Mondays With Muttsie

 Every Monday, Grammie comes to play with me for the day.  Mummy and Daddy go to work so I get to have Grammie all to myself.

I always watch for her out the window.  I love all the cars on our street and always holler out 'Car!' when I see one.

When Grammie comes in I run to the door and give her a big hug and holler 'Hi!'  She gives me lots of kisses and hugs.

I like to play with this bear toy because I can run fast with it and it makes funny noise.

After a little while I decide I need a snack and get Grammie to open the pantry door so I can see what I want.

I like to cuddle with my doggy Bmer a lot.

Then it's time to play some more.  I like to play.

I also like to try on Grammie's funny shoes.  They're a little big on me though.

Time for lunch!  Hmm, I wonder what I'll have today.

I really like Grammie's baked beans.  I hope she brought me some!

After lunch I like to read a few books.  Before you know it, Grammie says it's time for a nap.  I run to the stairs and Grammie says 'You're a smart little muttsie'.  She's got all kinds of funny names for me.

I don't like to have a nap so Grammie rocks me and sings to me and I fall right asleep.

After my nap, I check out the window for cars again.  Soon Daddy comes home and I holler 'car car car!' and when he gets out of his car I holler 'hi hi hi'.

Then Grammie goes home. 

The end.

Fleeing.

Yesterday ole Mr LC and I were weaving on the back country roads in our truck on a mission to get some hay for Sassy.  You remember Sassy right?

Haute Coutre at its best.

You remember Mr LC right?

Mug shot.

Wait.  You remember me right?

Just joshin' y'all.


Anyway, back to my point.  While drifting through the snowdrifts in our truck, I mentioned to Mr LC that this was a far cry from Paris and was our cheapskate European adventure just a dream?

When we got home, I had to go through our pictures just to make sure we were really there.  I am now going to bore you with a story of our trip to the Paris Flea Market.

For starters, in Paris the flea market is called les Puces.  Nice, eh?  Since we traversed the Metro the day before with the cousins we figured we were all that and could handle the Metro on our own, no problem.  Down to the depths of the underground we go.  Up we come and check out the map for a good twenty minutes.  Down to the depths we go again.  We actually made it even with a transfer to another line.  We were pumped.

We come up out of the metro expecting to see the flea market staring us in the face.  It did not. We were way on the outskirts of Paris in a sort of immigrant neighbourhood with lots of burly darkish skinned men standing about in groups smoking and talking profusely with each other. (not in French if you catch my drift)

Mr LC got all brave and asked one fellow if he spoke English.  No, he said. We talked to him anyway and asked him where the Puce was.  Down by the bridge he says IN ENGLISH.  We looked far off into the distance and spotted the bridge.

Now if you get to the flea market don't be discouraged when you come to all these booths with swarthy looking men selling knock offs.  They holler at you but DO NOT ENGAGE.  You will be buying more counterfeit sports wear than you know what to do with if you even nod at them.  To say I was nervous would be an understatement.  I kept wanting to go back to the metro but Mr LC was adamant. This excursion was to be the highlight of his trip and by gum, he was going to the Paris Flea or bust.  After walking through about a block of knock offs we found the entrance!!! We found it, we found the mother lode.

I only took a couple of photos because a lot of vendors don't like it.  I asked the owner of this place and he said yes and then he added 'for ten euros'.  Thankfully, he was joking.

I never saw so much silver in my life.  Mr LC was in seventh heaven as he is an avid collector.  He really wanted to get a chandelier though.  Yeah, right.  Super expensive.  I thought most things were high but Mr LC found a deal and got two beautiful serving spoons for one euro each.  I found a teeny tiny miniature cottage for a euro and that was the extent of our purchases.  I was on the hunt for linens but I fear they must have all been shipped to America because there was nothing there.  I saw some neat old metal numbers but I wasn't going to pay ten euros each for them.

Needless to say we arrived back at our apartment safely and headed out to the Paris opera house that evening.  That is a story for another day though.

Most importantly, Sassy got her hay and will be fed for another month.

