We don't lie!

Anyone who has visited our house has witnessed the exuberance of one precocious beagle who seems eager to impress everyone by getting into (and onto) as many things as possible. Feeling truly bad for our dog's transgressions, P and I apologize and explain that most of Bruchi's day is spent sleeping on the couch, that he is really mellow most of the time. I have even been known to tell stories of Bruchi's symphonic range of snoring that often accompanies my long writing sessions during the day. Well, as they say, the proof is in the pudding. See below. Bruchi, under our Ralph Lauren quilt, konked. 11:00 am, Halloween.

Bruchi, a.k.a. the Love Bandit

Bruchi has had a range of love affairs in his short lifetime, the longest of which has been with my dad's forearm. He has gone through several stuffed ducks, a couple of couch pillows, a couple of beds, and the pattern that seems to recur is this: once I love you, I must destroy you. Because these activities tend to cost us money, time and irritation, P and I have recently attempted to break the cycle by scolding him whenever he begins to love on his, or our, new items. See, for example, the image below taken after a scolding following an attempted love session with his bed. His look to me says, "um, what's the problem exactly? AND why are you photographing this? Victorians!"

Happy Hound-a-ween(-er)!

Poor Bruchi. In the middle of his Sunday evening siesta on the couch, K & P decided it would be fun to try on his Halloween costume. (Yes, we splurged and bought him a $7.99 costume from Target.)



At first, Bru just thought we were trying to cuddle up with him. But then, once the hot dog was fully fastened on his back, he realized that this was for real. He looked at us with the "what did I do to deserve this?" face.


Finding no sympathy from us, he tried to get out of his outfit by rubbing it on the hallway wall.




When that didn't work, he gave in to the word "cookie" and posed for the camera.



We'll see what sort of trick-or-treating Bru is in for this year....if he doesn't eat his costume in the next 10 days.

Memo from the NW

So everyone knows, I will only be applying for jobs in Iowa, Nebraska, Oklahoma, North and South Dakota. That is of course, if an opportunity in Illinois doesn't open up.

On the Bright Side...

So...maybe the NW won't take us back because I cheered for the Buckeyes. On the other hand, at least I can say I got to cheer for a winning team. :) :) :)

Unfortunate News . . .

P, has decided to cheer for the Buckeyes this afternoon. The consequences of her decision are either 1) we will never leave the midwest because the NW will never take us back for her betrayal, or 2) we are indefinitely separated until she apologizes profusely for this transgression.

Bow Down to Washington!!!!

As I type this post, I am sporting a heather grey hooded sweatshirt with a purple and gold "W" on the front; the "W," of course, stands for the University of Washington. Today, the Husky football team is 2-0 and preparing for a late afternoon tussle with the Ohio State Univesity.

Words cannot describe how excited I am for this game. While watching it on our television here in the Midwest, I will be looking for the seats on the second deck that my dad and I spent so many afternoons in while I was growing up. I will feel the chills up my back when I hear the announcer welcome the "dawg fans" to Husky Stadium (I am there in spirit!!!). I will scream *literally* when the team hoists their gold helmets up in their air at the opening kickoff. I will hold a cookie in my hand and pretend that it is a "cow-chip cookie" - if you don't know, you can't know. I will call my dad after every score so that it feels as though even though we are thirteen hours and five states apart, we are still doing something that we have always done, and that has been truly foundational to our relationship. I will sing "Bow Down to Washington" during halftime even though I only know the words "Bow Down to Washington" "Mighty are the Men, Who Wear the Purple and the Gold" "Heaven Help the foes of Washington" and "Ra-Ra-Ra."

Some people say that sports are trivial, but maybe that is because they don't get it. I love Husky football because I love my dad who loves Husky football. I love the memories, and I hold fast to each one, from age 6 to age 26. I can close my eyes and see the walk from the parkade, down through campus, past the peanut vendors, through the purple gates, and down the corridor. I can feel my dad sitting next to me, and I can hear him scream, and can see him clap. I look past the scoreboard and see the Sound, the mountains, and my home. I remember all of these things and miss him, bad. I want to make the drive home and talk about all of the plays, the Don James era, the two Rose Bowls we attended, and the time we brought Dave Steele who yacked in his frontyard as we dropped him off.

Below is a picture of Husky stadium.
Don't talk to me for a week if they don't win.