DAMN-uary

Welcome back to the ongoing saga, boys and girls.

This has definitely been a slooooow month, and I, for one, am sincerely grateful.  After the Holiday blitzkrieg, we really needed some down time around here.  The month of January seems to have a lot in common with September, in that they both are devoted to returning to the usual school/work grind after taking considerable time off to lounge around the house, gaining weight.  Yours Truly has stayed on top of running on the treadmill since October, but even that didn't stop me from putting on a few pounds (thanks to all the Holiday parties, filled with delicious and unhealthy food and booze.)  We're not big on resolutions in this family, but getting back into healthy eating habits was paramount this month.

There were some other notable events that happened this month.  A euchre tournament at the Collier's, a couple Girl Scout outings, and, of course, my ascension to the highest rank of Masonry:  Master Mason.  I achieved this rank in a very short amount of time, as I studied religiously for this final degree, and now that I'm officially a highest-ranking member in the Freemasons, I can go on to explore some of the appending bodies of Masonry (York Rite, Scottish Rite, Shriners, etc.)  I'll keep you posted with those developments as they transpire.

Oh yeah, and we got another dog.  He's a pain in the ass, so he fits right in.

In closing, here's some pictures of the four-and-a-half months that was January.

Enjoy.

So here's a picture of my lodge (the top floor, the left half of the building), around one hundred and fifty years ago (it turns 150 in April, technically.)

Shortly after the Holidays settled down, Kris bought some white paint to redo Abby's bedroom.  No longer into Star Wars (sad as that is), she'd been wanting a beach-themed bedroom, and the formerly dark grey walls weren't really giving off that vibe.  Kris was able to really lighten up the room with a couple coats of primer and a couple additional coats of paint.  I didn't help out with this in any way, shape or form.

While Kris was painting her room, Abby got to hang out with some friends at the Roll Arena.

 

Decor getting thrown up on the walls (okay, I did that part.)

A beach-themed picture display above her dresser, lights courtesy of Dad and Cindy.

A far cry from the greys and purples of her pre-renovated room. . .

Both girls have been really into sewing lately, thanks to my mom, who showed them how to do it one day over at her house.  She gave them needles and various threads, along with random fabrics so they can practice and make God knows what.

 

The Larsons' kid, Sophie, hanging out one day for some more f***ing sewing. . .

I came home from work one day to find these signs plastered all over the door to our basement.  I blame the spelling on their Farwellian mother's genes.

Running around the neighborhood one afternoon, following a nasty ice storm that coated everything in dangerous ice (to the point where we had the kids put on helmets if they were running around the sidewalks.)

One of the gifts Abby got from my mom for Christmas this year was a gift certificate to Build-a-Bear (where kids can custom-build their own stuffed animal from scratch.)  Unfortunately, the closest location was down in Grand Rapids, in some mall in Grandville.  So one Saturday we drove down in the morning to get Abby her Goddamned stuffie. . .

Taking an elevator down to the first floor (this mall was slightly more fancy that the Midland Mall.)

Let the up-selling begin. . .

After picking out her animal's 'skin' (for lack of better term), it was time to get the animal filled with stuffing.  Abby went with a rainbow-colored cat.

 

This whole process is so frickin' bizarre. . .

Hooking the cat up to the fluff tube.

No idea what's happening here.

Abby places a red heart into the corpse, thereby giving it life.

(This isn't a real bath.)

Once they sell you a $25 stuffed animal - with options to pick a scent for $5, a heart for $5, an audio recording for $10, etc. etc. - you then get to pick out an outfit.  Rest assured, each article of clothing costs about $5 apiece, so one drops $50 on one f***ing stuffed animal real quick.

Holding up her new, over-priced stuffed cat and a certificate of adoption.

After our nightmare at Build-a-Bear, we swung over to BP's house to hang out with the DeBoer fam for a few hours.  BP recently got into vinyl, and he just completed his setup.  Not bad for a novice.

Awaiting my Master Mason degree at Lodge.

After my initiation ceremony, Erik and I met up with a bunch of other dads over at the Boulevard Lounge for some celebratory beers.

To mark the occasion, I had this custom-made .925 Sterling Silver Masonic ring made on Etsy.

This symbolizes Memento Mori (one of our principles in Masonry.)  Worth the price, for sure.

Finally got around to replacing the cabinet hardware in the kitchen.  Happy Wife, Happy Life.

My lodge donated a bunch of hats and mittens to Chestnut Hill this month, one of our charities that we run every year.

The girls set this up in the living room one evening.  God knows why.

Aldi recently started selling boxed wine.  I'm a happy camper.

Alayna is 11 going on 16 these days.

The girls have been playing a lot of chess lately.  I'm 100% cool with this.

I didn't know such a thing existed, but I definitely want one now. . .

One of the rare days this month that actually felt like winter.  It's been eerily warm, and without much snow at all, for most of the month.

Watson shows Samson the ropes.

Samson is obsessed with Abby. . .

Setting up teams for the Colliers' ridiculously-intricate Euchre Tournament.  There was a $10 buy-in for all players, and instead of full-on games, 24 players were scrambled up at random and would play through two deals per player before ending each round in the tournament.  However many points you and your random partner received would then be entered into a spreadsheet (which was displayed via a monitor that Ryan put atop his TV, shown here.)  At the end of nine rounds, whomever won the 1st, 2nd and 3rd places (based on total accumulated points), won $100, $80, and $60, respectively.  The last two point values would have to perform karaoke for everyone else.

