Cause there's no place like home for the holidays

HAPPY HOLIDAYS from Sam and Esme!

For those of you who don't know the story, Esme was a rescue cat from the Saint John Animal Rescue League. I got her a few years ago and she was a mess - terrified of everything, matted fur, and claws that were stuck in the pads of her feet. Now, she's a Fleet family favorite. She's an inbred Persian who found her family!

This has become somewhat of a tradition between

Esme and I. She gets her photo taken in some awful

getup...and I laugh at her.

Photos from home

The first photo is of Duke, Bryen and Claude's dog (Sister and Sister's significant other) as he is going after the evil and vicious vacuum.

The other photos were taken by my mother as gram attempted to brush the dog hair off me after I gave both Moe and KC a good brushing. Both dogs look much less scruffy today!

Also, it was about -5 or -7 degrees Celcius that day! BURR!!!

Hey you...you're fat!

I just read an article from BBC that suggests family and friends should mention to their loved ones that they are gaining weight or overweight. They were being serious.

I'm not sure about the author's family, but in my house, you'd be slapped upside the head with a wooden spoon if you called someone fat.

The author may want to take note that MOST people probably already know they're not a size 2...especially when they get stuck in the dressing room at the mall with a size two shirt stuck around their double chin.

Look, I'm all for suggesting someone go for a walk, gym dates or offering gift cards to the gym for Christmas if they suggested they would be interested. I'm not okay going up to 85-year old Granny saying: "Maybe you shouldn't take a second helping of pie. You're getting a little chunky!" (For the record, my mam is a very petite lady).

Where is the common sense here? If you want to be invited to Christmas dinner, don't be known as the Fat Police. Take time to talk to people and if they mention it, pass along your advice if they're receptive to it. Don't just start handing out "Fat Fines" this season.

Grades

I see the Facebook posts saying grades are starting to be posted so I slowly type in the letters. UNB.ca. My heart starts to race, my fingers start to shake...then the inevitable stomach churning started.

I usually have a pretty good guess what my grades are going to be but it terrifies me to assume I'm going to get a good grade and then, because I bombed an exam, just fail. I know the stats are with me saying I probably won't fail if I study and have done well during the course but its' a fear.

So I open up my browser and there they are...1/2 my grades are posted. A B+ in War and Genocide and an A in Sociology. I was hoping to ace that W&G exam and haul up my mark but it didn't work.

So now I'm just waiting for the other 2 courses to come in (hopefully before Christmas). For the record, this is a form of torture albeit it, a nicer form than the typical types.

The afternoon of doggy delights

Anyone who knows me is aware that Melmo (Moe) and KC own my heart like their chew toys. These two dogs are the best dogs ever. While I defend your right to say you disagree, you're still wrong.

This afternoon, with my grandparents and mother present, I noticed my two boys were looking a tad bit scruffy so I hauled out the furminator (The most amazing pet brush ever). Moe laid down, groaned, flipped over, enjoyed having his belly rubbed and was excellent for about half an hour of brushing...KC was a different story.

He kept hitting me with his paw, refused to lay down, decided laying down was his best option, had to go get some water, came back, put his tail in my face and wagged, turned around, sat down again...and repeated. Then he decided he was sorry, and licked the entire side of my face. I was covered from head to toe in dog hair and slime.

Moe got jealous that KC was being brushed and decided he needed more work. Try pushing a 100 pound dog off your lap (Moe) when he doesn't feel like moving. Hint: It doesn't work. KC got upset that Moe took his spot and started trying to chew on Moe's face. I yell at KC, mom yells at me for yelling at him, Bamp is giggling in the corner watching the entire comedic event and I'm gasping for air and spitting out dog fur.

Finally, both dogs look lovely, sleek and polished and I get kicked outside to be wacked around by my grandmother who attempted to brush the hair off me in a broom. For the record, it was about -5C and I was in a tanktop/capris.

The afternoon of doggy delights...photos to come shortly