Transportation Modus Operandi

I commented in a previous post that there are an ass load of bikers in Madison.  I'm serious.  An ass load.  I don't know exactly what the quantity is in a measurement of "ass load".  I just know it's a lot.  Case in point:  when I pull into the parking garage at the apartment building where I have most recently been staying, this is what I see to my immediate left as I enter the garage.

This isn't that big of an apartment building.  That's an ass load of bikes right there.  For an ass load of bikers.

I was recently talking to an agent about homeowners and car insurance.  During the discussion, he asked me if I was interested in an umbrella policy.  I asked him why I might need one.  I sh*t you not, this was his reply:  "Well, this is Madison and there are a lot of bikers and occasionally a biker gets hit."  So, I may need additional insurance coverage.  Because there are an ass load of bikers in this town. 

On a side note:  I lied to the insurance agent mentioned above when he asked me what kind of dogs I have.  I am well aware there are many insurance companies that won't provide coverage to people who have dogs that are considered "exclusionary breeds".  Pit Bulls are always on the exclusionary breed list.  Many times, Doberman Pinschers are too.  So, I told him I have 2 mixed breeds.  Big fat lie.  I'm a horrible liar.  I just can't do.  As soon as I hung up with the agent, I felt bad.  Lying is wrong and it never pays in the end. I called him right back. I told him I was caught off guard by the question about my dogs and admitted I have a Doberman.  I apologized to him for lying.  He laughed and said, "I'm in the insurance business, we lie all the time.  We call it bending the truth."  

Great.

In addition to seeing the ass load of bikes pictured above, this is the other thing I see almost immediately upon entering the parking garage at my current apartment building.

Who is Jo Flowroshus and why does he/she have these graphics on a Saab??  It took me at least a dozen times of looking at the word "Flowroshus" to figure out how to say it.  Once I got the hang of it, I thought it was kind of cute.  I think I want to be Flowroshus. What is it and how do I make it happen? 

Last comment for now about Transportation Modus Operandi.  Most of you who look at this blog know I work for a company that supports individuals with developmental disabilities.  As a company, we own a fleet of handicap accessible vans and we train our staff in defensive driving.  The window in my office faces the parking lot.  I looked out the other day and saw this.  I had to get picture.

Yup.  That white van is a company vehicle.  Driven to the office and parked by one of our staff.  While we train our staff in defensive driving, we obviously don't train them in parking.

*Sigh*

Pet Love

Rudy

(aka Rudy- Patoody)

When Rudy first came into my life, I was 26 years old and could hold her in the palm of my hand.  She was the tiniest puppy, abandoned in a field in the south side of Columbus.  She was left to die.  It hurts so bad to think of the cruelness of that.  Thankfully, she was rescued.  She turned 14 years old this summer. 

I love this picture.  Such nostalgia.  It was taken when I was still living at The Little House.  I loved, loved, loved The Little House.  One of the downsides of living at The Little House, though, was that there was no central air.  At the time this photo was taken, I was actually looking to leave The Little House and buy a home in Columbus (which ultimately led me to Bendelow Drive).  My realtor who was helping me look for a house is also a friend and fellow dog-lover.  I e-mailed her this picture of Rudy in the midst of my house search.  Here is what she had to say in an e-mail after seeing the picture:  "Rudy hopes the new abode has central air as sometimes she gets too warm when lounging on the sofa."  I'll never forget the exact quote.  It  still makes me laugh.

Rudy is a great dog.  She does all things 'dog'.  Chewing raw hides.  Loves treats and long walks.  Follows us around.  Lays at our feet.  Barks at strangers.  I'm a mantra person.  My mantra for Rudy is:  Rudy's a dog's dog.  Old girl has gotten so gray around her muzzle, feet, and even her little eye-brows.

Simon

(aka Baby Boo Boo)

Simon and his brother, Isaac, were also abandoned and left to fend for themselves.  They were strays in the neighborhood where my parents live.  At the time, I was single and living in The Little House.  I brought Simon and Isaac home in October 2001.  I remember bringing them home on a Sunday afternoon.  Later that night, it rained and turned cold; I brought them home just in time.  It would have been heartbreaking for them to be living on the streets in the damp and cold.  I don't know their exact age, but according to my vet they were about a year old when I got them.  That means Simon and Isaac turned 10 this year.  Simon hates to get his picture taken and that's usually obvious in how he looks in photos.  The shot below is actually a good one of him.  Mama's big boy!

