Friday, July 31, 2009

This & that

*The weather has been very fickle of late in our area. It's been the coolest July on record, with the high temps only reaching into the 70's & 80's instead of the typical 90's. And we've had so much rain! July is normally a rather dry month for us, but I haven't watered the lawn once, and only watered the vegetable garden a few times earlier in the month. I'm not complaining mind you, but I can't help but wonder if we're going to now have a really horrible autumn or winter. Regardless, it's hard to argue about global warming with such cool temps in our area.

*I was bent over Olivia last evening, wiping her down when she suddenly raised her head up, smashing into my chin which caused my mouth to slam shut very hard, and causing me to bite my tongue very hard in the process. The pain was indescribable!! I couldn't speak, couldn't yell, couldn't really breath. I just stood there with a startled and I'm sure, horrified, expression on my face, my mouth open, my tongue sticking out, as I waited for the swirling stars in my head to disappear. The whole experience gave a new meaning to the phrase "bone jarring" or "teeth rattling". I was sure I had bitten off the end of my tongue as I could taste the blood in my mouth. Once I'd finally regained some of my senses, I ran for the kitchen sink and spit blood, then turned on the cold water and stuck my tongue into it. My husband kept asking what was wrong, but I couldn't speak, I could only stick my tongue out at him. I finally went and looked in a mirror and discovered I now had what bore a faint resemblance to a forked-tongue. Of course, the split in my tongue wasn't at the tip, but off to the right, but a definite split was there. I had a headache the rest of the evening, not a horribly painful one, but one of an odd sensation from where my teeth had slammed together so hard. This morning the headache is gone and teeth feel normal, but my tongue is still sore and still red and purple. But at least I'm able to eat/drink without too much pain.

*Livvie had her 3rd session with Emma last night. As the rain was coming down off and on, Emma held the class in her basement. A different environment for Olivia, but then, different environments are what she needs to get used to. She did pretty well until Emma's husband walked in to the room. Had he entered and then just stood there and allowed Liv the chance to check him out, things would've probably been fine. But he immediately raised his hand up in the air in a sudden movement that startled Olivia. She started growling and her hackles rose up. I yanked her back, grabbed her muzzle, looked her in the eye and shook my head no. She didn't try to go after him, but she didn't take her eye off him after that either, and for the most part kept her distance from him.
We've discussed it and have pretty much come to the conclusion that she probably won't do well in situations where there are children, at least, not younger children. Children tend to have quick and sudden movements, which Livvie doesn't like, not to mention the fact that children tend not to listen to you when you give them advice on how to approach/pet the dog, and also, children tend to approach in packs. If it were one at a time, it wouldn't be so bad, but they tend to gang-up on Olivia at times and she doesn't like that.
On the plus side, Emma walked around the room with a walker and Olivia wasn't phased by that at all. And we were teaching her a new trick, to "Bow down". So yesterdays session had it's ups and downs. While I'm still hopeful she'll become a therapy-pet, I'm also aware that if she doesn't get past her fear of sudden movements, that it may not become a reality. But at least I can say we tried and gave it out best shot.

*Tonight we're going to a baseball game with some friends. I hope the rain holds off. Granted, our seats are undercover, but I hate that the players have to play in crummy weather.

*Saturday morning Liv and I have a 4-miler event, taking place at the ballpark.
*Saturday evening I'm working a booth at the Shelby Co. Horse Show for the farm. I have a feeling I'll be wading through mud to get from the field where we park, over to the booth. I hope it isn't as humid and miserable as last year.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Meet John

Last night we rode again. Each time better than the time before. You would think after four weeks of this, my own endurance would have improved by now. But the heat and humidity can zap the strength out of anyone. I rode John harder last night than ever before. I kept him going for the full hour and when we were through, his chest was starting to lather. Some of the other participants and observers commented on how well I was keeping him going, as John tends to get lazy and want to stop.
I'm enjoying my weekly ride on John immensely. I just wish my knees would stop aching so horribly after I dismount.

I decided it was about time you met John. After our little trists, three out of the past four weeks, you probably feel you know him rather intimately.



He was more interested in eating than allowing me to halter him.



Saddled up and ready to go.


After our ride.


So now you've met the other John in my life. :)

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Heart stopping

I hate bad news. Or even the idea of bad news. The sense of foreboding that comes just before the news is even worse.
It brings on feelings of depression and sadness, worry and anxiety. And that's just the emotional side of it. Then there's the physical side-effects of bad news, rapid heart beat, high blood pressure, nausea, just to name a few.

Last night, I called my friend/breeder to see if she'd made it home from her trip alright and to see how well her dog had shown. She had arrived home safely, but I could tell from her voice something wasn't right. I feared something had happened to her other male dog she'd also taken with her that had been in ill health and she didn't want me to have to deal with caring for him.
While he had taken a turn for the worse over the weekend, that wasn't the cause of her stress at that moment.
She hesitated and then asked me if I'd closed the sliding glass door to the dog kennel. I said "no, I left it open". She then said, "then they must've closed it".
My first thought was "they? Who were 'they'?" Then my heart lurched as my mind raced, had someone gone into the kennel and stolen one or more of the dogs? I was quickly starting to feel very sick in the pit of my stomach. My heart was pounding as I forced myself to ask "They who?" as I didn't want to hear the answer.
She told me who "they" were and I quickly breathed a sigh of relief as I recognized the names, but then quickly my relief disappeared as I realized what that meant. The shut door on a hot and humid day, the temperatures inside the kennel must've soared horribly high, and with several giant dogs panting away, it can quickly start to feel like a sauna. I said, "oh no! Heat stroke?"
At this point, I don't know which would've been worse, coming home to find someone had stolen your dogs, or finding a kennel full of dead dogs from heat stroke.
While all the dogs were alive, one in particular was suffering worse than the others. It's body temperature was quite elevated and she'd been applying cold compresses and doing everything she could to cool the dog off.
I emailed her this morning to check on the dogs' progress and hope there is no lasting effects from the heat exposure.
It just makes me sick to think what might have happened, especially since I was entrusted with their care, even though it happened after I'd already left for the morning, it still made me feel horrible. But I do know the door was open when I left as I could hear the music from the radio that stays on in the kennel, playing clearly as I loaded my car up with my belongings. I'd not have been able to hear it had the door been shut. As I told her, I even left it wide open on Saturday as the storms moved through.

This episode brought back bad memories of when I had Kelsey. I very nearly fried her inside of my car one summer day. I had taken her to a family reunion that was being held at a park. When we were ready to eat, I put her in the car and turned the a/c on full blast to keep her comfortable for the 10 minutes I needed to inhale a plate of food. But, for whatever stupid reason, I had turned the temperature knob over to heat and I nearly roasted my poor girl. Fortunately, she was only in there for a few minutes, but it still made me feel like the worse dog-mother in the world. It was a lesson learned about NEVER leaving a dog in a parked car, even if the engine is running (the a/c could always stop working, not just because it doesn't get turned on).

I just got a reply email confirming all the dogs are doing fine this morning. It's a huge weight off my shoulders.

In the garden...

Back in the spring, when the danger of frost had finally passed, the husband and I set about planting our garden, such as it is. We don't have much space for a vegetable garden, and in all honesty, aside from growing tomatoes and cucumbers once in the past, we've not had much luck with our other fruits and vegetables.
The birds/bugs always get my few strawberries before I do, and the one time I attempted squash it rotted where it was touching the ground, I've yet to ever see that first blueberry on my blueberry bush, and even though my peach tree is loaded with peaches for the 2nd year in a row, I've yet to ever harvest one. The peaches never get bigger than about 1 1/2" in diameter and remain hard as rocks. I don't know what I'm doing wrong there!
However, tomatoes we do very well. And despite the fact that my husband doesn't like them, we seem to plant more and more of them every year. We give away far more than we consume. Yes, I said we, as he'll eat them if I turn them into salsa or cook them and use in a stew or soup. Go figure!!
This year we have 18 tomato plants. About 1/2 dozen along the front of the fence, some well over 6' tall, the other dozen planted down the side of the fence... those we planted a bit later and they're not quite as tall yet, nor have I harvested anything off of them yet.

