This is a horrifying story. Simply coincidence that I'm telling it on Halloween, wasn't intended that way.
A friend of ours recently experienced one of a parent's worst nightmares (we just found out about it this week though). All names have been changed to protect their identities.
Our friend, "Jeff", had taken his family out to dinner at a local restaurant. His family consisting of wife, 5 yr. old daughters, and 10 year old son, "Paul".
As they were being shown to their table, Paul felt a call of nature. Hey, the kid is 10 years old, he's old enough to go to the bathroom unassisted, right? Until now, I would've thought so, but now I'm not so sure.
Jeff told Paul to go to use the restaurant's restroom while he accompanied the women in his life to their table. Several minutes had passed and Paul hadn't returned. Thinking that perhaps he might be getting sick, Jeff finally went to check on him.
Just as Jeff was entering the restroom, Paul was exiting a stall that had a strange man in it. Alarms started going off in Jeff's head and he felt physically ill. He asked Paul what was going on. The child immediately became upset. Jeff called the police from his cell phone and blocked the restrooms exit so the man couldn't leave.
Long story short, the man had lured Paul into the stall to molest him.
While I don't have the exact details (nor do I want to know them), I don't for sure what was done to the child. But even if nothing actually transpired, just the very notion that the man managed to get Paul into the stall to proposition him is scary enough.
Jeff said it took every ounce of his being to not do the man bodily harm. Jeff is a big man, and add to that fact an enraged parent, and he could've probably killed the man on the spot.
It breaks my heart for what their family is having to go through. Jeff & Beth will probably never let any of their children go into a public restroom ever again unaccompanied. Paul is no doubt so traumatized over the whole event that he'll be mentally/emotionally scarred for a long time (if not for life).
Parents can't be told enough to talk to their children. Regardless of their age, they need to know the dangers that are out their. While parents would like to build a protective bubble around their kids to shield them from any harm, it's just not feasible to watch over them every minute of every day. There are times they will be out of your sight, even if only for a few minutes.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Saturday Nostalgia - Happy Halloween
Halloween is normally my favorite holiday and in years past, I've decorated the outside of the house with all sorts of things. For those of you that are new to my blog in the past year and a half or there'bouts, let me tell you of one decoration I kept on my porch year-round. It was a Festivus Tree (the idea came to me thanks to an episode of "Seinfeld"). We had purchased an artificial Christmas tree one year after the holiday clearance sales, I think I paid all of $12 for it. We "planted" it in a large flower pot with cement instead of dirt. I changed the decorations almost monthly, depending on the holiday, season or other occasion that was upon us...
I decorated the tree for Super Bowl, Mardi Gras, Valentines, St. Pat's, Easter, Cinco de Mayo, Memorial Day, Flag Day, 4th of July, beach party, the heat of summer (with chili pepper lights), Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas.
It became somewhat of a landmark in our neighborhood. Neighbors that were perhaps giving directions to people on how to get their house would say something like, "when you see the house with the holiday tree on the front porch, turn left...". Some of the neighbors didn't care too much for it, thought it was a bit of an eye sore, others seemed to love it. After we finally took it down, as the branches had started to rust and would send up clouds of rust-dust every time I changed the decor, many asked us if/when we would put up another. It's been gone for about a year and a half now. Goodness knows I've got several large Rubbermaid containers in the attic with all sorts of decorations that are just going to waste right now, but of late, I just haven't had the energy or desire to drag them out and decorate the house and lawn.
I didn't even buy a pumpkin this year.
When I was a kid, there were literally a hundred-plus kids that would come through our neighborhood. Running out of candy was a common thing. Back then, you didn't have all these churches, fire departments and other places holding events for kids like they do now days so kids will have someplace "safe" to go. In the 15 years we've been at our current home, I don't think we've ever had more than 40 kids stop by. Even though we're surrounded by subdivisions, the kids just don't seem to venture out like they used to, and left-over candy is pretty much a guarantee at the end of the evening. I think it's rather sad the way this "holiday" has changed over the years.
I can't ever remember having a store-bought costume when I was a kid. It was always something we created ourselves or something my grandmother made for me. While I don't remember every single costume I wore, the two that stand out in my memory was the year I went as a bunny rabbit, and the bob-cat costume. Mom has pix of both someplace.
'Nuff of my nostalgia. I'm recycling my pumpkin pictures from last Halloween...
Perhaps that patchwork pumpkin was the start of my desire to create a patchwork quilt.
I decorated the tree for Super Bowl, Mardi Gras, Valentines, St. Pat's, Easter, Cinco de Mayo, Memorial Day, Flag Day, 4th of July, beach party, the heat of summer (with chili pepper lights), Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas.
It became somewhat of a landmark in our neighborhood. Neighbors that were perhaps giving directions to people on how to get their house would say something like, "when you see the house with the holiday tree on the front porch, turn left...". Some of the neighbors didn't care too much for it, thought it was a bit of an eye sore, others seemed to love it. After we finally took it down, as the branches had started to rust and would send up clouds of rust-dust every time I changed the decor, many asked us if/when we would put up another. It's been gone for about a year and a half now. Goodness knows I've got several large Rubbermaid containers in the attic with all sorts of decorations that are just going to waste right now, but of late, I just haven't had the energy or desire to drag them out and decorate the house and lawn.
I didn't even buy a pumpkin this year.
When I was a kid, there were literally a hundred-plus kids that would come through our neighborhood. Running out of candy was a common thing. Back then, you didn't have all these churches, fire departments and other places holding events for kids like they do now days so kids will have someplace "safe" to go. In the 15 years we've been at our current home, I don't think we've ever had more than 40 kids stop by. Even though we're surrounded by subdivisions, the kids just don't seem to venture out like they used to, and left-over candy is pretty much a guarantee at the end of the evening. I think it's rather sad the way this "holiday" has changed over the years.
I can't ever remember having a store-bought costume when I was a kid. It was always something we created ourselves or something my grandmother made for me. While I don't remember every single costume I wore, the two that stand out in my memory was the year I went as a bunny rabbit, and the bob-cat costume. Mom has pix of both someplace.
'Nuff of my nostalgia. I'm recycling my pumpkin pictures from last Halloween...
Perhaps that patchwork pumpkin was the start of my desire to create a patchwork quilt.
Friday photo challenge - irreplaceable
Irreplaceable... my darling Bootsy's tail.
This is the only photo I have of her that clearly shows her long, beautiful, white-tipped tail, before that maniac veterinarian chopped it off, leaving her with less than a 6" nub.
This is the only photo I have of her that clearly shows her long, beautiful, white-tipped tail, before that maniac veterinarian chopped it off, leaving her with less than a 6" nub.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Recipe magazine
I get a quarterly magazine from Kraft foods that I just love!!
It's free, doesn't cost me a penny, and is the only magazine I subscribe to (and not just because it's free) as it's the only one I've ever truly enjoyed reading and found useful. I've brought it to work with me on several occasions and my co-workers have enjoyed it so much that they've signed up for it as well.
I thought I'd share the link with all of my readers. If you're interested, you can sign up as well.
http://www.kraftfoods.com/kf/registration/contextualsignuplogin.aspx
Each magazine is full of recipes, tips and ideas, menu planning, and sometimes coupons.
Enjoy!
It's free, doesn't cost me a penny, and is the only magazine I subscribe to (and not just because it's free) as it's the only one I've ever truly enjoyed reading and found useful. I've brought it to work with me on several occasions and my co-workers have enjoyed it so much that they've signed up for it as well.
I thought I'd share the link with all of my readers. If you're interested, you can sign up as well.
http://www.kraftfoods.com/kf/registration/contextualsignuplogin.aspx
Each magazine is full of recipes, tips and ideas, menu planning, and sometimes coupons.
Enjoy!
Crockpot challenge
Day 15) Oct. 30th - Chicken & Dumplings w/mixed vegetables.
I'm half-way through my crock-pot challenge.
So far, for the 15 days I've I've done this, I've managed to use the crockpot 12 times, even if it was for something as simple as queso, and haven't repeated any of my recipes as yet.
I'm half-way through my crock-pot challenge.
So far, for the 15 days I've I've done this, I've managed to use the crockpot 12 times, even if it was for something as simple as queso, and haven't repeated any of my recipes as yet.
Fantasy man?
There are a lot of hot, sexy, good-looking, make-you-drool-and-want-to-leave-your-husband men out there in the world. Okay, perhaps they wouldn't necessarily make good husbands, but you still like to fantasize about them.
Some, that's all we can do is fantasize, because lets face it, many of the best looking, hottest men out there are gay and basically off limits to us women. My favorite weatherman for example. **sigh**
Okay, so of all these hotties out there I could be fantasizing about and that could be entering my dreams while I sleep, who enters my dreams last night, playing the part of an old boyfriend?
Richard Dreyfuss!
WTH? I mean, he's a short, balding, starting to look a bit pot-bellied, Bill Clinton-look-alike, that's older than my parents.
Honestly, is this the best that my sleep-time imagination can come up with?
Some, that's all we can do is fantasize, because lets face it, many of the best looking, hottest men out there are gay and basically off limits to us women. My favorite weatherman for example. **sigh**
Okay, so of all these hotties out there I could be fantasizing about and that could be entering my dreams while I sleep, who enters my dreams last night, playing the part of an old boyfriend?
Richard Dreyfuss!
WTH? I mean, he's a short, balding, starting to look a bit pot-bellied, Bill Clinton-look-alike, that's older than my parents.
Honestly, is this the best that my sleep-time imagination can come up with?
My new work uniform
As most of you know (or at least, SOME do), I work in a funeral home. In theory, we're supposed to dress "professionally".
**yawn**
I push the bar on this rule, dressing as casual as possible without actually looking like a total bum. I don't wear denim, sweats or sneakers.
This is one of my more common arguments with my boss, who dresses frequently in shorts, sweats, denim, stained t-shirts, whatever. Oh sure, if we're having a funeral, visitation, or he knows he has to make arrangements with a family, he'll put on a suit, but the rest of the time, he pretty much looks like a couch potato. My argument is that it isn't fair to the rest of us... or at least, not to me, because I'd like to dress equally as comfortably as him. His argument is that since he lives here, he can change clothes on a moments notice. Okay, that's all good and fine if he has some advanced warning that a family will be coming in. But what about all the walk-ins we get, and trust me, we get a lot. I kid you not, he's made arrangements with family dressed in his baggy pants decorated with red chili peppers and a stained t-shirt before for a family that walked in unannounced. Professional? I think not.
Now, considering I sit upstairs in a cubicle and seldom have to deal with the public face to face, I think if anyone should be dressing casually it should be me.
So I think tomorrow (Halloween), I'm going to show up in my new work uniform.
Do you think the boss would mind?
Picture courtesy of TraceyTreasure over at Green-Eyed-Momster.
**yawn**
I push the bar on this rule, dressing as casual as possible without actually looking like a total bum. I don't wear denim, sweats or sneakers.
This is one of my more common arguments with my boss, who dresses frequently in shorts, sweats, denim, stained t-shirts, whatever. Oh sure, if we're having a funeral, visitation, or he knows he has to make arrangements with a family, he'll put on a suit, but the rest of the time, he pretty much looks like a couch potato. My argument is that it isn't fair to the rest of us... or at least, not to me, because I'd like to dress equally as comfortably as him. His argument is that since he lives here, he can change clothes on a moments notice. Okay, that's all good and fine if he has some advanced warning that a family will be coming in. But what about all the walk-ins we get, and trust me, we get a lot. I kid you not, he's made arrangements with family dressed in his baggy pants decorated with red chili peppers and a stained t-shirt before for a family that walked in unannounced. Professional? I think not.
Now, considering I sit upstairs in a cubicle and seldom have to deal with the public face to face, I think if anyone should be dressing casually it should be me.
So I think tomorrow (Halloween), I'm going to show up in my new work uniform.
Do you think the boss would mind?
Picture courtesy of TraceyTreasure over at Green-Eyed-Momster.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Crockpot challenge
Day 14) Oct. 29th - Sloppy Josephine (sloppy joe made with shredded chicken instead of ground beef).
Bringing nature indoors
Now that cold weather has officially set in, at least temporarily (it's s'posed to be 70 on Friday, yippee!!!) with overnight temps around the freezing mark, I finally broke down and turned the furnace on. I've been bringing the froglets in at night and setting their habitat in the garage for a few weeks now. But since it's turned especially cold, as our garage isn't heated, I've been bringing them in the house. I don't think the husband is especially pleased over this, especially since they are sitting in the kitchen at this present time. I think I need to clear a space on the entertainment center for them, just need to get motivated. Right now it's just easier to move them from one side of the counter to the other.
With the daytime temps staying in the 40's, it has become increasingly difficult to find insects, more specifically small insects for my three stooges to eat. The poor little things went for a full day and a half without anything. Needless to say, they went into a bit of a dormant stage, tucking their little legs in close and moving as little as possible to conserve energy.
I went 'net surfing yesterday, looking to see where I could purchase small insects. There's actually a website that sells crickets & mealworms (a website for everything I suppose!), crickets in a variety of sizes, but my goodness!, they're sold in such large quantities. I don't want to raise crickets to feed my froglets, just purchase a half dozen or so at a time. I stopped at the local pet food store last night and purchased 1/2 dozen (actually, they gave me 9) for the bargain price of .64cents . Even though they were labeled "small", I had my doubts as to whether any of my froglets aside from Curly, would be able to actually eat these bugs.
Before dumping the crickets into their habitat, I went outside and made one last effort to find some ants. I hit pay dirt, finding a heavy ant-trail in one of the usual spots. I swept them up and deposited them in the tank. Then added a scoop of potting soil to one corner of the tank then added the crickets.
