Brammy Turns Two

Monday was Bram's second birthday and boy does time fly! It seems like just yesterday we were making the trip to Connecticut to meet a little female from the same litter only to find myself head over heels in love with a little boy who had more personality than could be contained in such a tiny body and who was equally suffering from love at first sight with me as well. We celebrated his big day on Sunday though, as I wasn't going to be home on Monday evening and didn't want to have to rush his gifts and cake. He got a gift of his own and one to share with Edison and both boys wore tiny fezzes with tassels I made for them last week. The little Man of the Hour also wore a lime green marabou boa to show just how festive he could be and both boys dined on a teeny tiny homemade butter sponge cake with vanilla icing. A grand time was had by all, even those who donned hats they may have preferred to have not been forced to wear in the first place!

HAPPY 2ND BIRTHDAY BRAM EBENEZER, MOMMY'S LITTLE BRAMMY-DOODLE!

Boys With Bling

Okay, so maybe 'bling' isn't exactly the best choice of adjective, but they are some well-accessorized boys. I made these necklaces for my little men in the hopes of balancing their energy just a teensy bit when we're out and about in the world. Each of the twelve stones used in them was chosen for their specific properties: grounding and centering, inducing a sense of calm, being outgoing and making friends easily, courage without swagger, and safety from theft or injuries. A few of the stones are simply to bring them a long, healthy and very happy life.

I was shopping for a second red stone to complement the coral and while in a bead shop asked the clerk if she had any red jasper, a stone known for its grounding energy. She looked around and told me she hadn't any jasper, but she did have carnelian. I laughed. She looked confused. I told her that yes, carnelian is a beautiful rich red stone, but it's used to give a fearless voice to those who wear it. I explained that I have two little chihuahuas, a breed known for its incessant yapping and which for my men is always even worse (if this is even possible) when we're out in public. The last thing I would want around my boys' necks is something that will give them even more bark.

Do I honestly think this dog jewelry will in any way modify the out-of-control behavior my tiny men exhibit when we're out and meet new people or, even worse, other dogs? No. But that doesn't mean I can't wish for it as hard as I possibly can, and for my boys to look uber-stylish while I'm doing it.

Edison and Bram's matching necklaces are made of aventurine, obsidian, polished red coral, aquamarine, amethyst, jade, tiger's eye, red jasper, smoky quartz, blue lace agate, turquoise and hematite. Each necklace also has a tiny sterling silver peace sign that dangles from the clasp.

Mouse Trouble

Literally every single night Maia Louise sits by the radiator in the corner of the dining room, waiting and watching, on the off-chance a stray mouse will climb up the pipes from the cellar and make its way into the house. She's done this every single night since one lousy mouse did this ages ago. Talk about stubborn. Well, her persistence finally paid off as one very chilly little mouse recently made the mistake of climbing up those pipes. And of course once it did, all hell broke loose. The cat grabbed the mouse and did what cats do to them, the boys went berserk because the cat was going nuts. I dove at the men to get them out of the way while Griffin cornered the cat and tried to get the poor mouse away from her so we could let it go outside. The dogs were thrilled that the cat was being both yelled at and shaken and insisted on being involved because they love when Maia gets in trouble (after all, what self-respecting dog doesn't love a good cat bashing?). The noise level was absolutely insane for quite some time with animals running pell mell all around the downstairs chasing mice, chasing cats and dodging humans. I finally managed to corral the boys behind a barricade at the foot of the foyer stairs, which of course only made them bark more, -and this was just pure luck- the now bleeding mouse got away and went right back down that pipe on its own. It probably figured it was far better off taking its chances out in the cold and rain of that night than to stay in this madhouse. It took another 20 minutes to get Edison to stop barking at everyone in a stern, lecturing voice about how all this was totally uncalled for. Edison is quite a persnickety little dog.