You may also notice some other veggies growing there amongst the 'maters. Yes, that big leafy plant is indeed another attempt to grow squash.


It has a couple of blooms on it, but no signs of squash as yet. It's hard to see the carrot tops in this picture, but they seem to be doing very well. Unfortunately, I've not seen any signs that any of the onions ever grew. :(

I was feeling froggy (another way of saying adventurous) when planning out this years garden. I decided to try my hand at some other edibles, nothing ventured nothing gained, right? I purchased seed (yes, I said seed... that's REALLY getting brave on my part) for onions, carrots, green beans and corn.
My husband insisted I was wasting my time planting corn as it wouldn't grow in such a small area. Again I said, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I was willing to try and if it didn't grow, I was only out $1.49 in seed. I only used a small portion of each package since we were working with such a small area, so if this went well, I'd have seed left-over to use again next year.
Our tomatoes were already planted, so in between we planted onions. Along the front of the garden strip we planted carrots. Along the back and to the far left we intermittently planted beans and corn.
Still my husband insisted I was wasting my time, stating the corn wouldn't grow. So after a couple of weeks when I saw the corn stalks poking up from the soil, I delighted in pointing out to him how wrong he was. Then he re-phrased himself, "well, the plant might grow, but it won't produce corn as you have to have a minimum of four rows planted".
I was getting somewhat tired of his negativity and told him I'd seen some neighbors at the end of our street raise corn in their tiny little garden and they certainly didn't have four rows. He remained skeptical and every chance he got in the presence of another gardener would ask them if corn would grow being planted in a single row. Most agreed with him.
I pointed out that we had several rows of corn, they just happened to be 1 column deep. Put that in your pipe and smoke it!!

It gave me great delight yesterday to point out to the husband that we have ears of corn growing on our corn stalks. They are small as yet, but they are growing. These may be the only two ears we harvest, but darn it, at least we (I) know it can be done.

The bean plants are doing well too.
I have to admit, I tried growing cucumbers again this year, in baskets. They started growing like crazy in the beginning and I had so many plants pop up that I gave away a good number of them. But then they stopped growing. It's those darned coconut-shell lined baskets, they are HORRIBLE for growing veggies in. The water runs right through them. I'll never try that experiment again.
I really would like to expand our garden next year.
I've only been in our pool twice this summer, which is all the more reason for me to want to get rid of it. Reclaim a large part of our back yard for the dogs to play in and perhaps I can reclaim one area of the yard to plant a garden in, if I can just manage to keep the dogs out of it.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Random stuff

*I was having a dream this morning just before the alarm went off. It was a "who-dun-it?", starring Tommy Lee Jones and Morgan Freeman. Have those two ever appeared in a movie together? I don't rightly know, but they were starring in the script that was playing out in my head. A young girl had been abducted, was feared dead as so much time had passed and the detectives were looking for clues. Darn the alarm clock for waking me up!!
I just know either I was a detective in a former life or will be in my next life. I love mysteries and puzzles too much!!!

*I felt like the worst doggy-momma in the world on Friday evening. I put Olivia in the car to go to Emma's house. I always look to make sure her ears, tails and toes are clear of the door before slamming the rear-hatch shut. As always, I looked, the opening was clear, but just as the door was going shut, she turned around in the car and her tail popped into the door frame. Needless to say, I saw it happening in what seemed like slow motion. I couldn't move fast enough to stop the door from going completely shut and slamming her tail. The roaring yelps she let out made my stomach ache, forget my ears hurting. John was standing on the other side of the car and was unaware of what had happened, he reached for her and she bit him out of fright. Fortunately she didn't break the skin. I got the door opened and her tail freed. She went silent and I reached for her tail to check for a cut or worse, a break in the tail. I found no cut, but she pulled away from me when I touched her tail. I tried again, this time she let me run my hands down the length of it without pulling away. I could feel no off-set in the bones. I think it scared her more than anything. Made me physically ill.

*Here's a question for you. Anybody that has worked in a restaurant, perhaps you can help me out with this one...
Example: I go into a restaurant and order a hamburger for $2.00, and I tell them to add cheese. The cheese costs an extra .25cents, bringing my cost to $2.25.
The man in line next to me orders a deluxe-hamburger for $3.00, only asks that they leave off the cheese. His final cost, still $3.00.
I ask you, if they charge me to add cheese, then why not deduct the .25cents from the cost of his burger?
For that matter, if I ask them to add tomato but leave off the onion that normally comes with it, why do I still get charged extra for the tomato? Shouldn't it kinda just be a wash? Give and take?
Why do restaurants do this???

*Why is it that some people have a bad habit of borrowing an ink pen and then walking off with it. Not intentionally stealing it persay, but just not ever returning what they've borrowed? And by that same token, they lay down their own pen when they finish writing and just leave it, doesn't matter where they happen to be, they just leave it lying there? That kind of stuff makes me crazy!! People are forever trying to walk off with my pens. If it's in my presence, I stop them in their tracks. If they "borrow" it when I'm not around, I usually notice it right away and go looking for it. Think I'm joking? I obsess over my writing utensils at work. And if I find one lying on my desk that isn't mine, that makes me just as crazy. I pick it up and either throw it across the room at somebody else's desk, or throw it out the door so that others will have to step over it when they walk past. Again, think I'm joking? Seriously, I don't leave my stuff on their desk, so I really don't want their stuff on mine. I suppose this might qualify me as being O.C.D.
(and I don't mean Oldham County Dispatch either).

*Is it really asking too much of my fellow commuters to finish putting on their make-up, to finish styling their hair or to finish shaving before leaving the house? Or save reading the newspaper 'til they've reached their destination if they didn't have time to read it before leaving home?

*And here's the grand question for my fellow commuters. Ahem...
If you have a freaking death-wish and want to end your own life, fine, go ahead and do it. But do you really have to take others with you when you go? It just really pisses me off when I stop at a gas station and as I'm putting gas in my car, some other ass hole a few feet away is pumping gas into his/her car and smoking a cigarette at the same time. For Pete's sake people, it states right there on the pump, NO SMOKING!!!! But hey, driving off without paying is a crime and lots of people do it, so why would I expect others to extinguish their cigarettes when they could instead blow us all to smithereens instead?

Sunday drive

Yesterday afternoon, after returning to Turners Station after working at the farm, I let the dogs out for a nice run. I ate lunch while the first group played, then showered during the second group. Afterwards I let all of them in the house and I laid down in an attempt to take a nap.
Sleep eluded me so I gave up, got up, and ushered the dogs back out to the kennel.
I was tired of working puzzles, couldn't get comfortable enough in the wicker chair to settle down and read, and had already watched "Last of the Dogmen" twice that weekend (a third time before the night was over). None of her other movies piqued my interest and since the switch to digital broadcasting, there is now NO tv shows to watch. Bummer!
I decided to go for a drive in the country. I headed down roads I'd never ventured down before, just to see where they'd take me. Despite venturing down new roads, the old saying holds true "all roads lead somewhere" and indeed, they kept coming out in places I was familiar with, if only minimally. But I was never lost.
I passed through the small town of Lacie, Kentucky. I'd never heard of it, and to refer to it as a town is somewhat misleading. The only thing I saw were homes and farms. No businesses, not even a post office. I did see one of the most beautiful cattle farms I've ever seen in my life. The rolling hills were gorgeous! I finally turned around and headed back the other way and ended up in Port Royal, Kentucky. I do believe I've found the area I want to retire to. Wow!! As I traveled along Hwy 193 I came to a steep downward grade. It was hard to get a good look at the view because of all the leaves on the tree, but the quick glimpses I saw were absolutely breath-taking!! I can't wait to go back there in the fall when there will be fewer leaves, I just wish there was a pull-off somewhere along the hill so one could get out and admire the view.
I would imagine that town is a real bear to get around in when snow and ice are on the ground. You'd better stock-pile groceries, firewood and other necessities 'cause I don't think you'll be going anywhere anytime soon, but it was my idea of paradise.
I dare say, Port Royal is a hidden gem, waiting to be discovered.

