Jezebel, The Good Girl

I am linking up with Claudia over at Mockingbird Cottage for Favorite Things Saturday.

Although Jezebel definitely wasn't a Thing, she will always be a Favorite.  You can click on her url at the bottom of this page.

Goobie-Goo

This is Jezebel Goobie Guinn, the sweetest puppy to ever be in the world.  Goobie is a term of endearment in our family.  People who were close to us called her Goobie.  Not all puppies are Goobies.

She was the light of my life for almost 14 years.  I loved her to the moon and back.  I made a scrapbook of her time on earth, back in the days when I made scrapbooks.

She was always close to the babies of our family.  She made them her business.  The photo on the bottom right of the page above is one of my all time favorite pictures.  Jezebel and my granddaughter are looking out the window to the street below.

Always right there taking care of the babies. In the top left photo she is tending to my nephew, Joey's ears.  In the others she is watching over Rachel.

I stood by the bed and watched her creep closer and closer to the newborn, Joey, and finally get some rest lying close beside him.

                          She was always patient.

She slept beside me every night of her entire life.  She felt my feelings.  She loved me like no other.

Everyone loved to accessorize her for some reason, and she always tolerated it happily.

I remember one time a bee stung he front paw.  Oh, my, she went on about it.  She had never been hurt before.  As each family member came home she held her quivering paw out to them and told them about it.  I even took her next door and said, "Tell Amy what happened to your paw." and she held it up and whimpered.

She went everywhere with us; camping and boating, wherever. She was always there.  I even took her to school several times.  The above is her school picture and it was even displayed on the class page.  She was always quiet and well behaved in class.

About a year after she departed, she visited me in a dream.  She put her arms around me and hugged me.  I can still feel it.  I still miss her, even after all these years..http://mockingbirdhillcottage.com/2012/08/the-first-a-favorite-thing-saturday/

Little Wiite Dawg

This happy little white dog wasn't so happy today.  She was moping around and had other disturbing symptoms that I shall not describe here, just in case you are eating.  So we went to the vet.

After xrays and blood tests, subcutaneous liquids, two types of medi, special food, and $422.57, she is feeling better.  Apparently the special food is doggy crack, because she wants more, more, more.

I told her she could have a snack later tonight.  Me?  I'm having an adult beverage.

That other cutie is Rosie.  My niece.

Old friends...NO WAIT: Long Time Friends Are Best

 This is my friend, Judy.  We have been friends since we were in the fifth grade.  This picture was taken at my son's wedding in Phoenix in 1995.  I was so happy to have her there.  She came all the way from Oklahoma to be with me.

 She sent me flowers for my birthday last month.  They were lovely and came in a glass florist's vase.

 I took that clear glass vase and glued ( Mod Podge) a bunch of stuff to it.

 I started with your typical grocery bags, added some netting that had contained avocados, and some burlap.  Then I added several yards of tea-dyed hemp string, some smaller netting, a bit of tea-dyed gauze, papers designed by Tim Holtz, and buttons and doo-dads that I had, just waiting for the perfect home.

I sent it to her for a sincere thank you, not only for the flowers, but for the years and miles that have tried unsuccessfully to separate us, but never did.  Love you, Jud.

AND--A Couple of Decades Later

                  ...I am doing good to walk.

The Doo-Dah Parade!

We marched in the Doo Dah one year.  Of course we did!  You don’t think we would let an opportunity like that to slip by, do you?

We met on the roof of a parking garage in downtown Pasadena.

As I understand it, the Doo Dah Parade originated in the foggy minds of two guys in a Pasadena bar one afternoon.  They decided that their parade would be called the “Tournament of Noses.”  Their queen would not be a pretty little sorority sweetie, but some gal wearing black leather and fishnet stockings and she would brandish a whip.  Instead of proper floats, participants could do anything they wanted.  There would be no political correctness or rule-following drones in the Doo Dah.

We put the last touches on our cardboard vehicles.  Mine was a replica of my '86 Mustang  convertible with the license plate that said, WINE 30.

The parade came to pass on the streets of Pasadena on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  It continued to occur upon that day for several years.  I think it has been rescheduled to a more irreverent day now, but I am not sure when you can see it.

Here, my hubby is securing my shoulder straps.  His cardboard Harley is in the background with Todd.

The first, and possibly the most impressive Doo Dah group I remember was the Synchronized Marching Briefcase Team. There were several synchronized groups to follow, including the Lawnmowers, the Hibachi Bar-B-Qers, Nappers in Recliners, Shopping Carts, and my personal favorite, the Synchronized Lawn Chair Brigade.

The plan was to "drive" down the street until this gal blew her whistle and then we would crash into each other and yell inappropriate LA traffic threats.

Later there were a Garbage Can Lid Percussion group, the Dolly Parton Impersonators, Guys with Blow-Up Dolls, and Dancing Condoms.

Todd was a yuppy attorney who was on his cell phone and reading his Wall Street Journal while driving in his Beemer.

This is Todd's mom and a good friend of mine, Shari.

Us?  We were the Gridlockers.  We spent weeks preparing our cardboard cars.  Mine was a perfect replica of my Mustang convertible, complete with my license plate that said, “WINE 30.”   Richard made a replica of his Harley.

  Everyone else had a sort of theme, for example, there was the “Bleeding Heart Liberal Van,” the “Car Phone Talking Wall Street Journal Reading Attorney,” and the “Let the Baby Stand Up in the Front Seat Guy.”  You get the idea.  One gal carried a traffic light on a pole and periodically she would stop and blow her whistle and we would all crash into one another.

Shari and me.

Somewhere toward the end of the parade route three girls yelled “Hey, WINE 30!”  in unison. I looked over and they held up a half full bottle of wine.  I took it as an offer and drove my cardboard car over and grabbed it and took a swig out of it.

I still cannot believe I did that!  I guess that would be called, “Getting caught up in the moment.”

Other people’s germs.

After the parade Rich parks his cardboard motorcycle next to a real one.

Good Grief!