cheers to the freakin weekend

Cheers to the freakin’ weekend

crisp with a heart

(The highlight of the weekend: a crisp (potato chip, Americans) with a heart. The only thing better would’ve been a crisp with a shoe. Or if I’d backed the hell away from it a bit, so this photo wasn’t such an extreme close-up. We live and we never really learn.)

I’ve noticed that a lot of other bloggers do weekend recaps, which are always full of charming photos of them being super-cute in lovely, interesting places. My weekends aren’t normally like that. Here’s what this weekend looked has looked like so far:

Friday night:

Rubin ate chocolate.

I know you’re all about to tell me that OMG, dogs should NEVER eat chocolate, because it can be TOXIC to them and they can DIE and we are BAD owners, but trust me, I know. Ever since we got Rubin, I’ve exercised extreme paranoia about chocolate, and all the other things dogs aren’t supposed to eat – we’re always careful not to let him near it, and if anyone’s going to be looking after him, I back out of their house shouting, “Remember not to let him eat chocolate! Or grapes! Or small bones! Or chocolate!”  But I’m clumsy. You all know this. And because I also know this, I have always been aware that the day would surely come when I would drop chocolate on the floor, and before I could react, Rubin would pounce and swallow it whole.

What I didn’t really expect was that Terry would be the one who would end up doing this. But he did, and, of course, Rubin reacted with his usual lightning speed, and almost before the chocolate hit the ground, it was gone, and he was looking at us all, “YEAH, SO?”

Much Googling ensued. Also much panicking, and shouting of the phrase “OMG, he’s going to die! He’s going to die!” (from me, naturally) while Rubin just sat there looking like chocolate wouldn’t melt in his mouth.


(He also tried to eat pizza.)

After a bit of frenzied research, we managed to establish that what he’d eaten probably wasn’t enough to cause him any harm. Nevertheless, our “relaxing” Friday night, which we’d planned to spend watching a movie, was instead spent with Terry watching a movie, while I watched Rubin, providing a helpful running commentary on his actions (“He’s standing up, he must be ill! Oh! He’s sitting down again! Why do you think he’s sitting down? Should we call the vet?”) and played a fun little game I call “Sleeping…or Dead?” And by “fun”, I mean “not even remotely fun, seriously.”

After a few hours of this, and absolutely no sign of any ill-effects on Rubin, I took the panic down a notch and allowed myself to cautiously acknowledge the possibility that he might live.

Then I went to the kitchen to get a handful of chocolate-covered cereal and, yeah, I dropped one on the floor. And yeah, Rubin ate it. He got to sleep in our bed that night.

And, naturally, he was absolutely fine.

(Terry took this photo the next morning, while I was still asleep. When he woke me up to let me know he was heading out to see his friends, I tried to say something like “See you later – take care/have fun!” but what came out was, “You! Take fun!” COFFEE.)


You know that thing I do? With the dyeing my hair bright orange? And  then with the doing it again? Yeah, that. Only this time , rather than the wash-in, wash-out colours I usually use to turn my hair orange, this one was a semi-permanent, so hello, orange hair! (Yes, I did a strand test first, No, it didn’t look quite so bright.) I’m strangely calm about it. And yes, I know I could get the salon to strip it out, or buy something to do it myself, but actually, I think I’m just going to leave it, and let that be a lesson to me. Thankfully, the REALLY bright orange is concentrated on the (formerly) strawberry blonde bits around my temples, so as long as I comb my fringe in a certain way, it’s not THAT obvious. Like, my hair just looks slightly unnatural, as opposed to glow-in-the-dark unnatural. Meh, fluorescent is, like, SO HOT right now, anyway. And I KNEW that fringe would come in handy one day!

(I’ve heard that Head & Shoulders or clarifying shampoos can make colour fade faster, yes? And… there’s always hats?)

(I did try to take a photo of it, by the way, but it didn’t really reveal the full extent of the orange, which gives me further hope that it’s Just Not That Bad.)

Also on Saturday, Rubin was apprehended in my parents’ garden in the act of eating God Knows What, But He Seemed to Find it Tasty. Another vigil ensued. He is still alive.


