PJ Harvey Turns 4 years old

My PJ Harvey turned four today. He's getting so big! So I decided to reminisce a little. Below is a little storyline of PJ Harvey's life so far. Enjoy!

PJ Harvey was adopted at 3 months old. He was a smiley little guy and looked so small in the front seat.

 

I remember him being so clumsy that first day. He even fell in a mud puddle, which sadly enough I did not get a picture of.:(

He grew fast, which of course you don't notice until four years have flown by. He grew into a charming little pup.

 

He learned how to claim certain areas as his own - no matter how much room he might take up...

...or who he might kick you out of the front seat (which he still stubbornly refused to give up)...

Between the second and third year, his boyish charm slowly changed to more of a roguishly handsome charm. He now gives a very serious look, which you will probably see from this point on in the timeline.

 One of our first Christmas cards he decided to show off for the camera as he howled while the picture was being taken.

He thinks he is a stud.

 Speaking of stud, over time he found himself to be quite the sportsdog. His first catches were ground squirrels at Duncan Park.

From then on he was addicted...making sure to check for ground squirrels every chance he got.

Silly dog. He loves the snow so much. I wish I could share a picture of him holding his tennis ball (which was covered in snow, making it look like a snowball in his mouth). That picture was too small to share, though. However, here are a couple of other ones.:)

He enjoys laying by the fire, so I chose that as another spot for a Christmas card photo...

As many know, PJ Harvey has never been too good at meeting new people. He is a little protective or what others might call "vicious". Whatever...I don't know how you can call this precious guy vicious.

Matty!

Anyway, PJ Harvey met someone he has grown to like. Meaning someone he doesn't plan to viciously attack anytime soon...

PJ has found that laying on Matty was very comfortable...

 

...and he puts up with him, even when he makes him put on silly hats and clothes.

 

Poor PJ...

I'm glad that I've had my PJ Harvey over the past four years. He brings so many smiles to my face.

 

Him trying to fit into the front seat NOW makes me laugh. It's crazy how big he's grown...

 

Happy Birthday to my PJ Harvey! 4 human years and 28 doggy years...and still SO handsome.

Picture taken: March 9, 2012

Columbian

Haze rises from the auburn colored liquid,
filled with the smell of warmth
and vanilla. White whip
coats, giving the impression
that it is a knoll of snow.
The contents fill a ceramic
perimeter with the designs
of bagels and french cafes.
My mouth slowly takes in the sweetness
and I am rejuvenated.

Please stay a little longer...

Dear Winter 2011-2012,

Not that you really came in the first place, but I'd rather you not leave. At all.
Your 60-degree days and your sunny skies have worn out their welcome. Days like those now disgust me.
PJ Harvey doesn't seem to care either way...

...He can stick his head in the ground whether it's snow or just a pile of leaves.


Oh, and your tease of snow comes in the form of a hail storm?

SERIOUSLY?!?!?!?!

So, if you possibly could...please just stay a little longer.
However, on the off chance that you decide to leave, could you please come back next year stronger than ever? ☺ That would REALLY make everyone here extremely happy. Yes, that last sentence was dripping with sarcasm. But I will be extremely happy and really, I am the one that matters.

With a pleasant smile,
Your snow-loving fan

Reason #1,354,968 that I hate summer...

**This blog was actually written on my iPhone at 1:15 this a.m. when I got home from work and couldn't stop itching.**

You see, I had a photo shoot Sunday afternoon, taking pictures of an old friend's son, Aydan. A destination I had for the photo shoot was Mandi's (the friend) dad's field.

Well, to explain one thing here, I'm a fall/winter kind of girl, so my mind doesn't automatically go to the fact that if I go out into this field, then I would get little tiny seed ticks all over me. This logic completely escaped from my thought process.

Sure enough though...I get home that night and I am covered in them. So I tell Matty (who was with me at the shoot) to check himself. After he did so, he reassured me (rubbing it in) that he did not have one tick on him. That's right, not one.

SO, in conclusion, the itch began big time last night and I feel like I have the chicken pox all over again, making bug bites my Reason #1354,968 for hating summer.

The real sad part is that this itch better cease pronto or they're going to have to duck tape oven mitts on my hands.

