9/27/16 The Debate

Hi, this is Liz. I watched the Presidential debate last night. What was seen and heard cannot be unseen, or unheard, much to my dismay. I watched the debate, hoping that something would change my mind about one of these candidates. Nothing did.

I’ll put this right out there: I don’t like either candidate.

Trump repeatedly said that things (like trade deals, policies, etc.) “shouldn’t have happened”, yet he does not seem to have a ready plan to fix anything. A lot of things shouldn’t have happened, but they did, so…what are you going to do about it?  However, the viewing audience received no answers, just accusations. Oh, that and the visual imagery of a 400 pound person sitting on their bed hacking computers. Thanks.

With regard to Clinton, she seems both unlikeable and untrustworthy. We will probably never get the real story of what happened in Benghazi, where American lives were lost. When she apologized for the email scandal, she looked like it was being forced out of her. While Hillary has strategies in place, I can’t help feeling like it’s just “more of the same” lip service politics. She has a lot of unanswered questions, and that makes me uneasy. She is a career politician, and that makes me uneasy, as well.

Most disappointing was, it seemed, that the candidates really didn’t answer the questions posed to them by the Moderator, Mr. Lester Holt. A professional in the journalism field, I think Lester Holt acted and looked “more Presidential” than either Hillary or Donald.

Lester Holt was the only one who really stayed on task, while our two candidates were busy attacking each other and going off on tangents that didn’t have anything to do with the questions. I personally do not feel that either Clinton or Trump swayed any undecided people to either side. I think there is a healthy number of us out there that are still sitting on the fence, trying to choose the lesser poison. This debate did nothing to help us make a decision. Therefore, it wasn’t a debate, it was a debacle. We, the people, deserve better than this schlock.

 

There are two more debates left. Will the candidates maximize these opportunities to speak to the American people? Or are we doomed to watch two more character assassination sessions?

November is coming up quickly.

Your friend, Liz

9/25/16 The Apple Orchard

Today, the humans went out to the apple orchard to pick apples, because Mom wanted to bake pies. They’d been going to this particular orchard since Jamie was just a tot. They’ve seen this farm grow and grow and become a huge attraction. Maybe it’s gotten a bit too famous, because the line to get in the parking lot took 25 minutes.

I took a great nap while they were gone:

greatnap

(ahh, the human bed and all its covers…mine!!!)

Dad took this picture of Jamie and Mom near the trees:

orchard

It was so crowded, they didn’t stay too long. Mom said she was shocked and disappointed that some of the apple trees’ trunks were broken almost in half from people climbing them when they are not supposed to. Much of the fruit was rotting on the vines as well, because of the damaged branches. Next year, they are going to find a smaller place to pick apples.

Back at home, Mom got busy preparing her pie crust. She enlisted Jamie to peel and core the apples. She has this contraption that peels, cores, and slices the juicy fruit. Jamie calls it the “apple murder machine”:

murdermachine

(as you can see, he’s quite serious about murdering the apples.)

Dogs like apples, so I got a slice or two. Mom rolled out the dough and, instead of a top crust, placed little leaf crust “cookies” on the fresh filling. She brushed them with milk and sprinkled sugar on them. Soon the pies were baking and the house smelled wonderful. Mom said it reminded her of a scene out of”LuLu’s Pie Shoppe”, a story Gigi wrote (gigisrantsandraves.wordpress.com). Then she and Jamie cleaned up the kitchen. The apples had been very juicy, and I contentedly licked a small puddle of sweetness from the floor before Mom shooed me away and mopped up.

Now the pies are baked and out of the oven. The one in the glass dish is for Erik and the other will probably be eaten by the end of the night!

pies

I hope I get a crust cookie!

Woof! Love, Maggie

9/24/16 New Wheelz At Last!

First off, I am feeling Much Better since “TreatGate 2016”, wherein I ate 14 large dental brushing chews in one sitting while Mom was away.

Secondly, maggieshelterdog.com should be up and running! No more ads. Woof!

And now, to the subject of today’s blog: new wheelz at last!

As you may remember, a couple of days ago, I blogged about how Jamie (my young human) had saved up his money to purchase a nice set of wheels for his car, a black Mazda 3 that he nicknamed “the 8-ball”. Jamie and Dad did the research on the rims, and Jamie carefully chose a set of four, which were promptly sent out to him via UPS from the Tire Rack, located in South Bend, Indiana. So far, so good.

