What a glorious freaking weekend!!
It is so hard to believe that this is the end of August and not mid-October, judging by the temperatures outside. Highs in the mid-70's, lows in the upper 50's. It's been freaking fantastic having the windows open all day and night, letting the house air out, and at night snuggling in bed with the flannel quilt I made last year.
The husband is due back later today from his week+ long vacation that he spent with his family. It's been somewhat of a vacation for me as well. Oh sure, I still had to go to work everyday, but I had only a fraction of the laundry to do, I got to sprawl in the middle of our bed every night (I'm now beginning to understand why so many older couple have twin beds, if not separate bedrooms), I got more sleep, and I never had to raise my voice. As my cell phone seldom rings anyway, it was very quiet around our home without both of his cell phones there to ring non-stop or fire pagers going off (*sigh*, yes, pagers as in plural. They're BOTH back. grrrr!!)
I did have to go in to work for about 3 hours on Saturday, which made up for the time I lost Thursday morning. I missed out on participating in a 5k this weekend which was the only down-side to it all.
Sunday, I worked out in the flower beds pulling weeds and dead fauna. A long over-due project, and one I didn't get done, but I worked as long as my back held out, and I managed to fill 6 giant bags. Then I got a really wild hair and went to Lowes and bought a gallon of paint, took it home and started painting the garage door, front door and my new wooden rocker. The shutters will have to wait 'til later in the week or next weekend. The rocker (actually, 2 rockers) we purchased last weekend on clearance, normally $100, marked down to $30. Bargain of the day, right? There were several colors to chose from, red, green, espresso (brown) or spa-blue. The blue was more of a green-blue, but the closest to matching our exterior, but in all honesty didn't match at all, thus the need to paint it to match the trim on the house.
I must get off here now and make a call to my chiropractor and get an appointment for later today.
Have a great week!!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Not one of my better days
Pitawoman ain't happy. And when Pita ain't happy...
Two or three weeks ago, I was asked if I could attend a special event on the morning of Aug. 25th at 10am. I requested the time off from work and confirmed with everyone involved that I would indeed be able to attend on the 25th.
Then, on the 20th, I got an email informing me that something had come up and they needed to re-schedule for the 27th, would I be able to come that day instead. I cleared it with my boss and re-arranged my schedule. I sent a reply to their email regarding the 27th and told them I'd see them at 10am on Thursday. I didn't say which date, as it was already mentioned in their email to me, "the 27th of August".
I slept in 45 minutes late and took my time getting ready this morning. I was to meet a lady at 9:30 in J-town and ride the rest of the way together. 9:30 came and went. Thinking perhaps she was caught in traffic, I went to call her and realized I didn't have her cell phone, so I called her house with the intention of getting her number from her husband (I just hoped he'd be there to answer). So imagine my surprise when she answered her home phone.
I was somewhat stunned to hear her voice on the line and I asked her if she was still planning on meeting me that morning. I was even more stunned when she said "no".
me: No? Why not?
her: It was changed to the 3rd of Sept. (next Thursday). Didn't anyone tell you?
me: Nooo.
By now I was starting to seethe with anger. Not at the woman I was speaking with, but at those that had organized this event. We talked for a few more minutes and then hung up. I then called the person in charge of the event. When she answered her phone she greeted me: Hey, how are ya?
me: Not too good.
her: Why? What's wrong?
me: I'm rather perturbed. I just talked to my friend and she informed me this thing was rescheduled to next week. I took the day off from work for this and I've been sitting here waiting.
her: What? all our calendars here have it down as the 3rd. I'm sure you were sent an email regarding the change.
me: The only email I got said it was changed from the 25th to the 27th.
her: But I'm sure you sent an email back to us confirming the change to the 3rd.
me: If I did, then I'm losing my mind. But I swear I don't remember any mention of that date.
Long story short, she kept insisting I had been informed and had confirmed. By now I seriously was doubting my sanity.
The conversation ended and I called my boss, asking him if I could go on and come in to work, despite being dressed in farm clothes. He was fine with that and I made it to the office right at 10am.
I started going back through the emails in my inbox and my sent-folder, reading all the communications I'd had with all persons involved for the past 2 weeks. No where in any of my folders was there an email mentioning it being changed to the 3rd. Now I realize that from time to time, emails that get sent don't always reach the intended recipient and are flying around out in cyber-space, yet to be delivered. I accept that maybe they did send one, but I never got it.
However, looking through all my sent-emails, at no time did I ever confirm to them that I knew about the date change to the 3rd. The only one I found was the confirmation of the 27th. At least now I knew I wasn't losing my mind, which was a small relief, but Pita still is unhappy. :(
I forwarded the email to the organizer, just to let her know I hadn't received anything further from her and asked that if for any reason the date should be changed again, to please call me on the phone. So what do I get in return? An email from her saying she was sorry for the confusion but that I could feel free to call them to confirm dates in the future.
WTF???
She dropped the ball but somehow this is supposed to be my fault?
Pita's not happy, and now I've got a pounding headache, no doubt brought on by the stress I'm feeling. I keep mentally counting to 10, trying to shake it off, but so far, it's not helping.
Calgon, take me away!!!
Two or three weeks ago, I was asked if I could attend a special event on the morning of Aug. 25th at 10am. I requested the time off from work and confirmed with everyone involved that I would indeed be able to attend on the 25th.
Then, on the 20th, I got an email informing me that something had come up and they needed to re-schedule for the 27th, would I be able to come that day instead. I cleared it with my boss and re-arranged my schedule. I sent a reply to their email regarding the 27th and told them I'd see them at 10am on Thursday. I didn't say which date, as it was already mentioned in their email to me, "the 27th of August".
I slept in 45 minutes late and took my time getting ready this morning. I was to meet a lady at 9:30 in J-town and ride the rest of the way together. 9:30 came and went. Thinking perhaps she was caught in traffic, I went to call her and realized I didn't have her cell phone, so I called her house with the intention of getting her number from her husband (I just hoped he'd be there to answer). So imagine my surprise when she answered her home phone.
I was somewhat stunned to hear her voice on the line and I asked her if she was still planning on meeting me that morning. I was even more stunned when she said "no".
me: No? Why not?
her: It was changed to the 3rd of Sept. (next Thursday). Didn't anyone tell you?
me: Nooo.
By now I was starting to seethe with anger. Not at the woman I was speaking with, but at those that had organized this event. We talked for a few more minutes and then hung up. I then called the person in charge of the event. When she answered her phone she greeted me: Hey, how are ya?
me: Not too good.
her: Why? What's wrong?
me: I'm rather perturbed. I just talked to my friend and she informed me this thing was rescheduled to next week. I took the day off from work for this and I've been sitting here waiting.
her: What? all our calendars here have it down as the 3rd. I'm sure you were sent an email regarding the change.
me: The only email I got said it was changed from the 25th to the 27th.
her: But I'm sure you sent an email back to us confirming the change to the 3rd.
me: If I did, then I'm losing my mind. But I swear I don't remember any mention of that date.
Long story short, she kept insisting I had been informed and had confirmed. By now I seriously was doubting my sanity.
The conversation ended and I called my boss, asking him if I could go on and come in to work, despite being dressed in farm clothes. He was fine with that and I made it to the office right at 10am.
I started going back through the emails in my inbox and my sent-folder, reading all the communications I'd had with all persons involved for the past 2 weeks. No where in any of my folders was there an email mentioning it being changed to the 3rd. Now I realize that from time to time, emails that get sent don't always reach the intended recipient and are flying around out in cyber-space, yet to be delivered. I accept that maybe they did send one, but I never got it.
However, looking through all my sent-emails, at no time did I ever confirm to them that I knew about the date change to the 3rd. The only one I found was the confirmation of the 27th. At least now I knew I wasn't losing my mind, which was a small relief, but Pita still is unhappy. :(
I forwarded the email to the organizer, just to let her know I hadn't received anything further from her and asked that if for any reason the date should be changed again, to please call me on the phone. So what do I get in return? An email from her saying she was sorry for the confusion but that I could feel free to call them to confirm dates in the future.
WTF???
She dropped the ball but somehow this is supposed to be my fault?
Pita's not happy, and now I've got a pounding headache, no doubt brought on by the stress I'm feeling. I keep mentally counting to 10, trying to shake it off, but so far, it's not helping.
Calgon, take me away!!!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The nose knows
My girls aren't exactly chummy. Livvie would gladly play with Bootsy, if only Bootsy would allow it. Bootsy tolerates Olivia, I think only because she knows I'd wring her neck if she ever turned on her. Of course every time Olivia has had one of her seizures in the middle of the night, it's always been Bootsy that has alerted us to Livvie's situation and then stayed close by, nipping at Livvie's rear as if trying to encourage her to snap out of it and get up.
We've always assumed that Bootsy alerted us only after Olivia started convulsing and making noises that also woke her up. But now I'm not so sure.
I've heard of, and read about, some dogs that could sense when their owner was about to have a seizure and would alert the person before it happened so that they could sit/lie down to avoid falling and injuring themselves. I'm now convinced Bootsy is one of those dogs.
It's believed that when a person (or in this case Olivia) is about to experience a seizure, their body releases a chemical (hormone, odor, whatever), and as dogs have such a great sense of smell, they can detect when the seizure is about to occur. In other words, the k-9's nose, knows.
There are different types and degrees of seizures...
Clonic - Characterized by repetitive, rhythmic jerking of limbs. These movements are seen on both sides of the body simultaneously.
Myoclonic - Non-rhythmic jerks resulting from involuntary muscle twitching. These seizures usually target the neck, shoulders, and upper arms. After the seizure, the patient may describe the sensation they experienced as brief electrical shocks.
Tonic - The patient's muscles stiffen and the full body becomes rigid including arms, legs, and torso. This type of seizure is usually limited to 20 seconds or less.
Atonic - The patient temporarily loses muscle tone. This is particularly problematic because a loss of leg strength often results in a fall and loss in neck control can result in damage to the head.
Generalized Tonic-Clonic (also called Grand Mal) - The patient loses consciousness likely resulting in a fall. The patient then enters the "tonic" phase in which the patient's muscles stiffen for 30 seconds to 1 minute. This is followed by the "clonic" phase of muscle jerking convulsions that affect the entire body for an additional 30 seconds to 1 minute. After this phase the patient may remain unconscious or be tired and confused. Common problems associated with tonic-clonic seizures are tongue biting, and loss of bladder and/or bowel control.
Absence (also called Petit Mal) - Typically characterized by brief episodes of abruptly stopping activity and blankly staring for up to 20 seconds. During this time the patient is unconscious of his or her environment or actions. It is likely that after a seizure the patient will be unaware that anything has happened except for the possible realization of "losing time". Additionally there is also an atypical absence seizure lasting up to 30 seconds in which the patients blink their eyes, jerk their lips, and lose some responsiveness. Absence seizures are mainly seen in children and adolescents.
Partial seizures affect a particular location in the brain, and are more common than general seizures in the epileptic population. This site of activity in the brain is referred to as the "focus" of the seizure.
Up until now, every seizure we've witnessed Olivia having was a Grand Mal.
Saturday afternoon, Bootsy went into her alert-mode. It was mid-day and as soon as I heard her carrying on, I jumped up and went running, expecting to find Olivia in convulsions. But instead, I found Livvie curled up, sound asleep in the recliner, but Bootsy continued to carry on. As Liv seemed to be asleep, I thought perhaps Bootsy was perhaps carrying on about something else, but she continued to stand in front of the chair, facing Olivia and pawing at the air in front of her. I asked Bootsy what was wrong and her pawing finally made contact with Olivia, waking her up. Olivia bolted out of the chair, hackles raised and seemed to be going after Bootsy. Bootsy backed off now that Olivia was awake, and after the briefest of moments, Olivia immediately calmed down and went right back to her chair.
I suppose it's entirely possible Olivia might've been having a "puppy-dream" and Bootsy was reacting to it, although all the dogs have puppy-dreams from time to time, and none of them ever react to any of the others when it happens, so I seriously doubt she'd do it now. No, I'm more convinced that one of two things was happening...
1) Livvie was having a very mild seizure, probably nothing I'd have even noticed had I been right there with her, but since her body would've been releasing the chemical odor, Bootsy smelled it and knew what was happening, alerting me and trying to bring Olivia out of it.
2) Perhaps Olivia was on the verge of having a Grand Mal and Bootsy sensed it, but as Livvie was disturbed suddenly before going into full convulsions, it perhaps somehow prevented or lessened the intensity of the seizure. I don't know enough about seizures to know if this is possible, but it's a guess on my part.
Last evening, it happened again. I was in one recliner, Livvie in the other, Bootsy was curled up on the dog cushions. Bootsy suddenly got up and went over to Olivia and started carrying on in the manner that she only seems to do when Olivia is in distress. I got up and went to Olivia and placed my hand on her and stroked her. At first she didn't seem to realize I was there, but finally raised her head and acknowledged me.
