Here's a scary thought

Have you felt like hell was freezing over recently? Seen pigs fly, perhaps? Well, it's all because el Freddo and I have started hitting the gym again. Hard.

Some of you (Jeffe and Tee Tee Denise, I'm looking at YOU) were around when I couldn't live through a day if I didn't spend part of it with weights in my hands. Well, it aint' quite THAT bad this time around, thanks, in part, to some really old, creaky knees, ankle, vertebrae...you get the idea.

But the really remarkable thing is that the husbie has the bug. Bad. That man is on a bike or a treadmill a LOT. Heck, he even hits the gym on days my round white fanny ain't leavin' the couch. He dropped 10 in record time and seems to be on his way to 20 in a hurry. Go baby!

For me, the question is: Will I get back in shape before any of my parts give out? Stay tuned...

Three Dog Night

You know those crazy pet hoarders? The ones that get raided by the cops every few years for having 300 dogs on a half-acre lot? Well, I'm well on my way to becoming one of those.

For Christmas, I asked for and, after extensive begging, got a third dog. Fred named him Barsky, after the producer on "Dirty Jobs," one of Fred's favorite shows.

I like it too, except for the vast quantities of poo regularly featured on the show.

So here we are. Two chihuahuas, one poodle, one child and two adults, cleverly hidden under mounds of dog hair.

An important safety tip: Don't come visiting if you don't like dog hair. Or being barked at by tiny dogs.