Sister's Choice Quilts

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH (Sound of Nicole Screaming)

The kids are coming home for a visit this weekend, so I thought "Nicole, you had better get Posh Baskets off the guest bed".  I had a gazillion little pieces laid out because the setting is really complicated (to my feeble brain anyway).  There are two sizes of lattice, 10 1/2 inches and 11 1/2 inches.  I have to really concentrate on which size goes where.  Plus there are tiny little corner stones that measure an inch and a half.  Seriously, this setting needs a rocket scientist to visualize it correctly so it doesn't get put together all wonky.  My brain hurt after laying it all out.  Lots and lots of pieces, all carefully arranged just so.

Ozzie has been driving me NUTS all morning, grabbing things from the sewing room and running off, snatching patterns, chewing on pillows etc.  I decided to give him a nice chicken basted rawhide bone so he wouldn't bother me and I could sew and concentrate on Posh Baskets.  The chicken basted ones can get kind of slimy and messy after a dog chews on them for a couple of hours, but I thought the risk was worth it to keep Ozzie occupied.

Not too much time passed when I heard a scuffling in the guest room.  I got up from the Bernina to see what Ozzie was up to.   I am leaving his eyes green so you can see him as the Demon from Hell he really is.

He had scuffled half of all my little lattice strips, micro corner stones and basket blocks into a pile at the head of the bed and BURIED HIS SLIMY BONE in them under the pillow.

That is his head on the right. gazing in dismay at his foiled efforts.  If you could have seen the huffy look he gave me for disturbing his hiding place you would have cracked up.  But not me.  Not funny.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Some Big Helper You Are

I am determined to get some sewing done around here.  Ozzie, who just yesterday indicated his willingness to help me in any way he can, has completely reneged on his promise.  I swear, as God is my witness, this dog has gotten on my last nerve.   First he got into my purse and stole my brand new Christian Dior Lip Gloss.

I guess I won't be carrying that in my purse any more.  Now the gloss comes out of both ends.  How convenient.

When he hopped up on the bed next to my sewing machine, I thought all was well and that he could behave for a while.  No such luck.  Look out!  He has my brand new bundle of Dandelion Girl!

He looks like he is saying "Oh for crying out loud.  WHAT?"

The final straw came when I heard the phone ring in the next room.  I took the call and when I looked out the kitchen window, there in the yard was Ozzie with the project I am working on.  I actually picked three straight pins out of his beard once I caught him.

Lucky for me, just as I took this picture, he spied a quail family on the hill and sped off in hot pursuit.  Thank goodness he didn't take my quilt top with him.

Well, I do have the rows sewn together at least.  Now for the corners and borders.  This is Candle in the Wind using a Kansas Troubles group called Snow Blooms.

Two hours later!  A finished quilt top!  No thanks to my canine companion.

Maria (Shallow Thoughts From Iowa) had a great idea for folks to post something they finished each Friday.  My goal for the summer has been to finish my UFO's, so I think I will play along with her in June, July and August and strive to post a Friday Finish each week.

Enough With The Sewing, Already

Hello?  Remember me?  It's Ozzie, your best pal.  I am pretty sure you must have forgotten all about me.  All you do lately is sit at this stupid sewing machine.  Sew, sew, sew.  Who cares about all this sewing?  Not me.  I don't get it.  Here I am, the most irresistable of all pets, and you just ignore me.  It's gone on long enough, I tell you.

I bring you my favorite squeaky alligator toy, I paw at your leg, I do all sorts of naughty tricks to get your attention, and through it all you ignore me.  This has GOT to stop, or I will be forced to find a new best friend.  What do I have to do to get you to play with me?

This situation is making me quite cross.

Oh No. Not Again.

He did it again.  I have never heard of a dog who hates irons as much as my Ozzie does.  What is this?  The third or fourth iron he has executed?  This was my extra back up iron that I bought for the retreat.  Luckily I didn't spend too much on it and it wasn't the greatest iron anyway.  But still.  He doesn't even look sorry.

Do you think I would be a bit better about remembering to keep the door to the sewing room closed?  Honestly.  Have I mentioned lately, that I ADORE this dog, despite his occasional naughtiness?

