, over the dog he loved so much.  It is one thing to lose your beloved pet, and to have to cope with that loss.  It is another, to see your child in despair, as he mourns the loss of his cherished pooch, and to watch him struggle to try and comprehend what happens when one dies.

I remember crying (well, more like bawling, with gushing tears and wet boogers) to the Big D one night and saying that I didn’t want to get another dog (EVER), because I didn’t want to feel this overwhelming sense of loss again.  But now, 9 months later, I feel differently.  A void is still left in our little family from the place she held in our lives.  We all know that big ball of love can never really be replaced, but we are getting closer to the stage where we can imagine another exuberant hound dog becoming part of our clan.   NOT, that I’ve been scouring through all the Ottawa rescue sites on a frequent basis, searching for the right ronker to live with us in Smackiland, or anything like that….   But, secretly, in my heart, I know that Roar’eo would like us to save another furry soul and open our hearts to loving another pooch one day.

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Did I hear correctly?… “Buy me… buy me…”

So, what’s a rainy weekend without tea time and a little baking? (Well… I suppose there was a little shopping that preceded the freshly baked muffins, but that’s just a technicality)!

It’s not that I don’t already own a couple of teapots (don’t tell the Big D, ’cause I don’t think he’s noticed; seriously.  Yeah… I know); but I have been searching high and low for just the RIGHT purple teapot for my kitchen.  After all, it’s a non-scientific fact that things taste that much better when served in and on pretty things.  I think I finally found it this time though!   I suppose I MAY have said that the last time, when I found that cute purple teapot at the Bombay company, just before we went on vacation.   (But if I said it in my head, it doesn’t count, and there were no witnesses).   But this one REALLY  does have all my fave house colours.  And it spoke to me.  I’m sure you’ve heard it before… that faint, yet distinct high-pitched “buy, me…. buuuuyyy me” squeak from that oh so amazing item that you have coveted for at least fifteen minutes and you know with certainty that you cannot leave on the shelf; as it would otherwise be destined to exist in a unadmired and underappreciated dwelling.  And that, would be a shame.  Well that’s my ‘sales pitch’ to the Big D, in case he questions me.

I’m not sure if any of you have ever heard that ‘plea to purchase’?  I figure it must just be something that only us women folk are astute enough to decipher.  I’m sure there is an episode of Big bang theory, where Sheldon says “Evolution has made women sensitive to high-pitched noises while they sleep, so that they’ll be roused by a crying baby…”?   So, if it happens when we sleep, it must happen when we’re awake too…. right?  And, if it’s on t.v., well, then, there must be SOME truth to it.  I mean, what are the chances that they would risk putting a quote like that on t.v. if there wasn’t some type of scientific evidence to back it up? So, I’m thinking I’ve got a pretty good case here, for buying my new teapot.

So, after I found this uber fab teapot in THE most perfect colours, for my ohhh so cute kitchen… I made some scrumptious banana muffins.  (Moukie’s favourite, and the easiest recipe that my Sistah passed along to me).  I have no idea where she got it, but it is a tried and true banana bread/muffin recipe.  I am pretty darn sure that people call it ‘bread’ and ‘muffins’ to make it sound healthier.  Seriously, who the heck are we kidding?  Slap on some icing and you’ve got yourself a cupcake! mmmmm…..mmmmmm….mmmmm… sugah!

Here is the recipe for you to enjoy.  (I usually double the recipe, ’cause who can only eat a dozen or so…?…. but this time I tripled it and took a chance, and it STILL came out delish)!  I have no idea if my Sistah will care that I’ve passed it on for the world to see, but she hasn’t read my blog yet, so she’ll probably never know!

Ohh! Great idea from my BFF in the prairie land…. (Auntie Kermin, as Moukie lovingly refers to her as). She peels her bananas before freezing them, whereas I just chuck them in the freezer. But she’s smarter than me, so I think we should do it her way.  Otherwise you end up with this kinda mess:

frozen banana mess

So, grab a ‘cuppa’ somethin’ somethin’ and a few of them there muffins, and ENJOY!

And to quote Tammy Faye Bakker (because I MUST be desperate!):   “shopping is cheaper than a psychiatrist”.

Smacki… what?!

Well, the time has come.  I finally got around to starting my blog.  Something I have been thinking of doing for what seems like ummm… forever.  I was inspired by my uber fab cousin (www.boomdeeadda.wordpress.com), motivated by all the fabulous back to school sale items that I wanted to share (umm…. yeah…. mostly shoes for me)…. and provoked by my inner angst over the things that have been driving me crazy lately in Smackiland.  (Just you wait…. I’ve got some whopper tales to tell)! 

Smackiland you say?  Is that where you smack around people that annoy you?  ummm… TECHNICALLY, that is not why I’ve named my blog that.  It actually stems from the fact that I have inherited the nickname “Smacki” (from my first name, Sherri and married surname of Macki); and sometimes live in my own little magical land, where it’s okay to save some cash and buy the no-name grocery items, just so I can spend the extra money on that cute pair of shoes…. or that great fabric that  will one day be the ultimate couture fabric for my future dining room curtains.  Of course my volleyball teammates may say it’s because I grunt and groan when I smack down a volleyball spike (although that could just be the grunt from the amount of effort that it takes for me to jump that high)… or my ‘smack’ talk when I go on a rant.

In any case, I’ve never been at a loss for words, and thought this would be the best venue to express my inner thoughts, share my great style finds and bitter rants.

In honour of my grade 6 elementary teacher, Mrs. Black,  who once told me that I can do anything if I put my mind to it, and to quote my favourite author:

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who’ll decide where to go…” 
―   Dr. Suess,   “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” 

And thus begins a new journey…..