Sunday was a gorgeous Spring day, so naturally we chose to spend it engaged in various mundane household chores. Don’t you just HATE it when you wait all year for Spring, and then when it finally shows up, you have to spend it digging in the garden and scrubbing down your house? Luckily for me, Terry was up super-early to watch Formula One (like, 5am early. I didn’t even know there WAS a 5 o’clock in the a.m.) and afterwards he got through the various tedious gardening chores I had outlined the night before during one of my awful, “OMG, we will have to start doing battle with the garden again, why won’t that thing just DIE already?” rants.

Then we painted the porch. You’re starting to understand why I don’t do weekend roundups now, aren’t you? We’re on a bit of a mission at the moment – or, at least, I am  – to make the house a bit less gloomy and awful, and we decided to start small. Literally, I mean: the porch is so small we can’t both stand in it at the same time, and because I can’t really be trusted with a paintbrush (Look, would YOU trust a woman who’s dyed her hair orange three times now? Didn’t think so.), Terry did that too, while I gave the house a bit of a Spring-clean. He earned MAJOR Brownie points this weekend, seriously.

(We painted it mint green. Because of course we did. It will match all of my clothes! And if crazed killers are ever chasing me through the house, why, I will just stand next to that wall in my mint-coloured clothes and be instantly camouflaged. Oh no, wait: I keep forgetting I have fluorescent orange hair now. That’ll blow my cover. OK, well, I’ll stand next to the wall, and they will see me, but I will look like a freaky, disembodied head, and they will be scared and run away, crying like girls. I’m glad I have a plan for that particular scenario now: that’s been bothering me for years.)

(God, I wish I hadn’t introduced the idea of disembodied heads. Because now I’m thinking about being beheaded, and you all know how I feel about THAT.)

(At the moment, the mint green paint is ALSO a lot brighter than we’d anticipated. WHY DOES NOTHING LOOK THE WAY IT DOES ON THE BOX?)

This Sunday was also Mother’s Day in the UK. We visited my mum on Saturday instead, and although it was HER special day, I was the one who got the gift, in the shape of this little polka dot dress she has made for me. From scratch, people. With her own hands. Isn’t she clever? Do you think I might be adopted?

Oh, and I also changed my banner. Never let it be said that I don’t know how to have a good time. Even although that’s totally true.

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  • Panthera


    😀 your posts always put a smile on my face. Also, that pic of Rubin is So. Cute!
    I’ve had my hair dresser dye my hair bright red when I wanted brown with reddish tones. That was a pair of interesting first weeks until it faded/washed out. My bf has a thing for redheads though, so he loved it… -.-

    March 18, 2012
  • Chloe


    My dog has staples in her leg and a cone on her head but because of long body she can still lick her wound so I’ve not slept much the past few nights. Having a poorly pup is awful.

    Head & Shoulders does strip colour.

    Love the dress!

    March 18, 2012
  • Your mum is SO clever, that dress is beautiful!

    March 18, 2012
  • Sandy


    My mum keeps feeding her dog choc as a treat and I keep telling her that it’s toxic for dogs but she reckons the vet says it’s ok in small quantities, so who knows? I have cats that hoover any fallen food, one of them sometimes even trys to whip it off your plate which can be a bit disconcerting really.

    Loving the sleeping Rubin pic.

    March 18, 2012
  • First, I LOVE the new banner. Second, my Scooby eats small amounts of chocolate every now and then, and he’s alive and 10 years already (and SO cute!!), so try not to worry too much. =P I know everybody say chocolate is bad for dogs but he likes it almost as much as me!! and it is soooo hard to say no to him! (Shame on me!)

    March 18, 2012
  • 1. My life is not even as exciting as yours.
    2. My dog Max ate two whole chocolate easter rabbits one year, and nothing happened. Except my sister told me off for letting Max eat her chocolate rabbits.

    March 18, 2012
  • From now on whenever any of your fans (or Amber-ites as I like to call us) meet in person we will greet each other by shouting “You! Take fun!”. Every secret society needs a cryptic greeting!

    March 19, 2012
  • Surely there is no problem hats cannot solve, except possibly the issue of where to store all of one’s shoes.

    March 19, 2012
  • A few years ago, I woke up early one morning to hear a munching sound near our bed. Turns out that our then 12 year old labrador stole my box of chocolate-covered tea biscuits and devoured it whole. I spent the next half an hour somewhere around rude a.m. googling to find out just how much chocolate a dog can eat, what the amount of chocolate in them really was and if anything will happen to him.
    Last year our then 6 month old basset puppy decided she.must.have half a big chocolate while we were away. I didn’t even bother calling the vet. She was, naturally fine. Just like she was fine after eating an entire glass thermometer, quicksilver and all.

