Okay, listen up: I'm only going to go over this with you once more. It's early. There's plenty of time to get the right elf crew on this. For the last time: A PONY. A brown and white pony. I don't need no stinkin' butt ugly dolls coming my way from a certain relative, who shall go nameless.
If you have to contract the work out, use a reliable supplier this year. In other words, don't use dad's mom, like you did last year.
A PONY. (ONE) Brown and White. Not White. Not Brown. Brown and White. And a cowgirl outfit to go along with that pony would be keen too. And make sure there's lots of fringe on the outfit. I gotta hot date lined up for New Year's Eve.
(That's right! Mrs. Claus must have helped out out big time!)And please. No more black and white checked leggings. They are so "last year." Dior wouldn't be caught dead in them.
(Gee, Karen, tell us how you really feel!)Too bad when you're older, you're expected to "make nice." Life was a lot simpler and less PC then.
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21 comments:
What a beautiful little girl! Haha, I hope they get you a pony. You can ride it through the streets of whatever city you are in. You must be more dainty than I. I would crush the poor beast.
Do you really have a date for New Years Eve?
Pity, I've been thinking of someone to matchmake you with... just don't know him well enough to know if it were possible. I have a feeling that I shouldn't be meddling like this... ( : I've never been a successful matchmaker although I try.
I had a date then - my uncle Joe to the far right of he picture! I had fallen for him the previous Christmas. There's something especially appealing about a black leather jackets. When you're little, you just appropriate them for you own as soon as the owner takes it off. We were both visiting my aunt's at the time. I mean, if there's a black leather jacket just lying around, what's a girl to do? Now if you know any guys with black leather jackets... I'm open for negotiation....
On the pony front, can't say I ever got one. But I was indulged from time to time with a time share pony. They work almost as well, though this one could stand a little piebald mix. What is it about the female of the species, in particular, that seems partial to large 4 footed animals? A tarantula for a pet? No thanks. Is there a bazooka around? Sit on the back of an animal that could throw and kill you? No problem, he tries anything like that with me and he'll get whatfer.
Ohhh, that was your date. I had a crush on my uncle too when I was two and a half and would sit right between me and my aunt when she was over (they were engaged at the time). I would not let them hold hands!!
Black leather jacket I forgot to put that on the checklist for you. We may be back to square one.
My mom was the youngest of 6, and then when she was about 16 or so, my grandmother had him as a pleasant surprise. He's about 9.5 years older than I am, and has always been a great uncle for me. My mom loved pushing him in his stroller. He was like a little doll. when I was very little, aged 2 and 3 we lived in the row house right next door to my grandparents (this was when my granddad was working on building a house elsewhere in town) The highlight of my day was when Joey would come home from school on his bike. I'd wait at the end of the back yard for him, and he'd obligingly get off and give me a ride. He was more like an older beloved cousin to us. In fact 2 of my cousins are just a year or two older than he is.
Karen:
Hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!
I, too, wanted a horse when I was little. My mom's family comes from a long line of farmer/horse "people." In fact, my elderly uncle still buys horses and trains them and others race them. I've never been into horse racing too much, but my family has always owned horses. I wanted one that I could keep in my "play house" in the back yard of our suburban home. Unfortunately, the last time I was on a horse was over 20 years ago!! My saintly grandfather, who was a horseman extraordinaire, bought all the grandkids (24 total) a horse that he kept at his farm. It's name was Charlie Brown and he was an Appaloosa.
If you get a horse, I want to ride it too!
Swiss: OF COURSE you can ride my pony. I can't say we're much of an equine family, though my great grandfather and his son ran a dairy farm, and did have a general assortment of farm animals. Alas, my dad's dad died when I was little and I didn't get to know him well at all. But I do have a picture of him riding a horse they kept. The little boy is a half-brother of my dad. THIS is the type of horsie I had in mind, long before I saw this one.
The 3 girl cousins on my mom's side had all been "bitten" by the horse - my older cousin, Rosemarie (by 4 years) actually bought a horse and had it stabled. By this time we had moved west (boo hiss on missing out with that particular timeshare horsie) but I did get to ride him when I went visiting.