Weekend in review

Another weekend come and gone, the state fair will be here in a couple of weeks and kids are heading back to school. Where has the summer gone?

Friday, I took Olivia for her second session with the therapy-pet trainer, Emma. On the negative side, Liv still needs much work on allowing people (aside from John or I) to lay their arms across her back or touch her on her sides, although she has gotten pretty good about allowing Emma to do so. On the plus side, Liv may not have to pass the D.S. test as this therapy group may affiliate itself with a group out of Houston. In this case, Emma would be Liv's tester and as she knows of Livvie's quirks, then we may be able to get by.

After Livvie's class, we ran home and packed the car, then headed out to our breeders house. It was dark when we arrived. Livvie was out of her element, staying in a strange place and I don't think she slept very well that night. I got up early Saturday morning to take care of all the dogs before heading to Shelbyville for yet another 5k.

However, the weatherman had completely missed his mark for the weather on that day. All week long, and even on Friday's forecast, I and everyone I talked to heard the same thing: chance of rain starting Saturday evening. But darned if it didn't start pouring long about 6:30am. **sigh** Poop! Even if the rain didn't last long and stopped in time for the race, all I had with me were my brand new shoes and I wasn't keen on getting them nasty the first time I wore them. I waited 'til 7, but the storm showed no sign of letting up. I was frustrated (although glad that for once, I hadn't paid my entry fee in advance) and Liv was pacing. I loaded her in the car and drove on home. She passed out and I went back to bed for another 3 hours for some much needed rest, sleeping 'til past 10:30. That is such a rare luxury for me, but one I enjoyed very much. Of course the sun was shining when I got up and I wondered if they'd still ran the race or cancelled it.

The rain returned off and on all day long, at one point looking like a monsoon as it came down in sheets, sideways. Rafts were blowing out of the pool and littered the backyard. Now I was really getting bummed as we were supposed to go to a concert in Pewee Valley, starting at 5pm. The last shower finally ended shortly after 4, the sun finally broke through the clouds right at showtime and heated things up.

We had front row seats for the Monarchs concert. Olivia accompanied us and was on her utmost, bestest behavior, even when a strange dog approached and goosed her in the rear with it's wet nose. Unfortunately, as I had to head back out to Turners Station and care for the other dogs, we had to leave before the show was over. :(

Sunday at the farm, I attempted clicker-training-suicide. Instead of sticking with the normal handful of horses I prefer to work with, I decided to suck-it-up and attempt one of the farm's "problem children", Teaguer.

Teaguer is a beautiful pony to look at. He moves beautifully and is very intelligent. His only drawback is that he's a biter. And as a result, nobody wants to handle him or go into a stall with him. He's a p.i.t.a. to catch when it's time to come back in, as he'd much rather stay out and graze. He's a p.i.t.a. to put a halter on when he's in his stall as he tries to eat the halter. He's a p.i.t.a. to lead anywhere as he's constantly trying to nip at you or else he'll plant his feet and refuse to budge. Personally, I think he's got some mule genes running through his DNA, he's certainly stubborn as a mule.

But, I got to thinking that since nobody wants to handle him, maybe that's what he needs to help curb the biting, to be handled more and to engage his mind. I took him into the indoor arena and led him to a rubber mat. He flinched and backed away from it at first, but within a few minutes, I had him not only stepping on the mat, but walking onto it, stopping and standing. I only managed to get 3 of his 4 feet onto the mat before running out of treats, but it was great progress. The only problem was that after a while, once he'd stopped on the mat, then I couldn't get him to step off, he planted his feet and I'd probably have had better luck trying to push an elephant. Maybe I'll have better luck next weekend, or maybe it will inspire some other volunteers to start spending more time with him and perhaps get him past his nipping.

Friday, July 24, 2009

sleepin' on the job

I am so utterly exhausted, it is all I can do to keep my eyes open. Thank goodness there's nothing going on at work today, 'cause I'm liable to fall asleep at my 'puter. ~zzzzz~
It was late when I got home from that nursing home. Then by the time I took the dogs out to potty one at a time (back yard is too muddy after the recent rain to let B&E out to do their business), it was already past my bedtime. I'm sure it was after 10:30 before I fell asleep, only to wake up gasping for air sometime around 12:30.
I'd had a bad dream that scared me so bad, I guess I must've inhaled sharply in my sleep and come up short of air. It was sometime after 4:30 this morning before I ever fell back to sleep, only to get up again at 6:20. And tonight is going to be an even longer night.
I had dreamt that I'd gotten a phone call in the middle of the night from some nurse at a hospital, telling me that a family member had just died.
Perhaps that visit to the nursing home yesterday traumatized me more than I realized.

Seriously, I think I could just lie down on the floor under my desk and snooze.

Another cruel blow from the religious community :(

Some of the 5k and charity walks that Olivia and I participate in each weekend are hosted by and/or benefit nationally recognized charities, some are local charities, some the parks & recreation departments, and then there are other causes such as fire departments, churches, community involvement, etc.
I don't discriminate on the events we participate in (unless it has to do with the Kentucky Derby Festival, for reasons I mentioned in a blog a few months ago). I participate for the fun of it, for the exercise, for the sense of accomplishment, and for socializing Olivia. No lofty purpose, no competitive reasons.
So needless to say, it's a bit of a let-down when I set my sights on an event, pencil it onto my calendar and then email my request to make sure I can bring Olivia (after all, if she's not welcome, then neither am I as far as I'm concerned), only to be told "no dogs allowed".
Thus far, in the past 4 months, I've had the Susan B. Komen people tell me they'd rather I didn't bring my dog, but that they wouldn't ban us if I showed up with her, the Oldham County Festival people say flat out "NO!", Crestwood Baptist Church with a big fat "NO!", and now another church is on the "NO!" bandwagon.
I had another event I had already planned on participating in on this particular date in October that I know DOES allow dogs, but when I found out this particular church was having an event at the same time, I kinda thought that one sounded more fun, and too there are some familial ties involved there.
So needless to say, when I got the man's response that they didn't allow dogs to participate and his reasoning, I could keep silent no longer.
Normally when I'm told "No" in reply to my query, I just file the response away and scratch the event from my list.
But this response stated "We don’t allow pets for all of the obvious reasons unfortunately. We followed suit with other races and I presume this is standard policy to avoid liability".
I couldn't just file his response away this time, I had to respond to his statement. As politely as I could, I stated "I'm not sure about it being standard policy though, as I participate with my dog in a 5k event or charity-walk every single weekend. Unfortunately, I won't participate in such events without my 4-legged partner at my side. Thanks anyway!"

Was I out of line? I hope I didn't come across as being harsh, but I just think the man was waaay off base about it being standard policy at other events. Maybe it's just standard policy at church sponsored events, as that's what I'm beginning to believe. Considering I'm "oh for 2" on church 5ks thus far, I'm thinking there's probably no point in me inquiring about an event at a church in Middletown this fall.

Stepping outside one's comfort zone...

Sometimes, the best way to overcome our fears and phobias is to face them head on. This means stepping outside of our comfort zone. Occasionally we can overcome our fears, other times, we may not fully get past them but we at least get to a point we can cope with them. Then again, there are some things we just can't ever overcome.