Yep, I'm convinced Olivia's seizures are happening far more often than we ever realized. I'm thankful that they aren't all Grand Mal's. And I'm especially thankful for having Bootsy there to watch over her sissy and alert us.
We've always assumed that Bootsy alerted us only after Olivia started convulsing and making noises that also woke her up. But now I'm not so sure.
I've heard of, and read about, some dogs that could sense when their owner was about to have a seizure and would alert the person before it happened so that they could sit/lie down to avoid falling and injuring themselves. I'm now convinced Bootsy is one of those dogs.
It's believed that when a person (or in this case Olivia) is about to experience a seizure, their body releases a chemical (hormone, odor, whatever), and as dogs have such a great sense of smell, they can detect when the seizure is about to occur. In other words, the k-9's nose, knows.
There are different types and degrees of seizures...
Clonic - Characterized by repetitive, rhythmic jerking of limbs. These movements are seen on both sides of the body simultaneously.
Myoclonic - Non-rhythmic jerks resulting from involuntary muscle twitching. These seizures usually target the neck, shoulders, and upper arms. After the seizure, the patient may describe the sensation they experienced as brief electrical shocks.
Tonic - The patient's muscles stiffen and the full body becomes rigid including arms, legs, and torso. This type of seizure is usually limited to 20 seconds or less.
Atonic - The patient temporarily loses muscle tone. This is particularly problematic because a loss of leg strength often results in a fall and loss in neck control can result in damage to the head.
Generalized Tonic-Clonic (also called Grand Mal) - The patient loses consciousness likely resulting in a fall. The patient then enters the "tonic" phase in which the patient's muscles stiffen for 30 seconds to 1 minute. This is followed by the "clonic" phase of muscle jerking convulsions that affect the entire body for an additional 30 seconds to 1 minute. After this phase the patient may remain unconscious or be tired and confused. Common problems associated with tonic-clonic seizures are tongue biting, and loss of bladder and/or bowel control.
Absence (also called Petit Mal) - Typically characterized by brief episodes of abruptly stopping activity and blankly staring for up to 20 seconds. During this time the patient is unconscious of his or her environment or actions. It is likely that after a seizure the patient will be unaware that anything has happened except for the possible realization of "losing time". Additionally there is also an atypical absence seizure lasting up to 30 seconds in which the patients blink their eyes, jerk their lips, and lose some responsiveness. Absence seizures are mainly seen in children and adolescents.
Partial seizures affect a particular location in the brain, and are more common than general seizures in the epileptic population. This site of activity in the brain is referred to as the "focus" of the seizure.
Up until now, every seizure we've witnessed Olivia having was a Grand Mal.
Saturday afternoon, Bootsy went into her alert-mode. It was mid-day and as soon as I heard her carrying on, I jumped up and went running, expecting to find Olivia in convulsions. But instead, I found Livvie curled up, sound asleep in the recliner, but Bootsy continued to carry on. As Liv seemed to be asleep, I thought perhaps Bootsy was perhaps carrying on about something else, but she continued to stand in front of the chair, facing Olivia and pawing at the air in front of her. I asked Bootsy what was wrong and her pawing finally made contact with Olivia, waking her up. Olivia bolted out of the chair, hackles raised and seemed to be going after Bootsy. Bootsy backed off now that Olivia was awake, and after the briefest of moments, Olivia immediately calmed down and went right back to her chair.
I suppose it's entirely possible Olivia might've been having a "puppy-dream" and Bootsy was reacting to it, although all the dogs have puppy-dreams from time to time, and none of them ever react to any of the others when it happens, so I seriously doubt she'd do it now. No, I'm more convinced that one of two things was happening...
1) Livvie was having a very mild seizure, probably nothing I'd have even noticed had I been right there with her, but since her body would've been releasing the chemical odor, Bootsy smelled it and knew what was happening, alerting me and trying to bring Olivia out of it.
2) Perhaps Olivia was on the verge of having a Grand Mal and Bootsy sensed it, but as Livvie was disturbed suddenly before going into full convulsions, it perhaps somehow prevented or lessened the intensity of the seizure. I don't know enough about seizures to know if this is possible, but it's a guess on my part.
Last evening, it happened again. I was in one recliner, Livvie in the other, Bootsy was curled up on the dog cushions. Bootsy suddenly got up and went over to Olivia and started carrying on in the manner that she only seems to do when Olivia is in distress. I got up and went to Olivia and placed my hand on her and stroked her. At first she didn't seem to realize I was there, but finally raised her head and acknowledged me.
Yep, I'm convinced Olivia's seizures are happening far more often than we ever realized. I'm thankful that they aren't all Grand Mal's. And I'm especially thankful for having Bootsy there to watch over her sissy and alert us.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Finally, technology paid off for me, $5.34 worth
I'm not a fan of high-tech cell-phones. I like a phone that I can make/receive phone calls on. I do like the extra perk(s) of a calendar, alarm clock, and address book on mine, but all the other gizmos I can do without. I don't play games, nor do I send/receive text messages, I don't check my email or listen to music via my phone. And as for the camera application, well, I can honestly live without it. I've only taken a few pix with mine and generally it's to attach to a phone number so when I receive an incoming call, that person's picture pops up. The one time I wanted to download a photo to include with a blog, I couldn't, so really, what purpose has the camera-phone served me?
Absolutely none!
That is, until now.
Saturday morning I stopped at Meijers as they had my much beloved diet Big Reds on sale. I loaded down my cart and grabbed a few more items while I was there that my preferred store doesn't carry. Even though Meijers hasn't had my Campbell's Fiesta Nacho Cheese soup in stock for quite some time, I thought I'd look once more. I truly wasn't expecting to find it, so imagine my delight when I found the slot full. Oh happy day!!
Normally I just buy the stuff without paying any attention to the price. I've never ever seen it on sale and generally it costs between $1.30 - $1.70, depending on which store I buy it at. A little pricey, I know, but it tastes sooo good. And it's not like we consume it on a daily or even weekly basis. Anyway, as I was reaching for the first can to place in my cart, I just happened to notice the price tag on the shelf said $1.00. Holy crap! That's a bargain and a half!!! I bent closer to read the tag more carefully, sure that I had misread it or that perhaps it was the label for a different flavor of soup. But no, it definitely was for my FNC variety. I had to restrain myself from buying every can on the shelf. As it was, I took 8 cans.
When I went to check out, I got in the self-serve aisle. I started scanning my groceries and when I got to my FNC, I noticed it was ringing up at 3 cans for $5 (meaning $1.66 or 67 per can). Um, that's not right. Trying to get assistance in the self-serve lane isn't always easy so I decided to finish paying for my order and take my receipt to the customer service desk.
This I did and told the girl behind the counter that the soup had rang up wrong. She scanned my receipt and announced the price to be 3 cans for $5.00. I told her I was pretty sure the label on the shelf said $1.00. She grabbed a store-ad and started flipping through the pages, looking for an ad. It wasn't in there. Next she turned to the computer and looked up the item. Again she announced to me: 3 cans for $5.00. By now I was getting perturbed. Heaven forbid she should get on her two-way radio and ask for someone from that department to go and check out the sign on the shelf. I grabbed up my receipt with a roll of my eyes and took my purchases to my car. When done, I turned around and marched back into the store and over to the soup aisle.
Maybe I had made a mistake, but then again...
I got to the soup aisle and again looked close at the tag and read it carefully. Campbells Nacho Fiesta Cheese soup, $1.00. Nope, I was right. I intended to peel the label off the shelf and take it to the customer service counter and demanding a refund of the difference. I tried peeling the label, but it was stuck under heavy Lucite that covered the front of the shelf. I tried lifting the Lucite off, but nearly took off a 6-foot piece of shelving in the process. By now I was grinding my teeth, growing more frustrated by the moment. Short of grabbing the girl by the hair, um, I mean hand and dragging her over to the shelf, how was I going to prove my case? Then I remember my camera-phone. A-ha! I might not be able to download the photo to share with you, but by golly I could take the photo and show it to Miss Customer Service, and that's just what I did.
When I got back to the counter and she greeted me with that syrupy "May I help you?", I just shoved the phone at her and said, "I told you the sign said $1.00". I handed her my receipt and she handed me back $5.34.
Now some of you may say I over-reacted. Some may say, "it was only .67 cents, get over it".
True, but multiple that .67 cents times every can they sell to all the other consumers and that adds up to a lot. I feel bad for all the other people that paid full price unnecessarily.
Most people have no idea how often they over-pay for items, nearly every single time they go to the grocery, and it adds up. I work just as hard for my money as the stores do for theirs.
Absolutely none!
That is, until now.
Saturday morning I stopped at Meijers as they had my much beloved diet Big Reds on sale. I loaded down my cart and grabbed a few more items while I was there that my preferred store doesn't carry. Even though Meijers hasn't had my Campbell's Fiesta Nacho Cheese soup in stock for quite some time, I thought I'd look once more. I truly wasn't expecting to find it, so imagine my delight when I found the slot full. Oh happy day!!
Normally I just buy the stuff without paying any attention to the price. I've never ever seen it on sale and generally it costs between $1.30 - $1.70, depending on which store I buy it at. A little pricey, I know, but it tastes sooo good. And it's not like we consume it on a daily or even weekly basis. Anyway, as I was reaching for the first can to place in my cart, I just happened to notice the price tag on the shelf said $1.00. Holy crap! That's a bargain and a half!!! I bent closer to read the tag more carefully, sure that I had misread it or that perhaps it was the label for a different flavor of soup. But no, it definitely was for my FNC variety. I had to restrain myself from buying every can on the shelf. As it was, I took 8 cans.
When I went to check out, I got in the self-serve aisle. I started scanning my groceries and when I got to my FNC, I noticed it was ringing up at 3 cans for $5 (meaning $1.66 or 67 per can). Um, that's not right. Trying to get assistance in the self-serve lane isn't always easy so I decided to finish paying for my order and take my receipt to the customer service desk.
This I did and told the girl behind the counter that the soup had rang up wrong. She scanned my receipt and announced the price to be 3 cans for $5.00. I told her I was pretty sure the label on the shelf said $1.00. She grabbed a store-ad and started flipping through the pages, looking for an ad. It wasn't in there. Next she turned to the computer and looked up the item. Again she announced to me: 3 cans for $5.00. By now I was getting perturbed. Heaven forbid she should get on her two-way radio and ask for someone from that department to go and check out the sign on the shelf. I grabbed up my receipt with a roll of my eyes and took my purchases to my car. When done, I turned around and marched back into the store and over to the soup aisle.
Maybe I had made a mistake, but then again...
I got to the soup aisle and again looked close at the tag and read it carefully. Campbells Nacho Fiesta Cheese soup, $1.00. Nope, I was right. I intended to peel the label off the shelf and take it to the customer service counter and demanding a refund of the difference. I tried peeling the label, but it was stuck under heavy Lucite that covered the front of the shelf. I tried lifting the Lucite off, but nearly took off a 6-foot piece of shelving in the process. By now I was grinding my teeth, growing more frustrated by the moment. Short of grabbing the girl by the hair, um, I mean hand and dragging her over to the shelf, how was I going to prove my case? Then I remember my camera-phone. A-ha! I might not be able to download the photo to share with you, but by golly I could take the photo and show it to Miss Customer Service, and that's just what I did.
When I got back to the counter and she greeted me with that syrupy "May I help you?", I just shoved the phone at her and said, "I told you the sign said $1.00". I handed her my receipt and she handed me back $5.34.
Now some of you may say I over-reacted. Some may say, "it was only .67 cents, get over it".
True, but multiple that .67 cents times every can they sell to all the other consumers and that adds up to a lot. I feel bad for all the other people that paid full price unnecessarily.
Most people have no idea how often they over-pay for items, nearly every single time they go to the grocery, and it adds up. I work just as hard for my money as the stores do for theirs.
Confessions of a linen junky
I tackled a long over due project at my house over the weekend. I cleaned out my linen closet.
My linen closet is small and cramped and over time it has become a hazard. Every time I would take a towel or pillowcase out, an avalanche of linens would come tumbling down upon me and I'd wad up those I'd caught and stuff them back in where ever I could manage to make them fit, thus contributing to the hazard. But is this any way to live? Well, if you're in my house, yes. But after a while, it does become annoying. And also, it was getting to the point I could never find anything I needed in there.
So after finishing several other chores Saturday morning, I removed every single item from the closet and started sorting them into piles. Pillow cases. Flat sheets. Fitted sheets. Hand towels. Wash rags. And what I refer to as "hair" towels. In case you're wondering why there isn't a bath towel category, it's because they (which most are actually bath sheets) are kept in another closet along with beach towels. Our linen closet is very small and these items take up waaay too much room. And, in case you're wondering what "hair towels" are, they are the ones that are much too large to be hand towels, yet much too small to be bath towels. They're the size that most hotels try to pass off as bath towels. I use these for towel-drying my hair, thus they are hair-towels.