My younger (by some 28 years) Katie, completed the troika when she was in that 8-14 set - no pony for Christmas either but loved riding and took lessons and went regularly. The feeling for horses never really dies, but it can abate when all of a sudden the objects of your affection tend to walk on 2 legs rather than 4. It gives me a start to realize that Katie, my youngest full cousin, is in her early 20s now. [My dad's parents had divorced when he was young. Dad converted after he married mom--but one of my dad's half brothers is married to a Catholic and they own the dairy farm, although they contract the work out. After my dad died I had a nice visit with them.]
I liked all the horsey books, and positively loved the Trixie Belden series. There were always riding for fun. Couldn't lay hands on the Timbertrail Rider's series much, though I did run across an occasional one. Sometimes when we'd go on vacation I'd get to ride up in Vermont when I was almost 11 or in lake Tahoe...they had great trail rides and companies up there. You'd go out for a ride with dinner waiting for you along the trail, then ride back. What a blast. When we first moved to California, we lived in the Town of Chatsworth, on the far NW edge of the San Fernando Valley - it was pretty much "town" even back in 1970, but it still had it's riding stables in town here and there.. I was in my Frosh year then, and did make use of the area stables now and again. Said to say, when I stopped by the town last year on my way home from vacation, those relatively "empty" parts of town have been all filled in with condos and the like. What it would have been like to live there in the 40s. (BTW, Fred Astaire and his sister are buried in that town.)
If you're a Reagan Fan, there's a really neat book out called "Riding with Reagan" - put out by the Secret Service agent who was his #1 agent for accompanying Ronnie when he was riding at the ranch or elsewhere. It's a great read, with a lot of nice stories about what kind of guy Reagan was. A lot of them are very funny stories too. Sometimes this blog is more on-line diary, I do hope any readers I've picked up along the way don't mind if I'm being self-indulgent now and again, I never started it as a "Catholic blog" per se, although religion and my beliefs are such a part of me it's natural for me to put a Catholic twist on things. So I keep it as a little of both.
I had already before this last round of fire season (especially bad this year) already uploaded a bunch of photos that are nearest and dearest to me to my computer, but still have a lot to do. Sometimes you'll see some of them find their way onto the blog.
How sweet about your young uncle.
God bless,
Swiss Miss, what sweet grandfather!
Karen, journal and reminisce away. It's great. It's your blog. If people are reading it, nit must be touching some heartstrings or funny bones in them too.
God bless,
Tbanks Adele. I try and keep a light touch overall. I hope that what I have to say might strike a familiar chord in others too. So if you have comments about yourself or your nearest and dearest that my stories tell, feel free to chime in as Swiss did! And I LOVED Swiss's story about her granddad.
I initially didn't have any code to keep track of where people were coming from who read my blog. I finally caved and installed a small bit of code from the free statcounter site (I haven't sprung for anything beyond the basic 500 last entries log - but I'm a map junkie and couldn't resist, eventually. I'm always surprised at some of the hits I get, or what people searched on that caused them to land on the blog. But I mostly like all those little dots across the globe and the different countries. I don't keep track of each thread in detail, but just have the code on the top page of the blog. I was telling mabeck the other day that I was amused to find a while back that I had a hit from the office of the US House Sargeant at arms on a google search for "go to hell pants." It's surprising how often that particular blog gets hit - I think foreigners don't know the phrase and they run across and google it - and the English speaking people who do know, are maybe looking for a sample pair so they can send a gag joke picture to a friend or something. Your guess is as good as mine.
Karen
Karen:
If you get your pony, I will come down with the DigiCanon and get a dramatic shot of you riding along the beach, hair blowing in the wind (we'll use a wig, if necessary, for the drama), as you and Your Little Pony gallop along the sands.
With any luck, nipping at your pony's heels will be the #@*%! PUPPY THAT I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS!!
HELLOOOO!! SWEETNESS AND LIGHT, AKA THE DIGIHUSBAND - HINT, HINT!!!!