I sat, no exaggeration, for over an hour just watching the activity within. While I sat and watched, Eliott stood beside me, his head in my lap while I rubbed his ears and head, he too occasionally looked up and seemed to be watching the activity within.
Little gnats emerged from the dirt, now providing three dining choices. The froglets needed some prodding to fully wake up, but once they started to stir and realized the buffet was open, they really came to life.
They truly are very entertaining little critters to watch. Moe & Larry stayed as far away from the crickets as they could. Considering how much bigger the crickets were, I couldn't blame them. There were a couple of crickets that were very small and Curly could've easily consumed, but he decided to go for the gusto and tackled one of the larger crickets. He wasn't able to eat it at that time because the two of them wrestled around and the cricket ended up getting wedged, upside down, under a rock. Curly gave up and returned to eating ants and gnats.
As the weather is supposed to warm up again this weekend, I know I'll be able to find bugs around the yard, but I suppose once it turns cold again (and remains so for the rest of the year), I'll have to break down and buy some of the tiny crickets online. 1000 crickets for $10, that's not a bad price, is it?
With the daytime temps staying in the 40's, it has become increasingly difficult to find insects, more specifically small insects for my three stooges to eat. The poor little things went for a full day and a half without anything. Needless to say, they went into a bit of a dormant stage, tucking their little legs in close and moving as little as possible to conserve energy.
I went 'net surfing yesterday, looking to see where I could purchase small insects. There's actually a website that sells crickets & mealworms (a website for everything I suppose!), crickets in a variety of sizes, but my goodness!, they're sold in such large quantities. I don't want to raise crickets to feed my froglets, just purchase a half dozen or so at a time. I stopped at the local pet food store last night and purchased 1/2 dozen (actually, they gave me 9) for the bargain price of .64cents . Even though they were labeled "small", I had my doubts as to whether any of my froglets aside from Curly, would be able to actually eat these bugs.
Before dumping the crickets into their habitat, I went outside and made one last effort to find some ants. I hit pay dirt, finding a heavy ant-trail in one of the usual spots. I swept them up and deposited them in the tank. Then added a scoop of potting soil to one corner of the tank then added the crickets.
I sat, no exaggeration, for over an hour just watching the activity within. While I sat and watched, Eliott stood beside me, his head in my lap while I rubbed his ears and head, he too occasionally looked up and seemed to be watching the activity within.
Little gnats emerged from the dirt, now providing three dining choices. The froglets needed some prodding to fully wake up, but once they started to stir and realized the buffet was open, they really came to life.
They truly are very entertaining little critters to watch. Moe & Larry stayed as far away from the crickets as they could. Considering how much bigger the crickets were, I couldn't blame them. There were a couple of crickets that were very small and Curly could've easily consumed, but he decided to go for the gusto and tackled one of the larger crickets. He wasn't able to eat it at that time because the two of them wrestled around and the cricket ended up getting wedged, upside down, under a rock. Curly gave up and returned to eating ants and gnats.
As the weather is supposed to warm up again this weekend, I know I'll be able to find bugs around the yard, but I suppose once it turns cold again (and remains so for the rest of the year), I'll have to break down and buy some of the tiny crickets online. 1000 crickets for $10, that's not a bad price, is it?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Random things
**I love that moment when I arrive home and Olivia will be sitting in her crate watching me walk in. She tilts her head a bit and her ears are cocked, and then when she finally realizes it's me, her ears drop as she puts on her doggy-smile and the tail starts thumping madly. I just love that moment of recognition on her face!
**We have a pantie thief amongst us.
Sunday night, I gathered up the last load of dirty laundry, carried it into the hall and deposited it on the floor in front of the washer. The clothes in the dryer weren't quite dry as yet, so I couldn't transfer the recently washed load out. It was bedtime, so with the load in the hall floor, I knew I'd be more likely to make sure they got washed the next morning, than if I left them piled in the bedroom floor. Next morning I got up to let the dogs out, then went back to bed for an hour 'til the alarm went off. Sometime during that hour, one of my children decided to rummage through the pile of laundry. When I later got up, after showering, I washed the final load of clothing, unaware there was a pair of black panties missing from the pile. After I'd finished getting ready for work, I walked into the living room where the children were curled up together on their futon. Tucked into Olivia's curled paw, with her sleeping head resting on them were my missing panties. She hadn't chewed them up, simply curled up with them like a small child hugging a security blanket.
**Our new roof has been getting lots of compliments. We've had people stop, both friends, mere acquaintances and virtual strangers, and tell us how much they like our new roof. One man said his wife had told him after seeing it that she thought it was the best roofing job she'd ever seen.
I thought that was a bit extreme, but I'm glad everyone seems to like it.
**It's that time of year again. Time to re-enroll in the employee benefits, insurance, etc.etc. I detest this. It always falls to me to handle, for both the husband and I, through both of our employers. He's clueless, and chooses to remain that way, leaving the decisions to me. So I get to spend mindless hours, reading through the monotonous information packets, filling out forms, going on-line to complete questionnaires, and having my hair go a bit grayer from the process. Gone are the days of having things stay "status-quo" from one year to the next unless you make changes. Oh noooo! Now you HAVE to re-enroll or else get bumped down a notch in benefits. FILTH-FLARN-FILTH!!!!
**We have a pantie thief amongst us.
Sunday night, I gathered up the last load of dirty laundry, carried it into the hall and deposited it on the floor in front of the washer. The clothes in the dryer weren't quite dry as yet, so I couldn't transfer the recently washed load out. It was bedtime, so with the load in the hall floor, I knew I'd be more likely to make sure they got washed the next morning, than if I left them piled in the bedroom floor. Next morning I got up to let the dogs out, then went back to bed for an hour 'til the alarm went off. Sometime during that hour, one of my children decided to rummage through the pile of laundry. When I later got up, after showering, I washed the final load of clothing, unaware there was a pair of black panties missing from the pile. After I'd finished getting ready for work, I walked into the living room where the children were curled up together on their futon. Tucked into Olivia's curled paw, with her sleeping head resting on them were my missing panties. She hadn't chewed them up, simply curled up with them like a small child hugging a security blanket.
**Our new roof has been getting lots of compliments. We've had people stop, both friends, mere acquaintances and virtual strangers, and tell us how much they like our new roof. One man said his wife had told him after seeing it that she thought it was the best roofing job she'd ever seen.
I thought that was a bit extreme, but I'm glad everyone seems to like it.
**It's that time of year again. Time to re-enroll in the employee benefits, insurance, etc.etc. I detest this. It always falls to me to handle, for both the husband and I, through both of our employers. He's clueless, and chooses to remain that way, leaving the decisions to me. So I get to spend mindless hours, reading through the monotonous information packets, filling out forms, going on-line to complete questionnaires, and having my hair go a bit grayer from the process. Gone are the days of having things stay "status-quo" from one year to the next unless you make changes. Oh noooo! Now you HAVE to re-enroll or else get bumped down a notch in benefits. FILTH-FLARN-FILTH!!!!
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Breakfast Club
I just watched, for probably the 500th time, the movie "The Breakfast Club". I love this movie. It's not that it's an especially great movie, but there is something about it that just speaks to me. I feel (or at least, when I was the age of the main characters in the movie) like a little bit of me was speaking through each one.
The social differences between the kids... while it's true in all aspects of life, it's very painfully obvious as teens, the little "clicks" that are formed, and the kids that are shunned for one reason or another and usually through no fault of their own. Goodness knows I felt it big time while growing up.
If I had to identify myself with any one character, I couldn't do it. But a combination of Brian (the brainchild... 'though I was hardly a brainchild) and Allison (the outcast) pretty well sums up my personality. I wasn't a princess like Clair, nor an athlete like Andy, nor a druggy like John. And yet, each of those kids goes through many of the same problems that I, and dare I say, most ALL teens go through, and that's what united them in the end, discovering that they were more alike than they ever knew. And they each shared the common bond of having issues with their parents.
I almost wish there was a "Breakfast Club II" movie... 25 years later, so we could see how the characters turned out.
When I look at the group of friends that I have now, that I'm closest to, if we had been the same age growing up (because all my closest friends I have now are considerably younger than myself), I think I can safely say we wouldn't have been friends when we were in high school. Passing acquaintances at best.
I love my girlfriends that I have now, but we are all so very different, we would've fallen into different clicks that wouldn't have meshed. So why is it that people that would've never given each other the time of day as teens, can become best friends as adults?
Because we grow up and learn that those differences are what make us individuals and enable each of us to bring something unique to the table, so to speak. We learn to accept, even cherish each others individuality.
I've blogged about it before, and in way I guess I'm blogging about it again... beware the dangers of conformity. Be yourself. Stop trying to impress others by being something you're not.
I think this movie should be required watching, not only for all teens, but for every person that contemplates becoming a parent. With a refresher every couple of years after their child is born.
Okay, I'm done rambling now.
The social differences between the kids... while it's true in all aspects of life, it's very painfully obvious as teens, the little "clicks" that are formed, and the kids that are shunned for one reason or another and usually through no fault of their own. Goodness knows I felt it big time while growing up.
If I had to identify myself with any one character, I couldn't do it. But a combination of Brian (the brainchild... 'though I was hardly a brainchild) and Allison (the outcast) pretty well sums up my personality. I wasn't a princess like Clair, nor an athlete like Andy, nor a druggy like John. And yet, each of those kids goes through many of the same problems that I, and dare I say, most ALL teens go through, and that's what united them in the end, discovering that they were more alike than they ever knew. And they each shared the common bond of having issues with their parents.
I almost wish there was a "Breakfast Club II" movie... 25 years later, so we could see how the characters turned out.
When I look at the group of friends that I have now, that I'm closest to, if we had been the same age growing up (because all my closest friends I have now are considerably younger than myself), I think I can safely say we wouldn't have been friends when we were in high school. Passing acquaintances at best.
I love my girlfriends that I have now, but we are all so very different, we would've fallen into different clicks that wouldn't have meshed. So why is it that people that would've never given each other the time of day as teens, can become best friends as adults?
Because we grow up and learn that those differences are what make us individuals and enable each of us to bring something unique to the table, so to speak. We learn to accept, even cherish each others individuality.
I've blogged about it before, and in way I guess I'm blogging about it again... beware the dangers of conformity. Be yourself. Stop trying to impress others by being something you're not.
I think this movie should be required watching, not only for all teens, but for every person that contemplates becoming a parent. With a refresher every couple of years after their child is born.
Okay, I'm done rambling now.
Weekend in review
The hubby is back home again. On one hand, YEA!! On the other hand... I miss the quiet.
While I was glad to see him and gave him a big hug to welcome him home, our fighting resumed within minutes. Don't rightly recall what the argument was even about. Something trivial I'm sure, as it usually is. But hey, 20 years of bickering and we're still together. That's how some couples express their affection for one another. If you don't believe me, try watching "Everybody Loves Raymond" and pay attention to his parents. Part of me thinks that couple was modeled after John & I.
I even told John at one point that I hadn't had to raise my voice one time all week, and here I was yelling at him, so perhaps he should go on vacation without me again.
Isn't love grand?
The past couple of weeks have been hell on my allergies. This is the worst they've been in 12 years. I wasn't due for another shot for two more weeks, but I couldn't take it any longer. After a miserable nights sleep (or lack there of, I should say), I went Saturday for another shot. When we got up early that morning to tend to the dogs, I popped my Claritin and a couple of Benadryl for good measure and went back to bed where I finally fell asleep, not getting up 'til 9:30. Practically unheard of for me! We'd had intentions of going to Panera for breakfast, but it was so late when we got there, they were sold out of souffles(sp?) and getting ready to start serving lunch. Panera is a breakfast place for me, not lunch or dinner. Instead we went to Applebees, then on to Sam's Club. While walking around Sam's, the Benadryl suddenly seemed to kick-in (yes, 6 hours after taking it) and I started getting loopy and very light-headed. I had to fight to keep my knees from buckling and leaned on the buggy. I informed John he'd have to drive us home. I poured myself into the passenger seat and willed myself to go to sleep, but his jerky driving of my manual transmission was enough to keep me awake and nagging him that he was going to tear up my car.
Welcome home honey, it's good to have you back!
Sunday morning, while I was no longer sneezing or having the drippy nose, I did have a sinus headache that lasted 'til, well, actually, I still have it today. But I drug my arse to the farm anyway. It was a cool, crisp, breezy morning. The horses were feeling frisky and it showed. Now that cooler weather is here, more of the horses are brought in at night and turned out during the day. When we took the last two out, including my personal favorite Sampson, he and his buddy Emray kicked up their heels and ran several laps around their pasture. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Their energy stirred up some of the horses in other pastures and they began to run as well. We just stood back and watched with smiles on our faces and a happiness inside.
The rest of my day was spent doing laundry, cleaning the frogs' habitat (Moe, Larry & Curly are all still doing fine) and working on my quilt. Now I'm whiling away the hours 'til quitting time so I can get to the chiropractor for an unscheduled adjustment. After that little fall I took Friday morning, my neck and shoulder have been hurting like crazy and you can literally feel a knot in my neck where the muscle is knotted up.
Have a great week everyone!!
While I was glad to see him and gave him a big hug to welcome him home, our fighting resumed within minutes. Don't rightly recall what the argument was even about. Something trivial I'm sure, as it usually is. But hey, 20 years of bickering and we're still together. That's how some couples express their affection for one another. If you don't believe me, try watching "Everybody Loves Raymond" and pay attention to his parents. Part of me thinks that couple was modeled after John & I.