Nursing homes. One of my fears. I've always hated them. I hate visiting anyone that resides there, and refused to visit my own grandparents when they were in them, yet I'm one of the first to suggest it's time for someone go and live there... go figure!
The only thing I can figure that brought on my fear of these places is from when my grandmother did some kind of work at a home when I was very young. I don't remember what she did or which home it was, but I can very clearly remember her taking me and my aunt/uncle (not much older than me) along and making us stay in the waiting area.
The smell of the place was awful, and seeing the nearly skeletal old people with wrinkled skin hanging from their bones as they were pushed along in wheelchairs, well, it was enough to traumatize any child. Child? Hell, any adult! It was worse than any horror movie I've ever seen.
Okay, maybe from a child's point of view it was worse than it really was, but still, once those images and fears are instilled in you, it's hard to get past them.
I successfully managed to avoid setting foot in another nursing home for the next 30-35 years. Then a few years ago while at a family reunion for my mom's side of the family, some of us decided to go visit aunt Gladys (my great-aunt). I thought she was in an assisted-living complex, which to me isn't quite as bad as a nursing home. When we arrived and were walking down the hall to her room, I realized it wasn't assisted living but an actual nursing home, and it smelled. I was already committed to the visit, but would've given anything if I could've turned and bolted out of there.
I did my best to breathe through my mouth to try and lessen my sense of smell. It gave me the heebee-jeebies seeing some of the residents sitting in their wheelchairs, out in the hallway, barely existing. My aunt was in her room, but the t-shirt she had on was dirty with stains from the food she'd spilled on it. Yeah, granted, I've got stained t-shirts and occasionally everyone spills some food on themselves, but this looked like the kind of spill that had been there all day and nobody had done anything to try and put a clean shirt on her.
I was extremely glad once we were back outside in the fresh air.
So fast forward to present time...
As most of you know, I'm in the process of training Olivia to become a therapy-pet. There are several different venues out there where she could be of assistance, nursing homes being just one of them. Personally, I'm hoping to seek out those other venues in hopes they won't be as traumatic to me. However, one has to "pay their dues", learn the ropes and observe others in action so I will know how to present myself and Olivia.
This meant that last night I had to take a giant step out of my comfort zone and go to a nursing home. I accompanied the instructor Emma, her toy poodle Sam, and another girl that was also there to observe. Emma was telling us to skip rooms with closed doors, that were marked with an orange tag (infectious disease warning), or that had signs posted "no pets".
For the most part, my breathing remained normal. There were only a couple of small areas where the odors nearly did me in. Instead, it was more a case of what I saw that nearly unhinged me.
There as one woman whose t-shirt was pulled up, exposing her bloated belly and was hanging half out of her bed, and only a diaper on the lower half of her body.
Then there was the woman who seemed MUCH too young to be in a nursing home, except that she was beyond being morbidly obese and the skin on her swollen feet was nearly black. Not bruised mind you, but black, as in from lack of circulation I suppose.
The blank stares on some of their faces was almost as scary as they seemed almost zombie like.
Many of these things had me turning my head, trying to take a deep breath without being too noticeable, then turning back with a forced smile that I hoped didn't look too fake.
But then...
There were the residents that got a spark in their eye, the corners of their mouths would lift in a smile and a glow came across their face as Sam approached them and allowed himself to be petted. On these occasions the smile on my own face felt genuine.
I'm still hoping I can find a different venue in the future for when Olivia and I start getting out on our own. But for now, I know I need to suck-it-up, hold my breath if necessary and plaster a smile on my face until I've "earned my stripes", so to speak.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Let it out!!

As mentioned yesterday, aside from feeling vaguely nauseated on Monday, I had a good time riding the roller coasters. I always do. I love the dips, rolls, upside turns, hang-time, etc. etc. And I love the chance to scream.
You can scream at the top of your lungs and nobody gives you a strange look (most likely because they're screaming too), nobody calls 911 thinking a murder is taking place, nor do they call for the man to come and take you away in a straight-jacket. You can scream and scream and scream... well, until the ride is over, then it's rather silly to continue screaming while sitting still.
But still, it feels good to inhale deeply and then let it out with all the emotion you can muster.
I liken a ride on a roller coaster to a successful session of primal-scream-therapy.
I actually have a hard time screaming (when not on a coaster) unless I'm enraged about something and am raising my voice to yell at someone. I may let out a startled shriek if something frightens me, but there have been times I probably should've screamed but I simply couldn't find my voice. Thus, roller coasters allow me the chance to release all the pent up urges to scream I've been suppressing.
So if you're feeling frustrated, I highly recommend taking a ride on a thrill ride at an amusement park and let it out!! You'll feel better.

More Rated "X"

It happened again!
I rode John again last evening and it was even better than the time before. Like so many other males I know, he can be a bit lazy at times, expecting me to do all the work. If I left it up to him, he'd just stay in one spot while I straddled him, but I was having none of that. I wanted him to satisfy me! John can be a bit stubborn at times and wants to move slowly, at his own pace as he's in no hurry to get anywhere, but he's a smooth ride. After a while we got into a rhythm and after about an hour, it finally started to sink in what I needed to do to keep him going, I only wish we could've kept going, but neither of us is as young as we used to be and stamina is an issue at times. Like any activity, it takes practice and building up endurance.
I was introduced in to what some might consider a bit of S&M. It's not my thing, but hey, to each their own. John was my slave, I his master. I was handed a riding crop and told to use it as needed. It's something I have a hard time doing as there's just a bit of a mental block there about using a stick to strike another living being, unless you're doing so to defend yourself.
Last night was the first time I participated in a group session. There was only s'posed to be one other woman there, but for reasons I'm not sure of, there were three other women and one guy. I was nervous about performing in front of such an audience, but after a while I was able to tune them out and focus on John. Briefly, I dismounted from him and one young woman mounted him, taking my place and rode John while I watched, giving me some pointers. I know some women might get jealous having another person, especially another woman ride their mount, but I was actually glad to visually see what I should be doing to get the most from him. She dismounted and I reclaimed my seat.
Gee, isn't that every guys dream, having two women ride him in one evening?
Afterwards, we were both tired and my trembling knees and burning thighs made it all but impossible to stand on my own two feet. John was sweaty and looking for some loving of a different sort afterwards so I rubbed him down before returning him to his stall.
One of these evenings I'll remember to take my camera so I can take a picture of him.
Last night was a night of many firsts for me. I learned to canter and enjoy it soooo much more than the trotting and posting I was introduced to last week. It was the first time I was comfortable holding the reins with only one hand while doing anything other than a slow plod. Hopefully we can do more cantering again next week and allow me to build up my skills and confidence on one horse and gait before putting me on the more spirited horses and learning new gaits and riding styles.
Again, I rate my riding experience as "X" for extreme fun. ;)

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Weekend in review

In the Louisville area, we've been experiencing fall-like weather with no complaints from anyone that I'm aware of. The temps at night drop down into the 60's and even 50's in some out-lying areas, and the highs are in the 70's, with nearly zero humidty. Absolutely unheard of in July!!
We were able to turn off the a/c and open the windows for a nice change of pace.
Saturday morning dawned cool and crisp as Olivia and I headed to the Floyds Knobs of Indiana to participate in yet another 5k, this one being the St. Mary's Navilleton Chicken Fun Run/Walk 5k. The course was a bit hilly, which made it a bit challenging for some of us. There was a good crowd of about 125-150 participants. Fortunately, I didn't see my "stalker" there, but did recognize a few other faces from past events.
One lady that was recovering from hip replacement surgery (11 weeks prior) was easing back in to her life as a sports trainer. She and I kept the same pace and talked almost the entire distance about our dogs, 5k events, our aches and pains. I mentioned a pain I'd been experiencing in my toe 1/2 way through each event and she said, "oh, that sounds like a Morton's Neuroma". Of course I had nothing to write that down on and couldn't remember the name of it by the time I was back to my car.
Later that afternoon, I went shopping for a new, and more importantly, BETTER, pair of sneakers. I went to Pacers and Racers in New Albany and I was explaining what aches and pains I had and darned if two different people both tell me that it sounded like a Morton's Neuroma.
Hmm, 3 people in one day tell me that. Very interesting. It gave me something to look up once I got to a computer.
I stopped by my parents house that evening as my mother is recovering from foot surgery. On a whim, I asked her if the problem she had with her toe that was operated on was called a Morton's... and before I could finish asking, she said "neuroma".
Amazing how this little thing keeps popping up all of a sudden.