Moving on...
I created a discard pile for the fingertip towels and crappy quality bedding. Can anybody tell me the purpose of a fingertip towel? It's too small to dry your hands on, unless you're a child, and they're so small they barely balance on a towel rack. And I hate having a towel lying next to the sink. Hate it, hate it, hate it! Nope, all fingertip towels must go. If anything, they'll become dog-slobber rags. As for the crappy quality bedding... that was a couple of pillow cases left over from a set someone had given us as a wedding present. The sheets had long ago been used for dog bedding (and long ago trashed). I hate poor quality bedding. It feels like you're sleeping on sandpaper. No thanks. I'd rather spend the money on the good stuff.
As I refolded the towels and wash clothes, I placed them in neat stacks on their very own shelf, then stuck a post-it note on the front of the shelf labeling where each item belonged. #1) to help remind me to keep it organized next time I put the laundry away and #2) so the husband knows I'm trying to develop a system other than disorganized living.
Now for the bigger project, the bedding. I'm a bedding junky. There, I've said it. Just saying it out loud and admitting you've got a problem is 1/2 the battle to over coming your addiction, right?
There is one bed in our house and it's a California-King. It's very difficult if not impossible to find sheets in the store to fit a California-King mattress. In all honesty, I've NEVER, ever found a set of California-King sheets even in a bedding store, so assuming they even make them, then I can't even imagine where you go to buy them. Makes me wonder why they make California-King sized beds considering how hard it is to get linens for them. Hmm, maybe they only sell them in California. As regular king-sized fitted sheets don't fit CA-K mattresses very well, I stopped buying them and instead just use a flat sheet on the mattress and tuck it in real good. Of course now I have all these fitted sheets that are of no use to me. Well, that's not entirely true. I always try (emphasis on try) to keep our recliners covered with a sheet to help keep the dog hair from accumulating on the chair. So this is what the fitted sheets are now being used for. I attempted to re-fold the fitted sheets and neatly stack them on the bottom shelf (aka: miscellaneous shelf), but "fitted sheets" and "neatly stacked" is somewhat of an oxymoron. I'm sorry, but once I've washed a fitted sheet for the first time, I find it literally impossible to fold again without looking like a wadded up jumble of fabric. So if anybody has any suggestions for me on how to properly fold a fitted sheet, I'm all ears!!
Once all the king sized sheets were put away, I was left with a few odd sheets. Okay, the polka-dotted ones are left-overs from my full-sized bed I had when I lived at home, but that bed is long gone. Put those sheets with the king-fitted to be used to cover furniture or whatever. The solid white sheets... Where did those come from? I've never, ever in my life purchased solid white sheets. Hate them. Those are for hotels. All my bedding is either a solid color or some kind of print, but no solid whites. I decided that these must've belonged to my in-laws and when we lived with my f-i-l for a couple of years they must've gotten mixed in with our stuff. It was the only thing I could think of. They too went on to the miscellaneous shelf. The two sets of twin sheets I found must've been from the day-bed we briefly had. My sister took it several years ago. I set those sheets aside to give to her, if nothing else, maybe they'd fit her boys' beds.
Now for the really hard part, the pillow cases.
I'm a pillow freak. Without even realizing it, I collect pillows. Even though we've purchased new pillows every few years, for reasons I'm not sure of, we've never managed to throw out the old ones. They seem to be multiplying like rabbits. There are 14 pillows on our bed and that doesn't even count the ones in our front bedroom that we used when we went camping, nor does it count the 4 pillows I keep in my car (don't ask!). Having 14 pillows on a bed means that the linens never match or even co-ordinate. Even as I was sorting all the cases out the other day, I was thinking how Joanna over at the Fifty Factor would probably be cringing at the very idea of uncoordinated bedding, and you can forget about it ever being ironed!! Heck, most of my labels state "no iron".
The king-sized pillow cases were easy enough to pick out. I re-folded and stacked them neatly. Then as I started sifting through the others I started to notice varying sizes. I held several up together and realized some varied by several inches. What gives? They weren't long enough to be king. I looked at the labels. Queen size! What was I doing with queen size? I've never had a queen sized bed. Did I have queen sized pillows? ~Sigh~ This just caused me to create yet another stack on the shelf.
I even stripped all the pillows of their cases and washed them (even though I'd just put them on a few days ago). Once I had ALL of my pillow cases folded and stacked together, I went and looked at the pillows on our bed. Again, the kings were easy enough to pick out and set aside. But geesh, what an array of others. And where I'd washed some of the pillows in the clothes washer over the years, they were seriously lumpy and mis-shapen, (and still I hold on to them?). I looked at the labels, not one of them stated if it was a standard or queen size. All they gave were the dimensions of the pillow. Grrr! 19x26, 20x26, 20x30. Okay, so I'm guessing the 20x30 is the queen sized. Garsh, didn't realize I had queen-sized pillows. But two different sizes of standard pillows? hmph! I grabbed a permanent marker and wrote on the labels either an "S" "Q" and then assessed how many of each I had on the bed and how many of each sized case I would need. I did my best to match things up so they looked somewhat co-ordinated.
My pillows in the car got the single, odds and ends cases that didn't match anything else. I've got a lot of odds and ends pieces in the sheet-department. Whenever we go to Pigeon Forge I always hit the bedding store which sells those odds and ends, mis-sewn or mis-cut items. They're still a good quality fabric and they still serve their purpose.
When I finished with the linen closet I stood back and admired my organization. I should've taken a before and after picture. I realized the enormous amount of flat sheets I owned. What does one couple need 30 flat sheets for? Now actually seeing how many I really owned, I told myself there was absolutely NO reason to purchase any more bedding for the next umpteen years. And I was proud of myself for having created a discard pile. Indeed, this linen-junky has taken her first step towards recovery. Now if I can only bring myself to discard some pillows.
My linen closet is small and cramped and over time it has become a hazard. Every time I would take a towel or pillowcase out, an avalanche of linens would come tumbling down upon me and I'd wad up those I'd caught and stuff them back in where ever I could manage to make them fit, thus contributing to the hazard. But is this any way to live? Well, if you're in my house, yes. But after a while, it does become annoying. And also, it was getting to the point I could never find anything I needed in there.
So after finishing several other chores Saturday morning, I removed every single item from the closet and started sorting them into piles. Pillow cases. Flat sheets. Fitted sheets. Hand towels. Wash rags. And what I refer to as "hair" towels. In case you're wondering why there isn't a bath towel category, it's because they (which most are actually bath sheets) are kept in another closet along with beach towels. Our linen closet is very small and these items take up waaay too much room. And, in case you're wondering what "hair towels" are, they are the ones that are much too large to be hand towels, yet much too small to be bath towels. They're the size that most hotels try to pass off as bath towels. I use these for towel-drying my hair, thus they are hair-towels.
Moving on...
I created a discard pile for the fingertip towels and crappy quality bedding. Can anybody tell me the purpose of a fingertip towel? It's too small to dry your hands on, unless you're a child, and they're so small they barely balance on a towel rack. And I hate having a towel lying next to the sink. Hate it, hate it, hate it! Nope, all fingertip towels must go. If anything, they'll become dog-slobber rags. As for the crappy quality bedding... that was a couple of pillow cases left over from a set someone had given us as a wedding present. The sheets had long ago been used for dog bedding (and long ago trashed). I hate poor quality bedding. It feels like you're sleeping on sandpaper. No thanks. I'd rather spend the money on the good stuff.
As I refolded the towels and wash clothes, I placed them in neat stacks on their very own shelf, then stuck a post-it note on the front of the shelf labeling where each item belonged. #1) to help remind me to keep it organized next time I put the laundry away and #2) so the husband knows I'm trying to develop a system other than disorganized living.
Now for the bigger project, the bedding. I'm a bedding junky. There, I've said it. Just saying it out loud and admitting you've got a problem is 1/2 the battle to over coming your addiction, right?
There is one bed in our house and it's a California-King. It's very difficult if not impossible to find sheets in the store to fit a California-King mattress. In all honesty, I've NEVER, ever found a set of California-King sheets even in a bedding store, so assuming they even make them, then I can't even imagine where you go to buy them. Makes me wonder why they make California-King sized beds considering how hard it is to get linens for them. Hmm, maybe they only sell them in California. As regular king-sized fitted sheets don't fit CA-K mattresses very well, I stopped buying them and instead just use a flat sheet on the mattress and tuck it in real good. Of course now I have all these fitted sheets that are of no use to me. Well, that's not entirely true. I always try (emphasis on try) to keep our recliners covered with a sheet to help keep the dog hair from accumulating on the chair. So this is what the fitted sheets are now being used for. I attempted to re-fold the fitted sheets and neatly stack them on the bottom shelf (aka: miscellaneous shelf), but "fitted sheets" and "neatly stacked" is somewhat of an oxymoron. I'm sorry, but once I've washed a fitted sheet for the first time, I find it literally impossible to fold again without looking like a wadded up jumble of fabric. So if anybody has any suggestions for me on how to properly fold a fitted sheet, I'm all ears!!
Once all the king sized sheets were put away, I was left with a few odd sheets. Okay, the polka-dotted ones are left-overs from my full-sized bed I had when I lived at home, but that bed is long gone. Put those sheets with the king-fitted to be used to cover furniture or whatever. The solid white sheets... Where did those come from? I've never, ever in my life purchased solid white sheets. Hate them. Those are for hotels. All my bedding is either a solid color or some kind of print, but no solid whites. I decided that these must've belonged to my in-laws and when we lived with my f-i-l for a couple of years they must've gotten mixed in with our stuff. It was the only thing I could think of. They too went on to the miscellaneous shelf. The two sets of twin sheets I found must've been from the day-bed we briefly had. My sister took it several years ago. I set those sheets aside to give to her, if nothing else, maybe they'd fit her boys' beds.
Now for the really hard part, the pillow cases.
I'm a pillow freak. Without even realizing it, I collect pillows. Even though we've purchased new pillows every few years, for reasons I'm not sure of, we've never managed to throw out the old ones. They seem to be multiplying like rabbits. There are 14 pillows on our bed and that doesn't even count the ones in our front bedroom that we used when we went camping, nor does it count the 4 pillows I keep in my car (don't ask!). Having 14 pillows on a bed means that the linens never match or even co-ordinate. Even as I was sorting all the cases out the other day, I was thinking how Joanna over at the Fifty Factor would probably be cringing at the very idea of uncoordinated bedding, and you can forget about it ever being ironed!! Heck, most of my labels state "no iron".
The king-sized pillow cases were easy enough to pick out. I re-folded and stacked them neatly. Then as I started sifting through the others I started to notice varying sizes. I held several up together and realized some varied by several inches. What gives? They weren't long enough to be king. I looked at the labels. Queen size! What was I doing with queen size? I've never had a queen sized bed. Did I have queen sized pillows? ~Sigh~ This just caused me to create yet another stack on the shelf.
I even stripped all the pillows of their cases and washed them (even though I'd just put them on a few days ago). Once I had ALL of my pillow cases folded and stacked together, I went and looked at the pillows on our bed. Again, the kings were easy enough to pick out and set aside. But geesh, what an array of others. And where I'd washed some of the pillows in the clothes washer over the years, they were seriously lumpy and mis-shapen, (and still I hold on to them?). I looked at the labels, not one of them stated if it was a standard or queen size. All they gave were the dimensions of the pillow. Grrr! 19x26, 20x26, 20x30. Okay, so I'm guessing the 20x30 is the queen sized. Garsh, didn't realize I had queen-sized pillows. But two different sizes of standard pillows? hmph! I grabbed a permanent marker and wrote on the labels either an "S" "Q" and then assessed how many of each I had on the bed and how many of each sized case I would need. I did my best to match things up so they looked somewhat co-ordinated.
My pillows in the car got the single, odds and ends cases that didn't match anything else. I've got a lot of odds and ends pieces in the sheet-department. Whenever we go to Pigeon Forge I always hit the bedding store which sells those odds and ends, mis-sewn or mis-cut items. They're still a good quality fabric and they still serve their purpose.
When I finished with the linen closet I stood back and admired my organization. I should've taken a before and after picture. I realized the enormous amount of flat sheets I owned. What does one couple need 30 flat sheets for? Now actually seeing how many I really owned, I told myself there was absolutely NO reason to purchase any more bedding for the next umpteen years. And I was proud of myself for having created a discard pile. Indeed, this linen-junky has taken her first step towards recovery. Now if I can only bring myself to discard some pillows.