Update on Dog Training

Ozzie and I continue to attend dog training classes.  Our instructor is a lovely, blond, fit, tough as nails young woman who is a police officer.  We are fortunate that she is available to teach dog training classes on her day off.  She is working towards becoming in charge of the Canine Unit on her force, and it seems to me that she has all the skills and knowlege to achieve that goal in no time.  When she comes to class, she brings her magnificent Doberman Pinscher "Gene" along with her.  Gene is a fabulously well mannered dog, who flops down on the floor and sits patiently until the class is over.  Gene is a model dog.

So, what's the problem?  Ozzie despises Gene with something bordering on a manic obsession.  Doesn't like him one bit.  Did Gene ever do anything untoward to Ozzie?  Absolutely not.  The only thing Gene has that Ozzie may resent are two intact testicles.  Ozzie may not have gotten over the loss of his own, which was a part of the agreement we made with the breeder when we adopted him. 

Ozzie growls, Ozzie snaps, Ozzie makes the most dreadful strangling noises in his effort to get at Gene, who outweighs him by a good 40 pounds.  It is quite a scene.  I have never seen this side to Ozzie.  It is a real Dr. Jeckyll/ Mr. Hyde situation.  Our teacher is able to work with Ozzie and get him under control, but is this situation ever embarrassing to me.  At the end of the hour, Ozzie seems to have gotten tired of me jerking his collar and correcting him, and usually is willing to look the other way and not make eye contact with Gene.  Did anyone ever mention that Welsh Terriers are stubborn, willful, determined, and have amazing focus when it comes to doing exactly what THEY want to do?  Oh, and that they are hard to train?

I just don't get it.  Ozzie loves to play with other dogs at the dog park, and he loves to play with the other dogs in the family.  I have never seen him act unfriendly ever.  Except toward Gene.  He gets along perfectly with all the other creatures he meets.  You can see below how he and another dog at the dog park are sharing a toy.  And he is great with Remy.  They have a game they play where they pass a toy back and forth to each other and then chase all around the house.  Ozzie has always played great with others.  So what is the deal with Gene?  Have you ever met anyone you just despised on sight?  Same here, but I don't try to kill them.  Sigh.

Egg On My Face

I take back every single nice thing I ever said about him.  I never should have bragged about how dog training was going so well.  Ozzie is incorrigible and will never be a good dog.  Ever.

These are brand new designer shoes I paid a bloody fortune for, and wore for a total of about 30 minutes.  I just bought them TUESDAY for heaven's sake.  Did I mention they cost a fortune?  Look at that. 

I have one very very naughty Welsh Terrier, from champion blood lines, who cost a gazillion dollars who, right now, I would give to the very first person who said they would have him.  Let's hope I feel differently before I get  a hundred offers for him.  Seriously.  I am sick about these shoes.  My first and probably only orange python gladiator style wedges I will ever have in entire my life.

He is staying outside for the rest of his short life.  I mean it.  Let him chew on the garden hose for all I care. 

Ozzie Meets Remy--Seriously Cute Photos Below

Allow me to introduce Remy.  Remy is a nine week old West Highland Terrier, just adopted by my daughter Sara and her husband.  Isn't he just the most adorable little fluff of fur you ever saw?  My sister Andrea and I got to puppy sit the little guy this week, and as I had Ozzie with me, the two pups got to meet each other.  We weren't too sure how successful their introduction would be because Ozzie out weighs little Remy by about 15 pounds!  Guess what?   It went all right!  We watched them like hawks, not knowing what to expect.  At first meeting Remy was calm and Ozzie was cautious.

They sniffed at each other and got acquainted.  Ozzie was extremely excited, and I hoped that he would not feel that he is now second fiddle to the new kid in town.  Jealousy can be an unattractive trait in some terriers, but Ozzie just seemed curious and anxious to get his new friend to play with him.  Remy exhibits the most mellow puppy personality I have ever encountered.  He is a total Chill Pill.  Ozzie, by comparison, seems positively hyper.  He was surprizingly gentle with his new little friend however, and I was proud of him.  I think Remy may be a calming influence on Ozzie!

Remy brought two little toys with him to play with for the day:  a purple platypus and a colorful caterpillar.  His favorite seems to be the caterpillar, and he let Ozzie play with the platypus.  Remy can share.  Unlike Ozzie, who managed to take both the platypus and the caterpillar away from Remy.  "Hah!  Now I have ALL the toys, you little pip squeak.  Whadda you gonna do about it?"

That little ball of white fur is Remy, fearlessly launching himself at Ozzie, determined to at least get his caterpillar back.  We sure didn't see that coming!  About time somebody taught Ozzie he isn't the king of the world.