So for those of you that are wondering what a Morton's Neuroma is, it's described as a tumor in the nerves that run between the third and fourth toe, although it can appear between other toes, which in my case seems to be between the 2nd & 3rd. And calling it a tumor is somewhat misleading, I mean, it's not like a cancerous tumor or anything that's going to spread or cause death. It's basically just pressure being applied to the nerve that causes the toe(s) to hurt, tingle, go numb, etc.
The first step in treating it is wearing shoes with a larger toe-box. If the problem persists, the doctor will probably try some injections. If all else fails, then surgery.
Mine is in the early stages as it's only been bothering me for about 4 or 5 months, since I took up 5k-walking, and that's the only time it bothers me. I know, I know, some of you would be quick to suggest that I give up doing these 5k's. I suppose I could do that, and then just sit my fat butt down in front of the tv and allow it to get even wider. But that would only lead to a whole host of other health problems down the road. I'm willing to keep walking and give the new shoes a try, then see the doctor if necessary for treatment. Until a doctor tells me to stop walking, I'm going to keep it up! Onward to Shelbyville this coming Saturday for the Mare-A-Thon 5k that kicks off the Shelby County Horse Show.
Sunday found me at the farm as usual. I attempted to clicker-train one of the mares, but she's got such horrible separation anxiety when you remove her from the other mares, I wouldn't call our time together a smashing success. Although "smashing" would be an appropriate word otherwise as she kept trying to shove me aside with her head and as a result I kept getting my right hand smashed, leaving a bruise on it by the time we were done. I got such a work-out from trying to hold on to her and keep her moving around the arena that I was too exhausted to try and work with any of the other horses afterwards.
I'll leave you with a photo of 2 of the 4 newest kittens that have come to live at the farm...
This is Ron & Neville. Don't ask me which is which because I can't tell them apart. Nobody can. There about 3 months old and too cute to watch playing and exploring. I think the lady that named it said it had something to do with Harry Potter characters, but I won't swear to it. Personally, it makes me think of the singer Aaron Nevil.
If only cats would stay this small and cute.

I got bit :(

I should've heeded the warning signs, but I proceeded anyway, throwing all caution to the wind. I was brave. Scratch that. Make that: fool-hearted in my attempts to tame the wild beast. There were signs posted all over the place warning trespassers that dared to enter the lair, but I paid them no mind. I had broken the rules before and I dared to break them again.
As a result, I got bit and bit good.
The only good thing I can say is that it didn't break the skin, but I do have some ugly bruises to show for it...



The pictures really don't show the bruises very well, as they look blurry and out of focus, but it's hard to take a photo of one's underarm without seeing what you're aiming at.
I've actually got bruises on both arms, but the left is the worse.
So what kind of animal did this to me, you ask?
Was it one of my beloved Great Danes? No.
One of the much loved (or not so favored) horses at the farm? No.
A stray dog in the neighborhood or perhaps one of our breeder's dogs? No.
It was none other than...
THE BEAST!!!
The Beast rollercoaster at Kings Island.
John & I spent the day there on Monday. The Beast was the 2nd ride and our first coaster we rode for the day and the one I suffered the most from. My arms were pinched horribly in between the seat and the shoulder harness bars.
We were fortunate in that the park wasn't overly crowded, 20 minutes being the longest we had to wait for any ride (and that one ride was Scooby Doo's Haunted Mansion.... rather lame). The lines were moving so well we could've gotten off and gotten right back on had we wanted.
The Vortex and Son of the Beast were both closed and we never got to ride them. We wanted to ride Firehawk, but there is an additional charge to ride it and I refused, even if it was only 75cents. I paid my admission to the park, I shouldn't have to pay again. The line to the new coaster, the Diamond Back was the only long line we would've had to wait for, and goodness knows we've been known to wait 2-3 hours in the past, but I was sickly most of the day and don't think I could've handled standing there all that time.
While I did enjoy all the coasters we did ride, and would've loved to have done them all, I've come to the conclusion I'm not as young as I used to be and my stomach can't handle it as well as it used to. I didn't throw up or pass out or anything, but I felt nauseous and almost light-headed from the time we got off our first ride and it never really got any better 'til we got in the car to go home. If the temperature and humidity had been any higher, I have no doubt I truly would've gotten ill. :(
I had some fears of what all the bone jarring, shaking, whipping about and such would do to my already existing aches and pain. Aside from the bruising on my arms, I gotta say, my elbow hasn't felt this good in a long time and none of the other pains have gotten worse, and no new pains have cropped up. So maybe everybody needs to spend a day getting tossed about on a half dozen rollercoasters to whip them back into shape. ;)

Friday, July 17, 2009

Posting

I'd like to know who the sick, sadistic, S.O.B. is that decided "posting" was a good way to ride a horse???
After having such a good experience last week, and being pain-free the next day, I was ill-prepared for last night's lesson. I hurt so bad today it's unreal!
I've had a chiropractor appointment scheduled for this evening for over a week, and it's a darned good thing. I just know I'm going to drag myself in there and Dr. S will say, "what have you gone and done to yourself?". I was tearing the medicine cabinet apart this morning looking for a muscle relaxer, but never found any, so I settled for 2 Tylenol. They did little to ease my discomfort.
My neck and shoulders hurt. My hips, tush, knees and thighs hurt. I'm just super glad my low back isn't bothering me. I know these muscle aches/pains will subside and with practice I'll get better and build strength and eventually stop hurting after these rides. But if the low back ever starts becoming an issue, then I fear I'll have to give it up as I can't deliberately put myself through that agony again.
My lessons are at Twin Oaks Farm. My first two lessons were private, next week I'll move into a group lesson, albeit a small group as there is only one other rider in the class.

This is "Nugget", a palomino who is considerably more livelier than John, my steed from last week. But the gauntlet was thrown down when my instructor informed me that her 6 year old granddaughter rode Nugget all the time. Okay, so if a 6 year old can handle this horse, surely I can do it too. Hmph!
Yeah, if posting hadn't been introduced into the lesson, I'd have done fine.
I watched the instructor mount him and show me how posting was done, she made it look easy and effortless. But my own efforts, well, they weren't so easy. Practice makes perfect, right?
I just don't know how much more practice my tush can take 'til I get it right!
I'm not really complaing, I truly am having a great time and learning a lot. I can't wait 'til my next class on Tuesday. :)

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Miffed! And still short-changed :(

I blogged several days ago about an organizer I'd purchased at Office Max, only to discover after I'd started filling it in that several months were missing. Office Max was of no help.
I contacted the Day-Timer company and they were quick to reply and stated they were mailing me the replacement pages. I was happy with this.
Well, that is, until I got the package.
I had told them exactly what kind of organizer I had purchased, even including the UPC code.
So what did they send me?
The cheapest refill they had apparently. :(
Yeah, sure, it fits in my organizer as far as size and hole-punch locations, but it's not at all what I wanted.
grumble, grumble!
I know beggars shouldn't be choosers, but honestly, am I being a beggar? I don't think so. I was short-changed from the get-go. I would just like them to replace the missing sections with exactly what it should've come with. Is that asking too much?
Apparently so.
I've searched their websites company store top to bottom, frontwards and backwards, and apparently they don't make my organizer anymore, or the same type of refill pages.
Now I'm really unhappy! :(
Grrrrr!!!

Up on my soapbox. Again!

Here I go again! I'm getting up on my soapbox and I'm going to rant.

