*My husband turns 50 years old tomorrow. He can now join AARP and get senior citizen discounts at certain places.
*The weathermen have fluctuated back and forth all week over the predictions for snow in our area. Depending on who you listen to and where you live along I-65, we will get between a dusting and 12". The dusting we got earlier in the week wreaked havoc on morning commuters. I know I'm in the minority here, but personally, I'm hoping for a foot or more of snow, if for no other reason then it will hopefully cancel my m-i-l's plans to come to town for hubby's birthday.
*The new assistant I have at work, thus far, is working out very well.
Of course I'm referring to my elder child, Bootsy. This is day four of her accompanying me, and thus far, she's only barked once... when an off-duty employee came upstairs talking at the top of his lungs and scared her. Aside from that, she's behaved very well, not torn anything up, had no accidents, and unlike her brother, doesn't freak out about going down the staircase.
Honestly, I think once her stitches are out next Friday, her little heart is going to break when she no longer gets to accompany me to work.
Yesterday, as soon as she saw me pick up my coat, she jumped up from the chair she was lying in and ran to the front door, ready to go.
This morning, I wasn't even ready to leave, and she was sitting by the front door waiting. Yep, I think she likes being my carpool buddy/office assistant. ;)
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Women's health
As wives, mothers, homemakers, soccermoms, maids, chefs, bookkeepers, healthcare providers and peacemakers all rolled in to one, we women often tend to overlook our own health because we're so busy caring for everyone else in our lives.
And somewhere along the way in our lives it has become ingrained in our head not to run to the doctor with every little ache, pain, sniffle or feeling of blahness, and we tend to discount it as being worn out or nothing major and whatever it is will pass if given time. Of course if our spouse, child, or the family dog so much as sneezes, we're ready to rush them to the E.R. So why do we neglect ourselves? Do we feel we're indestructible??
When I arrived home from work yesterday, the husband was already home. I pulled up in front of the house and called him to come out and move his car so I could get into the driveway first (thus saving me from having to move my car at 3:30 in the morning for him to go to work). After we'd jockeyed the cars around and parked, we exited our cars at the same time. After 22 years with this man, I've learned to read his body language and facial expressions well enough to know when something is majorly wrong. I could tell right away that something was terribly amiss and before either of us could even get our doors closed I was asking him what was wrong.
Of course my first fear is always his job.
I felt if a family member had passed, he would've called me right away, so I was bracing myself for bad news about work.
He didn't answer me, but the look on his face was getting more serious by the moment. Again I asked, "what's wrong!?" By now the tears were flowing down his face, sending a stabbing jolt of fear through my heart and the pit of my stomach. He started blubbering as he buried his face against my shoulder and tried to tell me, but I couldn't understand a single word.
I thought he'd said something about "BJ" and finding something, but I knew this couldn't be right or else he'd lost his mind, as BJ was our cat we'd had put down a couple of years ago.
So I asked him again and finally he pulled it together enough to repeat himself so I could understand.
His oldest sister "M", who is 59, went to the hospital after having stomach problems and after running tests on her, it was discovered she had cancer and that it had already spread throughout her body. The doctors told her there was nothing they could do for her aside from give her some pain medicine to try and keep her comfortable.
"M" is the sister that lives in south Florida, far removed from the rest of the family. I can't help but wonder how long she's been having these stomach problems and has been ignoring them, because she's been so busy taking care of her husband and his own cancer and seizure problems these past few years and dealing with her son and his drug and criminal problems. I wonder if she hadn't been so busy trying to take care of their problems, would she have taken better care of herself? This woman is a registered nurse. She retired just this past year in order to stay home and take care of her husband & son. I can't help but wonder if she wasn't trying to self-diagnose her problems and purposely down-playing them.
I don't know how much time the doctors have given her.