Simon Baby Boo Boo is my big, pretty, lover-boy weighing in at a whopping 23 pounds. Baby Boo Boo is totally his Mama's boy, although he has grown to love his Daddy too. When I have gone home for visits over the past 8 months, Simon is so happy to see me that as soon as I lay down, he lays right on top of me. That's sweet and all, but 23 pounds of cat laying in the middle of your back when you are trying to sleep doesn't necessarily make for restful conditions.  I loved every second of it though.  I love hearing him purrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Isaac

(aka......Isaac)

Isaac is Simon's brother.  While I don't know for sure since they were rescued off the street, I would bet every penny I have that they were litter mates.  It is amazing how similar they are in terms of body movements, postures, even how they switch their tails and the timing of it.  Isaac is an Alpha cat.  He is the Alpha of the entire household as a matter of fact.  He even out-Alpha's me, believe it or not.  He is a beautiful boy and very photogenic.

 

Jada

(aka Baby Jadies)

Anyone who knows me knows I have an affinity for Doberman Pinschers.  If you follow this blog, you may remember my tribute to Emmy; my first Doberman and the love of my life.  After Emmy died, I fostered a couple of Dobermans.  Then, in October 2006 (the year Scott and I met), we adopted Jada from Hand Me Down Dobes, a Doberman Pinscher rescue group.  Jada is a sweet girl and very, very gentle.  We are guessing she is about 9 or 10 years old this year.  Whoever cropped her ears obviously didn't know what in the h*ll they were doing.  When you look at her ears, you can tell someone cut and tried to pin them. It didn't work; they don't stand up.  I tell her all the time, "Jadies, some hillbilly done boogered up your ears."    So, now she has little cut ears that fall forward.  Pitiful and so darn cute.

Is that the cutest picture or what?  Turns me to butter.  She even looks sweet and gentle, doesn't she? 

Typical Doberman, Jada likes to sun herself.

So, there is the furry family.  I have missed them terribly over the past 8 months.  Hopefully.  Hopefully.  We will be together again permanently this coming Tuesday.  My eyes just welled up with tears as I wrote that.  I can hardly wait.

A few other miscellaneous "Pet Love" notes.

Rudy grew up with a cat named Nala.  Having grown up around a cat, Rudy has always been good about living with feline companions.  Let her off a leash outside and she will chase a cat.  But, that's just what dogs do. We don't let her off a leash outside anyways so no real worries there.  In the house, I never have to worry about her messing with the cats.  Jada gets a little excited about the cats sometimes.  Not in an aggressive way.  More in a "I-want-to-chase-them-so-bad-but-I-know-I'm-not-allowed-to" way.  So then she just gets all dance-y and prance-y, like she doesn't quite know what to do with herself.  Rudy though?  Unfazed.  Simon and Isaac don't rile her up a bit.  Here is Rudy-Patoody and Baby Boo Boo together at The Medium House.   

And Rudy and Isaac.

Isaac. Typical cat.  Put a box out and in a matter of minutes, he's in it.  Whether he fits or not.  I'm thinking "not" in the picture above.

For as good as Rudy is with cats, other dogs are a different story.  We weren't sure she could live peacefully with another dog in the house.  But Jada was the perfect fit.  Rudy is dominant and sometimes aggressive towards other dogs.  Jada is submissive and deferential.  Overall they have done really well together.  We've had a few minor episodes. But there was only a small amount of blood and just that one time.  (Yikes) 

Over the past few years, Rudy and Jada have settled in together and been harmonious.  I think Jada kind of likes Rudy.  Rudy only tolerates Jada.  It's funny, though.  Rudy is just about stone deaf.  At this point, she really only hears 3 things: Scott's whistle, my Dad's voice, and Jada barking.  Otherwise, her big, ol', floppy ears just don't work anymore.  Bless her little heart.  It's like Jada knows that Rudy can't hear.  Jada used to never bark.  Rudy, on the other hand, would bark at anyone walking by the house.  Since Rudy can't hear, she is unaware if someone is walking by unless she actually sees them through the window.  Jada has taken it upon herself to "sound the alarm" when someone is walking by.  She gives one warning bark, enough to alert Rudy, and then Rudy takes over from there.  Jumping up. Running to the door or window.  Barking like mad.