Friday, August 21, 2009
More on the Titer Test
I spoke with a neutral veterinarian last week. Neutral meaning I've never taken any of my fur-babies to her before, had never met her before last week, and she had nothing to gain/lose from talking to me. While she personally doesn't administer Titer Tests, she did give me the name of a vet in Simpsonville that does perform them.
Titers does check the animal's resistance level to other things besides rabies.
She couldn't guarantee me that Jefferson County would accept a Titers Test in place of proof of current vaccination, but did agree that in Olivia's case, what with her having seizures, that it would be in her best interest if she could get the test and avoid further vaccinations, so hopefully J.C. will accept that.
In all honesty, I due feel that vaccinations are generally a good thing that protect our pets and keep them healthy. Is there a chance they'll develop cancer from the vaccines? Sure there is. There's also a chance they'll develop cancer from the water they drink, the food the eat, the air they breath. There's a chance they could get hit by a car, a stray bullet, or a bolt of lightening. There is also the chance they could live a long and healthy life, free of disease, 'til they reach a ripe old age and die peacefully in their sleep. Life is full of chances. Some good. Some bad.
As I said, for the most part, I'm all for vaccines. I'll continue to get my other dogs & cats vaccinated, as they are all healthy. If not for Olivia's seizure disorder, I would continue to get her vaccinated also. But considering what we're dealing with here, I'dlike to fore go her vaccinations in the future.
The vet did point out one of the hazards of not getting her (or any of them for that matter) vaccinated... should she happen to bite someone, then she'd have to be seized, quarantined and tested for rabies, and I run a greater risk of being sued and fined. But don't get me started on that subject!
So for now, as Olivia is current on her vaccinations, I can put this off 'til long about next June.
Titers does check the animal's resistance level to other things besides rabies.
She couldn't guarantee me that Jefferson County would accept a Titers Test in place of proof of current vaccination, but did agree that in Olivia's case, what with her having seizures, that it would be in her best interest if she could get the test and avoid further vaccinations, so hopefully J.C. will accept that.
In all honesty, I due feel that vaccinations are generally a good thing that protect our pets and keep them healthy. Is there a chance they'll develop cancer from the vaccines? Sure there is. There's also a chance they'll develop cancer from the water they drink, the food the eat, the air they breath. There's a chance they could get hit by a car, a stray bullet, or a bolt of lightening. There is also the chance they could live a long and healthy life, free of disease, 'til they reach a ripe old age and die peacefully in their sleep. Life is full of chances. Some good. Some bad.
As I said, for the most part, I'm all for vaccines. I'll continue to get my other dogs & cats vaccinated, as they are all healthy. If not for Olivia's seizure disorder, I would continue to get her vaccinated also. But considering what we're dealing with here, I'dlike to fore go her vaccinations in the future.
The vet did point out one of the hazards of not getting her (or any of them for that matter) vaccinated... should she happen to bite someone, then she'd have to be seized, quarantined and tested for rabies, and I run a greater risk of being sued and fined. But don't get me started on that subject!
So for now, as Olivia is current on her vaccinations, I can put this off 'til long about next June.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Crying time
Sunday afternoon I was being lazy and had just finished watching a movie on tv (can't even remember now what it was). There didn't seem to be much else of interest coming on any of the other channels, so I left it where it was and started watching the next movie that was coming on. I'd seen a few minutes of the movie a couple of times before (apparently the same few minutes both times), but had never seen it all the way through from start to finish to know what the movie was really about.
While the story was somewhat predictable and I had it figured out in the first 1/2 hour, I still enjoyed watching the whole thing, even if it did have me sobbing like a baby for all of the last hour. I couldn't begin to tell you how many Kleenex I went through. During that last hour, I started getting restless, not wanting to watch, yet unable to turn away. I compromised by grabbing a damp cleaning rag and a bottle of 409 and started wiping down the dirty walls, trying to remove some of the dried dog slobber while I stayed where I could watch/listen to the movie. I stood on the dogs' cushions while I scrubbed, them lying all about my feet, my tears falling on their heads as I sobbed uncontrollably.
When the movie went off, I stopped scrubbing and sat down in my chair. I had turned the channel, but had no idea what I was watching, as my mind was still on the movie. John finally arrived home late that afternoon and although my tears had long since dried, he knew immediately that I'd been crying. He asked what was wrong and I couldn't even answer him without busting out in tears once more.
Later that evening, we sat side by side on the swing out in the side yard, eating our dinner in silence. My mind still dwelled on the movie. I finally blurted out to John that I was sorry if I'd been a bad wife, sorry for all the nagging, sorry for being a miserable house keeper, sorry for this, sorry for that, but that I really did love him.
He asked what brought all that on and I told him "the movie" and immediately started crying again. He laughed at me and said, "that must be quite a movie if it's making you cry this many hours after watching it".
So why all the tears?
Was it because it was such a poignant movie?
Was it because it made me feel like a miserable wife, married to a good man?
Or was I perhaps just being hormonal, in need of a good cry to cleanse the system?
Maybe a little bit of all the above.
Okay, so if you ever want to watch a good movie, albeit a tear-jerker, watch "The Notebook", starring Ryan Gossland(sp?), Rachel McAdams & James Garner.
While the story was somewhat predictable and I had it figured out in the first 1/2 hour, I still enjoyed watching the whole thing, even if it did have me sobbing like a baby for all of the last hour. I couldn't begin to tell you how many Kleenex I went through. During that last hour, I started getting restless, not wanting to watch, yet unable to turn away. I compromised by grabbing a damp cleaning rag and a bottle of 409 and started wiping down the dirty walls, trying to remove some of the dried dog slobber while I stayed where I could watch/listen to the movie. I stood on the dogs' cushions while I scrubbed, them lying all about my feet, my tears falling on their heads as I sobbed uncontrollably.
When the movie went off, I stopped scrubbing and sat down in my chair. I had turned the channel, but had no idea what I was watching, as my mind was still on the movie. John finally arrived home late that afternoon and although my tears had long since dried, he knew immediately that I'd been crying. He asked what was wrong and I couldn't even answer him without busting out in tears once more.
Later that evening, we sat side by side on the swing out in the side yard, eating our dinner in silence. My mind still dwelled on the movie. I finally blurted out to John that I was sorry if I'd been a bad wife, sorry for all the nagging, sorry for being a miserable house keeper, sorry for this, sorry for that, but that I really did love him.
He asked what brought all that on and I told him "the movie" and immediately started crying again. He laughed at me and said, "that must be quite a movie if it's making you cry this many hours after watching it".
So why all the tears?
Was it because it was such a poignant movie?
Was it because it made me feel like a miserable wife, married to a good man?
Or was I perhaps just being hormonal, in need of a good cry to cleanse the system?
Maybe a little bit of all the above.
Okay, so if you ever want to watch a good movie, albeit a tear-jerker, watch "The Notebook", starring Ryan Gossland(sp?), Rachel McAdams & James Garner.
Taking a break
This weekends 5k event is being held at the Creasy-Mahan Nature Preserve in Goshen. I'd never been there before and wondered what the race-course would be like. As I only finally was able to acquire an entry form this past weekend, I obviously hadn't pre-registered for the event. I'm glad now that I hadn't!
Monday evening, after we'd returned from the grocery store, we loaded Olivia in the car and went for a drive out to Goshen. I wanted to see what the course was like. The small parking area was packed, but we managed to find an open spot. I was surprised to find a small branch of the Oldham Co. library located there as well.
The nature preserve was very pretty, well maintained, and I though a nice place to hold an out-door wedding or a family reunion. There were soccer fields, walking trails and a play ground.
But the pretty scenery aside, I took one look around and said, "Uh-uh, no way. I think I'll skip this event." It was hilly beyond belief! If I thought the Peggy-Baker 5k was hilly, or the one I did this past weekend was hilly, those were nothing compared to this. I don't mind a slight incline or slope here and there, but steep hills and nothing but steep hills? Nope. Not doing it.
I'll sit this one out.
Ah well, that's okay, I really do have a lot of other things I need to get done and having a freed up Saturday morning will help immensely. My car is way past-due for an oil change and tune-up. Bootsy has an appointment at the vet for her yearly check-up, and as the husband is leaving town on Sunday, I really need to get all the laundry done before then.
It is a shame though, the weather is s'posed to be absolutely gorgeous, high temps only in the mid-70's. Maybe I'll get my butt outside and pull some weeds from my much neglected flower beds. John did mention lighting a fire in the outdoor fireplace Saturday evening, so maybe I'll even get the patio furniture scrubbed down too.
Monday evening, after we'd returned from the grocery store, we loaded Olivia in the car and went for a drive out to Goshen. I wanted to see what the course was like. The small parking area was packed, but we managed to find an open spot. I was surprised to find a small branch of the Oldham Co. library located there as well.
The nature preserve was very pretty, well maintained, and I though a nice place to hold an out-door wedding or a family reunion. There were soccer fields, walking trails and a play ground.
But the pretty scenery aside, I took one look around and said, "Uh-uh, no way. I think I'll skip this event." It was hilly beyond belief! If I thought the Peggy-Baker 5k was hilly, or the one I did this past weekend was hilly, those were nothing compared to this. I don't mind a slight incline or slope here and there, but steep hills and nothing but steep hills? Nope. Not doing it.
I'll sit this one out.
Ah well, that's okay, I really do have a lot of other things I need to get done and having a freed up Saturday morning will help immensely. My car is way past-due for an oil change and tune-up. Bootsy has an appointment at the vet for her yearly check-up, and as the husband is leaving town on Sunday, I really need to get all the laundry done before then.
It is a shame though, the weather is s'posed to be absolutely gorgeous, high temps only in the mid-70's. Maybe I'll get my butt outside and pull some weeds from my much neglected flower beds. John did mention lighting a fire in the outdoor fireplace Saturday evening, so maybe I'll even get the patio furniture scrubbed down too.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
A pain in the Nugget
Last nights riding lesson found me on Nugget. John had already been used once earlier in the day, so I decided to let him rest and once again braved the bouncy Nugget.
I don't know if it's me, the horse, a combination of both, or just dumb coincidence, but both times I've ridden him, I come away from there hurting something awful. Last night was a 4-ibuprofen night with ice-pack chasers on my knees.
Horseback riding shouldn't be painful (unless you fall off or get thrown off). Perhaps if you've not ridden in a long time, then sure, you might be a bit achy or have some sore muscles. But this is week 7 for me, and it's not sore muscles, it's aching joints. My knees hurt so bad by the time I got to my car, I wanted to cry.
Somethings not right.
I think next week I'll ask for a different horse and see how I feel, then the week afterwards ask for John again. If I'm only feeling pain when I'm on Nugget, then I think I'll avoid him in the future. Or if John is the only one I don't come away from hurting, then I think I'll ask to remain on him.
On a different note...
Let me just say, that this is NOT the correct way to put a halter on a horse...
but he did look kinda cute that way.
I don't know if it's me, the horse, a combination of both, or just dumb coincidence, but both times I've ridden him, I come away from there hurting something awful. Last night was a 4-ibuprofen night with ice-pack chasers on my knees.
Horseback riding shouldn't be painful (unless you fall off or get thrown off). Perhaps if you've not ridden in a long time, then sure, you might be a bit achy or have some sore muscles. But this is week 7 for me, and it's not sore muscles, it's aching joints. My knees hurt so bad by the time I got to my car, I wanted to cry.
Somethings not right.
I think next week I'll ask for a different horse and see how I feel, then the week afterwards ask for John again. If I'm only feeling pain when I'm on Nugget, then I think I'll avoid him in the future. Or if John is the only one I don't come away from hurting, then I think I'll ask to remain on him.
On a different note...
Let me just say, that this is NOT the correct way to put a halter on a horse...
but he did look kinda cute that way.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
It's TUESDAY!!!
It's TUESDAY!!! You know what that means... Riding Lessons tonight! Woo-Hoo!!!
Once upon a time in my life, it seemed as if the only day I ever looked forward to was payday. Or perhaps the end of work on Friday so that I would have the weekend ahead of me to do... nothing.
A couple of years ago, I started looking forward to Saturdays as that's when I started volunteering at the Luci Ctr. Then I switched to Sundays, so that became my new favorite day.
Now my life stays so full and busy...
I still look forward to my Sundays.
But now I look forward to Tuesdays because of my riding lessons.
And I once again look forward to Saturdays because that's basically my designated walking-event/quality-time-with-Olivia day.
Payday and any other good things that happen to occur through the week are just a bonus!
The husband is on vacation next week, going to spend it with his family out of town. This is his extra week that I don't have off with him. I've got the week to myself. Just me and the 4-legged kids. Only downside (and I'm not real happy about this), he'll be gone on both of our anniversary dates. **pout** On the other hand, maybe his being out of my hair for a week is his present to me. Hmmmm...