While I was somewhat stunned by the news, I won't say I was devastated. I mean, I hate to see anybody go through cancer, especially when it's been deemed terminal, but I was never particularly close to this woman. She and I usually go years in between phone calls or visits, and John usually only talks to this sister a couple of times a year. I did tell John though that this kind of news now made me worry about every little sickness I ever feel or every change that takes place in my own body.
I've got a doctor's appointment in a couple of weeks, made before all this happened, but I guess it will be as good a time as any to start asking a lot of questions.
Of course this has me worried for other reasons too.
John's brother had bladder cancer a couple of years ago, his father had prostate cancer a few years ago, and now his sister if full of cancer. I know John and his other sister are probably both beside themselves wondering if they are next.
And somewhere along the way in our lives it has become ingrained in our head not to run to the doctor with every little ache, pain, sniffle or feeling of blahness, and we tend to discount it as being worn out or nothing major and whatever it is will pass if given time. Of course if our spouse, child, or the family dog so much as sneezes, we're ready to rush them to the E.R. So why do we neglect ourselves? Do we feel we're indestructible??
When I arrived home from work yesterday, the husband was already home. I pulled up in front of the house and called him to come out and move his car so I could get into the driveway first (thus saving me from having to move my car at 3:30 in the morning for him to go to work). After we'd jockeyed the cars around and parked, we exited our cars at the same time. After 22 years with this man, I've learned to read his body language and facial expressions well enough to know when something is majorly wrong. I could tell right away that something was terribly amiss and before either of us could even get our doors closed I was asking him what was wrong.
Of course my first fear is always his job.
I felt if a family member had passed, he would've called me right away, so I was bracing myself for bad news about work.
He didn't answer me, but the look on his face was getting more serious by the moment. Again I asked, "what's wrong!?" By now the tears were flowing down his face, sending a stabbing jolt of fear through my heart and the pit of my stomach. He started blubbering as he buried his face against my shoulder and tried to tell me, but I couldn't understand a single word.
I thought he'd said something about "BJ" and finding something, but I knew this couldn't be right or else he'd lost his mind, as BJ was our cat we'd had put down a couple of years ago.
So I asked him again and finally he pulled it together enough to repeat himself so I could understand.
His oldest sister "M", who is 59, went to the hospital after having stomach problems and after running tests on her, it was discovered she had cancer and that it had already spread throughout her body. The doctors told her there was nothing they could do for her aside from give her some pain medicine to try and keep her comfortable.
"M" is the sister that lives in south Florida, far removed from the rest of the family. I can't help but wonder how long she's been having these stomach problems and has been ignoring them, because she's been so busy taking care of her husband and his own cancer and seizure problems these past few years and dealing with her son and his drug and criminal problems. I wonder if she hadn't been so busy trying to take care of their problems, would she have taken better care of herself? This woman is a registered nurse. She retired just this past year in order to stay home and take care of her husband & son. I can't help but wonder if she wasn't trying to self-diagnose her problems and purposely down-playing them.
I don't know how much time the doctors have given her.
While I was somewhat stunned by the news, I won't say I was devastated. I mean, I hate to see anybody go through cancer, especially when it's been deemed terminal, but I was never particularly close to this woman. She and I usually go years in between phone calls or visits, and John usually only talks to this sister a couple of times a year. I did tell John though that this kind of news now made me worry about every little sickness I ever feel or every change that takes place in my own body.
I've got a doctor's appointment in a couple of weeks, made before all this happened, but I guess it will be as good a time as any to start asking a lot of questions.
Of course this has me worried for other reasons too.
John's brother had bladder cancer a couple of years ago, his father had prostate cancer a few years ago, and now his sister if full of cancer. I know John and his other sister are probably both beside themselves wondering if they are next.
Monday, January 25, 2010
5 minutes
Picked Bootsy up from the vet Friday afternoon. I'm $344 poorer for the experience.
I got her home, took her in the house, took off the leash and then rushed to take the other two dogs out to potty real quick.