When I was home this past June, I took the picture below.  There was a time when Rudy and Jada could not have gotten a drink at the same time.  Rudy would have attacked Jada.  Guess this shot shows progress in their relationship.

 

Isaac and Simon love each other so much.  The bond likely started when they were litter mates and then strengthened when they were fending for themselves on the streets.  However it happened, they are the epitome of true love.  It's obvious how much they adore each other.  Isaac is the Alpha and the protector.  One time Simon got out the back door of The Little House.  Isaac was frantic.  He knew Simon wasn't supposed to be out there.  He kept running from window to window in the house, looking out and trying to find him. 

Want to see pure love?  Here it is.

At The Medium House we had it set up such that there were 2 bird feeders right outside the side living room windows.  We put a couple stools in front of the windows and voila!  Cat entertainment center.  Not sure where we will put a cat entertainment center at the new place in Stoughton.  I guess we'll figure something out once we start to get settled in.

There are the furry children.  Please keep your fingers crossed that next Tuesday all goes as planned and we can move into the house in Stoughton.  Living away from my family for 8 months has been one of the hardest things I've ever done.  It's time that we all share the same address again.  Hopefully.  Hopefully.

Atomic Koi

Since I got myself back on the roll of writing posts about food and drink, I've decided to keep going with it.  Obviously I have a lot of material on the subject matter.  Sad to say, perhaps.

Atomic Koi is a funky bar in an area of town called Fitchburg.  (Click here for link to Atomic Koi website)  Fitchburg was actually my first choice of areas in which to buy a house/live.  It's centrally located in Madison and close to my job.  Scott and I looked at a number of houses in the area but, for one reason or another, none fit the bill.  Unfortunately.  One house that we looked at a couple times was located close to a newly developed area with a library, coffee shop, condos, pizza shop, and Atomic Koi.  We would have been in walking distance to all these things.  I would have loved that so much.  Not to be though, which makes me feel a little sad. 

The picture below is the entrance into Atomic Koi.  It's actually taken from the inside of the bar looking back towards the door.  Stone.  Wood.  Metal.  Very Feng Shui.  

There are a number of different kinds of seating areas.  How cute is the one pictured below??  I love it.

Another seating section.  I dig the hanging lights.

And yet another seating area.  This one by a small fireplace with an interesting, high-backed L-shaped couch.

Atomic Koi has a cool, retro feel to it.  Not only is that evidenced by the seating sections shown above, it was further evidenced by the fact that there was a Ms. Pac Man game in the joint.  It was the table version, where you sit in a chair to play and can play against a competitor who sits across from you.  Remember that?  I never got into video games much as a kid, probably because I wasn't allowed to play them.  Every now and then I would sneak a game of Ms. Pac Man at the TG&Y, but I had to sneak to do it. 

There was an ATM machine inside Atomic Koi. This is a photo of the sign on top of the machine. 

I had a very fine Cosmopolitan, with a twist of lime just the way I like it-- all curly.  You can kind of see it hanging around down there in the bottom of the glass. 

The delicate, curly twist in the Cosmo from Atomic Koi was in stark contract to a Cosmo I had at Madison's downtown.

That ain't no twist.  That's a boat.

Did you happen to watch the Jon Stewart clip on my "I Love Jon Stewart" post?  If not, you should check it out.  It's so flippin' funny.  Just click here to go to the post and then click on the link to the video.  Anyhow, in his very funny clip about Appholes, Jon Stewart mentions a Harvey Wallbanger.  Just saying Harvey Wallbanger makes me giggle.  I don't know why.  Back to my third grade sense of humor, I guess.  When I came across this on the Atomic Koi drink menu, I of course giggled.  I didn't order a Harvey Wallbanger though.  Maybe next time.

