Derby Doings

It's a fine time to be livin' in the Bluegrass.

There is so much going on we can't keep our social calendar up to date. And we're not even on the "A" list....or "B"......or even "C" for that matter.

But so what? We're still havin' fun.

Saturday, we went to the Airshow.....

And stayed for the fireworks.. A friend of mine from work lives right on the Indiana side of the river. They have an annual pot luck every year so we hummed it to their house for the day. Made for a long day but it was great fun.

Next, this weekend is the Great Balloon Race with Friday night being the Balloon Glow. That's always awesome.

There's something way cool about walking around with your Starbucks while 50+ hot air balloons fill up all around you.

Next week is chock full of activities in the River City. Festivals, concerts, parades... all kinds of fun stuff. This is where I really miss my kids being young. There's a lot of joy in experiencing and watching little ones. Girly still likes to do these things, but it's not the same. Now, she has to take a friend wherever we go and they stay attached to each other while trying to avoid being seen with us. So it's Husband and me. Oh, well... good thing we still like each other.

And, of course, Saturday is also opening day for this place... I guess I know where my spouse will be that day.

We've always gone to the track. We're not big gamblers. Me, I'm a $1 Exacta Box kinda gal. $2 whole bucks. Husband is a little more sophisticated. He gets into all those "acta" and "ecta" words.... Exacta, Trifecta, Superfecta.... That's too complicated for me. I want to be able to figure out if I've won or not.

Years ago, when Girly was only about 3 years old, we were at the track on a real pretty day. She's well versed in horserace lingo. As she rode her Daddy's shoulders up to the fence to pet some of the walking horses, the bugleman played "The Call To The Post". Our racing educated daughter pipes out at the top of her lungs...

"DADDY!!! LISTEN! THEY'RE PLAYIN' YOUR FAVORITE SONG!!"

I cowered and waited for Social Services to come escort us away, while Husband just beamed with pride, responding,

"YEP, HONEY! THEY SURE ARE!"

Needless to say, we weren't nominated for Parents of the Year.

The Friday before Derby Day is Oaks Day.. or the Lillies for the Fillies. The feature race is the Kentucky Oaks for 3 year old (I think) fillies. This has always been the day for local yokels. For many years, we went to the infield and picniced all day long with a large regular crowd. The 9/11 came along and security became so tight it wasn't fun anymore. Can't bring coolers, can't bring food unless it's in a clear plastic container, no drinks and not even your own sunscreen... Just got ridiculous. Husband decided to boycott Oaks Day infield to get his point across to coorporate greedy SOBs. They haven't let on that they've missed him yet..

Everyone knows there's no way to smuggle your own booze in if you can't hide it under the ice in the cooler. Bunch of partypoopers, if you ask me.

Anyhoot, the last couple of years an affluent relative has taken pity on us and passed along box seats for Oaks Day. Now we're spoiled. Nothing like having your own chair and a real bathroom. Never mind that the Bloody Marys are $6 or $12 for a double. Beer is also $7, I think... We were hobnobbin' with higher echelon.

But just like everything else... all good things come to an end. This year, Affluent Relative did not get as many seats, so we are left out in the cold. I'm trying to talk Husband into tackling the infield again, if the weather is nice. He's taking vacation all of Derby week. How strategic is that?

So, I'll leave you with another picture of why I love the Bluegrass State.

Wish us luck 'cause WEEEE'RE OFF!

BYA BYA SANJAYA!!

It's about friggin' time.

Girly and I both jumped up and started doing the happy dance.

I'm sorry my two personal faves were in the bottom.. Lakisha and Blake.. I hope they bounce back.

But now that he's gone, I don't feel so bad about continuing to watch..

I know. I really need a life.

Tax Time Is Over and Doggy Diagnosis

TAX TIME

Well, I'm glad I went and spouted off in order to get all that stuff off my chest.

I dropped off our taxes and our hard earned additional portion of the $20K-$25K that we've already paid in fed and state income taxes. I still don't get it, but I can get off my soapbox for this year, anyway.

Hang around and who knows how far off the deep end I'll go next year.

DOGGY DIAGNOSIS

Well, vet came up with a very educated, biomedical diagnosis for the dog.

He's fat.

No sh*t. Like we didn't know.

He wants him to lose 20 lbs. Hey, I want to lose 20 lbs. too.