Ta da!  The element of surprise works wonders on the big kids on the playground.    Wheeee! 

Why, I Oughtta.....

Ozzie!  What did you do?  Look at me....

Bad dog.  That is not a toy.  That is a very expensive ball of yarn I was saving for something.  How did you get that?   Oh Ozzie.  What am I going to do with you?

I was in my sewing room, trying to cut out the red, white and green fabric everyone told me should be my next project, and was concentrating really hard.  I had chosen a Miss Rosie pattern called Toulouse for the quilt, and it involved cutting  an awful lot of 1 1/2 inch squares.  I mean A LOT of squares.  I took a break long enough to check my email, where I had a message from Lisa, suggesting I simplify things and do strip piecing instead of cutting all those squares.  Bother.  Why didn't I think of that?  Harumph.  Luckily, I think I have enough fabric to cut out the strips I need.

Back to the sewing room, where I find Ozzie has helped himself to a ball of yarn from the knitting basket and has made a royal mess of things.

Honestly, things are just not going all that well today.  My husband left for a week's trip, trusting that Ozzie and I would stay out of trouble.  He has only been gone for five hours and look at the pickle we are in.

Man, oh man.  I was the one who wanted a dog. 

Have a great weekend everyone!!

Ozzie Goes To The Beach

istockphoto

The weather has been quite spectacular here in the Monterey Bay area, so I decided to take Ozzie for a walk on the beach.  He had such a relatively successful time at his first dog training class, and I thought he deserved a bit of a reward.  It was a sunny day, temps in the high 60's, fresh air in abundance, so we hit the road and drove the short distance to the coast.

Once in the parking lot at the beach, I opened the door to the car, and Ozzie jumped out, full of pep and enthusiasm.  He pulled and tugged at the leash in his hurry to get out to the strange light colored substance just off the parking lot.  "What?"  He put the brakes on so fast he nearly did a somersault.  Turns out he isn't too sure about sand.   And those sea gulls!?!?!?  "Holy cr*p!"  (I'm interpreting loosely here, based on his body language).

Then he noticed the water.  The sound of the waves was surprisingly loud, and they were very very large.  He trembled and shook for a moment while he considered it, and then turned and ran for his life back to the car.

Just then a crazy homeless person came rushing up to us, scooped Ozzie up in a bear hug, and said "OOOOH, an Airedale!  He is going to get just HUGE, isn't he?"  Oooo-kaaay.  Now totally panicked, Ozzie wriggled and squirmed and finally got out of the man's clutches and continued his race to safety.  So I guess now I know he doesn't bite when he is scared, which is a good thing. Ozzie I mean, not the tramp.  I said calmly to the person, "I think he is a little scared of the beach, so 'Buh-bye' now'".

We got back to the car, and I thought, "No way.  We can't be deterred from enjoying this fine day, just because of a few mishaps right down by the beach.  Come on, Ozzie, let's walk on the nice safe boardwalk".  After he pulled himself together, looking at me doubtfully, he allowed me to drag lead him towards the boardwalk.  That went a bit better, (kids on bikes, babies in strollers, old folks out for a stroll) but there was an alarming barking sound just up ahead.  We rounded a bend and there was a rock out in the bay, just covered with seals, all barking their heads off at the fishing boats and the sea gulls. 

That was the final straw.  Our day at the beach was over.

We are back home now, and it took awhile for him to forgive me.

Aw, come on Oz.  No harm, no foul, right?  Live in the moment.  Give us smile honey....

Ozzie Got A Haircut

Ozzie got a Big Boy haircut!!  No, it didn't turn his eyes green---I don't know what that is all about.  My poor skills as a photographer most likely.

Doesn't he look like a proper gentleman?  Don't be fooled.  The groomer (who we have known through three generations of family dogs) said he fought tooth and nail every minute of the experience. 

Since Ozzie likes to be warm, we figured he might appreciate a nice cashmere sweater that had belonged to our last pet, Jeeves.  Grandpa Jeevies wore this red sweater with pride for a number of years and always seemed to appreciate its warmth.  Not every dog is priveleged enough to wear cashmere.  We washed the sweater and put it on Ozzie and this is what he did to it.

He doesn't even care that he destroyed a family treasure.  The one thing my husband saved from Jeeves.  Honestly, Ozzie is so naughty.  This is the last straw.  His reign of terror is so over.  He starts Puppy Kindergarten next week.