I even told John at one point that I hadn't had to raise my voice one time all week, and here I was yelling at him, so perhaps he should go on vacation without me again.
Isn't love grand?
The past couple of weeks have been hell on my allergies. This is the worst they've been in 12 years. I wasn't due for another shot for two more weeks, but I couldn't take it any longer. After a miserable nights sleep (or lack there of, I should say), I went Saturday for another shot. When we got up early that morning to tend to the dogs, I popped my Claritin and a couple of Benadryl for good measure and went back to bed where I finally fell asleep, not getting up 'til 9:30. Practically unheard of for me! We'd had intentions of going to Panera for breakfast, but it was so late when we got there, they were sold out of souffles(sp?) and getting ready to start serving lunch. Panera is a breakfast place for me, not lunch or dinner. Instead we went to Applebees, then on to Sam's Club. While walking around Sam's, the Benadryl suddenly seemed to kick-in (yes, 6 hours after taking it) and I started getting loopy and very light-headed. I had to fight to keep my knees from buckling and leaned on the buggy. I informed John he'd have to drive us home. I poured myself into the passenger seat and willed myself to go to sleep, but his jerky driving of my manual transmission was enough to keep me awake and nagging him that he was going to tear up my car.
Welcome home honey, it's good to have you back!
Sunday morning, while I was no longer sneezing or having the drippy nose, I did have a sinus headache that lasted 'til, well, actually, I still have it today. But I drug my arse to the farm anyway. It was a cool, crisp, breezy morning. The horses were feeling frisky and it showed. Now that cooler weather is here, more of the horses are brought in at night and turned out during the day. When we took the last two out, including my personal favorite Sampson, he and his buddy Emray kicked up their heels and ran several laps around their pasture. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Their energy stirred up some of the horses in other pastures and they began to run as well. We just stood back and watched with smiles on our faces and a happiness inside.
The rest of my day was spent doing laundry, cleaning the frogs' habitat (Moe, Larry & Curly are all still doing fine) and working on my quilt. Now I'm whiling away the hours 'til quitting time so I can get to the chiropractor for an unscheduled adjustment. After that little fall I took Friday morning, my neck and shoulder have been hurting like crazy and you can literally feel a knot in my neck where the muscle is knotted up.
Have a great week everyone!!
Crockpot challenge
The husband is back home again, therefore the crockpot challenge has resumed.
Day 10) Oct. 25 - queso.
Sorry folks, I was feeling very puney due to my allergies, and we'd had a big meal at lunchtime, so queso for a snack was all my crockpot produced that day.
Day 11) Oct. 26 - chicken. Just plain ol' chicken. I cooked several breasts and thighs in the crockpot so I'd have the meat to use in other recipes.
Day 12) Oct. 27 - left-overs for dinner tonight, as we grilled out yesterday.
Day 10) Oct. 25 - queso.
Sorry folks, I was feeling very puney due to my allergies, and we'd had a big meal at lunchtime, so queso for a snack was all my crockpot produced that day.
Day 11) Oct. 26 - chicken. Just plain ol' chicken. I cooked several breasts and thighs in the crockpot so I'd have the meat to use in other recipes.
Day 12) Oct. 27 - left-overs for dinner tonight, as we grilled out yesterday.
Quilting: Week 3 update
Three weeks of sewing, sewing, sewing! Seems like I spend every free moment stitching flannel squares together. It's getting there, slowly but surely. I still need to add another row to the top (or bottom I suppose) to make it longer so that it will fit our California-King sized bed...
... and the column to the far left isn't actually attached yet.
... and the column to the far left isn't actually attached yet.
Besides those two things, the only thing I've left to do is fill in that "L" shaped white section in the center of the picture. Once all that is complete, I'll be able to attached the back layer of the blanket.
Pet Peeve
Here I go again!
I've blogged about some of my pet-peeves in the past, and I do have many. But here's a new one to add to the list.
From the time we are small children, our parents (usually our mother) tries to teach us table manners. Sit up straight. Don't put your elbows on the table (I'm a big offender of this rule). Don't use your fingers to help rake the food up onto the fork. Use your napkin, not your sleeve... or heaven forbid, the tablecloth!
And the top two lessons they tried to instill in us? Don't talk with your mouth full and don't chew with your mouth open.
I think I can safely say we're all guilty of this to some extent, myself included, if not habitually, at least, from time to time. I mean, I don't sit there chomping my food in a grotesque manner with my mouth open, but yes, I'm guilty of occasionally talking while some food is in my mouth. I'm not excusing my behavior, but I am down-playing the fact that I'm not in front of a tv camera doing so with thousands of people watching.
While getting ready for work this morning I had the tv turned on to WHAS for the morning news. One of the reporters was doing a live-shot from a local restaurant for an upcoming charity event. The chef had prepared some signature dishes and set them out. The reporter wanted to sample the food and said he'd do so while the restaurant's manager talked about the event, so the camera panned to the manager and cut the reporter out of the shot. I don't think he sampled it at that time, but instead waited 'til the camera was back on him, took a bite and then chewed and reported on the event at the same time. Needless to say, I was a bit grossed out!
I think it needs to be station policy, "no eating or even sampling while on the air".
I do believe I'm going to write the station a little note suggesting that.
I've blogged about some of my pet-peeves in the past, and I do have many. But here's a new one to add to the list.
From the time we are small children, our parents (usually our mother) tries to teach us table manners. Sit up straight. Don't put your elbows on the table (I'm a big offender of this rule). Don't use your fingers to help rake the food up onto the fork. Use your napkin, not your sleeve... or heaven forbid, the tablecloth!
And the top two lessons they tried to instill in us? Don't talk with your mouth full and don't chew with your mouth open.
I think I can safely say we're all guilty of this to some extent, myself included, if not habitually, at least, from time to time. I mean, I don't sit there chomping my food in a grotesque manner with my mouth open, but yes, I'm guilty of occasionally talking while some food is in my mouth. I'm not excusing my behavior, but I am down-playing the fact that I'm not in front of a tv camera doing so with thousands of people watching.
While getting ready for work this morning I had the tv turned on to WHAS for the morning news. One of the reporters was doing a live-shot from a local restaurant for an upcoming charity event. The chef had prepared some signature dishes and set them out. The reporter wanted to sample the food and said he'd do so while the restaurant's manager talked about the event, so the camera panned to the manager and cut the reporter out of the shot. I don't think he sampled it at that time, but instead waited 'til the camera was back on him, took a bite and then chewed and reported on the event at the same time. Needless to say, I was a bit grossed out!
I think it needs to be station policy, "no eating or even sampling while on the air".
I do believe I'm going to write the station a little note suggesting that.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Nosey People
A friend sent me this in an email and it made me smile. I guess it hit home for me because I've frequently been asked that same stupid question: Do you have a dog (while I'm purchasing dogfood). Enjoy...
This one is good enough to share....
The next time someone asks you a dumb question wouldn't you like to respond like this.....
Yesterday I was buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for Athena
the Wonder dog at Wal-Mart and was about to check out.
A woman be hindme asked if I had a dog. What did she think I had, an elephant? So since I'm retired, with little to do, on impulse, I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, and that I was starting the Purina Diet again. Although I probably shouldn't, because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.. I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was, by now,enthralled with my story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no; I stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter's butt and a car hit us both.
I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack; he was laughing so hard! WAL-MART won't let me shop there anymore.
This one is good enough to share....
The next time someone asks you a dumb question wouldn't you like to respond like this.....
Yesterday I was buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for Athena
the Wonder dog at Wal-Mart and was about to check out.
A woman be hindme asked if I had a dog. What did she think I had, an elephant? So since I'm retired, with little to do, on impulse, I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, and that I was starting the Purina Diet again. Although I probably shouldn't, because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.. I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was, by now,enthralled with my story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no; I stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter's butt and a car hit us both.
I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack; he was laughing so hard! WAL-MART won't let me shop there anymore.
Deja Vu
Don't know if I spelled that correctly (Deja vu), but regardless, I think you know what I'm trying to say.
I was surfing some other blog sites this morning, not any of the regulars on my follow-list, but some that I check from time to time. I read one person's blog and saw where someone had left a comment. I clicked on that person's name to go and check out their site. As I was scrolling down through the blogs, looking at pictures and reading bits and pieces, I saw a photo and thought to myself, "hmm, that picture looks awfully familiar"... I kept scrolling. The next photo, the same reaction... had I seen this blog site before and forgotten? The next photo, again. I then realized they were photos I'd taken a few months ago.
While I didn't mind that that person had used those photos on his site, the pix weren't of me, my family or my possessions, it was just a bit of a shock to see my photography (I use that term loosely) showing up on a perfect strangers blog-site.
I guess that's the risk we take, posting photos of anything (animal, vegetable or mineral) and posting them on-line or emailing to others... they become fair game for anybody else to use however they want.
I was surfing some other blog sites this morning, not any of the regulars on my follow-list, but some that I check from time to time. I read one person's blog and saw where someone had left a comment. I clicked on that person's name to go and check out their site. As I was scrolling down through the blogs, looking at pictures and reading bits and pieces, I saw a photo and thought to myself, "hmm, that picture looks awfully familiar"... I kept scrolling. The next photo, the same reaction... had I seen this blog site before and forgotten? The next photo, again. I then realized they were photos I'd taken a few months ago.
While I didn't mind that that person had used those photos on his site, the pix weren't of me, my family or my possessions, it was just a bit of a shock to see my photography (I use that term loosely) showing up on a perfect strangers blog-site.
I guess that's the risk we take, posting photos of anything (animal, vegetable or mineral) and posting them on-line or emailing to others... they become fair game for anybody else to use however they want.
The Roof, before & after
We got the new roof put on our house this week.
The roofer stopped by the house Saturday evening to bring me some shingle samples so that I could pick out the color I wanted. He asked if it was okay if they started mid-week, I told him that was fine.
Monday afternoon, my neighbor called me at work to say they were dropping off supplies at my house. As I was driving home, the roofer (Shawn) called to tell me they'd be starting the next day, and that they'd be by the house that evening.
I went out Monday evening to get some before shots...
The backside of the house, while it was the side with the missing shingles (only 2 in the upper left hand corner), it didn't look nearly as bad as the front did...
My friend/neighbor took these pix during the day of the busy little workers...
By the time they left Tuesday evening, the roof was almost finished, not much left to shingle.
The roofer stopped by the house Saturday evening to bring me some shingle samples so that I could pick out the color I wanted. He asked if it was okay if they started mid-week, I told him that was fine.
Monday afternoon, my neighbor called me at work to say they were dropping off supplies at my house. As I was driving home, the roofer (Shawn) called to tell me they'd be starting the next day, and that they'd be by the house that evening.
I went out Monday evening to get some before shots...
The backside of the house, while it was the side with the missing shingles (only 2 in the upper left hand corner), it didn't look nearly as bad as the front did...
The front of the house had those nasty stains on it that just looked awful. One of our neighbors had the stains pressure-washed from her roof, twice in one summer a couple of years ago, but the stains have already re-appeared on her roof. Glad we didn't waste the money having that done.
I didn't think the workers would show up 'til well after I'd left for work on Tuesday, so imagine my surprise when they pulled up in front of the house at 7:45 that morning.
My friend/neighbor took these pix during the day of the busy little workers...
When I arrived home Tuesday evening, the backside of the house was already completed, and they were just finishing up removing the old shingles & tar paper from the front.
By the time they left Tuesday evening, the roof was almost finished, not much left to shingle.
They didn't arrive quite so early on Wednesday, but they finished shingling and the roof was completely covered by the end of the day. The only thing left to do was trim the shingles that were hanging over the edge, replace the vents, clean up their mess, get the dumpster out of the way and leave.
When I arrived home Thursday evening, aside from the 3 boards lying beside the driveway that the dumpster had been sitting on, you could hardly tell anyone had been there. They did a pretty good job of cleaning up after themselves. I only found a very few nails, small pieces of shingles and a few cigarette butts lying around. Compared to how I've seen other workers leave sites before, I was pleased.
(Notice the dead grass to the left of the driveway... that's Olivia's pee-pee place, hence the dead grass).
So this is our new roof. Quarry gray. It's a darker shade of gray than what we had on previously, and it has tiny, light blue flocking to it.
Shawn (Kelly) had already replaced at least 4 other homeowners' roofs (rooves?) in our neighborhood, all but one of those before Ike blew through town. They were all happy with his work, and I'll add my name to that list.
Nice job Shawn!
DO OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let me tell you about 12 hours in the life of Pita. This is one of those VERY loooonnnnggg blogs, so brace yourself.
12 hours of my life I'd like to have back to do over, or at the very least, block from my memory as ever having happened...
As the husband has been out of town this week, I've stayed up a little later than my usual 9:30 bedtime, sometimes even being as daring as to stay up 'til 10pm, or, gasp!!, 11pm!!!!
About 8 o'clock last night, I settled into the recliner to work on my quilt and listen to whatever was on tv. After flipping through the channels, I determined there was NOTHING on that I was interested in. The tv's built-in dvd player had been acting up all week, so I decided to try the old-fashioned gizmo, the vcr. I popped in a tape, it would start to play, then immediately stop & turn the machine off. I tried it several times with the same result. I decided there must be something wrong with the tape so I tried a different movie with the same results. Great, not only is the dvd player messed up, but now the vcr won't work either. Grrrr! So I gave the dvd player one more chance to work. Well, my final chance to work turned into the tv nearly blowing up. The set made a very weird grinding noise and I jumped up from the recliner, waiting for smoke and sparks to start coming from the entertainment center. Bootsy also was spooked by the tv's noises and she jumped from the futon and danced around anxiously before running for cover in the dog-crate. Eliott remained on the futon, Olivia remained in the other recliner, oblivious to what was going on. No smoke or sparks erupted from the set, but to be on the safe side, I unplugged every electrical item that was on the entertainment center. I could go on to bed and turn the tv on in there, but I wanted to remain in the living room near my babies, enjoying their sleeping presence. I fetched the portable dvd-player and popped in "Serial Mom" and listened to it while I worked on a large patch of my quilt.