It's been a while since I added a song-of-the-day, so here's a classic from Ray Stevens. "Everything is Beautiful"
Once upon a time in my life, it seemed as if the only day I ever looked forward to was payday. Or perhaps the end of work on Friday so that I would have the weekend ahead of me to do... nothing.
A couple of years ago, I started looking forward to Saturdays as that's when I started volunteering at the Luci Ctr. Then I switched to Sundays, so that became my new favorite day.
Now my life stays so full and busy...
I still look forward to my Sundays.
But now I look forward to Tuesdays because of my riding lessons.
And I once again look forward to Saturdays because that's basically my designated walking-event/quality-time-with-Olivia day.
Payday and any other good things that happen to occur through the week are just a bonus!
The husband is on vacation next week, going to spend it with his family out of town. This is his extra week that I don't have off with him. I've got the week to myself. Just me and the 4-legged kids. Only downside (and I'm not real happy about this), he'll be gone on both of our anniversary dates. **pout** On the other hand, maybe his being out of my hair for a week is his present to me. Hmmmm...
It's been a while since I added a song-of-the-day, so here's a classic from Ray Stevens. "Everything is Beautiful"
Name-calling
What's in a name?
What is a name?
Name it!
My name is...
"Name". Such an odd sounding word. Short and sweet, yet it can mean so much.
Each and every one of us has a name. We have the name we were given at birth. We have the myriad of nicknames we've acquired in our lifetime, given to us by family & friends for a variety of reasons, and we have our everyday-name that we go by that identifies us to our peers.
All businesses have names too. Yes, there are "chains" which can make a place seem less than individual. Many of those businesses have a legal name that is printed on their business licenses, yet they go by a different name, a "dba" or "doing business as" name.
For example, the cemetery here in town is known to everyone as & the sign on the gate reads: Valley of Rest Cemetery. But it's legal name is LaGrange Cemetery Company.
If you're going to be buried somewhere, who wants the info handed down in history that they were buried in the LaGrange Cemetery Company? Sounds rather depressing and cold. Valley of Rest sounds more inviting, comforting and peaceful, doesn't it?
The place I work at, it's name is a merger of two individuals, one having sold out to the other, and neither of which owns the company anymore. My place of work has a long-standing history in this little town, and so most of the town's long-time residents still refer to it by the original owner's name. Typically, when we answer the phone or refer to our place of business, we join the two last names together, as it's easier to say than trying to say the whole long first name, middle initial, two last names and funeral home that comes after it, that make up the legal name
on the business license, stationary and what-not. Hmph! Things are a changin' !
Some nimrod ordered a new sign for out business a few years ago from a place in Texas (couldn't find a sign-maker closer to home??). Some nimrod gave the sign-maker the unofficial "dba" name, stuck a hyphen between the names that shouldn't have been there, and added some other wording to put on the sign, thinking it would help advertise our services, not thinking about the legal ramifications down the road.
When the new sign was put up 5 or 6 years ago, I didn't like it. #1, it faces the road instead of facing the flow of traffic, which makes it difficult to see until you're right in front of it. #2 it looks like a big plastic headstone (ugly!) #3 it's just too wordy #4 the extra info after our name, while it's technically true, to me personally, the way it's worded makes it seem like false advertising. But hey, I'm just the office manager, what I think doesn't matter.
So here we are 5 or 6 years later and somebody at the corporate office is just now noticing that the sign doesn't match what's on our business license. **gasp**
So instead of getting a new sign, which would cost $3grand, they decide to change the name of the business to legally match the sign. This means getting a new business license issued, ordering all new stationary, envelopes, business cards for 6 employees, rubber stamps, receipt books, changing all advertising in the newspapers, on all give-away items, calendars, pens, nametags, contracts, etc. etc. etc. Honestly, I'm thinking it would be easier and cheaper in the long run to replace the sign! Think of all the crap that's going in the landfill all because of one nimrod!!
And that's just this location. Multiply that by several hundred locations around the USA.
Ridiculous or what??
What is a name?
Name it!
My name is...
"Name". Such an odd sounding word. Short and sweet, yet it can mean so much.
Each and every one of us has a name. We have the name we were given at birth. We have the myriad of nicknames we've acquired in our lifetime, given to us by family & friends for a variety of reasons, and we have our everyday-name that we go by that identifies us to our peers.
All businesses have names too. Yes, there are "chains" which can make a place seem less than individual. Many of those businesses have a legal name that is printed on their business licenses, yet they go by a different name, a "dba" or "doing business as" name.
For example, the cemetery here in town is known to everyone as & the sign on the gate reads: Valley of Rest Cemetery. But it's legal name is LaGrange Cemetery Company.
If you're going to be buried somewhere, who wants the info handed down in history that they were buried in the LaGrange Cemetery Company? Sounds rather depressing and cold. Valley of Rest sounds more inviting, comforting and peaceful, doesn't it?
The place I work at, it's name is a merger of two individuals, one having sold out to the other, and neither of which owns the company anymore. My place of work has a long-standing history in this little town, and so most of the town's long-time residents still refer to it by the original owner's name. Typically, when we answer the phone or refer to our place of business, we join the two last names together, as it's easier to say than trying to say the whole long first name, middle initial, two last names and funeral home that comes after it, that make up the legal name
on the business license, stationary and what-not. Hmph! Things are a changin' !
Some nimrod ordered a new sign for out business a few years ago from a place in Texas (couldn't find a sign-maker closer to home??). Some nimrod gave the sign-maker the unofficial "dba" name, stuck a hyphen between the names that shouldn't have been there, and added some other wording to put on the sign, thinking it would help advertise our services, not thinking about the legal ramifications down the road.
When the new sign was put up 5 or 6 years ago, I didn't like it. #1, it faces the road instead of facing the flow of traffic, which makes it difficult to see until you're right in front of it. #2 it looks like a big plastic headstone (ugly!) #3 it's just too wordy #4 the extra info after our name, while it's technically true, to me personally, the way it's worded makes it seem like false advertising. But hey, I'm just the office manager, what I think doesn't matter.
So here we are 5 or 6 years later and somebody at the corporate office is just now noticing that the sign doesn't match what's on our business license. **gasp**
So instead of getting a new sign, which would cost $3grand, they decide to change the name of the business to legally match the sign. This means getting a new business license issued, ordering all new stationary, envelopes, business cards for 6 employees, rubber stamps, receipt books, changing all advertising in the newspapers, on all give-away items, calendars, pens, nametags, contracts, etc. etc. etc. Honestly, I'm thinking it would be easier and cheaper in the long run to replace the sign! Think of all the crap that's going in the landfill all because of one nimrod!!
And that's just this location. Multiply that by several hundred locations around the USA.
Ridiculous or what??
Monday, August 17, 2009
Keeping me in stitches
Don't be fooled by the title of the post "Keeping me in stitches"... doesn't mean something has been making me laugh non-stop. Quite the contrary. And quite literally, I'm in stitches, or rather, stitches are in me.
Had an appointment at the derma-dox office Friday evening, just for a check-up. Or so I thought. grumble, grumble By the time I left, she'd removed a spot on my back and on my leg, and put stitches in both. The spot on my back has been starting to itch today, and the one on my leg has been hurting off and on.
Of course the leg is easier for me to tend to, I need John's help with the other one. Don't know what I'll do tomorrow after he returns to work.
It's heck to get old. :(
Had an appointment at the derma-dox office Friday evening, just for a check-up. Or so I thought. grumble, grumble By the time I left, she'd removed a spot on my back and on my leg, and put stitches in both. The spot on my back has been starting to itch today, and the one on my leg has been hurting off and on.
Of course the leg is easier for me to tend to, I need John's help with the other one. Don't know what I'll do tomorrow after he returns to work.
It's heck to get old. :(
Friday, August 14, 2009
(re?)connecting with the past
A few weeks ago I blogged about how I'd just found out that my (step)great-grandmother had passed away in Oct. of '08 and nobody had bothered to notify me. I hadn't seen her since shortly after my great-grandfather passed away in November of 1972. For whatever reason, apparently all my relatives dismissed her from their lives, so what control would this (then) 4 year old child have had in the situation? None.
Even though Eddie Mae was technically my step-great-grandmother, she was to me, as far as I was concerned, my actual great-grandmother. I never knew my biological g-gma, pictured here...
These are my father's, father's, father & mother, Grace & Herschel.
She passed away when my dad was a child. Grandpa Deutsch (that's what we all refer to him as) eventually re-married, to Eddie Mae.
So as I've said, I haven't seen Eddie Mae in over 35 years. When I found out recently she'd passed away a few months ago, I was less than happy that nobody had informed me. I gave it some thought for a few days and then made a bold move. I stepped waaaay out of my comfort zone and wrote a letter to a perfect stranger.
Using some info I'd found in her obituary, I looked up on the internet the address to one of her daughters. I wrote to her, telling her who I was and asking if she had any photos of my g-gpa that I could have or at least borrow to make copies.
One Sunday evening I got a phone call. I didn't recognize the number on the caller-id, and normally I'd ignore such a call, but this time I answered it, and was very glad I had. It was Eddie Mae's daughter, Norma, the great-aunt I never knew I had.
Norma lives only a few miles from me, yet we've never met. We chit-chatted for a while and she agreed to look through her photos and see what she could find for me.
A couple of weeks later a thick envelope arrived in the mail for me. It was from Norma. I opened it and smiled at the photos she'd sent me. As I looked through the photos, I also started to cry. While these photos were all taken before I was born, they were still the most current photos I had of Grandpa Deutsch and therefore provided me with the best recollection of what he had looked like later in life.
Christmas Day, 1962
Some of these photos brought back a lot of memories, not so much of Grandpa or Eddie Mae, but of the little house they lived in. Things I had forgotten about now came rushing to the forefront of my memory, like that big goofy heater to g-pa's left. It sat in the living room and was used to heat the entire house. Needless to say, the bedrooms and bathroom were often very cold.
Even though Eddie Mae was technically my step-great-grandmother, she was to me, as far as I was concerned, my actual great-grandmother. I never knew my biological g-gma, pictured here...
These are my father's, father's, father & mother, Grace & Herschel.
She passed away when my dad was a child. Grandpa Deutsch (that's what we all refer to him as) eventually re-married, to Eddie Mae.
So as I've said, I haven't seen Eddie Mae in over 35 years. When I found out recently she'd passed away a few months ago, I was less than happy that nobody had informed me. I gave it some thought for a few days and then made a bold move. I stepped waaaay out of my comfort zone and wrote a letter to a perfect stranger.
Using some info I'd found in her obituary, I looked up on the internet the address to one of her daughters. I wrote to her, telling her who I was and asking if she had any photos of my g-gpa that I could have or at least borrow to make copies.
One Sunday evening I got a phone call. I didn't recognize the number on the caller-id, and normally I'd ignore such a call, but this time I answered it, and was very glad I had. It was Eddie Mae's daughter, Norma, the great-aunt I never knew I had.
Norma lives only a few miles from me, yet we've never met. We chit-chatted for a while and she agreed to look through her photos and see what she could find for me.
A couple of weeks later a thick envelope arrived in the mail for me. It was from Norma. I opened it and smiled at the photos she'd sent me. As I looked through the photos, I also started to cry. While these photos were all taken before I was born, they were still the most current photos I had of Grandpa Deutsch and therefore provided me with the best recollection of what he had looked like later in life.
Christmas Day, 1962
Some of these photos brought back a lot of memories, not so much of Grandpa or Eddie Mae, but of the little house they lived in. Things I had forgotten about now came rushing to the forefront of my memory, like that big goofy heater to g-pa's left. It sat in the living room and was used to heat the entire house. Needless to say, the bedrooms and bathroom were often very cold.
Mother's Day 1965. I think this photo right here is the one that made me cry the most. It brought back the most memories for me. Granted, I wasn't even born yet, but many of my fondest memories of g-pa are of him sitting in that kitchen chair, me sitting on his lap while Eddie Mae walked down to the road to get the mail. He'd feed me those orange-marshmallow circus peanuts. And I can remember her getting out a tin full of buttons and letting me play with them.
May 1965
Summer 1965, standing on the back porch of their house.
The photo above & below were taken Thanksgiving Day 1965
Christmas Day 1965
These youngsters are some of my father's siblings... my uncle Richard, aunt Tracie, and the older girl I'm not sure. I'll guess my aunt Carol, but it honestly doesn't look anything like her, so I'm unsure. I know Tracie was born in June of '64, so I'll hazard a guess this photo was taken summer or '66. It does look like the outside of their parent's house, the kitchen window in the background.
Grandpa Deutsch, uncle Richard, definitely aunt Carol, and aunt Tracie.
There's no date on the back of the photo, but judging by Tracie's age, I'm guessing 1968 or 69.
I remember this car!
And this was Eddie Mae, taken in 2005. Still an attractive lady at 94 years old.
I need to call Norma now and thank her for sharing.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Titer test
Ever hear of a "Titer Test"?