Procrastination

What brings this to mind is that I have been called a procrastinator twice today...thus far. I have put off two different tasks because I have gotten distracted by other things or my mind wanders off.

Anyhoots (Haha...Amy...)

Some may see it as one of my worst flaws, but I see it as one of my better traits. I tend to do better at things after I put them off for awhile. Take for instance my Current Political Events final exam in my senior year of college. I did it all the night before and got a 98 percent on it...not to brag. It's true though, I tend to be more motivated and my mind works better while under pressure. If I would have started on that exam (16 pages of a take home essay test with no less than 6 sources - at least 2 from internet, 2 from a book of some kind and 2 from any other) the week before the due date in which it was assigned, then I probably would have gotten a C on it. I would have over thought everything and by the end it would have just been a jumbled mess from all the changes I'd have made.
I did almost give my mom a heart attack that night though when she found out it was due the next day...

Which goes to show just how crazy-different people are.
For instance - I am going to use this time to tell each and every one of you that procrastination is good and sadly enough a dieing art-form. The act of procrastination, mixed with a wonderful cup of coffee (or whatever is to your liking...tea, MD, etc...) is really the best high anyone could have.
However, I believe every teacher out there would disagree - well, most. The main reason I did not become a teacher - this love of mine would have slowly been stripped away from me.

Journalism on the other hand is the perfect answer to procrastination. You can ask most writers in my newsroom - deadlines and down to the wire stories are what motivates writers. Take for instance me. I have been putting off writing this blog post because I'm a procrastinator. I procrastinate. IT'S WHAT I DO!

Being the underdog at every card game

Card games were pretty much what our time "up on the hill" (Meme and Poppy Rumker's) was centered around. It has taken me years to finally admit, but my cousin Beth is the master when it comes to cards. We still have our bantering back and forth sessions about who will win the next match, but about 98 percent of the time the win is hers.

Here are a few things to give you insight into why she is seen as the master of cards in the Rumker family:

1. After a while, Meme refused to play against Beth...especially after she realized her "hex" on her opponent wasn't working.
2. Meme made many rules to make it easier on us kids, but the best and most memorable was when Louie and Jon Paul cried because Beth would go out before everyone at the table was able to play during Phase 10. From then on, Meme said that no one was allowed to go out until everyone got at least one turn on each round. Oh, and she also didn't believe in skips.:)
3. Beth knew how to gloat without actually having to gloat. She would win a hand and have a smirk on her face while gathering her cards...not one word came from her mouth unless you said something first (which was almost every time) and even then it was a calmly stated, sarcastic remark in which you had no words in reply.

Now, even though Beth was seen as the best, there was always something so great about being the underdog.

When the underdog won a hand, that person was given the free reign to gloat as loud and as long as they wanted. There was no "Now be nice." or "Sssshhhh...not so loud." OH NO. So, this makes losing a little easier to take.

Plus, it was like getting a trophy when you won and got to place your star on Meme's calendar. Memories...

Gift ideas for my cousin on MY half birthday

My favorite cousin Beth (B.Rum) has a birthday coming up. Coincidentally, her birthday is my half birthday. This has always been a running joke between the two of us as to who is more important. For instance, on her birthday a few years ago, I was in Kansas City visiting the Rumker family. Since she was unable to show her wonderful face in KC that weekend, my aunts and uncles decided to call HER cell phone and sing happy HALF birthday to me.:)

On August 17 I believe my half birthday should overshadow her actual birthday, while on February 17, she believes her half birthday should overshadow my actual birthday.

Anyways, recently Beth asked me what I would be getting her for her birthday...well, I decided that her present should be unique, pretty and something that could be mailed easily to her since she has decided to live in the dreadful state of Oklahoma.

So I have decided on the perfect gift. I will take a picture.........of myself (unique). I will run it through Photoshop so that it has a (pretty) border on it. Then I will place it in a text message, make her as the recipient and push send (saving on a few stamps to mail her something). I have covered all my bases...I do believe my job here is done!

I love you B.Rum and there is no possible way I would tell you what I am getting you for your birthday - I guess you'll just have to be surprised.:)