10pm came and I finally called it a night. Took the dogs out one last time, cleaned up my mess, turned out the lights and headed to bed, taking my sewing with me. After I'd finished brushing my teeth, I noticed that the sink was draining a bit slow so I decided to pour come Crystal Drano down the pipes. I dumped the remaining contents of the can onto the drain, but very little of it actually went down, instead most of it mounded up around the drain. I ran some water onto it to knock it down the drain, but the water caused the immediate reaction it was supposed to. However, since the chemical was topside instead of down the drain, all the bubbling and fizzing came straight up, rising like a cloud. I reached to turn the faucet on and try to rinse it down, but the chemical cloud felt very warm on my arm and I jerked my hand back and ran for the kitchen to get a large cup of water. By the time I go it all rinsed down, the whole time I was standing there with my shirt's neckline pulled up over my mouth and nose, the vapors in the bathroom were becoming overwhelming. I escaped to the bedroom and wondered if I'd have chemical burns on my arm or die in my sleep from the fumes I'd inhaled. As the night progressed, that turned out to be the least of my worries.
I was getting close to finishing up that large patch and was anxious to get it done. I readied for bed and propped myself up on pillows, turned the tv on to watch "Snapped" and finished working on my piece...
**side note here.... looking back, I notice a theme to the items I watched last night. "Serial Mom" is about a homicidal wife/mother that just gets fed up with others bad behavior and rids society of those offenders, and "Snapped" is about women that just lose it and kill someone, usually their spouse, but sometimes other people as well.
I finished sewing my piece right at 11pm. I was feeling quite exuberant, my shoulders were up, my chest swelled with pride, and then I held up the quilt to examine my handi-work and my shoulders slumped, my stomach did a flip, and I wanted to cry. The piece I'd sewn on had a pocket on it, and I'd sewn the patch on upside down. FILTH-FLARN-FILTH as Bill Cosby would say. To hell with it, I wasn't going to deal with it then. I sat it all aside, turned out the light and tried to go to sleep.
11:08 I heard a loud thump as one of the dogs hit the wall and a clanging noise as one (or more) of them hit the dog crate. A commotion was taking place in the other room, and at first I thought one of the cats had slipped out into the dogs sanctuary and stirred them up. The wall thumping continued and I was getting ready to yell at the cat to get back to the bedroom and leave the dogs alone, but something made me get up and go inspect the situation. Even though there was thumping and banging going on, I wasn't hearing the usual growling and barking that the dogs usually do when the cats invade their space. I flipped on the overhead light as I stepped into the room and my heart felt as if it had lurched up out of my chest. Olivia was having one of her epileptic seizures.
The other two times she's had them (that we know of), she's always been lying in the floor, stiff as a board, panting hard and totally unaware that we're present. This was the earliest I had ever come upon her and what I saw happening was enough to stop any mother's beating heart. My baby was lying on her side, on the futon, twitching and convulsing, panting hard and foaming at the mouth. Bootsy was being her usual frantic self, and kept trying to nip at Olivia. I like to think Bootsy is "trying to help" her sissy, but I could only yell at Bootsy to stay out of the way. She wasn't inclined to obey me, and my screams at her became louder and angrier. Eliott meanwhile just stood nearby watching, clueless. He looked like I felt. All I could do for Olivia was keep stroking her side, her neck, and try to get her collar off, keeping my hands away from her mouth. While the seizure seemed to last an eternity, I'm sure in reality it only lasted a minute or so. The thrashing finally ceased and she laid there stiff as a board, still panting hard and seemingly oblivious to my presence. Just as suddenly as it all starts, it stops. Her panting stopped and she suddenly lifted her head up and was looking around, but the wild-eyed look in her eyes was that of a dog very frightened, confused and lost. Finally Olivia stood up, shook herself off and everything returned to normal, somewhat. I wiped the foam from her face and took her out to potty, barefoot and not really caring that roofers had just put a roof on my house and I was running a risk of stepping on a nail.
By the time I took her back inside, B&E had settled in on the futon. Olivia still seemed a bit dazed and I wanted her by my side, so I hustled her into the bedroom so she could sleep next to me. However, she wouldn't settle down and kept getting into everything, and seemed quite intent on ignoring my efforts to get her to lie down. I finally gave up and sent her back to the living room and put her in her crate to spend the night. I hated doing it, but I wanted her to be somewhat confined in case she had another seizure. It took her a good 20 minutes to finally settle down and go to sleep. I laid in bed, listening to her turn in circles and constantly readjust her position in the crate. It was well after midnight before I finally fell asleep.
With John gone this week, the dogs have been doing very well in not waking me up 'til nearly 5:30 each morning. Only 1 time did they wake me at 4:30. However, this morning, with only about 3 hours of sleep in me, they decided that they needed to return to their normal routine of going out at 3:30 in the morning. I let them all out and it was just starting to sprinkle before the big rain of the day started. Now I was glad they'd woke me up when they did. I left Olivia out of the crate this time and went back to bed.
When the alarm finally went of at 6:20, I didn't bound out of bed with my usual enthusiasm, but just laid there for a moment, trying to convince myself that it had all been a bad dream. I finally drug my arse from bed, straightened the covers and went to feed the dogs.
After I had finished getting ready for work, it was now about 7:30, and raining steadily. As the backyard was now a soupy, muddy mess, I wanted to take each dog out front on a leash to avoid tracking in as much mud as possible. I grabbed a big golf umbrella and took Olivia out first. She peed next to the driveway in her usual spot, then we walked around the corner to the side yard where she likes to poop. On the way to the poop-zone, I noticed that the roofer's sign had fallen over that he'd placed in our yard. After Olivia had finished her business, we headed back to the house. Olivia had noticed the fallen sign as well and stepped out into the yard to inspect it. As long as I was stopped there, I decided I'd stand the sign back up. I stepped in the yard and erected the sign. I took a step backwards toward the sidewalk and in doing so, turned my ankle, lost my balance and fell onto the wet pavement, dropping the umbrella and the dog's leash.
In the split second all this was happening to me, umpteen thoughts ran through my mind.
The fact that I was getting wet was the least of my worries. The pain that shot through my ankle and hand weren't even my main worries either. My worry, trying to get a hold of Olivia's leash before she took off for some random reason. I no sooner had that thought run through my head than the roofer's sign fell over again, hitting Olivia and startling her. But for once, fortune was on my side and she didn't run, merely danced around a bit and despite the many aches and pains I was feeling, I was able to force myself up off the ground and reclaim my end of the leash. I picked up the umbrella and limped back to the house. To hell with the carpet getting muddy, I let the other dogs out back one at a time to do their business. It was while I stood there letting them in/out that I noticed a pile of dog vomit a few feet away. Either Olivia or Eliott had thrown up (Bootsy eats a different food, so I could tell it wasn't hers). Great! What else was going to happen today????
After both dogs had pottied and I'd wiped the rain off their backs, I hobbled to the bedroom to change my clothes. Fortunately, my clothes from the waist up were still dry. My pants and underwear were soaking wet. Dig through the closet, find something to wear. Take off the shoes and examine the now bum ankle. My right thumb and wrist were hurting by now, and as the morning has progressed, my low back, no, make that my whole back, shoulders, neck, knees, darned near every part of my body is hurting.
I grabbed the jacket I'd worn the day before and neglected to hang up, instead having hung it on the back of the chair, and discovered a really long, dried snail-trail-looking mark, a dried dog loogey, compliments of Eliott, all over the sleeve. Dammit!!!!! I threw the jacket in the dirty clothes and found another in the closet and stomped out of the house, wondering if I'd make it to work without any mishaps.
I'm delighted to report that I did arrive safely. I still hurt all over but popped 4 ibuprofen to try and help ward off the aches.
I'd just like to have those 12 hours of my life to DO OVER!!!!
12 hours of my life I'd like to have back to do over, or at the very least, block from my memory as ever having happened...
As the husband has been out of town this week, I've stayed up a little later than my usual 9:30 bedtime, sometimes even being as daring as to stay up 'til 10pm, or, gasp!!, 11pm!!!!
About 8 o'clock last night, I settled into the recliner to work on my quilt and listen to whatever was on tv. After flipping through the channels, I determined there was NOTHING on that I was interested in. The tv's built-in dvd player had been acting up all week, so I decided to try the old-fashioned gizmo, the vcr. I popped in a tape, it would start to play, then immediately stop & turn the machine off. I tried it several times with the same result. I decided there must be something wrong with the tape so I tried a different movie with the same results. Great, not only is the dvd player messed up, but now the vcr won't work either. Grrrr! So I gave the dvd player one more chance to work. Well, my final chance to work turned into the tv nearly blowing up. The set made a very weird grinding noise and I jumped up from the recliner, waiting for smoke and sparks to start coming from the entertainment center. Bootsy also was spooked by the tv's noises and she jumped from the futon and danced around anxiously before running for cover in the dog-crate. Eliott remained on the futon, Olivia remained in the other recliner, oblivious to what was going on. No smoke or sparks erupted from the set, but to be on the safe side, I unplugged every electrical item that was on the entertainment center. I could go on to bed and turn the tv on in there, but I wanted to remain in the living room near my babies, enjoying their sleeping presence. I fetched the portable dvd-player and popped in "Serial Mom" and listened to it while I worked on a large patch of my quilt.
10pm came and I finally called it a night. Took the dogs out one last time, cleaned up my mess, turned out the lights and headed to bed, taking my sewing with me. After I'd finished brushing my teeth, I noticed that the sink was draining a bit slow so I decided to pour come Crystal Drano down the pipes. I dumped the remaining contents of the can onto the drain, but very little of it actually went down, instead most of it mounded up around the drain. I ran some water onto it to knock it down the drain, but the water caused the immediate reaction it was supposed to. However, since the chemical was topside instead of down the drain, all the bubbling and fizzing came straight up, rising like a cloud. I reached to turn the faucet on and try to rinse it down, but the chemical cloud felt very warm on my arm and I jerked my hand back and ran for the kitchen to get a large cup of water. By the time I go it all rinsed down, the whole time I was standing there with my shirt's neckline pulled up over my mouth and nose, the vapors in the bathroom were becoming overwhelming. I escaped to the bedroom and wondered if I'd have chemical burns on my arm or die in my sleep from the fumes I'd inhaled. As the night progressed, that turned out to be the least of my worries.
I was getting close to finishing up that large patch and was anxious to get it done. I readied for bed and propped myself up on pillows, turned the tv on to watch "Snapped" and finished working on my piece...
**side note here.... looking back, I notice a theme to the items I watched last night. "Serial Mom" is about a homicidal wife/mother that just gets fed up with others bad behavior and rids society of those offenders, and "Snapped" is about women that just lose it and kill someone, usually their spouse, but sometimes other people as well.
I finished sewing my piece right at 11pm. I was feeling quite exuberant, my shoulders were up, my chest swelled with pride, and then I held up the quilt to examine my handi-work and my shoulders slumped, my stomach did a flip, and I wanted to cry. The piece I'd sewn on had a pocket on it, and I'd sewn the patch on upside down. FILTH-FLARN-FILTH as Bill Cosby would say. To hell with it, I wasn't going to deal with it then. I sat it all aside, turned out the light and tried to go to sleep.
11:08 I heard a loud thump as one of the dogs hit the wall and a clanging noise as one (or more) of them hit the dog crate. A commotion was taking place in the other room, and at first I thought one of the cats had slipped out into the dogs sanctuary and stirred them up. The wall thumping continued and I was getting ready to yell at the cat to get back to the bedroom and leave the dogs alone, but something made me get up and go inspect the situation. Even though there was thumping and banging going on, I wasn't hearing the usual growling and barking that the dogs usually do when the cats invade their space. I flipped on the overhead light as I stepped into the room and my heart felt as if it had lurched up out of my chest. Olivia was having one of her epileptic seizures.
The other two times she's had them (that we know of), she's always been lying in the floor, stiff as a board, panting hard and totally unaware that we're present. This was the earliest I had ever come upon her and what I saw happening was enough to stop any mother's beating heart. My baby was lying on her side, on the futon, twitching and convulsing, panting hard and foaming at the mouth. Bootsy was being her usual frantic self, and kept trying to nip at Olivia. I like to think Bootsy is "trying to help" her sissy, but I could only yell at Bootsy to stay out of the way. She wasn't inclined to obey me, and my screams at her became louder and angrier. Eliott meanwhile just stood nearby watching, clueless. He looked like I felt. All I could do for Olivia was keep stroking her side, her neck, and try to get her collar off, keeping my hands away from her mouth. While the seizure seemed to last an eternity, I'm sure in reality it only lasted a minute or so. The thrashing finally ceased and she laid there stiff as a board, still panting hard and seemingly oblivious to my presence. Just as suddenly as it all starts, it stops. Her panting stopped and she suddenly lifted her head up and was looking around, but the wild-eyed look in her eyes was that of a dog very frightened, confused and lost. Finally Olivia stood up, shook herself off and everything returned to normal, somewhat. I wiped the foam from her face and took her out to potty, barefoot and not really caring that roofers had just put a roof on my house and I was running a risk of stepping on a nail.