People who commit crimes, are convicted and sent to prison to serve a sentence, are in prison for a reason. Duh. Because they committed a crime.
Being a little more specific here... murderers. If you take a life, you should go to prison. And you should serve your sentence, repay your debt to society, and not expect preferential treatment. It actually pisses me off that these inmates get some of the luxuries that they do, especially on my dime. I'm not saying prison life is easy, but it isn't as tough as it should be either.
If someone takes another persons life, they are killing someone else's child, parent, spouse, sibling, and/or friend. When that person is murdered, not only has the victim's life ended, but it causes immense grief and suffering for the survivors. Families are torn apart.
The murder is sent to prison and there he/she should stay.
So what has me in such an uproar you ask?
Recently, we held funeral services for a person who had a family member that was serving time in prison for murder. The family was doing their darnedest to get that murderer released, if only for a couple of hours, so that she could come and pay her final respects to her grandparent. They were even going as far as to pay nearly a $1000 so that the woman could get some liberty.
It's not the first time we've had inmates, escorted by armed guards, come to the funeral home so that they could pay their respects. And part of me feels if it wasn't some kind of felony where another person was physically harmed, then if the family is willing to pay the fee, then so be it. But when we're talking about a murderer, that took another person's life with no regard for what she was doing to the victim' family, then why should she be granted the right (paid for or not by the family) to say her "good-byes" to her family member(s)?
Needless to say, her family was rather upset that she wasn't able to come and pay her respects to her grandparent.
Why should she be allowed? She didn't pay her victim's family any respect by taking his/her life!
I say not being allowed liberty for such occasions is a part of the punishment. If you don't like it, tough! You should have thought about the consequences before you murdered your victim.
Whew!
I'm getting off my soapbox now.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Dr. Shopping

Our health insurance company has become somewhat of a p.i.t.a. (pain in the ass) as far as Norton Healthcare is concerned, and as a result, Norton's did not renew their contract with our insurance company. What this means to us is that any physician we choose to see who is affiliated with Nortons is now considered out-of-network and we will have to pay more money out-of-pocket to see that doctor.
It's a crock of sh*t is what it is. Especially for people that have been seeing the same doctor(s) for many, many years. We have to choose between paying more for the peace-of-mind of remaining with our physician or easing our financial burden and find a new doctor.
Sunzuvbitchzzz!
In the past three or four years, a new medical facility opened up less than a mile from our house, within walking distance really, and after 20 years of not having a primary care physician, we finally settled on one in this new facility. The best part, a new hospital was being built next door. How great that was going to be! Of course, now it's not so great for us as it's all a part of Nortons. Grrrr!!
Yeah sure, if it's a big emergency and time is of the essence, we'll go there, but in general, not any more!
So now we're doctor shopping.
I hate this. I think I'd rather go to my dentist and have a root canal performed. **sigh**
I've been looking up physicians that have a family-care practice or internal care practice. Can somebody please tell me the difference between the two?? I really don't understand.
Anyway, I've been searching for a doctor within a 2-zipcode radius, once I find a listing for one, then I look up their picture in the pictorial roster, trying to get a feel for their age. I don't want a doctor fresh out of medical school and I don't want one that's older than dirt and going to retire any time soon.
Do I want a man physician? Not especially. A man is fine for dental, vision, e.n.t., allergist, even orthopaedics, but not for pcp or obgyn. My husband doesn't care if we go to separate doctors, but I'd really rather we see the same one, just so the doctor is familiar with the family dynamics, if that makes sense.
Whatever happened to the good old days? You picked out a family doctor and he(she) served in most capacities, rarely did you see a specialist unless you had some rare tropical illness. And there was no issue over what insurance you carried or what hospital you could go to.
I swear, insurance companies and the gov't. are going to kill us!

Friday & Saturday

This past Friday evening was when Olivia and I had our first meeting with Emma, the lady that's starting the new pet-therapy group. Emma also teaches obedience and agility and has toy poodles with several titles in both areas.
Emma and Olivia hit it off from first meeting. Emma is a bundle of energy and enthusiasm, and I love listening to her German accent.


Olivia already has her Canine Good Citizen title, but will have to pass the test for the Delta Society before she's ready to start doing therapy work. Fortunately, the test for D.S. is very much the same as the C.G.C., with only a couple of minor differences, but there are things we have to work on before she's ready to take her test, probably some time in August.


Emma thinks Olivia will make a fine therapy pet, and we're going to meet with her once a week for the next month to work on those areas. Of course, I'm working with her at home as well.



With Olivia's lack of peripheral vision, she has a tendancy to want to turn or back up so that she can see your hands and watch what you are doing. One of the tests she'll have to pass is having three strangers come up and lay their arms across her back and sides...

Of course she allows John or I to do this, but a stranger? She didn't allow Emma at first, but after she'd spent some time with her, she finally allowed Emma to rest her arms across her back. She's making progress! Now if she'll only let others do the same.

Another thing we have to work on is "Come". In the past, I've taught Olivia to come when called by waving a towel or some object in front of me. Emma wants me to re-teach her to come using the hand signal from American Sign Language. Thus far, this hasn't been a smashing success.
If I'm standing no more than 2 feet in front of Liv, it's not a problem, but if I get much further away, it's somewhat hit and miss. I think she has trouble seeing me and the gesture with my hand.
We've been doing our homework every evening and look forward to meeting with her again this Friday.



Saturday morning, Olivia and I made the drive to Westport, Kentucky. Westport is a small town on the Ohio River. Not much is there aside from a couple of churches, a volunteer fire dept., an old general store turned diner, a knick-knack store and the post office. The town is down in a valley and I'm totally in love with the rural area. Our friend Leslie and her 3 year old daughter Taylor followed us out and joined us on the 5k walk.
We signed in at the picnic shelter and there I met my "stalker". A fellow runner who I've apparently met before (but don't remember) walked up to pet Olivia and greeted her by name.
From that point on, he followed us all around. We were finally able to ditch him for a short while, but then he started shadowing us again. Kinda creepy. He looks a lot like an actor I've seen on Law & Order (or maybe L&O:SVU), but that actor always plays the murderer. Maybe that's why he was creeping me out.
Apparently there are no leash laws in the area we were walking, as dogs were running loose all over the place. One of the race officials approached us when we were about 3/4 of a mile from the finish and informed us one of the female racers was bitten on the leg by one of the loose dogs and that we might want to avoid the area by the baptist church. Since we were bringing up the rear and obviously not in contention for any awards, we did take a small short-cut to get back to the park. Cheating? Yeah, perhaps, but it was all in the name of safety.
The woman who had been bitten had a nasty bite on her leg and I told her I was sorry for what had happened and she said, "oh, it wasn't your fault". I said, "I know, but it's dogs like that, that give the rest of us (meaning Olivia & other good dogs) a bad name".

Unfortunately, poor Olivia got a bit car sick on the ride home and threw up in the back of my SUV, so I had to stop along the way to clean out the vomit as the smell was about to make me sick.
So what does a hot, tired, puney feeling girl do when she gets home?


She curls up in her favorite recliner.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Rated "X"

When you have a passion, you need to follow where your heart takes you. Sometimes, no matter the circumstances, you just need to give in and as the Nike slogan says, "just do it!".
Last night, for the first time in a loooong time, my passions were fulfilled.
My heart was beating wildly as I rode John 'til the sun went down. Afterwards, we were both sweaty, my thighs were a quiver and I tingled all over, but it was all good. It had been too long and it felt darned good! I don't know if it was as good for him as it was for me, but neither of us was complaining afterwards.
:)
~
~
~
~
~
~

~
Okay, get your minds out of the gutter.
I had my first riding lesson last night (horse back riding that is), and the horse I was riding was named John.
It's been years since I've ridden, and even then the occasions were few and far between. So now, as long as I can scrape the funds together, I'm going to ride at least once a week.
Seriously, my thighs and knees were shaky after I'd dismounted and I feared I'd be terribly sore this morning as on past occasions I usually suffered for a couple of days following. But surprisingly, I feel fine this morning. I can hardly wait for next week to get here!
I rate my evening as "X" for MOST EXCELLENT!!!

