Daxohol

Sometimes War Is Cute

War.  It's terrible amoung humans, but DAMN cute amoung kittens and puppies. 

For Kitty Lovers

For Puppy Lovers

Oy! Show Us Ya DUCKS!

We have a special treat for you today on Daxohol. 

Not to be outdone by an Irish phone-in show in Dublin my mother was a guest on, my mother graciously granted me an exclusive interview about her collection of Rubber Ducks.

How Many Ducks?

300-400, I am afraid to count them again.

Why Rubber Ducks? 

They are cute and unusual and everyone else thinks they are all the same. Like any collector I like the challenge of the chase. You never know where or when you will find a new duck. Last fall I went to a drug store to pick up some formula or something for Dax and found a new chubby-cheeked duck family, one of the most unique modern molds I've seen lately. I  have bought some on ebay, but that's no fun.

Speaking of molds, ducks come in hundreds of molds and even more varied paint jobs. There are old-fashioned ducks that are very ornate and modern ones with clean lines. There are yellow ducks coloured ducks and dressed-up ducks. Some are squeaky, some are sealed floaters, good to put in  the bath, some are squirt ducks  that are fun to play with.

It's impossible to get all the ducks, so there's no pressure to do that. I used to get all the ducks I could find, but now I only get the ones I like. 

When I do find a new duck, it is generally pretty cheap to buy. You can get into antique ducks that cost a hundred dollars or more, but most ducks cost  1 -10 dollars.

There is a community of duck collectors who hang out on www.duckplanet.com. Charlotte, the proprietor has a collection of over 1000 ducks, all photographed and posted online. It is the canonical reference of rubber ducks. They are a great bunch of people, and as you might guess everyone has a great sense of humour.

How did you get started?

Once upon a time I painted the bathroom yellow. It was really boring.  Then your sister found some ducky accessories, soap dish, toothbrush holder, etc. to dress the place up. I got a couple of squeaky ducks to set around and go with the theme. Then I went on a vacation in the US and started seeing them everywhere. Cute ducks of different shapes and sizes and expressions, some wearing little hats. Before I knew it I had crossed the line between decor and collection.

So it's all your sister's fault. Other wonderful things in my life are your fault, but the ducks can definitely be blamed on your sister.

Where do you find them all?

Everywhere. Toy stores, department stores, drug stores, baby stores, bath stores, grocery stores, flea markets, thrift stores, to name  some. There are more duckies available in the US than in Canada, but we have had some that are not available in the US.

What is your Favourite Duck? 

I don't really have one. I keep the newest ones in the living room where I can gloat over them before they go to join the others in the bathroom and spare bedrooms.

Some I love because we share some history or are connected to a trip or event. The flowered ducks I found in Hawaii. The modern chubby-cheeks ducks I found because of Dax and will take to Sandra so she can enjoy them even far away from us. 

Charlie is very special. I had been looking for a duck of his ilk for a long time - he is a foot tall  and a foot long. I found him on a very wonderful vacation with The Man Whose Name Must Not Be Mentioned.  A few days later this man (who was afraid of water and cannot swim) plunged into the ocean to rescue Charlie when a wave threatened to wash him away while we were hanging out at our favorite rocky beach. 

Charlie, who is asexual, later dressed up as a bride for Sandra's wedding and yours, part of a bride and groom couple. Dax seems especially fond of him also, just like big machines and big guys, he likes big ducks. Later that man crushed my heart like a piece of scrap paper, but Charlie remains as a legacy of  life-renewing times with him, love lost (his), love growing (my daughters and their wonderful husbands) and love expanding (my grandson Dax, the most wonderful little boy in the world).

Other ducks I love - a set of coloured squirt ducks from Walmart, an old Rempel walking duck from the 40's.  A family with babies wearing diapers with little pins. A Devil duck with racing flames down the side from Chicago, from Dax's Dad. 

Daxohol blames Gnomes.  Do you blame Ducks at anytime?

No, I don't. It's not their fault that I am running out of wall space to cover with shelves. Rubber duckies are cheery and optomistic. They speak of simpler times when batteries were not required, and toys were loved as dear friends and kept for years.

I blame Murphy, who has made his presence known in my life quite frequently.

Cheerio Tea

Yesterday I invented Cheerio Tea.  I made myself a tea, then noticed that we were out of 2% milk.  Then I remembered I used the last of the wholemilk for Daxons cheerios. Since Dax's cheerios were nicely marinated in milk, in my caffine desperation, I poured the excess into my tea.  Turns out, Cheerio Tea is a bit on the ass side.

The moral of this story?  Cheerio Tea is ass.  Not an invention worth patenting.

 

The Leathality of Family Guy

Ever wonder what chewed up Pop Tart looks like on a plate?  I never wondered about it, but I found out on Sunday when I was watching the new Family Guy.  Family Guy nearly killed me.  When Peter Griffin made a water slide on the stairs and fell, I had to expel the Pop Tart in an effort to save my life.