Since I gave up all of my vices for Lent this year I thought for sure that I would. But I didn't.
I think Brewz has about as much chance to lose 20 lbs. as I do. He's pretty much given up all of his vices too.
We've cut wayyy back on treats (Snausages, Roverolis etc.) DIL2B has sworn she will cut off some of our appendages if he gets people food.

Plus, he's getting way more exercise than he has in the past. When he's with us, Husband walks him religiously and lets him go down to the schoolyard for a good run just about everyday. Son & DIL2B's new house has a fabulous big fenced back yard. Son takes him out there and plays frisbee or ball with him.. At least he attempts to... When you throw something like the frisbee or the tennisball at Brewz, he just kind of looks at it - then at you like, "What the hell do you expect me to do? For crap sake, quit throwing stuff at me, I might get hurt or something!"

Anywho, the vet said that his hips are not in the best shape, but they're not really bad either. He just suffers from a big butt and skinny legs.

So for now, we're just going to have to keep watching his diet, make sure he gets out and runs plenty and keep Husband from frying him eggs for Sunday breakfast....

WHAT TIME IS IT????

IT'S 1040!

Get it... Tax deadline time.. If you're like us conservative SOB's, you've held off till the last minute because you owe.

We do. Between federal and state I'm writing checks tonight for the total of about $800. That's pretty much a wash for us. So we're pleased.

We are among a minority in our income bracket. Upper middle class with no capital debt. Although we like living without longterm debt, this tax crap has got us stymied. Husband actually has extra withholdings for the IRS to keep us from owing too much.

We're both educated and proud of it, because we did it by ourselves. We both hold professional and management positions for 20+ each years.

We have a lovely home in a great part of town that we paid off in 15 years verses the 30 years or more that most couples do.

Our two children have had the privelege of private educations.

I drive a 07 Toyota Highlander and Husband drives a 2003 Camry. (Until that eyesore 07 Hummer came along).

What have we done wrong to actually owe taxes? We live within our means. We don't promote capital debt. It's just not in us.

Husband was the oldest of a family. There were money troubles for this Catholic family with five kids. They all went to Catholic schools. They're dad was a lineman for General Electric. He did all right, but Mom really had to stay home because there were so many kids at one time. It was a tight stretch. And as the oldest, it left the deepest impression on Husband. He's gotten much better over the years, but he still has to have his nest egg (just in case).

For me, my daddy was a small business owner. He didn't come by it easy. Although it's never been clarified, I suspect my daddy never graduated high school. But at a young age he started working for a guy that owned a gas station. Daddy went off to the Navy, came home and married my momma and went back to work for the same guy. Later the guy started to open local auto supply stores in the city. My Daddy followed him in business. Turned out my Daddy had a good head for business. The auto parts store took off and after some years, my Daddy, found himself part owner within a corporation of about 4 stockholders of a local string of stores. He really made a local name for himself. He was "Rube" of the the parts supply market. That's not his name, but when it came to business that's all the market knew him as..

My daddy had a rule that he passed down to all three of his daughters. Never buy something you can't pay for... He was a cash man. He only financed when it was to his advantage. It's ingrained in me.

So, us two tight SOB's are at a crossroads. We could sell our very middle class home in an absolutely fabulous location to upgrade and take on capital debt. Or we can stay where we are, upgrade the house a little more with a new mortgage, and stay here till at least Girly gets out of High School. Which I might mention, the current Catholic grade school that she attends is right up the street and the closest girls' Catholic High School is right next door to the grade school.
We're so torn. I don't want to take Girly from her neighborhood that has provided such stability over the years for both her and her adult brother. I HATE debt. It's just so ingrained in me that by the time you reach our age, (the 45-50ish range), life should be financially good. And it is. If it wasn't for the goddamn government.. (so sorry, it really goes against my grain to say to say the g-damn word.).

So we've achieved a small portion of the American Dream.. But my question is... Why do we have to pay for it?

Doggy Mortality Thoughts

This isn't my dog... just one that looks like him. Brewzer's face is black. In fact, Husband often refers to him as "You black faced devil!".

Brewzer's under anesthesia right now. He's having his hips x-rayed. Lately, we've been noticing it takes him a lot longer to get up and down. And sometimes he limps on his back leg.

So his two doggie moms, (DIL2B and me) decided to take him to the vet. We called first and the vet (we just love this guy) told me that it would be best to go on and xray him because of his age and weight issues. He said it could be something as simple as a strained hip muscle or it could be dysplasia. It could also be the onset of arthritis.

