I feel like I’ve been living in an episode of Scooby Doo.
Recently I started using wool dryer balls instead of dryer sheets. I’ve been trying to reduce the chemicals in my house and after researching laundry products, dryer balls were mentioned several times as a good alternative. They are also supposed to conserve energy by absorbing some of the moisture and reducing drying time.
I like using my supply of different essential oils to scent the balls before I throw them in with the load. They add a light fragrance and I can change them up depending on my mood.
The annoying part is that they fly around the room when I am pulling items out of the dryer and I have to chase them down to gather them up.
I’m still not sure if I like using them better than dryer sheets, but I’m trying to give them a fair trial.
When my son came home for Christmas break, I mentioned to him that I had made the switch. I asked him to please watch out for them and put them back in the glass storage jar after he had folded the load of towels that had been freshly washed for his bathroom.
That’s the last time I used all six dryer balls.
The next time I went into the laundry room, there were only three dryer balls to be found.
I knew they would disappear when the house filled up with holiday visitors! That’s why I mentioned them to my son before he went upstairs. I was also not surprised when he gave me his very best blank stare (that usually means he thinks my voice sounds like the teacher from Charley Brown) as he patiently waited for me to stop talking.
When I asked him about it, he said he didn’t touch them. He pulled out one towel and the blanket for his bed and left the rest in the dryer. What am I supposed to think? I used to have six balls and now I have three and I am really annoyed.
One ball was wedged between the washer and the wall, so now I have four. I searched around the room, looking through other piles of laundry. I even climbed on top of the washer and dryer to peek behind them and checked under the radiator.
They had vanished into thin air!
I glanced around the room across the hall, thinking maybe they had rolled away. Then I looked in my sons room, not trusting that they weren’t in there somewhere.
Several days later, when they still hadn’t shown up (and somehow I’m back down to three), I gave my best “Mom rant” about how things just seem to disappear when the kids come home and how I know they think I’m a crazy lady harping about dryer balls. I’m sure anyone reading this can just picture the blank expressions that I received along with very subtle mouth twitches as they made every attempt to not laugh in my face.
The only response I got was from my son who said, “Mom, I don’t have them. Ask Winn.”
ruh-roh
Ask Winn? What the hell? Aside from the fact that Winn is like Mary Poppins in that she is practically perfect in every way, I couldn’t see how she could have anything to do with the missing balls. Did he think she ate them? (That’s actually not a crazy thought.)
Two weeks later, I was folding a load of laundry and now there are only two balls in the dryer. OMG WHAT IS GOING ON!!!
I can’t blame the children because they’ve both returned to their respective homes and I’m completely frustrated. Once again, I scrambled around the laundry room looking under, over and behind every nook and cranny. I searched every room in the house, under beds, couches, radiators. Then I went into my own room and looked under my bed.
Holy s**t!
There was a sea of balls of all sizes under there!
I grabbed the vacuum wand, sprawled out on the floor on my stomach and started sweeping my arm back and forth. Balls went shooting out from under the bed in all directions.
In addition to a vast assortment of balls of all sizes, there were three dryer balls!
Apparently, I’m the only one who puts the balls back in the glass jar after I’ve used them. Other people (ahem) in my house just leave them in the dryer, with the door open, until a new load is thrown in.
It appears that Winn has discovered this seemingly endless supply of soft, cushy balls. She has a had a grand time flinging them around, mostly in my room. (I guess she’s not as much like Mary Poppins as I would like to think.)
So……I owe my children an apology. (What better way than putting it into a blog post.) I also need to keep the dryer balls out of Winn’s reach.
I’m still looking for one more dryer ball but five balls work way better than just two so I’m happy for the time being.
Thanksgiving is a time to be grateful.
Somehow, they both knew that these cookies were for them and they watched my every move with anticipation. They knew that good things were coming and they simply needed to wait. They also thought it might help speed things along if they gave me a nudge now and then but their eager eyes usually do the trick.
Once the cookies were done, I moved on to the pumpkin pies. I gave them both a taste of the cooked pumpkin, which they loved, and decided to offer the pot to them for one or two licks. I should have known that Winn would stick her whole head into the pot and come up with pumpkin all over her! I pulled it away, gave Maisie the chance for a lick and decided that was enough. They get dirty enough on their own, I certainly don’t need to add to their need for a bath.
Thanksgiving morning we all (not including the dogs) participated in a 5K family fun run. We actually did a brisk walk since not all of us are runners. I had to do a fair amount of cajoling to get everyone to participate but they were up, dressed and ready to go at 8:15 just like I asked (despite my son’s raging hangover and my daughters aversion to races). It was bitterly cold but it was a very festive atmosphere. We were surrounded by families and it felt good (at least to my husband and I) to get some exercise before we sat down for a big meal.
I thought it was a great way to start the day and we then went on to cook, watch football, take naps and eat one of our favorite meals of the year.
The dogs were outside enjoying the cool weather while we did all of the work. It took several hours of blowing, raking and scooping but we got it most of it done with about 15 minutes to spare before the truck came down the alley to collect the bags. They come once a week so I was thrilled that we got all of the bags filled and taken away in the same day.