The lesson I learned was not to have anything in your mouth while watching Family Guy.  As dirty as that sounds, heed my warning.  Someone can get seriously hurt, or die.

However, if I ever forget, and die while watching Family Guy, please tell Seth to feel free and use my death as a joke on the show.  It would be fitting if the last voice I heard was Norm MacDonald's. "Dammit Laura, you made me come all the way to Canada over a Pop Tart? Come on."  That would be okay I guess.  Weird, strange but okay.

The Feline Affair

There are two cats that are outside most of the time in our neighbourhood.  One is a beige tabby (who happens to look very much like Muggsy) and the other one is black with a long-hair.

These cats are pals.  They are not from the same house but you'd think they where by the way they are with each other.  They kiss each other, play together and just sit and hang out together.

Both them came over to join me while I sat on the porch relaxing while Daxon was having a marathon nap.  I was petting them and talking to them.  For a second I felt like the Crazy Cat Lady from the Simpsons.  The improviser in me thought it would be funny if I started yelling incoherent things and threw one of the cats at a kid walking by.  I chuckled to myself.  Then I got this feeling I was being watched.  I looked behind me and in my living room window sat Muggsy.  Sitting there staring at me.  The look on his face is permanently burned into my memory.  It was the look of a kitty scorned.  I immediately stopped petting the cats and went inside the house.  As I closed the door behind me, Muggsy looked at me and went uptairs.  I followed him.  I told him, "It's not what you think!  They're just friends!"  He refused to acknowledge me.  I continued, "They wouldn't take no for an answer!  I tried to stop them!"  He jumped onto the bed and sat with his back to me.  "I love you Muggsy.  There are no other cats.  I swear.  I wouldn't lie to you."  He looked over his shoulder at me. Then he flipped onto his back, waiting for me to pet his tummy.  I pet him.  Hard, so he could feel it.  His purring was a sign that he had forgiven me.  For now at least, until he the next time he coughs up a hair ball during the night beside the bed so I step in it when I wake up in the morning.  "Take that you three timing CAT WHORE!" 

Happy Belated Mother's Day!

Happy Belated Mothers Day!!

I would have posted Sunday, but you see, I was too busy putting Daxon’s hat back on his head, eating KFC and licking pralines and cream ice cream.  I would have posted last night, but I was too busy removing the worms from my computer’s intestines. 

Our morning started out scary.  Daxon woke up twice in the night (which is rare), then decided that his day shall begin at 6:30am.  OBSCENE!  Gary did what every smart father does on Mothers Day and let me sleep.  I find it to be no coincidence that Daxon woke up far ahead of schedule on his birthday and on Mothers Day.  He is trying to make some sort of point.  What it is I’m not exactly sure.  Nor do I really care, as I am Mumma, and I win. 

We spent the morning outside playing.  We watched some guy zipping around on a very cute little mini dirt bike.  I think it was a 50.  It was so tiny!  So was the guy’s brain riding it!  He looked like a spider all crunched up on this bike that was obviously not built for his size or weight.  He took that bike as fast as it could go.  He had no protective gear.  No helmet, knee or elbow pads.  I was already psyching myself to witness one of the following:

1. a head shatter on the road.
2. what a human looks like after being run through concrete cheese grater.

Unfortunately, or fortunately I can’t decide which, neither of the above happened.  Which saves Daxon and I both some mental scarring, but doesn’t teach that guy any lesson and he will probably go on to do other equally or more stupid things.

In the afternoon, we went to visit Nana R.  Daxon and Jake The WonderDog had much fun together.  Two peas in a pod those two.  Actually, it’s probably more like, Daxon is the “buffoon”, and Jake The WonderDog as the “straight man” who thinks “Holy Crap, get this effing kid a cookie would ya so he’ll leave me the eff alone!  How many times do I have to lick this kid’s fingers?”

My second Mother’s Day was wonderful.  I went to bed feeling loved, cherished and appreciated.  From everyone except (big surprise here) my cat Muggsy.  Plug.

5th in Satanism...Hmmmm

I know it's so cliche for me to even say this, but...I never do these things, but I thought this one was interesting...

You scored as Paganism. Your beliefs are most closely aligned with those of paganism, Wicca, or a similar earth-based religion. You may also follow a Native American religion.

Paganism 79% Buddhism 71% Christianity 71% Hinduism 63% Satanism 63% agnosticism 58% Judaism 29% Islam 29% atheism 25% Which religion is the right one for you? (new version) created with QuizFarm.com

Visions

Today's weather started out kinda cloudy...it even rained a bit in the morning.  By afternoon though, the sun came out and it was just gorgeous.  Today my mother enjoyed a sun filled day with roosters down on Grand Caymen Island.  Altogether now...BITCH!