By the time I took her back inside, B&E had settled in on the futon. Olivia still seemed a bit dazed and I wanted her by my side, so I hustled her into the bedroom so she could sleep next to me. However, she wouldn't settle down and kept getting into everything, and seemed quite intent on ignoring my efforts to get her to lie down. I finally gave up and sent her back to the living room and put her in her crate to spend the night. I hated doing it, but I wanted her to be somewhat confined in case she had another seizure. It took her a good 20 minutes to finally settle down and go to sleep. I laid in bed, listening to her turn in circles and constantly readjust her position in the crate. It was well after midnight before I finally fell asleep.
With John gone this week, the dogs have been doing very well in not waking me up 'til nearly 5:30 each morning. Only 1 time did they wake me at 4:30. However, this morning, with only about 3 hours of sleep in me, they decided that they needed to return to their normal routine of going out at 3:30 in the morning. I let them all out and it was just starting to sprinkle before the big rain of the day started. Now I was glad they'd woke me up when they did. I left Olivia out of the crate this time and went back to bed.
When the alarm finally went of at 6:20, I didn't bound out of bed with my usual enthusiasm, but just laid there for a moment, trying to convince myself that it had all been a bad dream. I finally drug my arse from bed, straightened the covers and went to feed the dogs.
After I had finished getting ready for work, it was now about 7:30, and raining steadily. As the backyard was now a soupy, muddy mess, I wanted to take each dog out front on a leash to avoid tracking in as much mud as possible. I grabbed a big golf umbrella and took Olivia out first. She peed next to the driveway in her usual spot, then we walked around the corner to the side yard where she likes to poop. On the way to the poop-zone, I noticed that the roofer's sign had fallen over that he'd placed in our yard. After Olivia had finished her business, we headed back to the house. Olivia had noticed the fallen sign as well and stepped out into the yard to inspect it. As long as I was stopped there, I decided I'd stand the sign back up. I stepped in the yard and erected the sign. I took a step backwards toward the sidewalk and in doing so, turned my ankle, lost my balance and fell onto the wet pavement, dropping the umbrella and the dog's leash.
In the split second all this was happening to me, umpteen thoughts ran through my mind.
The fact that I was getting wet was the least of my worries. The pain that shot through my ankle and hand weren't even my main worries either. My worry, trying to get a hold of Olivia's leash before she took off for some random reason. I no sooner had that thought run through my head than the roofer's sign fell over again, hitting Olivia and startling her. But for once, fortune was on my side and she didn't run, merely danced around a bit and despite the many aches and pains I was feeling, I was able to force myself up off the ground and reclaim my end of the leash. I picked up the umbrella and limped back to the house. To hell with the carpet getting muddy, I let the other dogs out back one at a time to do their business. It was while I stood there letting them in/out that I noticed a pile of dog vomit a few feet away. Either Olivia or Eliott had thrown up (Bootsy eats a different food, so I could tell it wasn't hers). Great! What else was going to happen today????
After both dogs had pottied and I'd wiped the rain off their backs, I hobbled to the bedroom to change my clothes. Fortunately, my clothes from the waist up were still dry. My pants and underwear were soaking wet. Dig through the closet, find something to wear. Take off the shoes and examine the now bum ankle. My right thumb and wrist were hurting by now, and as the morning has progressed, my low back, no, make that my whole back, shoulders, neck, knees, darned near every part of my body is hurting.
I grabbed the jacket I'd worn the day before and neglected to hang up, instead having hung it on the back of the chair, and discovered a really long, dried snail-trail-looking mark, a dried dog loogey, compliments of Eliott, all over the sleeve. Dammit!!!!! I threw the jacket in the dirty clothes and found another in the closet and stomped out of the house, wondering if I'd make it to work without any mishaps.
I'm delighted to report that I did arrive safely. I still hurt all over but popped 4 ibuprofen to try and help ward off the aches.
I'd just like to have those 12 hours of my life to DO OVER!!!!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Judge and jury
I met someone yesterday in person for the first time, totally unaware that I already knew this person, sort of.
I'd spoken to this person on the phone in the past a few times very briefly, and only knew a small bit of this person's background. I'd heard things, and heard others opinions of the woman. But as I said, since I was unaware of who she actually was when I met her face to face, all the stuff I knew or had heard meant nothing to me. As far as I knew, this person was a complete stranger to me.
I took an instant dislike to her. Well, maybe that's being a bit harsh, I shouldn't say that. I'm trying very hard not to be judgemental, with emphasis on trying.
In all honesty, for reasons totally unbeknownst to me, my first impression of this person was "backstabber". This person gave me an uneasy feeling and I just felt like there was something about this person that couldn't be trusted. I don't know why, but backstabber just kept popping into my mind.
So today I was talking to someone about having met this person, and as we talked, I started connecting dots and realized that in a manner of speaking, I already knew this person, or at least, knew of them. I then recalled one of the things I'd heard somebody say about this person several months ago, and the phrase they had used to describe her was... you guessed it... backstabber.
I can't help but wonder if my initial feelings and impression of this woman are accurate, or if somehow my subconscious just remembered what others had said about her and perhaps my subconscious realized I did sorta know her already.
I just don't know what to think. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, but needless to say, I'm watching my back.
For now, the jury is still out on this situation.
I'd spoken to this person on the phone in the past a few times very briefly, and only knew a small bit of this person's background. I'd heard things, and heard others opinions of the woman. But as I said, since I was unaware of who she actually was when I met her face to face, all the stuff I knew or had heard meant nothing to me. As far as I knew, this person was a complete stranger to me.
I took an instant dislike to her. Well, maybe that's being a bit harsh, I shouldn't say that. I'm trying very hard not to be judgemental, with emphasis on trying.
In all honesty, for reasons totally unbeknownst to me, my first impression of this person was "backstabber". This person gave me an uneasy feeling and I just felt like there was something about this person that couldn't be trusted. I don't know why, but backstabber just kept popping into my mind.
So today I was talking to someone about having met this person, and as we talked, I started connecting dots and realized that in a manner of speaking, I already knew this person, or at least, knew of them. I then recalled one of the things I'd heard somebody say about this person several months ago, and the phrase they had used to describe her was... you guessed it... backstabber.
I can't help but wonder if my initial feelings and impression of this woman are accurate, or if somehow my subconscious just remembered what others had said about her and perhaps my subconscious realized I did sorta know her already.
I just don't know what to think. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, but needless to say, I'm watching my back.
For now, the jury is still out on this situation.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
My "vacation" from my husband
I'm on a working-vacation, away from my husband. He's spending his vacation with the old-folks, I'm spending mine enjoying being able to sleep with the windows wide-open even thought the overnight temps have at times dipped down into the low 40's... if he were home he'd be whining about how cold (or sick) he was. So I'll just enjoy it while I can, and for now, I'm sleeping smack dab in the middle of the bed.
When the spouse (or housemate) isn't around for an extended amount of time, you suddenly become aware of and appreciate the little things they normally do. For instance, the cat-litter box. That typically falls under the husband's chores. As I was walking past the bathroom the other day, I thought to myself, "Whew!, that litter box needs to be scooped out... oh, darn, guess I'll have to do it since John isn't here." **sigh** I literally had to enter a reminder to myself and set the alarm in my cellphone's datebook to remind me to set the trash out tonight for pick-up tomorrow. Actually, with him being gone on trash day, this does give me the opportunity to throw some things away that he'd normally be digging back out of the trash or at the very least, pitching a fit about me throwing away. But I'm guessing if he doesn't see it get hauled away, he'll never miss it.
We're getting a new roof put on our house, courtesy of Hurricane Ike having blown through town a few weeks ago. The roofer called yesterday and asked if they could start today (tuesday). I said that was fine (mind you, my neighbor had already called me earlier in the day to tell me they were dropping bundles of shingles off at my house), so he said he'd stop by that evening to drop some things off. They showed up just as the sun was setting so they could carry the bundles up to the roof. Before leaving, Shawn (our roofer) said they'd probably start around noon tomorrow. Again, I said that was fine. So imagine my surprise when they pulled up at 7:45 this morning! Good grief!! I asked him, "Don't you ever sleep?" He gets up early, he works late... he is one of the workingest, busiest men I've met.
I took some before pix, so I'll post them along with the during/after pix later in the week.
A little side note...
I sat around the office waiting for the auditor to show up yesterday (had a 1pm appointment), but as usual, he didn't arrive or even call. Grrrrr!!!!
He finally came today, and I passed my audit with 100%. Do I get a gold star? Sometimes life is good around here!!
When the spouse (or housemate) isn't around for an extended amount of time, you suddenly become aware of and appreciate the little things they normally do. For instance, the cat-litter box. That typically falls under the husband's chores. As I was walking past the bathroom the other day, I thought to myself, "Whew!, that litter box needs to be scooped out... oh, darn, guess I'll have to do it since John isn't here." **sigh** I literally had to enter a reminder to myself and set the alarm in my cellphone's datebook to remind me to set the trash out tonight for pick-up tomorrow. Actually, with him being gone on trash day, this does give me the opportunity to throw some things away that he'd normally be digging back out of the trash or at the very least, pitching a fit about me throwing away. But I'm guessing if he doesn't see it get hauled away, he'll never miss it.
We're getting a new roof put on our house, courtesy of Hurricane Ike having blown through town a few weeks ago. The roofer called yesterday and asked if they could start today (tuesday). I said that was fine (mind you, my neighbor had already called me earlier in the day to tell me they were dropping bundles of shingles off at my house), so he said he'd stop by that evening to drop some things off. They showed up just as the sun was setting so they could carry the bundles up to the roof. Before leaving, Shawn (our roofer) said they'd probably start around noon tomorrow. Again, I said that was fine. So imagine my surprise when they pulled up at 7:45 this morning! Good grief!! I asked him, "Don't you ever sleep?" He gets up early, he works late... he is one of the workingest, busiest men I've met.
I took some before pix, so I'll post them along with the during/after pix later in the week.
A little side note...
I sat around the office waiting for the auditor to show up yesterday (had a 1pm appointment), but as usual, he didn't arrive or even call. Grrrrr!!!!
He finally came today, and I passed my audit with 100%. Do I get a gold star? Sometimes life is good around here!!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Tipping is going to break the bank
Holy Moly! I know I've blogged about tipping before, but here I go again.
I just read an article on the do's/don't's of tipping, what's acceptable, what's not.
Unless we just got really bad service, I always thought we were being fairly generous, or if not generous, at least not being stingy. But now I'm not so sure.
I know we're not supposed to tip on sales-tax... something I have a hard time getting through my husband's head, but 18% as a minimum? Gimme a break!
Read the article below, then I'll continue my grumbling afterwards...
Dear BA Foodist,
Can you set me straight on tipping? I was once told that 20 percent is for great service, 15 percent for bad. Unless a waiter's gone overboard, I'm an 18 percenter, but I was recently accused of being stingy. Am I wrong, or wasn't 10 percent considered fair not too long ago? Give me a tip I can use. --TIPPER G., Albuquerque
Dear Tipper G.,
Ah, the great tipping conundrum. You are not alone. At a meal's end, I often find myself staring at the blank lines of a credit-card receipt, concerned that the effects of too much wine and food will impair my basic algebra skills. (That's what a spouse is for: making sure it all adds up correctly.) Still, I think I can help.
The Foodist waited tables many years ago at a small, well-regarded spot in Brooklyn. (Incidentally, one evening he waited on a major food critic who later gave the restaurant a one-star review. The critic liked the food but described the service as "friendly but very slow and fumbling." Oh, well: If you can't serve 'em, join 'em.) Waiting tables is a job everyone should be forced to do at least once, if only to learn that it's not okay to snap your fingers when you want something, and also to find out what it's like to eke out a living on tips.
It's disappointing to receive anything less than 20 percent of the total bill. Most waiters at today's better restaurants expect that much for average service, and even more if they do it with a smile. So unless you're planning never to go to the same restaurant twice, the days of 10 percent tips--and even 15 percent tips--are long gone.
The BA Foodist's Tipping Rules
RULE NO. 1: Unless the server is rude, condescending, and/or completely absent, tip between 18 and 20 percent.
RULE NO. 2: Never tip on tax. Tip based on the subtotal. And if you're calculating your tip simply by doubling the tax, stop it--you're being cheap.
RULE NO. 3: Unless you drink like Dean Martin or have a taste for expensive wines (i.e., $40 or more, depending on your budget), it's best to include booze when calculating a tip. Bartenders expect a dollar tip per drink (which is usually about 20 percent of the drink's price), and it's no different with waiters.
RULE NO. 4: Never turn a blind eye when others are tipping--especially if they're unfamiliar with our tipping culture (i.e., Europeans). If you think your tablemate is lowballing the service, it's best to hand the waiter a few bills on the way out.
RULE NO. 5: If a few dollars here and there really matter that much to your bank account, perhaps you shouldn't be going out to eat in the first place.
Okay, so if 18-20% is what's expected, then why do they just tack on 15% to parties of 8 or more instead of the higher percentage?
I thought Rule #5 was a bit rude. Some people don't eat out often, perhaps only on special occasions, and perhaps those few dollars do make a difference, but everybody is entitled to go out and celebrate from time to time, right?
Alright, so let me ask you, if you call in (or walk in) to a restaurant for a carry-out order, are you supposed to tip (whoever), simply for having answered the phone and writing down an order? They don't deliver the food to you or follow up during your meal to see if everything is okay or if there is anything you need, they don't refill drinks, bread or condiments, etc. etc. So how 'bout it, do you tip?