Brewzer is five years old now. In Boxer years that makes him fifty. This breed physically ages quickly. Right now he and Husband are about the same age. Husband being 51 right now. Maybe that's why they are so attached to each other. It's hard not to think of him as anything but our puppy. We still refer to him as "Puppy".

"What'cha doin', Puppy?"

"What'cha want, Puppy?"

"C'mon Puppy, let's go out!"

Okay, we know he weighs more than 8 puppies put together, but he's still my baby. He triggers all my maternal instincts as much as my own kids do...

This is ironic considering I had never owned a dog or even wanted one before him. Hell, I didn't want him in the beginning. He was thrust upon me when Son just brought him home one day as a ten week old baby dog. But as it typically happens, the mom became the primary caregiver.

I saw that he had food and water all the time. I housetrained him, took him to the vet for his shots and check ups, all the good stuff. Yes, I am the one who took him in and had him fixed. I am guilty of rendering him nutless.

I wasn't all alone in Brewzer's upbringing. Husband was even more resistant to him than I was... But he eventually warmed up. He taught him the basic commands, ("Sit, you dumb-ass", "Down, you dumb-ass"). I'm sure in his young months he thought his name was "Dumb-ass". Now they walk the neighborhood on a regular basis. Brewz doesn't need a leash most of the time. They just walk side by side. Brewz stopping to sniff, pee or whatever and Husband patiently waiting.

So, DIL2B took him in to the vet this morning at 7:30. I have to pick him up at 12:30. He'll probably still be groggy, so I'm sure I'll have to help him into the car. Especially since my Highlander sits up high...Hence the vehicle name... DUHHHH...

I know it sounds terribly stupid, but if something is wrong with him, we'll all be beside ourselves. I understand now how people get so attached. I've already made up my mind that I'll do or pay whatever the vet says he needs. He'll probaby be the Six Million Dollar Dog.

But I don't care. Anything for my Brewzie-Baby.

So, as silly as it sounds, please keep my doggy in your thoughts.

No Need to Pimp this Ride--Husband's Hum-dinger

A couple of weeks ago, Husband came home with a company car, courtesy of his distributor employer. He got it because he's top salesman ( and now he has the vanity plate on this vehicle to prove it)...

Yep...my hard working honey is the top dawg when it comes to selling soda drinks.. After 25 years, I guess he ought to be, huh?



Now this is the car they gave him.

It's a big red '07 Hummer...Wait, let me clarify that....It's a Big Red 07 Hummer.

Really, A Big Red Hummer.

It's covered with this...

And this......

It kind of looks like a parade float. In fact, I fully expect him to be asked to drive it in some of the local parades.

He came home on that Monday evening and announced that he had to go back over to the office in a little while. This isn't too unusual, especially if there is a surge in business. But when he said his buddy was going to pick him and take him back over because he had won something, it piqued my interest...Big Al picked him up in his truck.

All sorts of things were running thru my greedy head... What would he have won that would constitute picking it up in Al's truck?

A big flat screen?

A cool scooter?

New home entertainment center?

All new kitchen appliances?

Then he came home with THAT thing. At first I was horrified. Girly too.

They want us to use it all the time....You know, for the exposure. Oh, Lordy...

Girly and I both have to literally climb up into it as if it were a rock wall.

On top of that, it comes with a gas card... Now there's no way I can argue with that...

On top of that, it's actually starting to grow on me. I'm no longer gasping in shock when I see him come down our street. It's actually gotten kind of fun to watch people rubberneck to check it out.. Hey, the windows are all tinted with soda logo, no one can see us.

So let's see how long he can hold the #1 spot. I may be sad if it has to go.

Note to Mother Nature: It's supposed to be SPRING Break

Today is the 3rd day of our school system spring break. It's raining....
Last night we had rain, thunder and pea size hail.

Good Friday we had a wave of off and on heavy snow flurries. The temp dropped below freezing and killed off all of my azalea blossoms. The hail took down all of my dogwood blossoms. I'm heartbroken. Like any true southern woman, I love my bloomin' yard.

Early last week the temp was in the high 70's and low 80's. I was in my glory.. I hate cold.

I love opening the windows and "airing the house out" as my mom and grandma would say.
I like to hang sheets and blankets outside on the clothesline. I think they smell better.

So, I'm depressed. So is Girly. It's our school system's spring break but there is nothing springlike in the bluegrass right now.

Bah Humbug!