Grands, Doggies and Nicknames

It is 8:47 PM on Friday night.  I am sitting on my bed typing this blogpost.  Jerry is upstairs where I just left him watching Shark Tank.  I like watching that show, but after about 4 inventions, I'm ready for a change.  Have any of you ever seen one of those Shark Tank product displays in a store somewhere?  They show them on the Shark Tank show.  I've never seen one.

OH!  I did buy a product from Sam's some time ago that was supposedly bought by one of those sharks.  I haven't been very happy with it either.  I just noticed yesterday that one of the items is full of holes!

I had the great pleasure of receiving phone calls from two of my favorite people today:  Hollie, my granddaughter-in-law and Lindy, my granddaughter.  My phone seldom rings unless Jerry needs something, and it had not rung at all today.  About 3:00 the girls both called me at the exact same time.  WHAT are the chances???

Hollie told me that her husband -- my Boo Bear -- is going to be sent overseas AGAIN.  They just got back from Alaska 9 months ago, and they have been in southern AZ since then.  Hollie was feeling pretty stressed by it all.  I tried to cheer her up.  After all, she IS married to the most amazing young man on the planet:  MY Boo Bear!

For my new readers, "Boo Bear" is the nickname I gave my FIRST grandson, John.  Jerry and I took care of him a lot until he was about three years old.  Both of us were absolutely mesmerized by this adorable child.  He and I used to watch Winnie the Pooh every day.  I liked it as much as he did, lol.  I always identified with the donkey, Eyore.  Somehow, between the combination of John getting great delight out of hiding and saying "BOO!" and us watching "Poo Bear" every day, I started calling him "Boo Bear".

Everyone in the family started calling him that too and it just stuck.  I suppose when a child is a 22-year old Soldier, you should quit calling him "Boo Bear", but we just can't.  There is so much love in that name, and he knows it.

I have a 6'5" nephew, Stephen, who we all still call "Tiger".  We just saw him at Thanksgiving.

The only nickname anyone ever called me was "Jungle Queen".  Isn't that lovely!?  It wasn't meant to be complimentary either.  I was 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 years old.  The neighborhood kids called me that.

It referred more to my looks than my status in the neighborhood.  I ran everywhere I went for some reason.  I still do as much as my body will permit it.

And my hair when I was young was SO STRANGE!  My Hair is as straight as nails and very thin.  My Mother got the most bazaar notion that my hair would look good if she got me a permanent JUST ON THE SIDES of my hair and left the back straight.

In the olden days when I grew up, kids actually played outside all day long unless it was time to eat or come in and go to bed.  I was outside a lot.  I was a major Tom Boy.  I loved to run, jump, climb trees, pick up bugs, lizards and other creatures I wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole now -- ride a skateboard, build wooden go-carts, and build "homes" out of empty refrigerator/washer/dryer boxes.

When I wasn't doing those things, I was running up and down the street from house-to-house looking for my sisters who were always hiding from me because I was their babysitter, and they didn't want to be babysat by a Jungle Queen!

There was one other name my x-son-in-law used to call me:  "Queen Bee".

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Why do BOTH of those nicknames have the word "queen" in them?????

After I talked to Hollie, I called Lindy back.

Lindy and I had a long talk about growing up, going to college, handling money, making right choices, what to do if she got a credit card, new boots for her birthday and other sundry topics.

The conversation ended with my favorite words:
"I love you, Grandma!"

Something else wonderful happened today.  It has been wet outside for two days.  Not raining really, but very wet with light rain off and on.  The dogs were so dirty yesterday that I asked Jerry to help me bathe them.  Jackie is so big that her "bath" consists of me putting each of her legs down into a pitcher full of warm water -- dumping it out -- refilling it -- and repeating over and over until the water stays clear.  We were able to just fit Josie into the laundry sink where she got a REAL bath with cat shampoo because we don't have any dog shampoo, and since Josie didn't have to eat it, she didn't know the difference

THEREFORE, the dogs were nice and clean when they got up this morning.  I let them out to do their business and then had them come back in so they wouldn't get all yukky again.  Then I noticed the razor I had purchased for Jackie out on the counter in its baggy.  I decided to TRY to cut the hair on her face because it kept getting longer and longer and longer and soon would be at her knees!

The wonderful part was that Jackie actually STOOD STILL and allowed me to give her a real haircut.  I did her face, around her eyes, inside her ears, her neck, the top of her head and her ears on the outside.  I used two different comb thingys to control how short I cut her.  She looks really good, and I am so happy she let me do it because I do it for FREE.

Now, Josie is a different story.  I tried to do her bottom, and she decided that was NOT FUN, and she ran away and chewed something.

My kitchen floor looked as though I had just purchased brand new thick, black hairy rug bits and scattered them here, there and everywhere!  These Golden Doodles really have a LOT of hair!

I better get.  Be back soon.

Hugs, Joy