Poor pit

Poor Kip. The guy just gets a bad shake. And he's a great shaker! We fostered him because he was living in a kennel, so distressed he was chewing his feet into bloody stumps. He came into our home and then the poor lad discovered he was living with not one, but two psycho blondes (me and Owen). A year later, he's tortured by my attempts at love (but endures like a champ). Then, Maizey comes along and the walks stop - meaning a more tortuous Owen. But, eventually Owen goes to live with a kid-free family and life is looking up for Kippers. And then, Maizey starts walking. And talking. And abusing.

Lately, it's been rough going for the toughest looking, biggest sissy on the block. First, an abscessed toenail. Swiftly followed by an infected eye and oozing hot spot on his cheek and pronounced non-toenail-induced limping. The vet put him to sleep, shaved his face, cleaned his teeth, put stuff in his eye and x-rayed his front legs. Now? Face and eye are doing a-ok, but the x-rays indicated poly arthritis, similar to rheumatoid arthritis - a condition diagnosed via crazy painful joint taps. Enter these photos...

On Tuesday he was again anesthetized and this time underwent joint taps. You know, this big, scary, 93 lb. "pit bull" hasn't made a peep (save for a few whines). Yes, he is costing us a lot of money. But really, if we can get him back feeling like a champ, it's worth it. He's shocked us with his gentle manner and tolerance toward Crazy Miss Maizey. And he has never asked for a thing but food and an occasional chin scratch. The unconditional love of a dog...

Pretty impressive considering this is who he deals with on a daily basis...

Let it snow...

As today's temp hit a high of 52 degrees, I thought it would be nice to reflect on snowier, cleaner, happier, seasonably-appropriate (albeit colder) times. 

Smiles.

Snow angels.

Snow pile sledding.

Airplane observations.

Laughter.

And an errant snow ball toss - ala Maggie. (Oops.)

And more smiles.

You can take me out of the U.P. but you can't take away my Betty-instilled love of a fluffy white yard, pink cheeks and mmmm-mmm ... that fresh, crisp, cold smell... So, please, LET IT SNOW! (again)

Grandparents Galore

Maizey is one lucky gal. I never knew my grandfathers - both passed away before I was born - and of my two grandmothers, one died when I was very young. Grandma Mary was an amazing woman (and Mary Elizabeth's namesake) but after seeing my daughter delight in four grandparents, I can't help but feel I missed out on something.

On New Years Day, when Will and I were eating chicken wings and cringing through Django, Maizey was tromping around Kensington Farm with four of her favorite people.

(Trying on her tough face.)

Yet one more pesky farm animal in her life...

Will and I are thrilled that Maizey has four doting grandparents who get along smashingly. What luck!

Later that day...

Christmas morning, after gifts at home, the traditional gut-busting egg-bake and some yummy mimosas, we packed up and headed to the Spurgeon abode in Royal Oak.

With a cookie snack,

of course.

Once there, it was gifts galore, including a baby doll...

and a sweater...

And much, much more.

Lady got quite adept at the opening.

As you can see.

But was most taken with the singing, dancing tree.

Which is now hidden in a dark closet. Far far away.

(Note to singing tree maker: Please include volume control and a varied holiday carol repertoire on Model 2013. "Rockin' around the Christmas tree" becomes unbearably grating when belted repeatedly, and incessantly, from a flashing, swinging, plush green conifer.)

Gifts segwayed into food. 

And more food.

And . . . more food.

For Maizey, Christmas 2012 came to a close at 5 p.m. when she was lulled into a Jeep-induced sleep, waking only briefly for the car-to-crib transfer, and rising at 8 a.m. on Boxing Day - a full fifteen hours later.

Happy Holidays 2012.

Merry Mary

As you may have noticed, I, formerly "Enlarging Marge," took a bit of a holiday break. I didn't drive to Bloomfield Hills. I didn't do any freelance work. I didn't sew any dog collars. And I didn't do much blog posting. I did, however, take some photos. Vacation's over - on to posting. (And doing freelance work - I promise, Maria!)

After an exhaustingly fun Christmas Eve with "the boys," Maizey crashed, forgoing the cookies-for-Santa routine and sleeping until a leisurely 8:30 a.m. Will and I were up at 6 though, for set up. Following my wise parents' "one gift from Santa, one gift from Mom and Dad (+stockings)" rule, there was little prep. An Ikea easel and wooden train set... plus heaps of goodies from out-of-towners.

We both went up and collected her from her room, but I had the pleasure of carrying her downstairs and rounding the corner to the living room. Seeing the train set, glowing tree and easel, she immediately implored, "Down, Mama. Down!" then ran to the loot.

Customary Caldecott winning book from Grandma Betty...

"A Ball for Daisey." by Chris Raschka.

And fabulous cards from awesomely generous PaPa and BaBa.

 We were enamored with the gift. Maizey the the photo inside.

And so it went...

  Merry, Mary indeed. 

It was a marvelous morning.

And we only opened about half of the presents. Lady got a titch overwhelmed so we decided to stretch out the fun and opened gifts for the remaining week.