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Good morning

I was sleeping so soundly this morning, dreaming of... well, I don't rightly remember. It was after 6am, but not yet time for the alarm to go off at 6:20.
The house started shaking and loud thumping noises woke me with a start. I sat straight up in bed, thinking we must be having another of those random earth quakes our area occasionally gets hit with.
But then as the sleep induced fog cleared from my brain, I realized that it wasn't an act of nature making the house shake. No, it was an act of Olivia. She was entertaining herself out in the living room by playing with one of her toys. She would toss it up in the air and then try to catch it. If she missed, she'd go stomping after it. But in her attempts to catch the flying object(s), she has a habit of rearing up in the air and then slamming her front paws down on the ground, thus creating the commotion that woke me up.
No point in fussing at her to stop. I would've gotten up in a few minutes anyway, and besides, what was the point? She wouldn't have heard me. I rolled from the bed and flicked on the lamp that was rattling on the nightstand. When the light came on, the thumping suddenly stopped. Liv had noticed the light shining from the bedroom and stopped her manic, one-sided game of fetch, coming to stand there and look over the doggy-gate at me with her mouth hanging open in a doggy-grin, tongue lolling to the side, happy face in place, tail wagging furiously causing more minuscule chips of paint to flake off the wall where her tail constantly beats against it.
Despite the rude awakening and the 10 minutes of sleep I was shorted, I love these greetings.
It lets me know everything is right in her world and she's eagerly awaiting me to come wait on her hand and foot, er, paw.
On the mornings she sleeps in and I don't have her staring over the gate at me, I always enter the living room with a bit of trepidation, fearing she might've had another of her seizures through the night and that I might have slept through it. Fortunately, those are few and far between and we've yet to sleep through one. So on the mornings that I awake before her and have to go wake her up, I can't help but marvel at how such a large creature can curl up into such a tight ball, sleeping so soundly, oblivious to the world around her. She looks so peaceful I almost hate to wake her. I'll touch her, either by laying my hand on her side, stroking her head, or tickling the space in between her paw-pads. Her sweet white head will pop up and give me a sleepy smile before jumping to her feet and racing ahead of me to the kitchen.
She's so enthusiastic about meal time. Standing in the doorway of the garage, watching me measure out their food. Sitting right at my side, a torrent of saliva pouring from the corners of her mouth and either splashing onto the floor or landing on my foot as she watches me add water, stir and add her cranberry pill. Then she excitedly pushes herself backwards, on her butt, all the way across the kitchen floor, coming to a stop in front of the elevated dog-dish stand.
Once she's finished her breakfast, she's off to the living room to settle down and nap for the next hour, 'til I get ready to take her out one last time before leaving.


The other dogs take her wacky behavior in stride, usually just staying out of her way and letting her have her fun and allowing her to amuse herself. She makes me smile.
With Olivia in my life, it's hard to have anything but a good morning.

I'm including my song of the day here, "Make Someone Happy" by Doris Day. Her love of dogs and the many pix in this video share my sentiment.

New Gadget ->->->->->->->->->

I've got a new gadget over to the right of my blog-site ->->->->->->->->->->->
It's "GoodSearch".
If you ever use google or ask.com, then next time, consider using Goodsearch and helping out a charity in the process.
My charity of choice is The Luci Center. It costs you nothing, but every time you search the web for an item using GoodSearch, they donate 1-cent to the charity of your choice.

Random stuff

I love the movie "Patch Adams". When it came out at the movie theater, we went to see it with several friends, but the theater was so packed, we couldn't find seats together and the husband and I ended up sitting waaaay in the back. I don't think there was a dry eye in the house, whether from all the laughter or the occasional sad moment, but the movie ultimately had a happy ending. We loved it so much, we have it on video (yes, the old-fashioned format of VHS) and still watch it from time to time.
I went on-line recently to check on the progress of the Gesundheit Hospital and saw they were selling these t-shirts as a fundraiser.


I'd simply LOVE to have one, but they don't make them large enough, I think they only go up to XL, and that's pushing it for me. I like a minimum of a 2XL, sometimes even a 3XL. I don't like tight fitting clothes, I want to be able to move easily. So if you ever see that they've started selling the larger shirts, let me know and I'll be right there with money in hand. I just think they are too cute!


Not everybody can wake up to find this outside their front door at 6:20 in the morning...

Yes, this is what my husband drives for a living. Argueably one of the most recognized logos in the world, and despite some of the occasional frustrations that go with the job, I can honestly tell you he loves his job and the brand he delivers.
So why was it outside my house this morning? Well, let's just say there's nothing like having a home-field advantage when it comes to having a "call of nature", and since he just happened to be delivering nearby...


This is Toody the Turtle. Isn't she pretty, in a box-turtle kind of way?

She's been with us for about a week and a half now.

She loves cooked chicken, bananas, even cat food. She hasn't been too crazy about the other vegetables offered her thus far though. I'm currently on the look-out for slugs.
I don't know what I thought turtle poop looked like, but suffice it to say I was more than surprised at what came out of her. Looked like a small dog or cat had pooped in her pen.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Pride

As Olivia and I have a very important meeting this Friday evening, I felt we needed to practice and brush-up on our obedience before the big day arrived.
Olivia knows "sit" and does this very well. Especially when there is food involved.
But in all honestly, I haven't worked with her on "down", "stay", "wait", or "come" in almost three years. I really wasn't too sure she'd remember those commands at all, or at least, probably wouldn't perform them very well. So I took her out last night and started putting her through the different commands. Imagine my surprise when she did them all on the first try. I repeated each of them several times and she performed all of them beautifully with the exception of one "come", which she "stayed" instead. But in all honesty, I'd rather have had her "stay" instead of getting up and wondering off, so that wasn't a total bust.
We'll work some more this evening, practice makes perfect.
I need to work with her on walking past another dog and ignoring it... this she has a tough time with. If she doesn't see it, she's fine. If she does, well, that's another story.
She doesn't really sit square either, but this isn't a big deal since we're not participating in any competition.
Regardless, I'm very proud of my Livvie.

Short-changed

I purchased a new organizer the other day, approx. 7" x 9", big enough that I had room to write dates and appointments, yet small enough it would still fit into my luggage, er, I mean, purse.
Our lives have become so busy, especially of late, that it has become a necessity to write everything down and constantly check availability. There's so much going on I can no longer rely on my memory to keep track of it all. Between doctors appts., my time at the farm, kennel sitting, riding lessons, 5k events, leisure activities and hopefully now I'll be adding pet-therapy to the schedule, I'm starting to feel like a soccer mom that spends every spare moment shuttling the kids from sporting event to sporting event, in a manner of speaking.
I've got a calendar on the kitchen wall, bathroom wall and at my office, but it's a rare thing if all three of them have the same info written on them. So I'm hoping I can get my act together and keep this thing constantly updated.
Okay, so back to this organizer...
I purchased it Friday evening. Saturday afternoon I started filling it in. It's an un-dated calendar that I fill in myself, so it doesn't matter that I'm starting mid-year. I got July & August filled in, but when I started on September, I discovered I'd been short-changed. Big time!
There was only the first page for September, one page for October, and none at all for November or December. Grrr!
I went back to Office Max last night, organizer and receipt in hand and explained the situation and asked if they had refill pages so that I could just get replacements for what I was missing.
They were sold out and the asst. manager (associate, customer service rep., young punk... take your pick) was less then helpful. I wanted to throttle him. His only suggestion was that I go on-line and try to order a replacement.
By all means, allow me to do your job for you. Heaven forbid he make an effort at customer satisfaction by offering to replace it with something equivalent or calling one of the other stores to see if they had the refill pages, or by offering to see if/when they'd be getting a shipment in or offering to order it for me.
Customer service truly has gone down the toilet in most retail businesses. And while I know not all young people (say, under 25 years of age) are rude and lazy, there are just way too many of them in positions of responsibility that have absolutely no business being in that position.
So I've now emailed the daytimer company and explained the situation and am awaiting a reply.
Hmph!