The Bayou

I realized that my last 4 posts on this blog have not been about food or drinks.  That may be some kind of a record.  Records are made to be broken, so I'm back at.  Subject:  food and drinks at The Bayou.

The Bayou is a New Orleans style cajun restaurant just off the capitol square in downtown Madison.  Scott and I happened on it by accident as we were driving around looking for a parking spot.  We decided to go in and ended up having dinner there.

It's an interesting place on the  inside.  I've never been to New Orleans, nor ever had any real desire to go (even before Katrina), but I'm guessing the decor and set up in The Bayou is fashioned after traditional New Orleans establishments.  There are murals painted all over the walls and it's two-stories, with an open balcony looking from the upper level to the lower level.   Scott and I had an early dinner that day, so The Bayou wasn't busy when we were there.  We were seated on the second floor, which looked like this.

The pictures below are the view we had from our seats looking over the railing down to the main level.

As we were leaving, we walked by the pool table that is shown in the picture above.  This sign was on the railing of the pool table.

Alrighty then!  Shoot, if I put my big ass on that table, I'd bring it down.

This jester statue was in the middle of the restaurant.  It was huge and painted in beautiful colors, but quite frankly I found it really creepy.  The kind of thing small children would see and then have nightmares about.

People who know me well know that I love a good rum runner.  You can't get a good rum runner just anywhere though, so I rarely order them.  The absolute best rum runners I've ever had were in Deerfield Beach, Florida.  When I used to go visit my friend Stefanie there, we would hang out on the beach for a while but then eventually end up at a bar right on the beach drinking rum runners.  They were so good.  Sitting by the beach, in the warm sun, looking at and listening to the ocean, and drinking a rum runner is just about heaven.  I just sighed and smiled thinking about it.

Rum runners were a featured drink on the menu at The Bayou.  A New Orleans style restaurant-- OK.  I'll do it.  I'll try a rum runner, even though this is Madison, Wisconsin. 

Not bad.  Not as good as the ones in Deerfield Beach, but good enough that I drank two of them.  I ordered some kind of traditional cajun New Orleans/Louisiana dish, jambalaya something or other.  It was really good.  In the picture below, you can see the two rum runners I had working at the same time.  One glass in the upper left of the picture and one in the upper right.  Some people would be embarrassed to admit that.  Not me, of course.  This isn't a very good picture of the food.  I'm not sure why that green thing (garnish) looks so slimy in the picture.  It didn't look like that "live".

True to New Orleans, this banner was hanging up in The Bayou.

We took this shot of the first floor of the restaurant as we were leaving.

It's really a pretty cool looking place.  Except for the creepy jester.  And some of the murals creeped me out a little, too, because they looked so life-like, such as the police officer you can see in the front right of the picture above.  Over all though, the plants, the balcony, the wrought iron all made for a seemingly authentic New Orleans environment.  Would I go back?  Yeah, I think I would.  I noticed on their website that The Bayou is the home of Voodoo juice.  I might go back just for that.

My Husband

If you follow this blog, you know I have a Wisconsin mantra that I write when I see things that fascinate me (usually in a bizarro, out of my realm of experience kind of way).  That mantra is:  "Only in Wisconsin."  I have written the mantra about things such as large statues of cows.

I have a different kind of mantra where my husband is concerned.  It is in question format:  "You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?"  I usually write that immediately before launching into something he does that, like above, fascinates me in a bizarro, out of my realm of experience kind of way.  So, here we go:

You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?

I do love and adore him but that man cannot keep a bathroom straightened up for nothin'.  At our home in Columbus, this is what I usually found when I walked into his bathroom.  

Seriously??  Is it too much to ask to pick the dirty clothes up off the floor and walk into the room immediately next door to the bathroom and put them in a laundry basket?  Is it too hard to put something back where you got it?  For example, if you take the deodorant out of the medicine cabinet to use it, can you not then put the deodorant back in the medicine cabinet when you are done?  Is that difficult??