I hadn't 'til last week, and even then I had no idea what it was. I finally looked it up today, needless to say, I'm intrigued.
It's been a long-standing debate that has had me between a rock and a hard-place. The rock being our breeder, the hard-place being our vet & our county's animal control laws.
It is the law here in Jefferson Co. that cats, dogs & other pets be licensed and in order to get that license, you have to show proof of rabies vaccination. Yeah, I know, there are a lot of people that skirt that law by not ever getting the vax or registering their pets with animal control, but I prefer to be law-abiding.
Our breeder on the other hand is very anti-vaccination, especially where rabies is concerned. Her philosophy, if you HAVE to get your pet vaccinated against rabies, wait 'til they are at least 2 or 3 years old and then only get the 3-year shot, and then only get it the one time.
Well, as I said, this truly puts me in between a rock & a hard place. My vet (and many others) won't give the 3-year vax. And waiting 'til the dog is 3 years old? Well, again, I'd be breaking the law. I've taken the law-abiding route and always followed the vet's recommendations, gotten my dogs & cats their vaccinations on time, because I don't think she'd be willing to pay my fines should animal control ever fine me for thumbing my nose at them.
So as I was talking to Olivia's p/t trainer last week telling her about my situation, she mentioned the Titer Test to me. I visited several sites today, reading about it. To summarize, the test determines whether or not your pet has enough immunity or anti-bodies against whatever you're testing for, be it rabies or parvo or whatever. (Hope I summarized that correctly).
Now I just need to find a vet that will perform this test, as I can almost guarantee my vet won't.
I'll be meeting with Liv's trainer tonight and find out more info and blog some more in the next couple of weeks.
My Bootsy is due for her shots in a couple of weeks so if I can get her out of needing them, then I'm all for it.
I hadn't 'til last week, and even then I had no idea what it was. I finally looked it up today, needless to say, I'm intrigued.
It's been a long-standing debate that has had me between a rock and a hard-place. The rock being our breeder, the hard-place being our vet & our county's animal control laws.
It is the law here in Jefferson Co. that cats, dogs & other pets be licensed and in order to get that license, you have to show proof of rabies vaccination. Yeah, I know, there are a lot of people that skirt that law by not ever getting the vax or registering their pets with animal control, but I prefer to be law-abiding.
Our breeder on the other hand is very anti-vaccination, especially where rabies is concerned. Her philosophy, if you HAVE to get your pet vaccinated against rabies, wait 'til they are at least 2 or 3 years old and then only get the 3-year shot, and then only get it the one time.
Well, as I said, this truly puts me in between a rock & a hard place. My vet (and many others) won't give the 3-year vax. And waiting 'til the dog is 3 years old? Well, again, I'd be breaking the law. I've taken the law-abiding route and always followed the vet's recommendations, gotten my dogs & cats their vaccinations on time, because I don't think she'd be willing to pay my fines should animal control ever fine me for thumbing my nose at them.
So as I was talking to Olivia's p/t trainer last week telling her about my situation, she mentioned the Titer Test to me. I visited several sites today, reading about it. To summarize, the test determines whether or not your pet has enough immunity or anti-bodies against whatever you're testing for, be it rabies or parvo or whatever. (Hope I summarized that correctly).
Now I just need to find a vet that will perform this test, as I can almost guarantee my vet won't.
I'll be meeting with Liv's trainer tonight and find out more info and blog some more in the next couple of weeks.
My Bootsy is due for her shots in a couple of weeks so if I can get her out of needing them, then I'm all for it.
Bruster's
I needed to run an errand to a store located in Westport Village yesterday evening, so the hubby & I loaded Olivia in the car and headed that way. We parked in a distant, shady corner of the lot and took Liv for a walk. But, for reasons I've never quite figured out, the stores in that shopping center have some of the craziest hours. They open late and close early. Twice I've tried to attend to some business at The Trail Store, the first time I got there I was too early. Last night, even though it was just after 7pm, I was too late. Honestly, how do some of these stores stay in business? They aren't open when most shoppers have the time/opportunity to shop there!
Hmph.
So we finished walking Olivia around the shopping center and decided to treat ourselves to ice cream. There was a Bruster's Ice Cream just up the street, and I knew I had a coupon for them in my car. John's sister thinks they are simply the best.
As we drove there, John said the one time he'd stopped in there with his sister and dad, the service had been horrible.
As it turned out, that wasn't an isolated incident.
Bruster's is a walk-up/drive-thru ice cream stand. No dining indoors, no picnic tables outside, just a couple of benches. They weren't overly busy when we arrived. There were two cars in the drive-thru, 1 couple at one walk-up window, and a family of four at the other window. I told John what I wanted. He got in line behind the family of four and then I walked across the parking lot with Olivia so she wouldn't be in anybodies way or try to get anyone's ice cream. We stood and we waited. And we waited, and we waited some more.
The drive-thru cleared out. As I stood and watched and waited, I could see two employees standing around in the drive-thru window, just talking, appearing to have a good ol' time, not working and not a care in the world about what else was going on. Two or three other employees milled around inside the store, but nobody bothered to take John's order, nor did anybody seem to be in any big hurry to fill the orders of those already standing at the front of the lines.
I mean, honestly, how hard is it, and how long does it take, to dip out ice cream and put it in a cone?
I continued to wait, but John was fed up and said "let's go". I seriously doubt we'll ever go back there. They apparently don't need our business. I hate to keep picking on the youths that work in customer service, but honestly, standing around chit-chatting with your friends when there are customers standing there not being served just really isn't acceptable. I wonder, had there been any adults working there at the time, would they have been so lax about waiting on the customers?
Hmph.
So we finished walking Olivia around the shopping center and decided to treat ourselves to ice cream. There was a Bruster's Ice Cream just up the street, and I knew I had a coupon for them in my car. John's sister thinks they are simply the best.
As we drove there, John said the one time he'd stopped in there with his sister and dad, the service had been horrible.
As it turned out, that wasn't an isolated incident.
Bruster's is a walk-up/drive-thru ice cream stand. No dining indoors, no picnic tables outside, just a couple of benches. They weren't overly busy when we arrived. There were two cars in the drive-thru, 1 couple at one walk-up window, and a family of four at the other window. I told John what I wanted. He got in line behind the family of four and then I walked across the parking lot with Olivia so she wouldn't be in anybodies way or try to get anyone's ice cream. We stood and we waited. And we waited, and we waited some more.
The drive-thru cleared out. As I stood and watched and waited, I could see two employees standing around in the drive-thru window, just talking, appearing to have a good ol' time, not working and not a care in the world about what else was going on. Two or three other employees milled around inside the store, but nobody bothered to take John's order, nor did anybody seem to be in any big hurry to fill the orders of those already standing at the front of the lines.
I mean, honestly, how hard is it, and how long does it take, to dip out ice cream and put it in a cone?
I continued to wait, but John was fed up and said "let's go". I seriously doubt we'll ever go back there. They apparently don't need our business. I hate to keep picking on the youths that work in customer service, but honestly, standing around chit-chatting with your friends when there are customers standing there not being served just really isn't acceptable. I wonder, had there been any adults working there at the time, would they have been so lax about waiting on the customers?
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Pita's Thighmaster
Remember a couple of decades ago when we could hardly turn on the television without seeing a commercial or infomercial with Suzanne Sommers showing us how to get firmer thighes by using that ridiculous torture device known as The Thighmaster?
While I have owned some useless, gimicky pieces of work-out equipment in my time, I can honestly say this is one I never bought in to. Oh sure, I tried it, as my mother had one, and my f-i-l as well, but I never found any benefit in it other than extreme boredom, sure to put you to sleep.
Well, it's about 20 years later now and I've discovered the new and improved thighmaster. Well, it's really not new, it's been around for centuries, but for me it's new. And it's certainly not boring as Suzanne's gizmo was, and I'm enjoying it immensely.
I use my new thighmaster faithfully and I just love me weekly work-out sessions with it. I can feel my thighmaster working the muscles in my legs, firming and toning them. Will I ever have legs like Ms. Sommers? Probably not, but I betcha I'm enjoying my work-out a whole lot more than anybody that ever used her gizmo. :)
This is Pita's thighmaster...
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The fun-run
This past Saturday Liv & I participated in yet another running/walking event, The Fastline Fun-Run. For the runners it was a 5k event. For the walkers, a mere 1-mile. Of course we could've walked the full length if we had wanted to, but I felt considering how many miles we've logged so far this summer, and it was warming up to be a really humid day, I felt taking the 1-mile route was okay since it was set up that way, and not so much a cop-out.
The man that was emceeing the event was none other than one of the minister's at another event we'd wanted to enter and had told us in no uncertain terms, "NO DOGS ALLOWED!".
I was hoping rather smugly that he was taking note of the fact that I had picked up a pile of her poop and disposed of it in a dumpster, was taking note of just how very good Olivia was being with all the people that came up to pet her, and was taking note of how we stayed out of the way of the other participants while on the race course. I was hoping he felt just a slight twinge of guilt from banning us from his event. Probably not, but I can hope, can't I?
As usual, Olivia made me very proud at how well she behaved. She only backed away from two children who were a bit on the rowdy side (which I wanted to back away from them also), but she allowed all other adults and children to approach her and pet not only her head, but down the length of her body. That's a major deal for her, allowing others to tough her torso.
One lady that was confined to a wheel chair and her hands were somewhat deformed, curled in at the wrist, absolutely fell in love with Olivia. She was there to cheer on the rest of her family members that were running, but loved on Oliva before and after the event. Liv stood very still for her and the wheel chair didn't seem to phase her at all.
This past Friday's class towards her becoming a therapy-pet was to have been her last, but the lady asked us to come back again this week, no charge. It's looking now like Olivia won't have to be tested for the Delta Soc., but instead it's another (similar) group out of Houston. We're just waiting on Emma to get final word on which group will be backing our little therapy-pet group before Olivia takes her test.
The man that was emceeing the event was none other than one of the minister's at another event we'd wanted to enter and had told us in no uncertain terms, "NO DOGS ALLOWED!".
I was hoping rather smugly that he was taking note of the fact that I had picked up a pile of her poop and disposed of it in a dumpster, was taking note of just how very good Olivia was being with all the people that came up to pet her, and was taking note of how we stayed out of the way of the other participants while on the race course. I was hoping he felt just a slight twinge of guilt from banning us from his event. Probably not, but I can hope, can't I?
As usual, Olivia made me very proud at how well she behaved. She only backed away from two children who were a bit on the rowdy side (which I wanted to back away from them also), but she allowed all other adults and children to approach her and pet not only her head, but down the length of her body. That's a major deal for her, allowing others to tough her torso.
One lady that was confined to a wheel chair and her hands were somewhat deformed, curled in at the wrist, absolutely fell in love with Olivia. She was there to cheer on the rest of her family members that were running, but loved on Oliva before and after the event. Liv stood very still for her and the wheel chair didn't seem to phase her at all.
This past Friday's class towards her becoming a therapy-pet was to have been her last, but the lady asked us to come back again this week, no charge. It's looking now like Olivia won't have to be tested for the Delta Soc., but instead it's another (similar) group out of Houston. We're just waiting on Emma to get final word on which group will be backing our little therapy-pet group before Olivia takes her test.
Dear Campbell's Soup Co.
Dear Campbell's Soup Co.
On more than one occasion in the past few years, you've put out a product, gotten me hooked on it, and then yanked it off the store shelves. Why do you keep doing this? Surely I can't be the only consumer out there that's buying your product. There have been too many instances when the store(s) have been sold-out, so I know others are buying your product as well. So what gives??
First it was the Fiesta Nacho Cheese flavor. A favorite in our household for the occasions when I make queso. All of our local stores stopped carrying it. I wrote you voicing my concern. You provided me with the names of two stores within a 15 mile radius that still carried it. I visited both stores and cleaned them out.
Fortunately, a few months later (before my stock ran out), my local stores started stocking it again. Life was again good.
You came out with another flavor, Ranchero Tomato. This stuff was excellent in recipes. Then BAM!!, you yanked it from the shelves. Again I say, what gives?? This flavor has yet to reappear on my store shelves.
Now my local stores have once again stopped stocking the Fiesta Nacho Cheese. I'm really getting tired of this. And another thing, the Herb flavored Cream of Chicken, I have to make a special trip to a store that's not my usually shopping place.
Why not stock all the flavors at all the stores????
Signed me,
salivating for your soups
On more than one occasion in the past few years, you've put out a product, gotten me hooked on it, and then yanked it off the store shelves. Why do you keep doing this? Surely I can't be the only consumer out there that's buying your product. There have been too many instances when the store(s) have been sold-out, so I know others are buying your product as well. So what gives??
