Red Hats, Kids, and a Criminal Canine

Hey Y'all,

Husband and I are sitting in our big chair watching TV. What a week it has been. May I just stop here and be completely honest? Keeping all the balls of ATS in the air is hard, very hard. And yet, just this week I told the Father that I knew beyond any doubt that the difficulty of it is always causing me to be more desperate for Him and more dependant on His grace. To use a word from the Good Book, therefore, "I am willing to continue to do difficult if difficult leads me ever closer to Him." If you don't get my rambling, it's okay. I'm tired and maybe incoherent. I'm just glad He gets me. And now, random stuff...

I am going to get to Miss Dixie's crimes, and I see from the next to the last post that she has been adding to them, but I'm saving that for the end of this post.

I don't even know what to say about the Mad Hatters Convention I spoke at today other than that I LOVED THEM! Those Mad Hatters Rock. Absolutely. Rock. As I digest the day, I may have more to say. For instance, I may tell you about the seventy-seven year old who goes by the name of Foxy Mama. I want to be as much fun as Foxy Mama when I grow up.

And now some pics...First up are some pics of my mother with her great grandkids. The blond is Emmie and the young prince is Jackson. Those sweeties belong to my neice, Hillary Joyce, who was here visiting from Arkansas. (Love that girl.) That beautiful little one on the blanket is, of course, MY grandchild, Emerson Ann. (Yes, Cyndie, my crow is blacker. *grin) Please note that these are my mama's great grands, she who taught me the "Suck Your Stomach In and Put On Some Color" rules. Perhaps you can see why my sisters and I call her Jackie O.





And now-- Dixie. Where to begin? I see she has beaten me to the punch and tried to stir up some compassion amongst my dear porchers by sneaking onto the blog. The girl has more nerve than Dick Tracey. (See post: Two Sides to Shellie's Stories)

I'll begin with a picture. Yesterday I was in the kitchen when I heard something, (or someone) on the back porch. Imagine my surprise to find Dixie looking at me with a "Don't mind me" expression. I say I was surprised because a) Dixie isn't allowed on the porch and b) it does have screen doors on two sides that stay latched. I took a photo for y'all through the sliding glass doors of the breakfast area. If you will look past the guilty one you will see the brand new doggie door. Dixie installed that, thank you very much.

In the interest of full disclosure, Dixie wants y'all to know that there was a little boy at the house not too long ago who actually broke the door. This is partially true. However, he broke a slat, one slat. The new doggie door is ALL Dixie.

Do you bleeding hearts still think she deserves a beggin' strip? Yeah...that's what I thought. That dog leads a charmed life.

Hugs,
Shellie