I have to tell you about a recent experience we had. There's a restaurant near our house called Stoney River, a bit more upscale than we ever eat, and not a place we normally choose to dine
at, the couple of times we've been there in the past, we weren't impressed. But we had a gift-card that had a $43 balance on it. I knew both of us couldn't eat there for that amount, so I stopped there one evening and ordered two steaks and plain baked potatoes to go. The game plan was to take them home and eat them w/a salad or other veggies and beverages. I felt that would save us some money and finish off the card. I ordered two of the 2nd cheapest steaks they had, and the bill came to 60-some-odd dollars. I 'bout crapped. I hate to think what the bill would've been if I'd ordered a more expensive steak.
I got the meal home and we sat down to dine. Needless to say, we were both VERY disappointed. While the meat (what little there was) had a good flavor, it was mostly fat and gristle and uneadible. Made me wonder if this was the crap they reserved for carry-out customers. I hadn't tipped the bartender for the carry-out order, and after that unsatisfying meal, I was glad I hadn't. Granted, I know it wasn't his fault, but honestly, he really didn't have anything to do with it, so why should I have tipped him say $12 for a crappy meal when all he did was write down what I wanted?
Any thoughts on the subject?
I just read an article on the do's/don't's of tipping, what's acceptable, what's not.
Unless we just got really bad service, I always thought we were being fairly generous, or if not generous, at least not being stingy. But now I'm not so sure.
I know we're not supposed to tip on sales-tax... something I have a hard time getting through my husband's head, but 18% as a minimum? Gimme a break!
Read the article below, then I'll continue my grumbling afterwards...
Dear BA Foodist,
Can you set me straight on tipping? I was once told that 20 percent is for great service, 15 percent for bad. Unless a waiter's gone overboard, I'm an 18 percenter, but I was recently accused of being stingy. Am I wrong, or wasn't 10 percent considered fair not too long ago? Give me a tip I can use. --TIPPER G., Albuquerque
Dear Tipper G.,
Ah, the great tipping conundrum. You are not alone. At a meal's end, I often find myself staring at the blank lines of a credit-card receipt, concerned that the effects of too much wine and food will impair my basic algebra skills. (That's what a spouse is for: making sure it all adds up correctly.) Still, I think I can help.
The Foodist waited tables many years ago at a small, well-regarded spot in Brooklyn. (Incidentally, one evening he waited on a major food critic who later gave the restaurant a one-star review. The critic liked the food but described the service as "friendly but very slow and fumbling." Oh, well: If you can't serve 'em, join 'em.) Waiting tables is a job everyone should be forced to do at least once, if only to learn that it's not okay to snap your fingers when you want something, and also to find out what it's like to eke out a living on tips.
It's disappointing to receive anything less than 20 percent of the total bill. Most waiters at today's better restaurants expect that much for average service, and even more if they do it with a smile. So unless you're planning never to go to the same restaurant twice, the days of 10 percent tips--and even 15 percent tips--are long gone.
The BA Foodist's Tipping Rules
RULE NO. 1: Unless the server is rude, condescending, and/or completely absent, tip between 18 and 20 percent.
RULE NO. 2: Never tip on tax. Tip based on the subtotal. And if you're calculating your tip simply by doubling the tax, stop it--you're being cheap.
RULE NO. 3: Unless you drink like Dean Martin or have a taste for expensive wines (i.e., $40 or more, depending on your budget), it's best to include booze when calculating a tip. Bartenders expect a dollar tip per drink (which is usually about 20 percent of the drink's price), and it's no different with waiters.
RULE NO. 4: Never turn a blind eye when others are tipping--especially if they're unfamiliar with our tipping culture (i.e., Europeans). If you think your tablemate is lowballing the service, it's best to hand the waiter a few bills on the way out.
RULE NO. 5: If a few dollars here and there really matter that much to your bank account, perhaps you shouldn't be going out to eat in the first place.
Okay, so if 18-20% is what's expected, then why do they just tack on 15% to parties of 8 or more instead of the higher percentage?
I thought Rule #5 was a bit rude. Some people don't eat out often, perhaps only on special occasions, and perhaps those few dollars do make a difference, but everybody is entitled to go out and celebrate from time to time, right?
Alright, so let me ask you, if you call in (or walk in) to a restaurant for a carry-out order, are you supposed to tip (whoever), simply for having answered the phone and writing down an order? They don't deliver the food to you or follow up during your meal to see if everything is okay or if there is anything you need, they don't refill drinks, bread or condiments, etc. etc. So how 'bout it, do you tip?
I have to tell you about a recent experience we had. There's a restaurant near our house called Stoney River, a bit more upscale than we ever eat, and not a place we normally choose to dine
at, the couple of times we've been there in the past, we weren't impressed. But we had a gift-card that had a $43 balance on it. I knew both of us couldn't eat there for that amount, so I stopped there one evening and ordered two steaks and plain baked potatoes to go. The game plan was to take them home and eat them w/a salad or other veggies and beverages. I felt that would save us some money and finish off the card. I ordered two of the 2nd cheapest steaks they had, and the bill came to 60-some-odd dollars. I 'bout crapped. I hate to think what the bill would've been if I'd ordered a more expensive steak.
I got the meal home and we sat down to dine. Needless to say, we were both VERY disappointed. While the meat (what little there was) had a good flavor, it was mostly fat and gristle and uneadible. Made me wonder if this was the crap they reserved for carry-out customers. I hadn't tipped the bartender for the carry-out order, and after that unsatisfying meal, I was glad I hadn't. Granted, I know it wasn't his fault, but honestly, he really didn't have anything to do with it, so why should I have tipped him say $12 for a crappy meal when all he did was write down what I wanted?
Any thoughts on the subject?
Nuttin' but danes!
I spent three evenings last week caring for G's dogs while she spent her evenings at the dogshow.
As promised, here are some pix of the "kids", both young and old...
The three remaining puppies from Bella's litter, they are now 4 months old. The harle-male competed in his first dogshow this past week. Came away empty handed, but on to bigger and better things!
As promised, here are some pix of the "kids", both young and old...
The three remaining puppies from Bella's litter, they are now 4 months old. The harle-male competed in his first dogshow this past week. Came away empty handed, but on to bigger and better things!
This is Maddie
And this is Dreamer. You may recall from my doggy-sitting experience last month we went through several days of her absolutely HATING me!! Well, things started off that way again this week, unless I had food on my hands, then she'd get brave enough to come close. But I think I finally got things figured out, I do believe she's afraid of my size, rather, my height. Whenever I'm standing or walking around her, she growls, wimpers and whines like she's terrified. But as soon as I sit down in a chair or on the floor, she's all over me. Go figure!
In case you've forgotten how small they start out, click on this link to take you back to my post from when they were a week old, and see how much they've grown in 4 months time... http://pitawoman.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-arrivals.html
13+ yr. old Desiree, still going strong. She keeps her girlish figure by storing all her fat in her fatty-tumor.
Sorry, didn't mean to catch Bella copping a squat.
Candy found her stuffed-duck out in the lawn and wouldn't give it up.
Corey, daddy to both of my girls and Bella.
Grant in the foreground, his momma Sara in the background
And this is Bella, looking like her sleek ol' self only 4 months after giving birth.
Great Dane dog show
The Nationals Dog Show was in town this past week. It's only contestants in the show were Great Danes. It was THE Great Dane Show for the year. Approx. 1000 dogs/puppies were entered.
Great Danes of every size, color and coat-pattern imaginable!
This is Grant (recent champion), looking all cool & relaxed before going into the ring.
Lot's of fawns! That black one at the front blends in w/the handlers clothing.
A brindle at the front of the line... one of the few mantles (third from the right) that I saw at the show, and Grant, 2nd from the right.
Grant being center of attention...
I threw this one in just for you Abbey. The bronze statue you showed on your site, for the pocket change price of $25,000 **choking**, was on sale at the dog show for the reduced price of $18,000. Quite a bargain, eh?
I came away from the show with a new addition to our family... brace yourselves.....
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They were giving away some of events decorations and I snatched up this wooden cut-out that resembled our Bootsy...
I think Bootsy is just relieved that I didn't dress her up in a clown outfit to make the resemblance stronger.
Quilting: Week 2 update
Week 2 progress report... I forgot to spread my squares on the lawn for a photo yesterday, so I had to make do with spreading it across the bed this morning. It actually gave me a better indication of how much I'd accomplished and how much I had left to do...
The bottow two rows need to be attached to the rest of the quilt...
And the light-blue solid areas you see in the upper-left area need to be filled in with flannel...
But all in all, I think it's coming along nicely. I've only had to rip three patches apart and re-do (one patch I had to re-do twice!).
I arrived home Saturday to find a pile of flannel cast-offs that a neighbor had donated, and while I was out walking Olivia, another neighbor stopped me and handed me some old flannel. Too, I went to another Goodwill store yesterday and came away with more items. While I have enough to finish this quilt, I'm always looking for variety, and when this quilt is done, I do believe I'll make another, so the quest for flannel continues!
Thanks to everyone that has donated!! Hopefully by the time I'm done with it, you'll see your contribution somewhere in the finished project. :)
The bottow two rows need to be attached to the rest of the quilt...
And the light-blue solid areas you see in the upper-left area need to be filled in with flannel...
But all in all, I think it's coming along nicely. I've only had to rip three patches apart and re-do (one patch I had to re-do twice!).
I arrived home Saturday to find a pile of flannel cast-offs that a neighbor had donated, and while I was out walking Olivia, another neighbor stopped me and handed me some old flannel. Too, I went to another Goodwill store yesterday and came away with more items. While I have enough to finish this quilt, I'm always looking for variety, and when this quilt is done, I do believe I'll make another, so the quest for flannel continues!
Thanks to everyone that has donated!! Hopefully by the time I'm done with it, you'll see your contribution somewhere in the finished project. :)
Friday, October 17, 2008
Crockpot challenge
Day 8) Oct. 16th - My own creation... a cross between Tortilla Soup & White Chili. I used black beans as I didn't have any white(navy) beans. It was a bit warm (spicy), but it was good, especially topped with sour cream and cheese.
Day 9) Oct. 17th - Okay, I actually tossed these items into the crockpot on the 16th, but we had it for breakfast this morning. It was a breakfast casserole (egg strata). Aside from needing salt and being a bit over-cooked around the edges (because that particular slowcooker isn't as slow as it's name implies), it was good.
As the husband is going to be gone for the next week, I'll resume my challenge on 10/25. I don't see any point in fixing big meals for just myself.
Day 9) Oct. 17th - Okay, I actually tossed these items into the crockpot on the 16th, but we had it for breakfast this morning. It was a breakfast casserole (egg strata). Aside from needing salt and being a bit over-cooked around the edges (because that particular slowcooker isn't as slow as it's name implies), it was good.
As the husband is going to be gone for the next week, I'll resume my challenge on 10/25. I don't see any point in fixing big meals for just myself.
Why women do the packing
As my husband is leaving town this evening when he gets off work, I strongly suggested (more than once) that he get his bags packed last night, for two reasons: 1) to save time on Friday, 2) in case there was something he needed washed, there'd be time to get it done before leaving. And I'll throw in a third reason... because men can't be trusted to pack for themselves.
When he finally set to the task last night, I heard him crashing around in the spare bedroom looking for the luggage. He finally emerged toting a small overnight case... mind you, he's going to be gone for 7 nights.
My eyes bulged from their sockets as the argument began:
Me: That won't be big enough honey.
Hubby: Yes it will, I'll make it fit.
Me: No, it won't. That won't even be big enough for your underwear and socks (I'm assuming he has plans to change both each day he's gone).
Hubby: Just chill. It will be fine. We're taking dad's car and there will be three peoples luggage, so I can't take up much room.
First of all, his dad's car has a surprisingly roomy trunk. Second of all, as there are only three people going in that car, that means not only do they have trunk space, but space in the back seat next to that third passenger to put some stuff. His argument was flimsy at best.
If he was going to manage to cram 7 days worth of clothing into that small bag, I had visions of the clothing having more wrinkles than a piece of balled up tin-foil. I left him alone to do his own packing.
A couple of minutes later he emerged from the bedroom, headed back down the hallway. I just smirked, as I knew I'd won that argument. A moment later he comes back with our largest suitcase, which isn't much smaller than a steamer trunk. Okay, now that was a bit overboard!
Me: honey, why not use the red/gray suitcases?
Hubby: I couldn't find them
Me: (to myself... did you try looking for them?) to the hubby: they are in the closet.
I went directly to the closet and pulled them out, two suitcases, a medium and a large, but not too large suitcase.
He managed to fill both with the clothes he was taking. Um, yeah, and he truly thought he could stuff all that in an overnight case?
This is why women always do the packing.
When he finally set to the task last night, I heard him crashing around in the spare bedroom looking for the luggage. He finally emerged toting a small overnight case... mind you, he's going to be gone for 7 nights.
My eyes bulged from their sockets as the argument began:
Me: That won't be big enough honey.
Hubby: Yes it will, I'll make it fit.
Me: No, it won't. That won't even be big enough for your underwear and socks (I'm assuming he has plans to change both each day he's gone).
Hubby: Just chill. It will be fine. We're taking dad's car and there will be three peoples luggage, so I can't take up much room.
First of all, his dad's car has a surprisingly roomy trunk. Second of all, as there are only three people going in that car, that means not only do they have trunk space, but space in the back seat next to that third passenger to put some stuff. His argument was flimsy at best.
If he was going to manage to cram 7 days worth of clothing into that small bag, I had visions of the clothing having more wrinkles than a piece of balled up tin-foil. I left him alone to do his own packing.