Now here’s where it gets tricky. Dad and Jamie took the 8-ball out to get the wheelz installed (at the original place where Dad wanted the work done). However, the technician who was going to do the work stated that the rim was “too deep” and would hit the “control bar”, so he said that Dad and Jamie had to get “spacers” in order for the new wheelz to be put in.

Dad was fuming, and Jamie was greatly disappointed. Dad said these “spacers” weren’t safe, that they’d void the warranty on a brand-new car, and that he didn’t want Jamie driving with them. He told Jamie to contact Tire Rack and they would go to Indiana and make an exchange. Jamie was upset, but the exchange was planned to go down today (Saturday).

Then Dad came home from work late and they did not get to go. Tire Rack closed at 3 p.m., and they never would have made it in time. I didn’t think Jamie’s spirits could sink much lower, and I was surprised to see him with a veritable black cloud over his head!

Mom stepped in, however, and said that this whole story stunk like yesterday’s fish dinner. She reasoned that: a) lots of people have nice rims on their car, and they don’t seem to have a problem; b) maybe the technician misunderstood the operation of the whole rim/control bar thing; and c) why not call Tire Rack while they were still open and ask Customer Service?

So, she made the call and spoke with a nice man named Parker, who opened the order up on his computer. He told Mom that his mechanics explained that, when the car was up, there may be contact with the control bar, but once the car was down, and the weight was on the wheels, there would be no problem and plenty of space.

Armed with this information, everybody got back in the 8-ball and drove to the local Pep Boys with the new rims shoved in the trunk. Suffice it to say that Parker’s mechanics knew their stuff, because the guys at Pep Boys were able to install the rims, checked to make sure there was room between the rim and the control bar (“there’s tons,” they told Dad) and basically, got the rims in without a hitch. They did a great job!

Mom complimented Jamie at his “grace under fire” – she said he was a gentleman and patient about the whole ordeal – and Jamie offered his grateful thanks. But I think this happy picture sums the whole thing up:

newwheelz

Woof! The 8-ball rides again!

Love, Maggie (who has gotten quite an education about cars)

 

 

 

9/22/16 (Groans)

I can’t believe I ate the whole thing. Mom is sooooo mad at me.

Mom went to the store yesterday and bought some dog cookies and a big box of Milk Bone Brushing Chews to help keep my teeth and gums healthy. Mom gave me a cookie and secured the treats, then she and Jamie went over to Erik’s for a hair cut. Jamie needed the hair cut, because his hair is actually curly, and when it gets to a certain length, he looks like he’s wearing a James Dean pompadour. The hair cut turned out very nice.

Mom opened the door upon their return and of course I was there to greet  her, belly on the floor. She knew something was up and demanded to know what I did. I glanced over on the floor, where she immediately spotted the box of Brushing Chews – torn open and empty. Mom was in disbelief as to how I managed to get them.

“14 Brushing Chews?? You ate 14 Brushing Chews!” Mom shrieked. “Oh my God, you are going to be sick all night long!!” and indeed I was; groaning and moaning and sleeping fitfully all night.

This morning I was feeling better. Mom was still grumpy and not talking to me too much. She took me out and I went “King Poop” twice outside and now I feel good again. Mom says she didn’t sleep and wants to go back to bed.

Urp.

Woof! Love, Maggie

 

9/19/16 Wheelz

The doorbell rang, suspiciously long after the mail truck had departed. I ran for the door, hair standing up on end, and then raced to the big front window to see who dared to intrude on my property. I pretty much figured it wasn’t a Friend, or a Family Member, because they usually give the door a good rap then walk right in. Doorbells are for Strangers.

A man was walking away from the driveway, rolling a dolly in front of him. He climbed into his big brown truck and drove away. Mom opened the front door and saw two huge boxes. Grunting, she lifted, pulled, and shoved them into the house. I sniffed them over very carefully.

They were Jamie’s new wheels for his car. My young human has been saving every month and socking away any celebratory (birthday, etc.) money toward some “wheelz” for his ride. When he came home from school, he opened them up.

newwheels.jpg

Jamie calls his car “the 8 ball”, and he has little 8 ball valve caps on every tire. Now he’s got a banging set of new rims. I think Jamie has done well. He found what he wanted and saved up for it (“not too flashy, but not stock, either”). Mom could probably use a lesson in Jamie’s “stealth wealth”.

1 hour later….

Unfortunately, the guy at the shop said the wheels couldn’t be installed because of something else that was needed. Dad said we might have to send these rims back and get something else. Jamie was disappointed, and I don’t blame him. It seems like these sort of things never run smoothly. We shall see what happens.

8 ball in the corner pocket.

Woof! Love, Maggie