By the time I got them done and I'd gotten my shoes kicked off, she'd already started chewing at the stitches. GRRRR!!!
A bright red bloody area was showing, so I got the muzzle on her pronto. Fortunately, I think I got to her before any real damage was done, but it looked ugly at the moment. The poor dog has had the muzzle on almost non-stop since then, only taking it off of her long enough to eat her meals, take her outside, and allow her a drink of water every so often. I hate doing that to her, but until the stitches come out (another 10 days), that will be her life. I did take it off of her a few times, just for a few minutes to give her a break from wearing it, but seriously, every time I did, within a couple of minutes she would turn her attention to the stitches. She makes me crazy at times!!
Fortunately, John is off work today and foregoing his usual plans of spending it with his dad/sister, and is staying home to keep an eye on her. The rest of the week, she's coming to work with me. I just hope she does better than Eliott did a couple of summers ago when I brought him in for bring-your-pet-to-work-day. He did great 'til it was time to go home, then he freaked out and wouldn't go down the stairs. I had to have John drive all the way to LaGrange and half carry/half drag him half way down the staircase and then toss him the rest of the way. At least if Bootsy freaks out over going down them, she's light enough I think I could drag her without calling for John's help. We'll see what happens.
I got her home, took her in the house, took off the leash and then rushed to take the other two dogs out to potty real quick.
By the time I got them done and I'd gotten my shoes kicked off, she'd already started chewing at the stitches. GRRRR!!!
A bright red bloody area was showing, so I got the muzzle on her pronto. Fortunately, I think I got to her before any real damage was done, but it looked ugly at the moment. The poor dog has had the muzzle on almost non-stop since then, only taking it off of her long enough to eat her meals, take her outside, and allow her a drink of water every so often. I hate doing that to her, but until the stitches come out (another 10 days), that will be her life. I did take it off of her a few times, just for a few minutes to give her a break from wearing it, but seriously, every time I did, within a couple of minutes she would turn her attention to the stitches. She makes me crazy at times!!
Fortunately, John is off work today and foregoing his usual plans of spending it with his dad/sister, and is staying home to keep an eye on her. The rest of the week, she's coming to work with me. I just hope she does better than Eliott did a couple of summers ago when I brought him in for bring-your-pet-to-work-day. He did great 'til it was time to go home, then he freaked out and wouldn't go down the stairs. I had to have John drive all the way to LaGrange and half carry/half drag him half way down the staircase and then toss him the rest of the way. At least if Bootsy freaks out over going down them, she's light enough I think I could drag her without calling for John's help. We'll see what happens.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Bootsy
Today is the day. I dropped Bootsy off at the vet's office on the way to work. I'm not quite sure which one of us it was harder on, her or me. I've no doubt her little feelings were hurt and was wondering to herself "what have I done to deserve being left here and why wasn't I allowed to eat breakfast this morning?" I felt like my guts were being ripped out at deceiving her. I had John take her out for a walk while I fed the other two dogs, just so they wouldn't be eating in front of her, but as soon as she came inside, she went and stood by her food dish. It made me so sad to have to purposely neglect her. She finally gave up, went and lied down on her cushion, curled up tight, looking like an abandon and abused child.
Dogs are so forgiving though. She seemed to forget all about having been starved this morning and was so very excited when I put the leash on her and took her out to the car with me. She loves to go for a ride in the car, yet by the time I had parked at the vet's office, she knew something was up. Normally she's standing at the door, waiting to push her way out, but not this morning. Instead, she was lying quietly, didn't even stand up when I opened the door. I had to reach in and put the leash on her. I felt like a louse leading her to the kennel, and even worse shutting the door on her and leaving her there. I hope she forgives me. I did get one of her famous Bootsy hugs before I left, 'though I think that made it even harder on me.