Steph
Digi= From observations of my mom/dad Christmas present yearly tango - dad never quite picked up the signals and if mom really wanted a particular something, it was best for me to go along and supervise him. This almost never happened. My mom and I had a pact. If dad let on to me that he'd gotten her something I know she'd really not like, I told her in advance. Dad never knew it, but it kept him from getting a Chia Pet cracked across his skull one year. That gave mom plenty of time to employ the Stanislavsky Method and manage a grateful "why thank you, dear, you know how much I love gardening *smooch*" Some men just should not go near a store and would be best to leave it to the pros. Women. (And probably the champion shoppers of all time, gay men.)
So if you REALLY want the puppy of your dreams for Christmas, best go down and get it yourself now, otherwise hubby will come home with a 12 foot purple stuffed Rottweiler or some such. And the combined forces of Meryl Streep, Maggie Smith, and Uta Hagen couldn't summon up enough Stanislavsky to cover for that one. Carol Burnett, maybe.
What's this about an engagement? I just read something on Fr Eric's blog.
Confused.
Adele, YOUR confused? My inamorata is befuddled. Follow this link and you too can be up to speed. Don't drink any milk while you're reading it though, unless you want to pass a cow through your nose.
I think I found your pony...
http://en.poneyvallee.com/
AA: Totally cute - a red pony with wings! And I just got back from Mass too. See what happens when you light a candle?!
Karen,
I got my "dog fix" today. We got back yetserday from Arizona where we spent the holiday, and today after Mass, I went and got my "boyfriend", the Time Share Schnauzer, and headed off to the dog park. When Dante saw me coming up to the gate of the rectory backyard, he nearly squeezed under the fence, such was his utter elation at seeing "Auntie Steph." I led him out and he flew into the back of my Forester - heck, I think he was about to wrest the keys from me and drive the damn thing himself to get to the dog park. We spent 2 hours there, after which we made a special trip to Petsmart for a treat, since he was such a good little doggie for me.
No, my husband KNOWS I want a puppy for Christmas . . preferably a Pembroke Welsh Corgi . . .
My goodness a Pembroke Welsh Corgi. You better socialize that one properly. Even Her Britannic Majesty has been nipped by one of her gaggle on occasion. If you get one you'll have to collect a whole set. Make sure it/they also loves your husband - because if it doesn't digihubby will get torn to pieces if he [digihubby] makes a "move" towards you, if you get my drift.
I think Prince Philip has been quoted as saying "Those bloody animals!" It's rumored that at one time HM resorted to a doggie psychologist for one of her herd.
I can see why you'd want one. Cute as all get-out. It WILL be your dog. Or whomever feeds it. Make sure *you* feed it! I am dogless at present, but I have the most excellent patronus, (or is it patrona in her case?) Maggie kins. An English Springer Spaniel.
I've always had cats, exclusively Seal Point Siamese except for my first cat that was a black Persian. We had to put our cat down the summer before last after having him for 18 years. Kids were too young to really know what was going on...fortunately. Now my son wants a dog and my daughter loves them too. I've never owned a dog, but see one in my future. Since we live in the city, I don't want a big dog (although plenty of the neighbors have one). The big dogs I like are German Shepherds and Belgian Sheepdogs (both very similar looking) and for little dogs, a would like a Scottie and a Westie since they are a matched set :)
No fear, Karen - I was once the owner of a wee, little Pembroke named Bridie, whom I owned PRIOR to meeting the Digihusband. However, once we met, Bride knew how to play that political game and while she never attacked Mark, she was utterly Machiavellian, which delighted my husband.
They are headstrong little control freaks and horrible shedders - but their beauty and intelligence redeem them.
Cardigan Welsh Corgis, to me, just look damned strange . . .
Digi: A Machiavellian Dog. I love that, almost unheard of. Most dogs are guileless and direct!
Swiss: You'll enjoy the novelty of a pet that is overjoyed to see you. It Does not complain what it is fed day after day, nor does it stay up nights dreaming up ways to trip you. It WILL pull you out of a fire should you be in a burning building. No cat has ever done that. Not because they can't, they just don't want to. Cats WILL at least inadvertently wake you up if there is a fire, particularly if you are between them and the door if a fire breaks out - they will run across your body, and you may have a chance of getting out, if the cat hasn't locked the door behind him when he escapes. But I digress. Those terrier types can be persnickety - but they are persistent. Which is great when you are trying to tell door-to-door salesmen to get lost.
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