And then, less than a week later: another mouse. I knew there was a mouse in the dining room again as the cat was on alert and Bram was running around and around the table and chairs frantically sniffing the carpet, intently focused on the hunt. I couldn't find it though, which isn't a surprise given how tiny a field mouse is and the fact that with nothing but period lighting in our house, it's virtually impossible to even see your hand before your face after sundown. Three hours later I found Bram in the dining room, growling his hilarious little helium growl at David's Gibson propped in a corner. I picked the guitar up and sure enough, there was a little field mouse hunkered down behind it, bum against the baseboard, freaking out. I called Griffin down to help me. On went two pairs of rubber dishwashing gloves and out came a little bag in which to place the mouse for its trip back outdoors. I moved the guitar and Griffin grabbed the thing, plopped it into the bag and we both went outside together to let it go. Griffin set the bag down, the mouse came out onto the lawn, briefly looked surprised to find itself out there in the cold, and took off running with absolutely no hesitation around the side of the house, through the shade garden beneath my kitchen windows, up our ancient fieldstone foundation and right back into the house between those stones. It took it less than three seconds and the damn thing was back inside the warm house well before Griffin and I even reached the back steps, let alone got back indoors ourselves. I half expected to see it already up and out of the cellar, back in the toasty dining room, with a very tiny but smug and satisfied look on its face.

Photo courtesy of Mazart on flickr.

The Ride Home

And here are the men on the return trip home and utterly tuckered out from their day walking the beach and climbing cemetery hills in the wind and chill. Brammy refused to get into his bed that he had vomited in earlier, despite my having carefully washed it out and lined it with a thick dry towel. Eventually, his fatigue won out, and he climbed in and settled down for a long snooze on the ride home, much cozier in his bed than on the bare car seat.

Beach Boys

The boys spent a very blustery and chilly fall day at the beach. Despite the fact that at times they looked as though they would have liked to be anywhere but where they were, they did have some fun. Bram, who had never been to the beach before, was endlessly fascinated with the enormous piles of kelp drying at the high tide line, and both boys couldn't get enough of sniffing the various leftover dead bits of seagull dinners. They got good and sandy, smelled a bit too strongly of seaweed, dead marine life and a small amount of vomit (courtesy of Bram's brief episode of car sickness en route) and so after a very long and tiring day, they had a very satisfying dinner, a nice warm bath, and went to bed smelling like two sweet little boys once again.

How to Properly Cook Your Chihuahua

I'm forever telling my boys I'm going to bite their legs, or that they should come over to me so I can chew on their faces, and of course, they always do. Then while I'm snuggling them and munching on them, I tell them how, if I were to ever cook and eat them, I would prepare and serve them.

Edison, being quite lean, would be ideal for a summer supper, served outdoors on the patio with a gentle warm breeze blowing. He'd be grilled with a light lemon glaze, served with a tossed green side salad and some not-too-spicy watermelon salsa. We'd enjoy strawberry margaritas and we'd follow him with some fresh fruit and a homemade sorbet for dessert.

Bram, however, being the chubby little guy he is, would best be served on a cold, cold winter night. With that thick layer of fat he wears, he'd crisp up nicely as a roast and would be delicious with a rich gravy, assorted root veggies and mulled cider. A warm pumpkin pudding with french vanilla ice cream would follow him nicely.

And if you asked them, my boys would insist that the dreaded cat be served first as an appetizer, preferably as something filleted. They'd have it no other way.

Please note for those of you who either don't get humor or have no sense of humor: I'm kidding. I would never engage in any form of animal cruelty nor would I eat my boys. I might nosh on a cocker spaniel, but never a chihuahua.

Photo courtesy of jenida on flickr.

Vintage Chihuahuas

Here are two more vintage photos of chihuahuas from long ago and far, far away. The chihuahua in the first photo doesn't seem to be enjoying his summer beach holiday at all (who ever heard of a chi who didn't like the sun??), while the lady in the second one looks far too unhappy for someone who is holding (and most likely also owning) one of the tiniest and cutest little babies I've seen in a vintage photo in a long time. How could anyone be that depressed who owns a chi? Maybe that's why the little munchkin is gazing off with such a wistful expression on its tiny face. Perhaps it's dreaming of someone who's a bit more fun than this bummer of a human?

Top photo courtesy of carlafrances on flickr.

Bottom photo courtesy of mdchunko on flickr as well.