Monday, July 06, 2009

Friday photo challenge - finery


Well, I don't have too many items that qualify as "finery". I'm not in to fancy place settings or linens or fine china/silverwear.
But I do have an antique china cabinet that belonged to John's grandmother, and it's got a few odds and ends in it...
The 2 antique plates on the top shelf to your right came out of my great-grandmother's house after she died, and there is the top off of our wedding cake, a Mikasa bowl somebody gave us as a wedding present, an antique glass door knob (from where I don't even remember now... show's you how sentimental it is to me), the toast-glasses from our wedding, glasses from my jr. & sr. proms, vases, some impression-glass pieces and some other glassware.
I wonder why I hold on to these things? They never get used and just taking up space and collecting dust.
And the hutch that my m-i-l gave us... I haven't decided yet which of her grandchildren I will eventually give it to.
Finery? It's debateable.

New adventure...

When we got Olivia 4 years ago, I had aspirations at that time of her someday becoming a therapy pet. She and I went through nearly a full year of obedience schooling, she got her Canine Good Citizenship on the first try, and then I hurt my back. Her training got pushed aside. In the past several months as most of you know, Olivia and I have started participating in 5k (+/-) events. Not only is it good exercise for both of us, but it has helped her tremendously in being socialized.
A couple of weeks ago while I was working a booth at the M.S. Healthfair, I met a woman that was involved in pet-therapy and told her I was interested in giving it a try. We traded phone numbers and she said she'd call me. More than a week went by without hearing from her, so I finally made the call. She was thrilled I'd called her as she'd lost my number.
We talked for a bit and she told me about a new organization being formed. It's similar to Wags, only on a smaller scale. She put me in touch with the group's leader and now Olivia and I have an appointment this Friday evening to go and be evaluated and find out whether we're pet-therapy worthy. So wish us luck!!!
I'm very excited about our new adventure!!

What a weekend!!!

Saturday morning I got up early and fed the dogs, then set about packing my backpack for the day. When I went outside, I was greeted with a fabulous sunrise...
... although my camera just never really seems to capture them very well. Just take my word for it, the colors were gorgeous!!
The air was cool, if not a bit humid. I loaded Olivia into the car and we headed to the Crescent Hill area of town about 15 miles away. It's an older section of Louisville, not an area I venture into very often unless on business. Crescent Hill was hosting it's annual 4th of July festival and to kick off the event, there was a 5k run/walk along Frankfort Avenue and some side streets.
Livvie was raring to go. We finished the race, which is more than I can say for a handful of people and at least one dog. They either dropped out altogether or took a short-cut and cheated, but I know they were behind us, they never passed us, and I never saw them cross the finish line. Fortunately, the day stayed overcast and I never had to put Olivia's mask on her to keep the sun out of her eyes.
We were back home by 9:30, she passed out and I went back to bed for a couple of hours. We were both exhausted.
It started to drizzle rain just after noon and continued to do so the rest of the day. I was hopeful this would keep the fireworks down to a minimum so my dogs wouldn't get frazzled. I was hopeful, but I was wrong.
I went out shopping in preparation of my upcoming riding lessons and purchased...
... a riding helmet. Periwinkle blue. Must remember to take a ballcap with me to put on after class as I'll have a horrible case of helmet-hair afterwards. **sigh**
If I were a teenage girl (and several inches shorter), I'd have been all ga-ga giggly over the young man that helped me pick out the helmet. He was cute as could be and had a wonderful sense of humor. And too, he was very helpful.
Sunday dawned as another drizzly day. The temps were cool so I wore jeans and my heavy boots with the thick soles to the farm instead of my usual attire of shorts and thin-soled light-weight boots. I feel like I'm walking with weights on my feet when I do wear them, but it turned out to be a good thing I had them on this day.
When I arrived at the farm, there was a new horse in one of the stalls. I stopped to look at him, not recognizing him as one from the existing herd. I flipped on the lights to get a better look. No, definitely a new horse. He was gorgeous!! Solid black. When the other worker arrived I asked who the new boy was.
The new horse's name is Lukah (Lukha?) and had just been donated to the center this past week. He is a Friesian and is just lovely. Of all the days for me to forget to take my camera to the farm! Hopefully I'll get pix next weekend.
Later that morning, three of us went out to get the four ponies. The ponies had been enjoying the cooler weather, running about and kicking up their heels all morning and were now down at the far end of their pasture, so we had to hike down the hill to get them. The long walk in those boots I was wearing wasn't much fun.
I haltered Pongo and led him over to Danny Boy and prepared to halter him. My two helpers were each trying to catch the remaining two ponies and not having much luck as those two like to be difficult and stir up trouble(the ponies, not the workers). Just as I was preparing to put the halter on Danny Boy, one of the helpers went walking past and slipped in the wet grass, startling Danny.
Both my ponies spooked, I managed to hold on to Pongo, but Danny startled so badly he stomped down on my right foot. I gasped and saw stars. I could hardly catch my breath as I fought back the tears. The guy who'd slipped was asking what he could do and all I could manage was "take Pongo" as I hobbled over to the fence to lean on it.
I could walk, nothing was broken, but it hurt like hell. Once I'd caught my breath and cleared away the tears, I haltered Danny and led him in and let them go back for the fourth pony. After I sat down and took my boot and sock off, I could see a crease in the top of my foot where the hoof had made an impression. I decided to call it a day and went straight home to prop it up and put an ice pack on it.
This morning, it's only slightly discolored and you can't really see the puffiness so much as you can feel it if you run your finger across the top of my foot. It's sore to the touch, but fortunately, nothing is broken. I'm very glad now I was wearing those heavier boots. If I'd had on the lighter ones and/or if it had been one of the bigger horses, the damage would've been much worse.
Now I have to ask myself, do I want to wear those clod-hopper boots at all times when working at the farm as I know they're more protective, or wear something more comfortable that doesn't offer up as muc protection? Decisions, decisions...



Thursday, July 02, 2009

Bucket list

We all have a bucket list of things we want to do before we die. I've got lots of things, some I've already accomplished, but many, many more are still waiting to be crossed off.
I've yet to see the movie "Bucket List", although I'd like to, so I guess I can add that to my own bucket list.

12 things on my bucket list (in no particular order):

1) Ride on horseback along a beach.
2) Go to Germany
3) Go to Italy
4) Go to Australia
5) Go to Alaska
6) Live in the country
7) Buy an RV (bigger than our pop-up) and travel the USA seeing each of the 48 contiguous(sp?) states and perhaps Canada
8) Get down to between 165-180 lbs. and stay there for more than a month, and not get there by way of illness.
9) Get involved with therapy pets*
10) Hand-sew a patchwork quilt**
11) Learn to dance, just one dance (besides the chicken-dance) and do it well, AND have my husband do it with me AND take it seriously (I've got a better chance of walking to Australia).
12) Invent something and get a patent on it

*okay, I've got the lady's business card in my purse w/her phone number, as soon as I finish this blog I'm calling her. Gotta take that first step!
**I did hand-sew a quilt last year and I sleep with it every night. It's not the prettiest of quilts, and that one area is somewhat messed up, but it serves its purpose. But I'd still like to sew another one that looks more presentable.

So what's on your bucket list?

A new adventure, and song of the day

After work yesterday, I made the trek out to the far eastern edge of J-town. I was headed to the farm of an acquaintance I'd made a few months earlier. She boards and teaches riding lessons. I'd spoken with her about possible taking lessons there, so yesterdays trip was just so I could find my way there and to look over the facilities.
It never fails to amaze me at the wide variances in barns/farms. From their structure both in design and material, to flooring, cleanliness (or lack there of), bedding material, lighting, air-flow, etc. etc.
While I'm still hoping to get worked into a Tuesday evening class (depends on whether the other student is willing to give up her private lesson), my first lesson will be private just so the instructor can evaluate my capabilities (or lack there of). I didn't get the chance last weekend to go helmet-shopping, so it's a must-do this weekend, as my first lesson is a week from today, on the 9th.
I'm excited!

In keeping with the horsey-theme, I'm including my song of the day, "Wildfire" by Michael Martin Murphy.