That is her. Although if her mouth was open she would be more recognizable.

Here is a picture that made me laugh for a long time and forced me to attempt the same pose. You should do the same.

So awesome, right? Prada, you’re killing me.

Now if only you could figure out how to make me coffee. Or toast, that’s easy.

Oh, and while I don’t like seagulls ever, I did appreciate this one preening itself at the top of a lamp post.

Not a great pic of me, but it was the only one where her eyes were open. Out of 8. She was wide awake.

I’m hoping to get some decent sleep tonight. On top of my usual stresses in life, I lost my skull ring on Monday afternoon. I noticed it missing when we got home from High Park, ugh, and we drove back to do some searching and turned up nada. Tears, many tears were shed. Teeth gnashed. More tears. I turned our rather messy home upside down looking in all the obvious spots, then the less obvious spots and then the ridiculous spots. Nada. Looked everywhere another dozen times. I made posters for the park (honestly, I had no idea where I lost it) and a craigslist ad and told my neighbors and posted on Facebook and twitter.

Agony. My heart was in serious amounts of pain. And then my dad had his hip replacement surgery that did not go as well as planned and when I talked to my mom to find out how he was doing, I burst into tears in the grocery store.

No sleep+stupid amount of stress=crying in public. Vodka helped. Vodka is very helpful in small amounts. Ditto mind numbing video games.

Fast forward to today, 5 days from the day I lost it and guess what? Ari found it on the floor of the truck, in the back seat! I don’t often hug and kiss her, but today was certainly exceptional and I did plant a few on her rosy cheek. As a reward I gave her the pink knitted squid that she has been begging for since I made it. And Shannon got her a new game for her ds.

And my dad is recovering nicely, he is out of bed and enjoying the women’s world cup soccer.

Sleep? Come back please. You are missed!

And I gots my strut on.

This handsome fellow was outside the Skydome Roger’s Centre when I went to the Jays game last Friday against Detroit. Hard for me, what with my serious love of all things Detroit, but I’m a Toronto girl at heart. Birdy was hoping for hotdog bun and birdy was not disappoint.

We don’t have rats inside our space (YET!) but they have been lumping around the compost bins and gardens a bunch. Big holes and I saw a MONSTER rat-a live one-last week that at first I thought was a wet squirrel. Yes, that big.

And this guy (not the monster)  met a not so pleasant end.

I’m going to post date a few more blog entries.

The Irishmen found the cardinals to be so exotic.

I do too. Lovely.

The pink one was especially sad, missing lots of feathers on her neck. They seemed dazed.

I read that they are dyed in utero, while still in the shell, I guess that’s less inhumane than painting them with Manic Panic after.

Other than dead animals, I also very nearly step in dog poop daily.

And fish. And this store hires people that offer BAD fish expertise, it was here that I was told that I must use a cleaning product to get rid of the poop in my pond, which I did do, assuming they were the experts, and one of my fish promptly DIED. A horrible, pain filled, miserable death. That was Kelly #1, she was maybe 14 years old but at least 12, a plain, old, boring ‘feeder’ fish.

Ok, so anyway, I do go in there occasionally to buy fish food for long weekends.  And I do like looking at kitties and puppies and rodents and fish. I love the fish, I love the plecostamus, at the store they’re so tiny, smaller than my pinky finger, unlike Brenda, my pleco, who’s as long as my forearm.  This garbage bin was sitting on the floor beside the tanks with one small fish, dead, laying in it.  It made me sad, poor little fish, no friends, all alone, dead.

She’s the tiny orange blob you can barely see.