    I do so envy you for having such a talented mother, I wish mine did things like that too 🙂

    And as a last note- nothing wrong with having orange hair. I’m slowly working towards it again from my brief excursion into green, indigo and fuchsia. So there.

    March 19, 2012
      • It was there, it was moving, and it was interesting. And dogs find everything interesting. I mean that old saying- curiosity killed the cat? I don’t really think it stands, I own a cat and the dog, and I’ve seen the dog do much weirder stuff than the cat and try to eat more inedible things.

        March 20, 2012
  • Emma


    Your posts are indeed awesome, and what I aspire to in my own journal before I inevitably ramble off on some details no one cares about 🙂 Maybe I should write some actually public entries rather than having them all locked down to friends only, where I can convince myself it’s just FINE if I ramble on and no one reads it anyway, because I’m writing it for the sake of writing for me etc. I’ve never done a proper blog, just LiveJournal, and it’s ruined me 🙂

    I did a similar thing with the orange hair last week. I’ve naturally got dark blonde hair, but I’ve been dying it red for 10 years (so, you’d think I would have got the hang of it by now, right?). I recently bought a box of what I thought was the right colour, but they’d changed the packaging and I actually managed to buy my old normal colour. No big deal, I thought, I used to use that one, it’ll be fine!

    Turns out, Feria not only changed the boxes, they changed the product as well. No more liquid developer stuff you pour into the creme bit, just another tube of creme stuff! I checked THREE TIMES to make sure I wasn’t mixing the conditoner in… only to discover that now my hair is supposed to be dry before you apply it, and I’d wetted it as per the old instructions. And no more colour booster tiny squeezy thing, just a weird little sachet of oil you throw in.

    After all that, the mixed stuff in the bottle was a very pale peach at best, rather than the “pure ruby power” instantly red colour I was used to! After leaving it for half an hour while I did a strand test and hurriedly dried my hair again, the stuff in the bottle slowly progressed to what I can only say was orange. Perhaps Heinz tomato soup orangey red if I was feeling generous.

    Oh, and I was going to a wedding the next day. I wanted to avoid either horrible rooty regrowth or bright orange luminous hair, but one or the other seemed inevitable!

    Dun dun duhhh!

    (The end of this story is pretty much an anticlimax because despite the dye being ORANGE even on my head when I came to wash it off, somehow my hair ended up being a lovely shade of bright, dark, red, and I possibly even like it better than my normal colour. But it almost made for a dramatic retelling).

    March 19, 2012
      • Emma


        Mine had all the panic but in the end was fiiiine… next time I at least know what to expect and I’ll be much calmer knowing it’ll all work out in the end!

        I don’t really know what made me jump to suddenly semi-perm red after years of natural colour, some of those wash in wash out ones in blondeish shades when I was in my teens, then some blonde highlights in my late teens. I think I just got too overwhelmed by the BLONDE after the second lot of highlights once the first grew out too much, but I’m not known for being particularly adventurous so it was quite out of character! I can’t imagine myself with my natural colour now and think the red looks better on me, and I feel I look more interesting with it and it suits me better… I’m not one of those people who bleaches and dyes a new crazy shade every week, as much as sometimes I wish I was!

        Your hair is a gorgeous colour so hopefully if the orange is too subtle to show up in photos that means it won’t be as obvious as you think 🙂

        March 19, 2012
  • I don’t think you’re adopted, but maybe I would be if I asked really nicely? 🙂 It is good to know that there are other bloggers out there with mundane weekends and in fact not everyone is gallivanting outside with their picnic blankets and straw baskets after going to brunch in that cute tiny cupcake bakery next to the farmer’s market. AND INSTAGRAM OF COURSE. ^^

    March 20, 2012
  • KON


    Love that post! Giggled like crazy about that “You! Take Fun!” and then I tried to translate it to my no-english-speaking bf. Failed horribly xD

    About dogs…mine suffers a severe genetic defect – he has no brains. Today he was drinking old muddy water with an oily surface, last time it were unspeakable leftovers of drunk people and of course he ate sausage casing and sweets and my bf’s lunch and chocolate and bread and his own fur…and so on. Still he is the happiest dog alive which obviously relates to the missing brain.

    March 21, 2012