Dogs are so forgiving though. She seemed to forget all about having been starved this morning and was so very excited when I put the leash on her and took her out to the car with me. She loves to go for a ride in the car, yet by the time I had parked at the vet's office, she knew something was up. Normally she's standing at the door, waiting to push her way out, but not this morning. Instead, she was lying quietly, didn't even stand up when I opened the door. I had to reach in and put the leash on her. I felt like a louse leading her to the kennel, and even worse shutting the door on her and leaving her there. I hope she forgives me. I did get one of her famous Bootsy hugs before I left, 'though I think that made it even harder on me.
This is how she looked on Sunday. Even though she looks surprisingly calm in the photo, she was actually shaking in her boots (pun intended).
This is the growth on her hind leg that she keeps chewing on.
I didn't get a picture of the front leg, as there really isn't much to see (unless it's bleeding).
Update...
I called the vet's office about 1:30 to check on my girl. Was informed she was doing just fine.
I know the hard part will come in a few days, when her attention will turn towards the stitches.
Oh the pressure!!!
I've once again got pressure... water pressure that is.
As I mentioned last week, the husband finally replaced the bathroom faucet. It's been a week now and it's still working, no leaks. Yea!!!
It's amazing how something so simple can make me so happy. I don't ever want it said that I'm hard to please. I especially love that this faucet has a higher arch to it.
Okay, so this past Sunday, the husband set out to install the kitchen faucet. He opened the box and was dismayed to find we'd been screwed over. Not only did the box not have any instructions in it, the faucet that was in the box wasn't the one we'd picked out, and also, it was one somebody else had returned to the store after attempting to install. S.O.B's.!!!!
As I'd left the receipt in my desk at work, he couldn't return it 'til later in the week.
He was off work yesterday, so was finally able to get the job done. When I arrived home yesterday, my new faucet was installed, so pretty, so functional and properly functioning! No drips, no leaks, and best of all, I once again have proper water pressure. Woo-Hoo!!!
He was off work yesterday, so was finally able to get the job done. When I arrived home yesterday, my new faucet was installed, so pretty, so functional and properly functioning! No drips, no leaks, and best of all, I once again have proper water pressure. Woo-Hoo!!!
Here is my crappy old kitchen faucet...
notice the bowl I keep in place to catch the drips.
And here is my lovely new faucet...
I'm so unaccustomed to having water pressure, that we have both nearly soaked ourselves when we turn on the faucet. We'll have to re-train ourselves on how to use the kitchen sprayer. ;)
Thursday, January 21, 2010
St. Baldricks 2010
I've been checking the website daily, and finally, the venue I always participate with got their site up and running today. I'm signed up to participate once again to get my head shaved. If anyone is interested in making a donation to this worthy cause, here is the link to my page:
http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/participantid/366849
I've still got some tweaking to do and I need to find a photo to add to it.
I'm meeting some ol' friends for dinner tonight and I'm going to do some arm twisting to get some of them to join me for the event.
I'd like to dedicate this years shave to the granddaughter of one of our retired fire fighters. I hope to get some of the particulars on little Lauren soon and perhaps get it posted on the site as well, if her parents/grandparents don't mind.
Two more months of bad hair days. It will be a long two months!!
http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/participantid/366849
I've still got some tweaking to do and I need to find a photo to add to it.
I'm meeting some ol' friends for dinner tonight and I'm going to do some arm twisting to get some of them to join me for the event.
I'd like to dedicate this years shave to the granddaughter of one of our retired fire fighters. I hope to get some of the particulars on little Lauren soon and perhaps get it posted on the site as well, if her parents/grandparents don't mind.
Two more months of bad hair days. It will be a long two months!!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I found Perry!!!!
I went to CBS's website yesterday to look for something and instead made a fabulously delicious discovery.
They have the old, black & white Perry Mason episodes available to watch on-line. **SWOON**
I think you all know me well enough by now to know what a mystery/detective story freak I am. He is without a doubt, my all-time leading FAVE!!!!