First it was the Fiesta Nacho Cheese flavor. A favorite in our household for the occasions when I make queso. All of our local stores stopped carrying it. I wrote you voicing my concern. You provided me with the names of two stores within a 15 mile radius that still carried it. I visited both stores and cleaned them out.
Fortunately, a few months later (before my stock ran out), my local stores started stocking it again. Life was again good.
You came out with another flavor, Ranchero Tomato. This stuff was excellent in recipes. Then BAM!!, you yanked it from the shelves. Again I say, what gives?? This flavor has yet to reappear on my store shelves.
Now my local stores have once again stopped stocking the Fiesta Nacho Cheese. I'm really getting tired of this. And another thing, the Herb flavored Cream of Chicken, I have to make a special trip to a store that's not my usually shopping place.
Why not stock all the flavors at all the stores????
Signed me,
salivating for your soups
Monday, August 10, 2009
I now pronounce you, wife & wife
How many times have I stated that mapquest keeps leading me astray? And yet dumb-ass me, I keep going back to it for directions. I'd say I kindly deserve to be sent in the wrong direction if I'm that naive to think they might actually get it right once in a while.
Dee, a friend of mine that I've known since 2nd grade was getting married Saturday evening. It was waaay out in Valley Station (it seems farther than it actually is), not a part of the county I really ever venture to unless I have a specific reason. So other than the main road (Dixie Hwy), I really don't know where anything is out there, thus my stupidity in relying on mapquest. Fortunately, I left the house with plenty of extra time so I still arrived on time.
John had another prior engagement, so I ventured out alone. There were two other girls we'd gone to school with in attendance, and their husbands, so at least I wasn't sitting alone. The five of us sat and laughed and had a good time, as we always seem to do whenever we get together.
The wedding colors were a deep blue and sort of a teal or sea-blue, with a beach theme. The invitations they'd sent out had a picture of a sandy beach with two big hearts drawn in the sand. The wedding cake had one of the prettiest tops I think I've ever seen. It was blown-glass, with two dolphins inside of a heart.
I apologize for the poor quality of the photos. My camera absolutely sucks taking photos indoors with low-lighting, especially from a distance. I played around in photo-shop to lighten them up a bit, which made them look a bit grainy, but at least now you can see the subject of the photos.
The matron of honor and the best-woman
Bride's maid and groom's-woman
The flower girls and ring-bearer
The lovely bride, Dee, and her son, Glen, who gave her away.
Her dress was beautiful. I don't think I've seen a train that long since Diana & Charles got married. ;)
exchanging the vows
The newlyweds!
Dee, a friend of mine that I've known since 2nd grade was getting married Saturday evening. It was waaay out in Valley Station (it seems farther than it actually is), not a part of the county I really ever venture to unless I have a specific reason. So other than the main road (Dixie Hwy), I really don't know where anything is out there, thus my stupidity in relying on mapquest. Fortunately, I left the house with plenty of extra time so I still arrived on time.
John had another prior engagement, so I ventured out alone. There were two other girls we'd gone to school with in attendance, and their husbands, so at least I wasn't sitting alone. The five of us sat and laughed and had a good time, as we always seem to do whenever we get together.
The wedding colors were a deep blue and sort of a teal or sea-blue, with a beach theme. The invitations they'd sent out had a picture of a sandy beach with two big hearts drawn in the sand. The wedding cake had one of the prettiest tops I think I've ever seen. It was blown-glass, with two dolphins inside of a heart.
I apologize for the poor quality of the photos. My camera absolutely sucks taking photos indoors with low-lighting, especially from a distance. I played around in photo-shop to lighten them up a bit, which made them look a bit grainy, but at least now you can see the subject of the photos.
The matron of honor and the best-woman
Bride's maid and groom's-woman
The flower girls and ring-bearer
The lovely bride, Dee, and her son, Glen, who gave her away.
Her dress was beautiful. I don't think I've seen a train that long since Diana & Charles got married. ;)
exchanging the vows
I now pronounce you, life partners, you may kiss your bride.
The newlyweds!
This is Sheryl. Such a tiny little thing. Bless her heart, we couldn't decide if she was 45-ish or 12.
Kelly & John, high-school sweethearts. I've known Kelly since 7th grade.
Donna & Bobby. I've also known Donna since 2nd grade. She has a fabulous knack for turning any situation into a funny story, and always makes me laugh.
The cake topper
Time to cut the cake
The food fight didn't start 'til after I'd snapped this picture. ;)
Cheers!
The first dance
Who's leading who?
Okay, so maybe technically it wasn't a wedding so much as a commitment-ceremony, because neither the state of Kentucky (where they held the event) nor Indiana (where they live) recognize gay-marriage. Perhaps one of these days the laws all across the USA will catch up with the times and allow such unions. Considering how many heterosexual marriages end up in divorce, what's the harm in allowing same-sex marriages? Many of them seem to last longer.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Dear advertisement writers...
Dear Advertisement Writers, Product Testers, and Quality Control Personnel:
Two and a half years ago, my husband and I purchased a futon (pictured here...
, but w/different mattress).
, but w/different mattress).We chose this particular make/model because we felt it would be heavy-duty enough to stand up to the challenges of what would be lying about on it, namely our three young children, pictured here...
We felt that having a metal frame would #1) deter them from chewing on it and causing destruction (and we were correct in this assumption), and #2) that the metal would hold up and support their combined weight of approximately 350 lbs.
Your description of your product read: "Metal futon frame with solid welds and heavy duty hinges. A smart buy!" sounded good to us.
We trusted your description and made our purchase, got it home, assembled it, and presented it to our children for Christmas. They loved it! Perhaps they loved it a little too much.
On more than one occasion, we've had to tighten down the nuts and bolts as they tended to come loose and then the frame would start to list to one side or the other.
I noticed earlier this week that it was again starting to lean. This morning it was seriously leaning to my left and I made the husband get out of bed to come tighten it down again, fearing one of the children would get a leg pinched, if not broken (or worse!), should the thing fall while they were on it. As he went to get his tools, I started inspecting it a little closer. No amount of nuts/bolts tightening in the world was going to save the futon. No, the metal plates were completely shorn off on the front, cracked in other places, and barely hanging on by a thread of metal in others. It's a wonder my poor children or one of us hadn't been seriously hurt or killed by your product. I made my husband dismantle your product and haul it out to the trash collection. My children are now sleeping on the futon-mattress on the floor, and they are less than happy about this.
So the whole point to this letter is this:
Product testers and quality control people... perhaps you should test your product to see how well it stands up to activities other than sitting/sleeping. Do you have children (2 or 4-legged) jump up and down on it? Use it for a trampoline? Get a good running start at one end of the house and then take flying-leaps onto it? Spin in circles, first in one direction and then back the other way before flopping down? Pretend to be WWE pro wrestlers and the futon is their wrestling ring? You might want to consider putting your product through these tests in the future before having the ad-writers come up with this Metal futon frame with solid welds and heavy duty hinges. A smart buy! Or perhaps you did do all those tests and knew that the only thing that would hold up to that kind of use and abuse would be the hinges, as I have to admit, they have held up nicely. And too, the welds did hold up as well, they are still in tact, it's just everything around them that fell apart. But I'm not sure I would call it a smart buy.
On the plus side, now that we no longer have a futon for our children to sleep on, it does free up quite a bit of space in the great room and I'm now considering purchasing each child his/her very own dog-crate to sleep in.
Sign me,
Mother of three disgruntled Danes.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Rough night
It was a rough night at Pita's home.
Around 1:30 this morning a loud thumping-crashing noise woke us up, and my subconscious immediately knew (or at least, suspected) what was wrong, but I couldn't make my body respond and I just laid there for a moment, trying to come fully awake and force myself to go investigate. The noise had been loud enough to wake John, and considering how heavy a sleeper he is, that's saying a lot. When I finally heard Bootsy making noise outside our bedroom door, I finally came fully awake, sure now of what the problem was and I leaped from the bed and made my way through the darkness and into the great-room. I flipped on the light and sure enough, I saw what my subconscious already knew was happening.
Olivia was having a seizure.
I reached back into our bedroom and flipped on the light and yelled at John, telling him she was convulsing, then fell to my knees beside her and just started stroking her, hoping that somewhere within her jumbled mind she was finding some reassurance in knowing that I was there for her.
As is typical when someone is having a seizure, they tend to release the contents of their bladder, and poor Olivia was lying in a huge puddle of her urine. I grabbed a couple of slobber towels that were lying near by and laid them over the worst of the puddle to help soak it out of the carpet. John came and knelt by her head, stroking her neck and legs. Bootsy continued to prance around and nip at Olivia's rump and make singing-noises. Eliott, as usual, hung far back out of the way, but kept Olivia in sight. When she has these seizures, they affect each of us in our household in different ways.
After a couple of minutes, she suddenly raised her head and looked at us, thumped her tail and then jumped to her feet and shook it off. I put the leash on her and took her outside in case she needed to potty, and too I thought the fresh air might do her some good. But there was nothing left in her bladder, so we headed back inside. I set about trying to clean up the huge mess on the carpet while John took the other dogs out to potty. Apparently Olivia's seizure must've scared the sh*t out of Bootsy & Eliott, as he came back and reported to me on them both doing a "#3", which is highly unusual for either of them to do the #2 part of that equation when we take them out for a quick potty break.
Usually, once Olivia has come out of her seizure, she is back to normal almost immediately. That wasn't the case this time. She kept pacing around the house, bumping into the dog crate and the doggy-gates, and seemed to be trying to go into parts of the house she normally doesn't go. I tried taking her outside one more time, but when I opened the front door to take her out, she pulled back as if afraid to go outside, and I can't remember a single time EVER that she's not wanted to go outside.
Her behavior had me worried, so I grabbed a couple of pillows and a light blanket and settled into the recliner. By now a half hour had passed and it would be another 1/2 hour before she finally settled down. I only managed to catch short cat-naps the rest of the morning as every time I dozed off it seemed she would get up and pace a little more or move to another place to lie down, and each time she moved, I was instantly awake.
We both worry about our little "white-thunder" and what happens when we're not around. I told John that for her own safety, she can no longer stay out of her crate when we run to the grocery or out to dinner. Anything can happen in the hour or two we're gone, and she's safer being in her crate. It absolutely breaks my heart every time I've watched her go through this. I'm thankful they don't happen more often, but wish like crazy they didn't happen at all. Doesn't this poor dog have enough things stacked against her? I hope her seizures aren't getting worse and that each time she's going to have a harder time recovering from them. I truly don't want to put her on meds. While they may help control the seizures (no guarantee though), they are extremely hard on their liver and can shorten the dog's life dramatically, and I certainly don't want that!!
Around 1:30 this morning a loud thumping-crashing noise woke us up, and my subconscious immediately knew (or at least, suspected) what was wrong, but I couldn't make my body respond and I just laid there for a moment, trying to come fully awake and force myself to go investigate. The noise had been loud enough to wake John, and considering how heavy a sleeper he is, that's saying a lot. When I finally heard Bootsy making noise outside our bedroom door, I finally came fully awake, sure now of what the problem was and I leaped from the bed and made my way through the darkness and into the great-room. I flipped on the light and sure enough, I saw what my subconscious already knew was happening.
Olivia was having a seizure.
I reached back into our bedroom and flipped on the light and yelled at John, telling him she was convulsing, then fell to my knees beside her and just started stroking her, hoping that somewhere within her jumbled mind she was finding some reassurance in knowing that I was there for her.
As is typical when someone is having a seizure, they tend to release the contents of their bladder, and poor Olivia was lying in a huge puddle of her urine. I grabbed a couple of slobber towels that were lying near by and laid them over the worst of the puddle to help soak it out of the carpet. John came and knelt by her head, stroking her neck and legs. Bootsy continued to prance around and nip at Olivia's rump and make singing-noises. Eliott, as usual, hung far back out of the way, but kept Olivia in sight. When she has these seizures, they affect each of us in our household in different ways.
After a couple of minutes, she suddenly raised her head and looked at us, thumped her tail and then jumped to her feet and shook it off. I put the leash on her and took her outside in case she needed to potty, and too I thought the fresh air might do her some good. But there was nothing left in her bladder, so we headed back inside. I set about trying to clean up the huge mess on the carpet while John took the other dogs out to potty. Apparently Olivia's seizure must've scared the sh*t out of Bootsy & Eliott, as he came back and reported to me on them both doing a "#3", which is highly unusual for either of them to do the #2 part of that equation when we take them out for a quick potty break.
Usually, once Olivia has come out of her seizure, she is back to normal almost immediately. That wasn't the case this time. She kept pacing around the house, bumping into the dog crate and the doggy-gates, and seemed to be trying to go into parts of the house she normally doesn't go. I tried taking her outside one more time, but when I opened the front door to take her out, she pulled back as if afraid to go outside, and I can't remember a single time EVER that she's not wanted to go outside.
