pot of gold | Cowboys and Crossbones

The Nashville weekend shenanigans contained a little St. Patty’s Day pre-parting and I was thrilled to partake in the events.

Who’s with me?

My twins in Iowa were more than a tad excited not only for the upcoming hunt of leprechauns and gold but also to eat chicken for lunch (it’s the little things, isn’t it?) on Saturday.

These two are down for some shamrock celebrating.

My face at every meal.

Elation over poultry, a new playhouse and the making of their first ever mud pies kinda made me wish I was up in Iowa with my favorite twosome. But then they’d have wanted me to help with the pies of dirt and you know, my nails are “jewels, not tools,” so it’s better I viewed from afar.

Finger lickin’ fun.

Remember sweet Mighty Dog, who belongs to one of my fave couples? A few weeks ago she was recovering from cancer surgery and I asked you for good karma, hugs, purrs and prayers that she’d get back to her old self.

Recovering in comfort.

Guess what? It worked!

She’s back! She’s better than ever! She’s cancer free!

Ms. Mighty and her partner in crime, Buddy.

Feeling the need to celebrate everything under the sun (that finally came out in Nashville after a dreary winter – yeehaw!) Saturday evening activities commenced, starting with costuming my Glamingo (what grown ass woman doesn’t have a flamingo to dress up?).

Gussied up and ready to glam.

My ~~classy~~ party staples were chilled to perfection.

Jell-O shots locked and loaded for good luck.

And the most handsome Captain ever was at the ready to accompany me through the evening’s events.

Ingredients for a perfect date.

The topper of the night? A spectacular light show that enhanced every aspect of the party…and then some.

Ooooh…ahhh….with the ultimate party lights!

Sunday was spent in typical fashion – with New Cat frolicking to the couch, only to see he was again too late to partake in lap love as Ted pretends he’s made of stone and has been fast asleep for three centuries.

Ignoring at its finest.

Know what I can’t ignore?

Animated faces ready to party among leprechauns.

These two are down for some shamrock celebrating.

Here’s hoping you find a pot of gold tomorrow!

CBXB

My St. Patty’s Day weekend proved I’ve become a leprechaun in reverse with no overflowing gold in my pot.

No gold? No problem. Let’s party!

Ever have multiple seconds turn into minutes that roll into hours and then days that make you wanna pull your hair out strand by strand?

Friday morning started with this lovely event…

All aired out in less than two minutes flat.

A second punctured tire in the last three months requiring me to purchase yet another brand new fucking piece of rubber. Thank you streets of Nashville.

Luck of the Irish my ass.

While I was quite the damsel in distress (let’s remember my nails are “jewels not tools” so no I don’t know, nor care to know how to change a flat tire), I luckily work in a warehouse full of knights in shining armor.

My hero to the rescue!

Adding to my mounting car frustration was the fact that I just spent $1000 on brakes last weekend. So between dropping a cool thou enabling my car to halt and throwing another $250 into the wind for a new tire I thought about to pushing my car into oncoming traffic.

Then I remembered I’m not done paying for it.

And I need transportation to and from work in order to pay for my piece of shit vehicle.

Knowing I just drained my entire year’s worth of spending money in two weeks on a hunk of metal about sent me over the edge…all before noon on a Friday. But the fellas at the warehouse know how to take care of an edgy gal – with endless compliments (your day sucks but you look really nice!) and a cigarette (if I’m smoking, it’s bad as I smoke one cigarette every 1,789 days).

Thankful for nicotine, my resident tire expert and the coat he let me borrow.

In order to get my heart rate, blood pressure and sanity back in order, I drove across town to visit Ted, the little fur ball love of my life.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Why is my beloved on vacation from yours truly? Because New Cat, the stray we opened our home to in January is sick (and pretty pathetic looking in his cone).

Wallowing in the window pane.

Saturday fun was all about New Cat visiting the vet where we found out his eye is not only worse, he’s somehow developed an ear infection, which means another week away from my precious Ted and $100 less grocery money for moi. I feel like the appropriate name for New Cat is now Money Pit.