Now, on those occasional slow days, Perry helps me to pass the time.
I cried when Raymond Burr died, as it meant the end of the Perry Mason movies. Oh sure, NBC (which now had the rights to his show) produced a couple of movies with fill-ins like Hal Holbrook and Paul Sorvino, but it just wasn't the same. There could only be one Perry Mason, and now, thanks to CBS, I can continue to enjoy his work. Thanks CBS!!!!
Monday, January 18, 2010
Self mutilating
My darling black child, Bootsy, is having surgery this coming Friday. Four days and counting.
She's got a funky growth on her right hind leg, which initially was slow growing, but has recently started growing rather fast, and she won't leave it alone. She's neurotic. If she isn't chewing on a toy or blanket, then she's chewing on herself. Yes, I have a child that self-mutilates.
As if this isn't bad enough, she has a small skin-tag on her right front leg, right at the elbow. If she bumps it on something it will start bleeding easily, and it's very difficult to get it stopped. Lately though, Miss Neurotic has started chewing on this growth as well, which has made the wound larger, and meaning it bleeds more often and in even larger quantities, sometimes several times a day. I don't know how she's kept from bleeding to death.
My house looks like a major crime scene. At times it looks as if the Manson Family did the decorating.
I was trying everything yesterday to get the flow of blood to stop... pressure didn't work, ice on the area didn't work, super glue didn't work. Finally the styptic(sp?) powder slowed it enough for us to get a gauze pad over it and then several feet of gauze wrapped around her leg to hold it in place. Of course, she wanted to pull the bandage off, and did eventually succeed at this later in the day. It got to the point, once we had her bandaged, that I fed her 2 tranquilizers, put the muzzle on her, and locked her in the dog crate.
Of course before I had tried all this, we had put the e-collar on her. What a disaster! She freaked out!! I suddenly felt as if I had a 110 lb. dog stuck to my leg as if attached by velcro. I couldn't take one step away from her without her scrambling to catch up to me and cling to my leg. This made it difficult for me to get anything accomplished, so that's when we had to resort to the muzzle and tranquilizers. I hated doing that to her, but I was truly at my wits end. As soon as I did take the muzzle off that evening, she immediately started trying to chew on her leg again. **sigh**
I made her sleep in the dog crate last night (without the muzzle), I told John, "if she's going to mutilate herself and bleed to death, at least she'll be confined to the crate instead of bleeding to death all over the house." Over night, she didn't mutilate, but once breakfast was over this morning and she was back on her cushion, she started in again, so I had to put the muzzle back on her and put her back in the crate.
I don't know what I'm going to do for the next few days 'til she has her surgery. Livvie has to use the crate during the day while we're at work because of her epilepsy. And I don't want to muzzle Bootsy while we're gone. I suppose all I can do is keep feeding her doggy-downers when we have to leave to help relax her, cross our fingers and hope for the best.
What I'm really stressing over is what's going to happen once the surgery is done and she has stitches in both legs. If it's anything like when she had stitches in her tail, she'll self-mutilate on a whole new level! That's why she now has a 6" nub instead of her long beautiful tail, because she mutilated the end of it something awful pulling out stitches.
I've already told the boss I may be bringing her to work with me every day next week so that I can keep an eye on her. He said "okay, as long as she doesn't make noise". I just told him not to try petting her as she hates most men.
I'm sure the Boosy-saga will provide much fodder for my blog over the next couple of weeks. Stay tuned...
She's got a funky growth on her right hind leg, which initially was slow growing, but has recently started growing rather fast, and she won't leave it alone. She's neurotic. If she isn't chewing on a toy or blanket, then she's chewing on herself. Yes, I have a child that self-mutilates.
As if this isn't bad enough, she has a small skin-tag on her right front leg, right at the elbow. If she bumps it on something it will start bleeding easily, and it's very difficult to get it stopped. Lately though, Miss Neurotic has started chewing on this growth as well, which has made the wound larger, and meaning it bleeds more often and in even larger quantities, sometimes several times a day. I don't know how she's kept from bleeding to death.