Her behavior had me worried, so I grabbed a couple of pillows and a light blanket and settled into the recliner. By now a half hour had passed and it would be another 1/2 hour before she finally settled down. I only managed to catch short cat-naps the rest of the morning as every time I dozed off it seemed she would get up and pace a little more or move to another place to lie down, and each time she moved, I was instantly awake.
We both worry about our little "white-thunder" and what happens when we're not around. I told John that for her own safety, she can no longer stay out of her crate when we run to the grocery or out to dinner. Anything can happen in the hour or two we're gone, and she's safer being in her crate. It absolutely breaks my heart every time I've watched her go through this. I'm thankful they don't happen more often, but wish like crazy they didn't happen at all. Doesn't this poor dog have enough things stacked against her? I hope her seizures aren't getting worse and that each time she's going to have a harder time recovering from them. I truly don't want to put her on meds. While they may help control the seizures (no guarantee though), they are extremely hard on their liver and can shorten the dog's life dramatically, and I certainly don't want that!!
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Helmet of Hope
I've emailed many of you, so if you've already read this, then forgive me.
But some of my faithful readers I don't have an email address for and then too, I don't always trust email as some things end up in the spam-folder, never to be read by the recipient.
Anyway...
As many of you know, I've been doing volunteer work at The Luci Center (TLC) for the past couple of years now, and simply love spending time there. I only wish I lived closer so I could devote more time to it.
TLC is a therapeutic horseback riding center that helps children and adults with physical, mental and emotional disabilities. If you want more info on TLC, click on the link above.
Nascar driver #48, Jimmie Johnson, has a foundation that is dedicated to assisting children, families and communities in need throughout the USA. During the Pepsi-500 race on Oct. 10th of '09, Jimmie will be wearing a special helmet which will bear the logos of 12 charitable organizations (must be a 501c3 organization). Those 12 charities will receive a donation from his foundation, and they will also get their logos printed on an Initiative T-shirt which will be sold, the funds raised will be divided equally between the winning charities. This program is being called "The Helmet of Hope".
I'd like to ask each of you to go to The Helmet of Hope website and nominate The Luci Center for consideration. It costs you nothing but a moment of your time. Entries must be received by 5pm E.S.T. on Sept. 16, '09.
Any info you need to fill out the nomination form can be found on TLC's website, or feel free to contact me for more info.
Thanking you in advance for your consideration!!
But some of my faithful readers I don't have an email address for and then too, I don't always trust email as some things end up in the spam-folder, never to be read by the recipient.
Anyway...
As many of you know, I've been doing volunteer work at The Luci Center (TLC) for the past couple of years now, and simply love spending time there. I only wish I lived closer so I could devote more time to it.
TLC is a therapeutic horseback riding center that helps children and adults with physical, mental and emotional disabilities. If you want more info on TLC, click on the link above.
Nascar driver #48, Jimmie Johnson, has a foundation that is dedicated to assisting children, families and communities in need throughout the USA. During the Pepsi-500 race on Oct. 10th of '09, Jimmie will be wearing a special helmet which will bear the logos of 12 charitable organizations (must be a 501c3 organization). Those 12 charities will receive a donation from his foundation, and they will also get their logos printed on an Initiative T-shirt which will be sold, the funds raised will be divided equally between the winning charities. This program is being called "The Helmet of Hope".
I'd like to ask each of you to go to The Helmet of Hope website and nominate The Luci Center for consideration. It costs you nothing but a moment of your time. Entries must be received by 5pm E.S.T. on Sept. 16, '09.
Any info you need to fill out the nomination form can be found on TLC's website, or feel free to contact me for more info.
Thanking you in advance for your consideration!!
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
The grief-stricken widow
I know we shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but is it wrong to speak ill of the widow? If it is, too bad.
I just had this nasty, hateful old b*tch call me up complaining because she hasn't received the insurance money from her husband's death. Like this is my fault? I don't work for the insurance company. I don't process the claims. I don't write the checks.
What I do do, simply as a courtesy for the families that have lost a loved one, is help the family file their claim(s). Some families choose to do all the paperwork themselves. This is fine with me. I'm not crazy about filling out complicated and often redundant claim form after claim form.
Some claim forms are simple and self-explanatory. Others not so much. And since the families are usually so overwhelmed with all that is going on, if they want my assistance, then I fill out the forms on their behalf, have them sign where necessary, and then I mail the forms, original policies (if the family provided them), the death certificate and any other necessary paperwork, all without charging the family or asking them to pay the postage.
Once the insurance company has processed the claim, they mail the beneficiary(ies) the check.
Several weeks ago this old man died. His lunatic widow brought her entire family in to help her make arrangements, because, as she put it, they should make these decisions, not her. Yet every single thing the kids/grandkids wanted, she vetoed and did what she wanted instead.
I filed the man's insurance within a few days of his death and attached a note to the claim that I would mail the death certificate just as soon as I received it. This is a common practice so that the insurance company can start processing the claim. If you wait and mail it all at the same time, it creates a delay in the process.
The man's death certificates arrived in the mail on Saturday the 25th, a day I'm not typically at work. My co-worker placed them on my desk so I could tend to mailing them where they needed to go when I returned on Monday. Even if my co-worker had chosen to handle this herself, the d/c's still wouldn't have gone out 'til Monday's mail as it had obviously already run for that day and there is no postal service on Sunday.
This crazy old woman called me a few minutes ago wanting me to call the insurance company and find out why she hadn't gotten paid yet. As it just so happened, I'd already called them earlier in the day to make sure there were no problems with the claim and find out when we'd be getting our money as well. I was informed that the claim was still being processed. I informed the widow of the status, but that wasn't good enough. She wanted her money! That was the same thing they'd told her when she had called them. She started ranting at me, "they've had that death certificate since the 27th, I should have my money by now."
me: no ma'am, I mailed the d/c to them on the 27th. It can take the mail a few days to get there, then be processed. (in other words woman, have some patience!!)
her: no, no, no, no, NO! Your co-worker told me it came in the mail on Saturday (25th).
me: that's right. And I'm not here on Saturdays so it didn't go out 'til Monday's mail.
her: Somebody's going to be sorry if they start messing with me and my stuff!! You'd better not mess with me and my stuff, you'll be sorry!
Hmm, ok, was she threatening me?
I took a deep breath while she continued to rant and cuss and carry on. I took a deep breath, mentally counting to 10, and waited for her to pause before telling her there was absolutely no way possible for the insurance to have gotten the d/c any sooner, and bracing myself for the verbal assault I was sure she'd launch at me when I informed her that one of her policies wouldn't be paying her anything because she'd let it lapse for non-payment and it had been cancelled, but I never got a chance to tell her because she hung up on me.
I'm trying to tell myself that she's a grieving widow, full of shock and sadness over the loss of her husband, and apparently the only thing that will make her feel better is the check she'll receive from his insurance. Part of me is now gloating inside with the satisfaction of knowing she wouldn't be getting nearly as much money as she thought she would.
Evil, aren't I?
People often ask how I can stand to work in this business, all the death and sadness around me all the time. Heck, it isn't the dead that are the problem, shoot no, the dead ones are a pleasure. It's the living that cause so much grief!!
I just had this nasty, hateful old b*tch call me up complaining because she hasn't received the insurance money from her husband's death. Like this is my fault? I don't work for the insurance company. I don't process the claims. I don't write the checks.
What I do do, simply as a courtesy for the families that have lost a loved one, is help the family file their claim(s). Some families choose to do all the paperwork themselves. This is fine with me. I'm not crazy about filling out complicated and often redundant claim form after claim form.
Some claim forms are simple and self-explanatory. Others not so much. And since the families are usually so overwhelmed with all that is going on, if they want my assistance, then I fill out the forms on their behalf, have them sign where necessary, and then I mail the forms, original policies (if the family provided them), the death certificate and any other necessary paperwork, all without charging the family or asking them to pay the postage.
Once the insurance company has processed the claim, they mail the beneficiary(ies) the check.
Several weeks ago this old man died. His lunatic widow brought her entire family in to help her make arrangements, because, as she put it, they should make these decisions, not her. Yet every single thing the kids/grandkids wanted, she vetoed and did what she wanted instead.
I filed the man's insurance within a few days of his death and attached a note to the claim that I would mail the death certificate just as soon as I received it. This is a common practice so that the insurance company can start processing the claim. If you wait and mail it all at the same time, it creates a delay in the process.
The man's death certificates arrived in the mail on Saturday the 25th, a day I'm not typically at work. My co-worker placed them on my desk so I could tend to mailing them where they needed to go when I returned on Monday. Even if my co-worker had chosen to handle this herself, the d/c's still wouldn't have gone out 'til Monday's mail as it had obviously already run for that day and there is no postal service on Sunday.
This crazy old woman called me a few minutes ago wanting me to call the insurance company and find out why she hadn't gotten paid yet. As it just so happened, I'd already called them earlier in the day to make sure there were no problems with the claim and find out when we'd be getting our money as well. I was informed that the claim was still being processed. I informed the widow of the status, but that wasn't good enough. She wanted her money! That was the same thing they'd told her when she had called them. She started ranting at me, "they've had that death certificate since the 27th, I should have my money by now."
me: no ma'am, I mailed the d/c to them on the 27th. It can take the mail a few days to get there, then be processed. (in other words woman, have some patience!!)
her: no, no, no, no, NO! Your co-worker told me it came in the mail on Saturday (25th).
me: that's right. And I'm not here on Saturdays so it didn't go out 'til Monday's mail.
her: Somebody's going to be sorry if they start messing with me and my stuff!! You'd better not mess with me and my stuff, you'll be sorry!
Hmm, ok, was she threatening me?
I took a deep breath while she continued to rant and cuss and carry on. I took a deep breath, mentally counting to 10, and waited for her to pause before telling her there was absolutely no way possible for the insurance to have gotten the d/c any sooner, and bracing myself for the verbal assault I was sure she'd launch at me when I informed her that one of her policies wouldn't be paying her anything because she'd let it lapse for non-payment and it had been cancelled, but I never got a chance to tell her because she hung up on me.
I'm trying to tell myself that she's a grieving widow, full of shock and sadness over the loss of her husband, and apparently the only thing that will make her feel better is the check she'll receive from his insurance. Part of me is now gloating inside with the satisfaction of knowing she wouldn't be getting nearly as much money as she thought she would.
Evil, aren't I?
People often ask how I can stand to work in this business, all the death and sadness around me all the time. Heck, it isn't the dead that are the problem, shoot no, the dead ones are a pleasure. It's the living that cause so much grief!!
Take a bow!
While Olivia is far from being an old dog, she is four and a half and in the Great Dane world, that's just a few months shy of middle-aged. And while she's far from being the most obedient dog in the world and she certainly wouldn't win any awards doing obedience-trials, she's perfect in my eyes.
She's quick to sit (especially when food is involved), she'll lay down on command, and if I can get her attention, she'll come when called (waved at). She does pretty well with "stay", if she knows we're working on obedience issues. Other times, it's hit and miss. Considering she's deaf and partially blind, I've been very happy with her accomplishments. For any of you that may be new to this blog, then let me just brag for a moment and tell you that she did earn her Canine Good Citizens title when she was 16 months old. Not bad for a pup that wasn't expected to have any quality of life {Genia, you know I have to keep rubbing that in every chance I get ;) }
Olivia has been working over the past 4 weeks with a trainer that is trying to help us get her certified to become a therapy pet. You know, one of the pets that visits nursing homes, reformatories, etc. and helps to lift the patients spirits. At one point, I went to reward her for something she'd done and she went into a bow and Emma commented on what a pretty bow she did. So ever since then, we've been working to reinforce this trick. She will now "take a bow" when queued to do so. We're still working to perfect this trick, but she's doing pretty well with it. I hope you can get the video open to see it.
She's quick to sit (especially when food is involved), she'll lay down on command, and if I can get her attention, she'll come when called (waved at). She does pretty well with "stay", if she knows we're working on obedience issues. Other times, it's hit and miss. Considering she's deaf and partially blind, I've been very happy with her accomplishments. For any of you that may be new to this blog, then let me just brag for a moment and tell you that she did earn her Canine Good Citizens title when she was 16 months old. Not bad for a pup that wasn't expected to have any quality of life {Genia, you know I have to keep rubbing that in every chance I get ;) }
Olivia has been working over the past 4 weeks with a trainer that is trying to help us get her certified to become a therapy pet. You know, one of the pets that visits nursing homes, reformatories, etc. and helps to lift the patients spirits. At one point, I went to reward her for something she'd done and she went into a bow and Emma commented on what a pretty bow she did. So ever since then, we've been working to reinforce this trick. She will now "take a bow" when queued to do so. We're still working to perfect this trick, but she's doing pretty well with it. I hope you can get the video open to see it.
I can't wait to discover what other talents she has. :)
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