A couple of minutes later he emerged from the bedroom, headed back down the hallway. I just smirked, as I knew I'd won that argument. A moment later he comes back with our largest suitcase, which isn't much smaller than a steamer trunk. Okay, now that was a bit overboard!
Me: honey, why not use the red/gray suitcases?
Hubby: I couldn't find them
Me: (to myself... did you try looking for them?) to the hubby: they are in the closet.
I went directly to the closet and pulled them out, two suitcases, a medium and a large, but not too large suitcase.
He managed to fill both with the clothes he was taking. Um, yeah, and he truly thought he could stuff all that in an overnight case?
This is why women always do the packing.
Friday photo challenge - Music
Okay, I admit it, I was listening to Ricky Nelson on my drive into work today.
If anybody else is interested in posting pix for the weekly photo challenge, here is the list for the upcoming weeks:
This week (October 17): Music
Friday 24 October: Bad
Friday 31 October: Irreplaceable
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Random things
*I went to Walmart's site and did a search for "electric scissors". Several items came up "matching" my query, and I use the term "matching" VERY loosely.
The first item was a fireplace. Second item was a bicycle, third a scooter... obviously electric scissors were no were on the list of matching items. What part of "electric scissors" do they not understand?
*I did a more general search of just "scissors".
While I did finally find what I was looking for (under "power scissors"), I totally had to laugh at one of the items that was listed. A book titled: The Rock, Paper, Scissors Strategy Guide. List price $9.55.
Are you kidding me?
Once I'd found the power scissors, made by Black & Decker, I decided to search some other stores to compare prices. Walmart was by far the most inexpensive place I found. Only drawback is they're only available on-line. I hate that.
*I ventured to Turners Station KY last night to care for a kennel of Great Danes. I barely remembered to take a change of clothes, which translates into: I forgot to take my camera. The puppies are getting so big, and so inquisitive! I've got to go back out thursday & friday, hopefully I'll remember to take my camera.
*My lower back, which had been doing soooo much better after years of pain, well, since returning from vacation it seems to have steadily started to decline again. Some days are better than others, but occasionally I'll make a move that will nearly take my breath away (not in a good way either). This really bums me out. I really don't want to do epidurals again. I don't want surgery, I don't want to return to chiropractic/p.t. weekly if not daily again. I just want to feel normal.
*I think I mentioned yesterday that my husband is getting ready to go out of town for a week. Allow me to elaborate: His dad, aunts & uncles (and spouses) all get together at least once a year and stay in a couple of condos. They are all starting to get up there in years now, they range in age from about 76 to 88. The two that live out of state are driving in, one lives in the area they're going to visit and will meet them there, the remaining two here locally can't or won't drove that far. That's where my husband comes in... his dad's paying his way if he'll be their chauffeur and drive them around. That means one whole week without my hubby. It's not the first time we've vacationed apart. Sometimes it's good to get away from one another, no matter how much wedded bliss there is. So his week of vacation will be like a week of vacation for me as well... no 2:30, 3:30 or 4:30 am alarm clocks going off (worse case is that the animals will wake me up to go out and potty, then I can go right back to sleep). No lunch to pack for him, no breakfast to prepare. Cooking for only myself should be easy enough. Fewer dishes to wash. 1/2 as much laundry. And I can either sprawl across the bed by myself or cuddle with a dog at night. I love my husband, but I'm actually looking forward to this vacation of his. ;)
*Lastly, what I'd really like to do right now is go through Al Boreland's closet.
In case that one has you scratching your head...
Remember the side-kick on Tool-Time/Home Improvement? He always wore flannel. I'd love to get hold of some of his flannel shirts for my quilt. :)
The first item was a fireplace. Second item was a bicycle, third a scooter... obviously electric scissors were no were on the list of matching items. What part of "electric scissors" do they not understand?
*I did a more general search of just "scissors".
While I did finally find what I was looking for (under "power scissors"), I totally had to laugh at one of the items that was listed. A book titled: The Rock, Paper, Scissors Strategy Guide. List price $9.55.
Are you kidding me?
Once I'd found the power scissors, made by Black & Decker, I decided to search some other stores to compare prices. Walmart was by far the most inexpensive place I found. Only drawback is they're only available on-line. I hate that.
*I ventured to Turners Station KY last night to care for a kennel of Great Danes. I barely remembered to take a change of clothes, which translates into: I forgot to take my camera. The puppies are getting so big, and so inquisitive! I've got to go back out thursday & friday, hopefully I'll remember to take my camera.
*My lower back, which had been doing soooo much better after years of pain, well, since returning from vacation it seems to have steadily started to decline again. Some days are better than others, but occasionally I'll make a move that will nearly take my breath away (not in a good way either). This really bums me out. I really don't want to do epidurals again. I don't want surgery, I don't want to return to chiropractic/p.t. weekly if not daily again. I just want to feel normal.
*I think I mentioned yesterday that my husband is getting ready to go out of town for a week. Allow me to elaborate: His dad, aunts & uncles (and spouses) all get together at least once a year and stay in a couple of condos. They are all starting to get up there in years now, they range in age from about 76 to 88. The two that live out of state are driving in, one lives in the area they're going to visit and will meet them there, the remaining two here locally can't or won't drove that far. That's where my husband comes in... his dad's paying his way if he'll be their chauffeur and drive them around. That means one whole week without my hubby. It's not the first time we've vacationed apart. Sometimes it's good to get away from one another, no matter how much wedded bliss there is. So his week of vacation will be like a week of vacation for me as well... no 2:30, 3:30 or 4:30 am alarm clocks going off (worse case is that the animals will wake me up to go out and potty, then I can go right back to sleep). No lunch to pack for him, no breakfast to prepare. Cooking for only myself should be easy enough. Fewer dishes to wash. 1/2 as much laundry. And I can either sprawl across the bed by myself or cuddle with a dog at night. I love my husband, but I'm actually looking forward to this vacation of his. ;)
*Lastly, what I'd really like to do right now is go through Al Boreland's closet.
In case that one has you scratching your head...
Remember the side-kick on Tool-Time/Home Improvement? He always wore flannel. I'd love to get hold of some of his flannel shirts for my quilt. :)
Rants and Confessions of a junky
I don't think it's any secret, I'm a Law & Order junky. Especially the S.V.U. series. I did after all name two of my beloved danes after the two lead characters, Eliott & Olivia.
Now that Chris Noth is gone from L&O:CI, I don't know if I'll be as dedicated to watching that series. He was the draw for me. But I suppose I'll give Jeff Goldblum a chance to prove himself in his new role. As for the original series, I haven't been as devoted to the show since Jerry Orbach left (and subsequently died shortly after leaving the show). I tend to catch most of the original L&Os when they go into re-runs on the TNT channel. Now that det. Ed Green is gone as well, it's going to be even harder for me. And all the changes in the d.a.'s office! I just haven't cared for any of the women they've had since Angie Harmon left.
But back to SVU... I was somewhat disappointed with last night's show. There seemed to be such a lack of input from any of the other characters and I just didn't care for the focus being solely on Staebler's family troubles. The show is supposed to be about special victims. Hello, that's what svu stands for. I didn't consider his daughter to be a special victim. She's mentally ill. She committed a crime. She isn't a victim.
Other confessions...
I've stated before I'm not a big fan of reality tv. And the "contest" shows of today aren't anything at all like the game shows I grew up watching. I'm not really sure how some of these shows are defined, such as "The Biggest Loser"... is it a reality show? is it a game show? After all, there are some high-stakes there.
I'm not a loyal watcher of the show, and only watched one season in it's entirety before... I don't remember what the draw was that lured me in that time, but I started watching it again this season, which has family teams, whether spouses or parent/child. Perhaps it's because of my own weight struggles that I watch the show, cheering them all on and being completely amazed over their progress each week. I could do without all the drama of watching their work-outs and crying on their trainer's shoulders. I just like to see the weigh-in and the vote-off.
This is my biggest confession...
I can honestly say I've NEVER been a fan of Dancing w/the Stars and had never watched more than 5 minutes of it in the past. But, as the show is aired on ABC, our local news and GMA each week would keep me updated (whether I wanted to know or not) as to who was booted off and who was leading the score board. When they announced this seasons stars and I heard Cloris Leachman (I've always liked her) was to be on the show I thought it would be a hoot to watch one time & see how she did. Needless to say, she's still in the running and now I'm hooked. While I have no illusions of her staying in much longer, I'm totally hooked & rooting on Warren Sapp.
Since DWTS and the Biggest Loser are on at the same time Tuesday nights, I have to flip back & forth between the two. Of course all I need are the last 5 minutes of DWTS so I can find out who got the boot.
Okay, there it is, my confessions.
Now that Chris Noth is gone from L&O:CI, I don't know if I'll be as dedicated to watching that series. He was the draw for me. But I suppose I'll give Jeff Goldblum a chance to prove himself in his new role. As for the original series, I haven't been as devoted to the show since Jerry Orbach left (and subsequently died shortly after leaving the show). I tend to catch most of the original L&Os when they go into re-runs on the TNT channel. Now that det. Ed Green is gone as well, it's going to be even harder for me. And all the changes in the d.a.'s office! I just haven't cared for any of the women they've had since Angie Harmon left.
But back to SVU... I was somewhat disappointed with last night's show. There seemed to be such a lack of input from any of the other characters and I just didn't care for the focus being solely on Staebler's family troubles. The show is supposed to be about special victims. Hello, that's what svu stands for. I didn't consider his daughter to be a special victim. She's mentally ill. She committed a crime. She isn't a victim.
Other confessions...
I've stated before I'm not a big fan of reality tv. And the "contest" shows of today aren't anything at all like the game shows I grew up watching. I'm not really sure how some of these shows are defined, such as "The Biggest Loser"... is it a reality show? is it a game show? After all, there are some high-stakes there.
I'm not a loyal watcher of the show, and only watched one season in it's entirety before... I don't remember what the draw was that lured me in that time, but I started watching it again this season, which has family teams, whether spouses or parent/child. Perhaps it's because of my own weight struggles that I watch the show, cheering them all on and being completely amazed over their progress each week. I could do without all the drama of watching their work-outs and crying on their trainer's shoulders. I just like to see the weigh-in and the vote-off.
This is my biggest confession...
I can honestly say I've NEVER been a fan of Dancing w/the Stars and had never watched more than 5 minutes of it in the past. But, as the show is aired on ABC, our local news and GMA each week would keep me updated (whether I wanted to know or not) as to who was booted off and who was leading the score board. When they announced this seasons stars and I heard Cloris Leachman (I've always liked her) was to be on the show I thought it would be a hoot to watch one time & see how she did. Needless to say, she's still in the running and now I'm hooked. While I have no illusions of her staying in much longer, I'm totally hooked & rooting on Warren Sapp.
Since DWTS and the Biggest Loser are on at the same time Tuesday nights, I have to flip back & forth between the two. Of course all I need are the last 5 minutes of DWTS so I can find out who got the boot.
Okay, there it is, my confessions.
Crockpot challenge
Day 6) Oct. 14th - used a small crockette to make a potato sidedish so we could have it with the left-over tenderloin. But it seems to have been a wasted effort as the husband ate at the firehouse last night & I didn't get home 'til late, so I stopped at Rally's on the way. Oh well, it will keep for a few days.
Day 7) Oct. 15th - 4-potato soup... made from Idaho baking 'taters, Yukon golds, reds and sweet 'taters. I don't know how it will taste, but at least it will be colorful.
Day 7) Oct. 15th - 4-potato soup... made from Idaho baking 'taters, Yukon golds, reds and sweet 'taters. I don't know how it will taste, but at least it will be colorful.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Bah-humbug!
Halloween is fast approaching. Normally one of my favorite holidays. In years past, we've put out all sorts of decorations. Nothing outrageous or scary, just cutesy-stuff and a lot of lights. But not so this year. I'm just having a hard time getting into the spirit of things. We were gone the first week of the month, my husband's getting ready to leave on Friday and be gone for another week, last week & this week just seem too hectic with the different things we've got going on. By the time he returns from this upcoming trip there will be 1 week 'til Halloween, and by then, what would be the point?
Also in years past, we've set the outdoor fireplace up and sat around that to hand out candy. Many of the neighbors bring their bowls of candy and join us, making it 1-stop shopping for the trick-or-treaters.
The husband and I were talking last night about whether or not we would again light the fire. I was against it after what had happened last year, but he'd somehow forgotten, so I had to remind him of the rude group that came through, helping themselves to our food we'd grilled out (uninvited, just helped themselves), then left a bunch of garbage strewn about on our lawn and sidewalk, children and parents alike. It left such a bad taste in my mouth, I really don't want a repeat this year. One child in particular I had to resist the urge to backhand when she smarted off to me when I asked her to get out of the seat I'd vacated temporarily.
I think the husband and I have come to a bit of a compromise... we'll light the fire and sit out by it, but not cook any food or have anything setting out (including extra chairs). With no place to sit, maybe they'll keep moving this year.
I hate to be that way, but I just don't have the patience or energy to deal with other people's crap.
Also in years past, we've set the outdoor fireplace up and sat around that to hand out candy. Many of the neighbors bring their bowls of candy and join us, making it 1-stop shopping for the trick-or-treaters.
The husband and I were talking last night about whether or not we would again light the fire. I was against it after what had happened last year, but he'd somehow forgotten, so I had to remind him of the rude group that came through, helping themselves to our food we'd grilled out (uninvited, just helped themselves), then left a bunch of garbage strewn about on our lawn and sidewalk, children and parents alike. It left such a bad taste in my mouth, I really don't want a repeat this year. One child in particular I had to resist the urge to backhand when she smarted off to me when I asked her to get out of the seat I'd vacated temporarily.