(Scott had little appreciation for the fact that I took this picture.  I'm sure he will have much less appreciation for the fact that I have posted it on my blog.  Sorry honey.  You know I love you, right?  You know I adore you, right??)

In Columbus, Scott had various reasons (excuses?) why he couldn't keep his bathroom straightened up.  Most of those reasons had to do with the set up of that particular bathroom and that particular house.

January 2010.  500 miles away from that particular bathroom and that particular house.  In my first temporary apartment in Madison.  There is only 1 bathroom.  Scott is here with me for a few days.  This is a picture of the bathroom.  

I assure you that's not my sh*t on the floor.  Two different bathrooms.  Two different residences.  500 miles apart.  Still have clothes piled up on the bathroom floor.

This is a picture of the bathroom in the house we are trying to buy in Stoughton.

As you can see, there are 2 sinks-- indicating Scott and I will be sharing a bathroom.  How do you think that's going to go?

OK. Let me step off the messy bathroom topic.  On to something else.  Mantra is the same:  You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right? 

Scott was recently with me for almost 2 full weeks here in Madison.  A day or two after he left, I was in the kitchen and this caught my eye.

Do you recognize what that is?  Well, the pile of papers is obvious.  But the blue thing.  Do you know what it is?  Yes, that's right.  It is a chewed piece of gum.  I sh*t you not.  My husband, the man I love and adore, took a piece of gum out of his mouth and stuck it on the pile of papers because, what?  He was going to want a piece of ABC gum later?

And then there is this.  Sometimes when I'm motoring around, I will glance at my husband and see this pose.

Think that means he wants something else to drink?  Yes, and apparently he wants me to get it for him.  I wonder what all those hard core feminists that I used to take Women's Studies classes with would have to say about this?  Actually, I can kind of guess what they might say.  I hope Gloria Steinem doesn't read my blog.  Back in college in 1990 I never would have guessed that I would end up being such a disappointment to feminists everywhere.  But, alas....

Final topic for now.  Mantra:  You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?

That man can spend some money.  Unemployed?  No matter.  The old lady works.  (LOL.  Did I just refer to myself as the old lady?  I just sunk even lower on the disappointment-to-feminists everywhere scale.)

Anyhow, it's not Scott's fault he is unemployed.  He is a hard worker and good at what he does. The construction industry just sucks right now.  His industry is feast or famine, that's for sure.  When he works, he rolls in the money.  Which is great.  But, when he is working, could we possibly try to save a little more for a rainy day?  Apparently not.  Mr. Big Spender has to have the best of everything.  Case in point.  A tool box.

Scott decided to get a new tool box.  You are probably thinking something metal or plastic with a handle on top that you carry around, right?   Noooooo.  Not for my husband.  This is the toolbox he got.

A massive, Craftsman stainless steel toolbox.  Do you know how much that thing cost??  I don't remember the exact amount.  I just remember it was A LOT.  Why can't we have just a regular tool box like everyone else?  Why do we have to have every power tool known to humankind (I may have just gotten a couple points back with the feminists for using "humankind" instead of "mankind") and why do all those tools have to be expensive brands, like DeWalt?  Hell, even the clock and the radio in the garage are DeWalt.

Need a table saw?

Got it.

Circular saw?

Got it.

Power washer?

Got it.

Air compressor?

Got it.

Pneumatic nail gun?

Got it.

The list goes on and on.  This is what our garage at home looks like.  It doesn't even show all the stuff lined up along the left side wall. Mower, blower, spreader, wheel barrow.  OH, and beer in that fridge. 

 

Scott posed for the picture wearing a Volvo hard hat that has the safety goggles actually attached to it. We got to giggling so hard about it that he decided to wear it in the picture.  Here is a close up.  This picture makes me laugh.  Scott is so silly sometimes.  That facial expression.  Just silly.

See?  See how I do?  I start out all worked up about messy bathrooms and end up giggling about his silliness.  That's the reason for my mantra.  No matter how much crazy hillbilly sh*t he does, you know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?  I can hardly wait until he gets to Madison full time and permanently.  If we're lucky, that will be within 2 weeks.

Scott, I love you baby boy.