Broken Item of the Week

Yes Gentle Readers, I'm back with another tale of woe.  I've been really good as of late and haven't broken anything on my watch.


Until now.


You remember this lovely chair, don't you?

I cleaned it all up for lovely, pregnant Daughter #2

She does not look like this now.

On Monday, I went to look after the grandson as per usual.  As per usual I rocked him to sleep for his nap. (I spoil him)  All of a sudden, this happened:

Disclaimer: No babies were hurt in the making this BIOTW

I see you laughing Steve

Rollin' in the Dough.

I mean bread dough.  Literally.  I read The Gardner's Cottage latest post on how to make an inexpensive and thoughtful hostess gift of homemade artisan bread and was very impressed.  Mostly though, I just wish I lived near an Ikea.

The Gardner's Cottage

Daughter #1 called yesterday and asked if she could come over and help her make The Pioneer Woman's Cinnamon Rolls With much trepidation I agreed.  Have you seen that recipe?  Do you know how many rolls that recipe makes?

So Daughter shows up around 8pm.  Yes, 8pm to make yeast rolls.  Scores of yeast rolls.

Eight pans worth of yeast rolls.

I think we finished up around 11pm.

Yes, that is pure butter she is slathering around the dough.

 She stood in front of the clock to verify how late is was.

All packed up and ready to go.  I think by the time I got her home and back to my place it was after midnight.  I'm a senior!  I don't stay up this late!

I had to laugh.  There's Janet's elegant healthy bread and here's our heart attack waiting to happen bread.  There's enough butter and sugar in those cinnamon rolls to clog the arteries of ten people I'm sure.

They sure are tasty though.

Chuckle for the Week and some Good Things.

If you want to have a good laugh atmyexpense go visit my daughter's blog Broken Poet .  I hope everybody's whipping up some great plans for their Christmas Festivities.



Here's a great gift giving idea for you at An Urban Cottage

Photo from An Urban Cottage

I'm expecting one of these any day now.


These look good enough to eat.

Photo by The Domestic Fringe

So does this:

Photo by The Gardner's Cottage

I can't believe this was last Christmas.

He's a whole lot bigger now:

October - One year old!

Go do some Good Things.

I Will Remember

One of the best things about my Cheapskate two country European Vacation was that it turned into four countries. Double the fun!

Anyway, we went to Luxembourg for two days and it was wonderful.  Very chic and civilized as well.  No shops open on Sundays!  Since we were there on a Sunday we decided to take a drive.  One of our stops was a war cemetery. This was for American soldiers. The Americans liberated Luxembourg after the Second World War.

To say it was moving can hardly do justice to the way it made me feel.

It was so quiet and peaceful and holy.

I loved the Jewish markers with the stones placed on them from visitors. Maybe family from America.

There were crosses as far as the eye could see.  All made from the most beautiful pure white marble. I just kept repeating In Flanders Fields over and over in my head.

There was also a lovely memorial that had a tiny chapel inside.

Above is the ceiling in the chapel.

This is the gatehouse.  The whole cemetery was immaculate.


I have always wanted to visit a war memorial in Europe and I never thought I would.  I'm so glad I did.  I had an uncle who served in the war and when he came home he would never talk about it.  I just cannot imagine what these people went through but I was so glad I could pay tribute to them in my small way.



Always remember.  Never forget.

Arc de Triomphe

I love Joni Mitchell don't you?

I was a free man in Paris
I felt unfettered and alive
Nobody calling me up for favours
No one's future to decide.

I loved the Arc de Triomphe.  Seriously.

I look so happy.

I never thought all that much about it until I saw all the history recorded there.  It honours all those who fought and died for France in the Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars.

Here's a view from the top.  I didn't go up on this one but Mr LC did.

Guess who's peeking over there.

I just love the architecture.  The white stone kills me.

My son-in-law's grandfather fought in the Resistance.  Then he married a German girl, had two kids, and moved to Canada.

It's much bigger than it looks.  It's such a busy spot, being in the center of a roundabout, traffic whizzing by constantly.

I would love to be free in Paris.

Seriously.