I think the husband and I have come to a bit of a compromise... we'll light the fire and sit out by it, but not cook any food or have anything setting out (including extra chairs). With no place to sit, maybe they'll keep moving this year.
I hate to be that way, but I just don't have the patience or energy to deal with other people's crap.
Short stuff
This blog may offend some people. Let me just start off by saying, that's not my intent. I was originally going to blog about short auto mechanics, and then I decided to add this song to it as well...
I've come to the conclusion that all auto mechanics must be short, and by short I mean shorter than my own 5'11" frame. I can't think of one single time that I've ever had my car worked on and then returned to me when the driver's seat wasn't moved waaaay up. Sometimes it's moved so far forward I can't even squeeze in behind the wheel. I have to move the seat back before I can even get into the car.... it's not that there isn't room for my gut & butt to squeeze between the steering wheel & seat, it's that there's no room for my long legs to fit under the dash!
Okay, maybe it's unfair to say that ALL mechanics must be short, but I honestly think that they have the shortest person on their staff drive my car off the rack and back onto the parking lot before handing over the keys.
I've nothing against short people. My closest friends are short people. If it weren't for short people, we tall people wouldn't seem so tall. In some areas, I envy short people... oh sure, they complain they have a hard time finding clothes to fit, but I guarantee we tall ones have a harder time... it's easier to hem pants/skirts up then it is to walk around in high-waters.
Oh well, with that, I leave you with this hit song by Randy Newman, titled "Short People"...
When this song was released back in the 70's, I believe it was a local dj Bill Bailey (and I may be mistaken on that fact) recorded a spoof of the Short People song called "Tall People". I looked for it on Youtube but couldn't find it. If anyone remembers it or has a link to it, lemme know.
I've come to the conclusion that all auto mechanics must be short, and by short I mean shorter than my own 5'11" frame. I can't think of one single time that I've ever had my car worked on and then returned to me when the driver's seat wasn't moved waaaay up. Sometimes it's moved so far forward I can't even squeeze in behind the wheel. I have to move the seat back before I can even get into the car.... it's not that there isn't room for my gut & butt to squeeze between the steering wheel & seat, it's that there's no room for my long legs to fit under the dash!
Okay, maybe it's unfair to say that ALL mechanics must be short, but I honestly think that they have the shortest person on their staff drive my car off the rack and back onto the parking lot before handing over the keys.
I've nothing against short people. My closest friends are short people. If it weren't for short people, we tall people wouldn't seem so tall. In some areas, I envy short people... oh sure, they complain they have a hard time finding clothes to fit, but I guarantee we tall ones have a harder time... it's easier to hem pants/skirts up then it is to walk around in high-waters.
Oh well, with that, I leave you with this hit song by Randy Newman, titled "Short People"...
When this song was released back in the 70's, I believe it was a local dj Bill Bailey (and I may be mistaken on that fact) recorded a spoof of the Short People song called "Tall People". I looked for it on Youtube but couldn't find it. If anyone remembers it or has a link to it, lemme know.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Crock-pot challenge
I read somewhere recently about a woman that was challenging herself to use her crockpot (slowcooker) for 365 days to prepare her family's meals.
It's no secret, I'm a crockpot freak. At last count I believe I'm up to 9 slowcookers in varying sizes and shapes, and 1 roaster oven.
While I have no intention to try and use mine for 365 days straight, (I'd go crazy trying!), I have decided to challenge myslef and see how many meals I can make in 30 days, without duplicating.
My challenge started last week, Thursday to be exact. I'm giving myself until Nov. 8th to see how many different things I can fix.
Here's what I've managed thus far...
Day 1) Oct. 9th - vegetable beef soup
Day 2) Oct. 10th - sorry, this night was a combination of home cooked steamed veggies and (bad) steaks from Stony River (never again!).
Day 3) Oct. 11th - pork tenderloin
Day 4) Oct. 12th - beef stroganoff
Day 5) Oct. 13th - need to eat some of the left-overs from the other crock-pot meals...
As we experienced a bit of a heat-wave over the weekend and it's still going on, that put the halt on soups for a few days 'til the weather cools down again. I'll have to see what else I can come up with for tomorrow night...
It's no secret, I'm a crockpot freak. At last count I believe I'm up to 9 slowcookers in varying sizes and shapes, and 1 roaster oven.
While I have no intention to try and use mine for 365 days straight, (I'd go crazy trying!), I have decided to challenge myslef and see how many meals I can make in 30 days, without duplicating.
My challenge started last week, Thursday to be exact. I'm giving myself until Nov. 8th to see how many different things I can fix.
Here's what I've managed thus far...
Day 1) Oct. 9th - vegetable beef soup
Day 2) Oct. 10th - sorry, this night was a combination of home cooked steamed veggies and (bad) steaks from Stony River (never again!).
Day 3) Oct. 11th - pork tenderloin
Day 4) Oct. 12th - beef stroganoff
Day 5) Oct. 13th - need to eat some of the left-overs from the other crock-pot meals...
As we experienced a bit of a heat-wave over the weekend and it's still going on, that put the halt on soups for a few days 'til the weather cools down again. I'll have to see what else I can come up with for tomorrow night...
Weekend in review
Aside from shopping for flannel and quilting, I did manage to get a few other things accomplished. Got my monthly allergy shot... the way my sinus' have been acting lately, it wasn't a moment too soon either. Got the oil changed and tires rotated on my car... 'twas time for that 30,000 mile check-up.
We worked on getting that green sludge removed from the pool yesterday evening. Didn't quite get it all out, as the water level dropped down too low, so we had to stop and fill 'er up again. Maybe this evening...
And of course there was my weekly pilgrimage to the Luci Ctr. The farm's director wasn't going to be there with me yesterday, so she arranged for some other volunteers to come in and assist me. While in the past I've given horses their meds, in pill form, I've never had to administer the banimine(sp?) or the eye meds. Fortunately, one of my helpers did the banimine and I took care of putting the salve in the eyes of two of the horses... it's not nearly as easy to do as the director has made it look when I've watched her. **sigh**
After we'd grain-fed and medicated, but before turning out, I was going from stall to stall to fill water buckets. Something I've done EVERY time I've been there, something I do MANY times on each visit. Amazing how much water horses consume! Whenever I have to enter a horses stall, regardless of which horse it is or the reason for entering, I always talk in soothing &/or happy tones, usually calling the horse by name. I walk in easily, not stomping my way in. If the horse has it's back or side to me, I doubly make sure the horse knows I'm there, so I don't startle it. If the horse is facing me when I enter, I enter with one hand held out to stroke the horse. So as I carried a bucket of fresh water into Thunder's stall, he stood facing the doorway. I knew he was ready to be turned out, but we were a few minutes away from being to that point. I opened his door, just wide enough for me to slip in, bucket in my left hand, I reached out with my right to stroke his neck as I prepared to step past him. Quicker than I could blink, he reached out and bit my left arm. The s.o.b.!! I yelled, partially from pain, partially from surprise and quickly stepped back out into the aisle, slamming his door shut. "We'll have none of THAT mister! You can just do without water for all I care!"
WTH??
I finished watering the other horses. As there were only two of us there at that point and I wasn't sure she could handle walking the two other ponies out together if I took Thunder, I made the decision he'd go out last... consider it a bit of "time out" to cool his heels and think about what he'd done. We led the other two ponies out, but right as the other girl's pony hit the doorway, he decided instead of heading to the right where his pasture was located, he wanted to go left and go quickly. He hadn't spooked, he simply had a mind of his own and he pushed past her walking faster than her short legs could keep up. The lead rope was quickly being pulled from her hands. I had visions of the spotted pony running free on the farm with us chasing him. Why did this have to happen when the director wasn't around???? I breathed a sigh of relief as she managed to get hold of the lead rope as the very end started to pass through her fingers. She held on and finally got him stopped and headed in the right direction. We turned our boys out and headed back to get Thunder. I cringed inwardly as I heard him pitching a fit in his stall. Could I handle him? Would he behave? After what had just happened with her and her normally very docile pony, I didn't want to subject her to Thunder's possible temper-tantrum. I sighed and told her I'd lead him out of she'd get the gate. He was less than cooperative and it took several attempts to get his halter on him. He attempted a few more nips on my arm, but I kept a very wary eye on him and dodged the bites. Once haltered, he walked out beautifully. Coming back in later that morning wasn't quite as smooth, but at least nothing major happened.
One of the mares was being kept in the stables as she had an infection in her eye. This horse, Miss Ellie, always suffers such horrible separation anxiety whenever separated from the other mares, even if another mare is sent along to keep her company. She just wants to be part of the whole herd. While she was being surprising calm in the stables, once I'd turned her out into the round pen for a while, she started acting her usual anxious self. Standing and staring towards the general direction her herd was at, calling to them. After about 90 minutes, I finally took her back in and decided to try something with her besides locking her back in her stall. I took her to the indoor arena and walked her around for 15 minutes at a fast walk. Ellie is a saddle-bred, and a very pretty mare. At first, every time we passed a doorway she'd turn her head, looking somewhat anxiously, but finally settled into our walk. Anytime I said, "whoa", she did exactly that and stopped, even the one time I said it accidentally. After I returned her to her stall, she seemed a bit more relaxed, so I hope the exercise did her some good, not just physically.
Today my arm has a faint purple bruise on it. It feels worse than it looks. I guess compared to the last time I got bit, which was through clothing and looked a lot worse, this one wasn't so bad. Just the fact it was bare skin and caught me so off guard made it seem worse at the time.
Another weekend come and gone.
We worked on getting that green sludge removed from the pool yesterday evening. Didn't quite get it all out, as the water level dropped down too low, so we had to stop and fill 'er up again. Maybe this evening...
And of course there was my weekly pilgrimage to the Luci Ctr. The farm's director wasn't going to be there with me yesterday, so she arranged for some other volunteers to come in and assist me. While in the past I've given horses their meds, in pill form, I've never had to administer the banimine(sp?) or the eye meds. Fortunately, one of my helpers did the banimine and I took care of putting the salve in the eyes of two of the horses... it's not nearly as easy to do as the director has made it look when I've watched her. **sigh**
After we'd grain-fed and medicated, but before turning out, I was going from stall to stall to fill water buckets. Something I've done EVERY time I've been there, something I do MANY times on each visit. Amazing how much water horses consume! Whenever I have to enter a horses stall, regardless of which horse it is or the reason for entering, I always talk in soothing &/or happy tones, usually calling the horse by name. I walk in easily, not stomping my way in. If the horse has it's back or side to me, I doubly make sure the horse knows I'm there, so I don't startle it. If the horse is facing me when I enter, I enter with one hand held out to stroke the horse. So as I carried a bucket of fresh water into Thunder's stall, he stood facing the doorway. I knew he was ready to be turned out, but we were a few minutes away from being to that point. I opened his door, just wide enough for me to slip in, bucket in my left hand, I reached out with my right to stroke his neck as I prepared to step past him. Quicker than I could blink, he reached out and bit my left arm. The s.o.b.!! I yelled, partially from pain, partially from surprise and quickly stepped back out into the aisle, slamming his door shut. "We'll have none of THAT mister! You can just do without water for all I care!"
WTH??
I finished watering the other horses. As there were only two of us there at that point and I wasn't sure she could handle walking the two other ponies out together if I took Thunder, I made the decision he'd go out last... consider it a bit of "time out" to cool his heels and think about what he'd done. We led the other two ponies out, but right as the other girl's pony hit the doorway, he decided instead of heading to the right where his pasture was located, he wanted to go left and go quickly. He hadn't spooked, he simply had a mind of his own and he pushed past her walking faster than her short legs could keep up. The lead rope was quickly being pulled from her hands. I had visions of the spotted pony running free on the farm with us chasing him. Why did this have to happen when the director wasn't around???? I breathed a sigh of relief as she managed to get hold of the lead rope as the very end started to pass through her fingers. She held on and finally got him stopped and headed in the right direction. We turned our boys out and headed back to get Thunder. I cringed inwardly as I heard him pitching a fit in his stall. Could I handle him? Would he behave? After what had just happened with her and her normally very docile pony, I didn't want to subject her to Thunder's possible temper-tantrum. I sighed and told her I'd lead him out of she'd get the gate. He was less than cooperative and it took several attempts to get his halter on him. He attempted a few more nips on my arm, but I kept a very wary eye on him and dodged the bites. Once haltered, he walked out beautifully. Coming back in later that morning wasn't quite as smooth, but at least nothing major happened.
One of the mares was being kept in the stables as she had an infection in her eye. This horse, Miss Ellie, always suffers such horrible separation anxiety whenever separated from the other mares, even if another mare is sent along to keep her company. She just wants to be part of the whole herd. While she was being surprising calm in the stables, once I'd turned her out into the round pen for a while, she started acting her usual anxious self. Standing and staring towards the general direction her herd was at, calling to them. After about 90 minutes, I finally took her back in and decided to try something with her besides locking her back in her stall. I took her to the indoor arena and walked her around for 15 minutes at a fast walk. Ellie is a saddle-bred, and a very pretty mare. At first, every time we passed a doorway she'd turn her head, looking somewhat anxiously, but finally settled into our walk. Anytime I said, "whoa", she did exactly that and stopped, even the one time I said it accidentally. After I returned her to her stall, she seemed a bit more relaxed, so I hope the exercise did her some good, not just physically.
Today my arm has a faint purple bruise on it. It feels worse than it looks. I guess compared to the last time I got bit, which was through clothing and looked a lot worse, this one wasn't so bad. Just the fact it was bare skin and caught me so off guard made it seem worse at the time.
Another weekend come and gone.
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