For most of the evening, Kris was in the bottom two, and she was mortified at the prospect of singing in front of other people.  This doesn't bother me in the slightest, so - being the chivalrous husband that I am - I told her that if she finished in the bottom two places I'd step in and take her place.  Alas, she finished third-from-last, as Ryan - the host himself - finished second-to-last, and assumed her karaoke spot.  Stephanie ended up finishing dead last, and when she heard of my husbandly gesture, she made her husband, Lonnie, fill in for her.

 

I forget what highly-homosexual duet these two did, but it was damn funny.

- Brian

Samson

What's up, gang.

Avoid these motherf***ers at all cost.

Remember a couple years ago when we owned a pair of Guinea Pigs?  Remember that?  How we bought them under the pretext that the girls would hopefully learn some responsibility by taking care of them, cleaning their cage on a regular basis, feeding them, etc.?  How after a couple months Kris and I found ourselves cleaning the cage three times a week, and our kids didn't lift a finger in the caring of said rodents, and how we ended up dropping them off at a local pet store in defeat?

The artist formerly known as 'Ricky.'

One of the dumbest things I ever told my kids was that if they would go along with this surrendering of their pets, then we would get a second dog.  I have no idea what motivated me to say something like this, and Kris could've murdered me.  Rest assured, for the next two years the girls regularly asked when we were getting a second dog, and once and awhile Kris and I would go on apps like PetFinder and snoop around.  We never found much, though.

Fast forward to the present.  Kris was browsing a rescue shelter called K9 Stray, down in Oxford, and came across a dachshund mix named Ricky.  This poor son of a bitch had been living on the streets and was picked up by Animal Control somewhere in Ohio (the Butthole of the Country.)  The rescue shelter had received Ricky and had been nursing him back to health, as he was starved and malnourished when they received him:

Ricky, when the shelter first received him from Animal Control.

Since he was a stray, they obviously didn't know his exact age, but they estimated it to be between 1 - 2 years, as he didn't have any of his puppy teeth anymore, but was still very juvenile in his behavior.  Due to his malnourishment over the years, his bones were very weak, and his front legs were underdeveloped, something that the shelter said would improve with a better diet and exercise.  Regardless, he'd would suffer from arthritis for the rest of his life.

How he looked the morning Kris drove down and checked him out.

Kris was very interested in Ricky, as he was described as a submissive and affectionate dog that was good around other dogs and kids, so she had me fill out an adoption application while I was at work and send it in to the shelter.  The very next day, while I was at work, I received a call from the shelter saying that they were interested in us meeting the dog.  Kris fortunately had the day off, so she drove downstate to check him out, with Watson in tow (the shelter requested we bring him as well, just to make sure the dogs got along with one another.)

Watson had to wait in the car while Kris went in first to fill out paperwork and check out the dog.  After awhile, she and a staff member had to bring Ricky outside into 'neutral' territory for the two dogs to meet.  Watson obviously dominated the younger, smaller dog - no surprises there - but they got along great, the shelter was convinced of the fit, and we got the green light.

After filling out a bunch of paperwork, we got ourselves a new dog.  The shelter was really accomodating:  when they found out we didn't have a second dog seat in Kris' van, they sold Kris a really nice dog crate (with bedding) for $7 (they only took cash and that's all Kris had on her at the time.)  They also gave us a collar, a high-end harness, and a leash, free of charge.  Had we bought all this separately on Amazon, we would've dropped at least $100, so the fact we walked out with so much was definitely appreciated.

On her drive back home, Kris and I went back and forth with names for this guy, as neither of us were fans of 'Ricky.'  My top names - Brutus, Sancho, Hugo, Porthos - were all shot down by Kris for being too 'weird.'  Her names - Leo, Frank, Walter, etc. - were just, well, terrible.  Eventually, in the end, I came up with 'Samson,' and that one stuck.

So, anyway, here you go, America - yet another f***ing mouth to feed in the Hough House.

Behold. . .

Samson, set up in the back of Kris' van, getting ready to ride back up to Midland.

Watson isn't so sure about this. . .

By the time Kris got back, I was home from work (some of us work on Fridays.)  She left to go pick up Abby from my mom's house (Alayna was away for the evening at a friend's house), so I was tasked with supervising Watson and Samson as the former showed the latter around the house.  There was a shit-load of barking.

A temporary setup for the time being.

Abby meets Samson. . .

This dude doesn't sit still for shit.

 

There was a lot of this.

Finally calm.

 

Towards the end of the night.  Both of these idiots were worn out.

When it was time to put Samson to sleep (he's gonna be in his crate for quite awhile, I think), Abby deemed it necessary to read him a bedtime story to help him go to sleep.

The next morning, Watson showed the new guy the ropes as to how mornings go around these parts.

Watson definitely gets jealous whenever Samson comes up to me.  I can't so much as pet the new dog without him getting in my face.

Samson has taken a shine to Abby, which is nice because Watson avoids her like the plague.

Snuggle buddies

Alayna finally returns from her sleepover and meets the new dog.  If you think her reaction is lackluster, it's because she had caught wind up of all of this Thursday evening, when she overheard Kris and I talking about dog beds for Samson.  She's a terrible actress.

I went to Home Depot and bought a dog run for the backyard, seeing how are yard isn't completely fenced in.  Not that we need it right now - the dog hates going in the snow.

Welcome to the shitshow, Samson. . .

- Brian