The Daxohol family ventured outside to say hello to some neighbours who emerged from hibernation.  Then we drove to a park we'd never been to before.  Daxon had fun on the swing and played on the grass.  He picked dandilions, and as it turns out...Mumma had a baby and her head actually popped off.  Since I didn't have a c-section, something, somewhere had to give.  And really, who's head wouldn't pop off giving birth to an over 10 pound baby?  My head fortunately healed quite nicely.  I credit breastfeeding.  What?  Isn't breastfeeding the be all and end all cure for everything?  Just think of all those mothers of big babies out there that couldn't or wouldn't nurse...all those heads...just rolling.  Poor babies. 

Daxon had a blast crawling around on the grass, trying to eat severed dandilion heads for his afternoon snack.  Gary swooped him up onto his shoulders and brought him over to a tree.  I sat on the grass and watched from afar.  Daxon looked up at the leaves.  The sun was catching his hair, bringing out the red highlights.  His hairs danced in the wind.  The air was sweet.  Daxon reached up to touch a leaf.  Gary brought him closer to the branches, so Daxon could pluck a fresh leaf with his pudgy little fingers.  Gary brought him so close, that the little branches jabbed Daxon straight in the eyes.

I yelped and nearly threw up.  As it turned out, Dax was just fine and thought it was funny.  Gary, shrugged it off claiming "Meh, what doesn't kill will make him stronger!".  This coming out of the mouth of the same man who gets angry when he sees a 5 year old riding on one of those pansy quarter operated pony rides at the mall without a parent holding onto the child.

It was a beautiful day.  A wonderful prelude to my Mothers Day.  But we all know a certain Mother on Caymen Island who will spend her Mother's Day being served by monkey's on the beach. 

Daxohol Smooches Auntie Tita and Unckie Redneck

I know, it's been really sappy around here lately and I'm probably making a few people throw up or take a break.  But, I have to do this edition of Sloppy Smooches now because I think these folks should read this now.

Auntie Tita and Unckie Redneck.

Where do I begin.  Think of this couple as a wild western cowboy ho-down in the midst of a gorgeous summer sunrise.  The ho-down? Unckie Redneck.  The gorgeous sunrise?  Auntie Tita.

Auntie Tita wakes at the crack of dawn.  She goes to school, she's a mother to her beautiful daughter, and a loving, caring and very attentive wife to Unckie Redneck.  She knits.  She cross-stitches.  I swear there are times when she goes into "Matrix Mode".  She appears to be going in slow motion, but really, she is moving far too fast.

This woman doesn't hold back the love.  No.  It's not what you think.  She's not that kind of woman!  She tells you she loves you any chance she can get.  She could probably write these Sloppy Smooches posts for everyone every single day.  If you are sitting there eating a muffin, or just cleaning your floors, she will launch into a biggest proclaimation of love completely unprovoked.  And it's all genuine.  Seriously, this woman loves her friends THAT MUCH. 

That is one reason why I treasure her. 

Auntie Tita would get along great with the Complimenting Commenter.  She loves to make people smile and make people feel good no matter who you are. One of her hobbies is to compliment total strangers.  If a woman ever holds the door open for you, and then tells you that you look great in that suit, or that your eyes are pretty, chances are you've just been Tita-ed.  Her philosophy is that the world is a cold and negative place most of the time.  People need to hear good things coming from strangers.  They need to taste the raw happiness that a nice, sincere compliment from a stranger can generate.  It can make your day.  It can even change a life.

Let's shift the focus to Unckie Redneck.  He's a cowboy.  Seriously. He's tall, slim and he has a mustache.  He wears cowboy hat and boots. All he is missing is a horse and a gun.  But he's a Canadian cowboy so he uses a fishing pole instead of a gun.  It's just as effective! You should see the damage a hook can do if you whip it at someone 10,000 times in one second.  Yup, cross him and that is the kind of force you are reckoned with pawtna. 

He and Unckie Science Bear have grown up together.  Which means, though Unckie Redneck may terrify you to look at him, he has a heart made of pure solid gold. 

*Cartman's voice* Seriously.  I love you guys. 

The Egg Salad Effect

There are some things in my life that are consistant.  Meaning, they stay the same, and are dependable.  For example.  I know that when I get up in the morning, I will always still feel tired.  This is one thing I can count on.  It never changes.  Another example.  My cat is a plug.  He will always be a plug.  He has been a plug for over 5 years, why would he stop being a plug now?  Rest assured, my cat will be a plug everyday.  My friend Robert Bruce and I call this, the Egg Salad Effect.

No matter what event you go to where egg salad sandwiches are being served, it is guaranteed that the egg salad sandwiches will be identical to every other egg salad sandwich you have ever eaten in your life.  Cut in triangles.  Perhaps they may vary in Paprika levels, or be available on white or whole wheat bread, but ultimately, they are carbon copies.  You'll be sure that the little old lady that made them is programmed by the same "Egg Salad" transmitter from outer space that programs every little old lady that makes egg salad sandwiches for large groups of people.  In their core composition, they are the same. Everytime.

So, in what ways is the Egg Salad Effect impacting your life?