After getting the leaves taken care of (before a big storm was due to roll in), I moved on to getting the front porch ready for the season. This involved cleaning out all of the baskets and pots, removing the furniture cushions, storing the small furniture under the deck and then hanging the Christmas decorations. I’m glad I was able to get all of that done while it was still relatively warm out, the temperature was due to drop along with a big snow storm blowing through the area.
Bogart was my husbands bachelor dog and easily adapted to our growing and changing family. He was so gentle but also had a talent for escaping and getting into things. I wrote about him on National Mutt Day, you can read more about him 
When we moved into our current house, there were two Newfoundlands in the neighborhood that I noticed while out for their daily walk. I thought they were the most beautiful dogs I’d ever seen and after meeting and talking to their owners, I just knew that was the breed for me.
Charlie was a Newfoundland/Labrador mix that we adopted several months after we said goodbye to Bogart. Bailey was about a year old and we missed having two dogs. We think he was about three years old when he was found with another small dog in the woods in Tennessee and they were both transported to Illinois by a rescue group. He was very thin when we brought him home and he was always a hunter, I assume because he lived in the wild before he was found. We frequently found dead animals (squirrels, birds, possums and chipmunks) in the yard. He loved to be warm. He would curl up next to radiators and sit as close to the fireplace as he could get. His fur would be hot to the touch, but he would be so content. He tried curling up with Bailey whenever he could but she was always hot and she would “kangaroo leg” him to get him to back off. Bailey constantly bossed him around and he was pretty tolerant of her moods. Occasionally he would let her know that he’d had enough and she would look so offended when he snarled at her. She never really understood why there might be a problem, but they bonded well and depended on each other for the rest of their lives. Charlie curled up by my feet and died 2 weeks after Bailey died and I will always remember them together; they lived together and they died together.
After losing Bailey and Charlie, I vowed to never again have two dogs close in age, the heartache was just too much. When Maisie was three years old I found Annie. Her age was presumed to be between 7-9 when she was rescued and she had been in foster care for a year. After doing some internet research on my own, I believe she was 9 1/2 when we adopted her. She was a puppy mill mama that was severely traumatized from years of abuse and neglect but she found a new life after she was rescued and blossomed in the two years that she was a part of our family. The first time I heard the term “heart dog”, I considered all of my dogs as my heart dog, I love them all so much. That was until I met Annie. There was something very different about our bond, probably because she needed me so much and I was driven to show her as much love as possible to make up for all of the years that we didn’t have together. She was very, very special and she changed me. She made me a better person and those two short years were a lifetime for us. She will always be with me, she is my heart dog and I wish I had more time with her.
He had so much energy and climbed trees trying to get to the squirrels. He actually took the bark off of one tree with all of his attempts! During my son’s backyard 4th birthday party, a baby squirrel fell into the yard (another squirrel story) and Bogart quickly grabbed it much to the horror of all of the children and parents in attendance. I’m sure you can imagine the sound of the instant shrieking chorus! Our elderly neighbor heard the commotion and when I explained to her what had happened she laughed and thought he must have been so proud that he finally caught one. She loved him so much.
He was an absolute maniac in the car and unfortunately never grew out of that no matter how many times we tried to work through it. He ran side to side, pushing off the doors like a swimmer doing a flip turn. Restraining him didn’t work, he escaped out of the harness we tried. Riding in the way back of the wagon was just as bad if not worse, he had more room to zip around with three windows to use as blast-off points. Our car would sway side to side as we made our way down the road and we got lots of crazy stares. The vet became our only planned destination that needed the car, anywhere else was just too exhausting.
I’ve known Lindsay for a long time. She helps me feel young by covering up my gray hair. We’ve had a standing appointment for years, the only thing that has changed is the frequency as I get a little older.
The space is light, bright and welcoming, and has a cool, relaxed vibe. Capone is the shop dog. He casually strolls around, sometimes greeting clients and sometimes sleeping through new arrivals. He has his bed situated by the window and may occasionally be found sprawled out on the couch. Linmay Studio is at the top of my favorites list as a place to sit back and relax. The mood is always friendly and I feel so pampered when I’m there.
A few weeks ago, Lindsey had a special event to introduce Chad, her newly hired stylist, to her clients and she invited Maisie and me to stop by. I have never brought Maisie with me to one of my appointments, I respect the fact that this is Capone’s place and when I’m there, it’s my time for me, I enjoy the break from keeping a well behaved dog by my side. Since Maisie is always eager to check out a new place and meet new friends, I brought her along as my sidekick for the event.
Maisie and Capone got along beautifully, although he did try to claim me as one of HIS people which was pretty funny. We had a nice time sipping Mimosa’s (just for me of course) and Maisie made herself right at home. I admire Lindsay for following her dream and creating this space. She had a vision, and took a leap of faith to make it happen! I look forward to many more years of “me” time with Lindsay and her shop dog Capone.
maisiethenewfieandcompany 