A dog named Boat Beer

My Sissy had an "epic status" on Facebook yesterday.  The "epicness" came from how one of her friends and I completely hijacked all the comments, and even got a few others to play along.  As it turns out though, one of my comments was about shiner minnows.  And in discussing this status with her after the fact I told her how her doggy nephew "Shiner" is named after these minnows.

Both of our dogs have fishing and drinking themes to their names.  Rascal Jack is named after a fishing boat in Hawaii named "The Rascal", and Jack Daniels.  Shiner Bock is named after the aforementioned minnow, and a delcious beer brewed in Texas.  I told my sister that we will forever have to name our dogs after fishing and drinking.  We eventually started laughing about where these names would lead and decided that sooner or later Hot Hubby and I'd run out of ideas and we'd end with a dog named "Boat Beer".

Then, because my sissy and I are quite funny, our giggles turned into us concocting a story about Brian and I being on our deathbed and rewriting our will so that my niece (my sissy's stepdaughter, The Artist) would end up with Boat Beer.  And we'd will her a lifetime supply of milk bones to keep Boat Beer happy.  And she'd have to love Boat Beer even though he will be slobbery.  And her friends would extend their sympathies for our passing, but she'd be a wee bit fussy that we left her with a slobbery, snuggly, huge dog named Boat Beer.

Oh, how my sissy can make me laugh!  A laugh that I think she definitely needed.  And I'm thankful for our laughter together.

Boa Retirement

One of the best parts of wearing a boa is the molting!  You leave behind a small part of the fun with each feather that falls.  Sometimes I'd find boa feathers in my car WEEKS after the last time I wore a boa.

Boa feather on the field at Kinnick Stadium 

GO HAWKS!

The unfortunate part of leaving a bit of the fun behind is that eventually the boa is less full, and will eventually need to be retired.  I am planing on retiring my very first Iowa Hawkeye boa on January 28th.  After running the Securian 10k in St. Paul, I am heading to White Bear Lake to participate in the Polar Bear Plunge.   I will be wearing my boa as I jump into the lake!

It will be a bittersweet (and chilly) moment!  This boa has been along for some seriously fun times...

KINNICK

Camp Randall - During a Hawkeye win over the Badgers 20-10

GO HAWKS!

Tailgating with the Luther boys

With friends that feel more like family 

On the wedding day of two amazing people!

Tomorrow when I jump into White Bear Lake, the boa is jumping with me.  It will be the last time I'll wear this one.  What a fun, fabulous, fantastic event to retire it at!

I agreed to wha?!

As you know, I have dubbed 2012 as the Year of Extreme Racing.  My first extreme race will be on January 28th when I run the Securian 10k in St. Paul, then head to White Bear Lake to participate in the Polar Bear Plunge!  But I just agreed to something much more extreme than jumping in a freezing cold lake, or climbing the stairs of a skyscraper, or running an over night running relay.  I just agreed to go to the Minneapolis Boat Show with my husband... *shudders*

See, I haven't been to the Boat Show in 20+ years.  I can't even look at the billboards, hear the radio ads, or see the commercials without my stomach doing a little flip flop.  It's only within the past 2 years that I've even considered going back to the Minneapolis Convention Center.  The last time I was at the Boat Show I left the building bleeding profusely out the back of my head, with my mom incredibly pissed that we had just paid $20 to walk through the door. 

My parents and I had just started walking through the boats.  They turned around to leave the second vessel we checked out, and someone cut me off so I was stuck there.  Being a kid I thought I'd just duck out the corner of the boat instead... duh, I'm nimble!  But when I stepped out of the boat, I didn't step onto the platform.  My foot missed completely and I fell out of the boat.  I hit my head on the boat, then on the wheel well of the trailer, then the frame of the trailer, and finally on the concrete floor of the Convention Center.

I'm laying on the ground screaming in pain!  My parents turn around when they hear the cries and discover it's their child who is making all the racket.  My dad reaches down to pick me up and helps me stand on the platform. 

I then have a conversation that goes like this:
Mom: Stop crying!  You're acting like a baby!  What's the matter with you?  Shut your mouth!  I'll give you something to cry about!
Me (sobbing uncontrollably): There's s-s-something running d-d-down my back!
Mom (eyes grow wide): OH SHIT!

I black out at this point.  I wake up in a hospital while a doctor is coming at me with a large needle to numb my skull so he can put in 8 stitches.  Thank the heavens that it was January in MN, and we had only been at the show for a few minutes.  I didn't even have time to take my jacket off, and I think the hood may have saved me!

I hate the Boat Show.  I love my husband.  2012, the year of extremes!  Game On.