My house looks like a major crime scene. At times it looks as if the Manson Family did the decorating.
I was trying everything yesterday to get the flow of blood to stop... pressure didn't work, ice on the area didn't work, super glue didn't work. Finally the styptic(sp?) powder slowed it enough for us to get a gauze pad over it and then several feet of gauze wrapped around her leg to hold it in place. Of course, she wanted to pull the bandage off, and did eventually succeed at this later in the day. It got to the point, once we had her bandaged, that I fed her 2 tranquilizers, put the muzzle on her, and locked her in the dog crate.
Of course before I had tried all this, we had put the e-collar on her. What a disaster! She freaked out!! I suddenly felt as if I had a 110 lb. dog stuck to my leg as if attached by velcro. I couldn't take one step away from her without her scrambling to catch up to me and cling to my leg. This made it difficult for me to get anything accomplished, so that's when we had to resort to the muzzle and tranquilizers. I hated doing that to her, but I was truly at my wits end. As soon as I did take the muzzle off that evening, she immediately started trying to chew on her leg again. **sigh**
I made her sleep in the dog crate last night (without the muzzle), I told John, "if she's going to mutilate herself and bleed to death, at least she'll be confined to the crate instead of bleeding to death all over the house." Over night, she didn't mutilate, but once breakfast was over this morning and she was back on her cushion, she started in again, so I had to put the muzzle back on her and put her back in the crate.
I don't know what I'm going to do for the next few days 'til she has her surgery. Livvie has to use the crate during the day while we're at work because of her epilepsy. And I don't want to muzzle Bootsy while we're gone. I suppose all I can do is keep feeding her doggy-downers when we have to leave to help relax her, cross our fingers and hope for the best.
What I'm really stressing over is what's going to happen once the surgery is done and she has stitches in both legs. If it's anything like when she had stitches in her tail, she'll self-mutilate on a whole new level! That's why she now has a 6" nub instead of her long beautiful tail, because she mutilated the end of it something awful pulling out stitches.
I've already told the boss I may be bringing her to work with me every day next week so that I can keep an eye on her. He said "okay, as long as she doesn't make noise". I just told him not to try petting her as she hates most men.
I'm sure the Boosy-saga will provide much fodder for my blog over the next couple of weeks. Stay tuned...
Friday, January 15, 2010
I was so happy. And then...
I went to bed so happy last night.
Our house is slowly falling apart all around us, and I'm not even talking about all the damage the dogs have caused. No, I'm referring to the faucets that drip, the downspout that's come loose from the guttering, the windows that don't have a good seal... the stuff that just stops working very well after it gets a few years of use on it.
We've now been in our house 16 years and 11 days. It's time to start making some repairs, if only one at a time. Baby steps. Baby steps.
We've got three faucets that needed to be fixed/replaced. I'm not even going to discuss our bathtub faucet. However, the kitchen faucet has been dripping for a couple of years now. If you don't get that handle in "just the right position" and turn the faucet to the left side, then it will drip and drive you batty if you're within earshot. Long ago, I started leaving a bowl in the sink to catch the drips and too, while I'm waiting for the water to warm up, I let it run into the dish and then give this to the dogs. Better than letting it just go down the drain.
The bathroom faucet, it started dripping a couple of years ago also, but at least if you turn the knob so that it points between the 10 and 11 o'clock position then it won't. Anything past 12 and it drips like crazy, anything before 10, and it's a slow drip.
Enough was enough!! Monday evening, I told the husband come hell or high water, we were going to purchase new faucets. So after dinner, we went to Lowes and I perused the many choices on the wall. Needless to say, I was in stick-shock!! Who knew faucets could be so expensive?? Some were several hundred dollars. OMG!! Were these things going to reach out and rub my hands together for me or were they going to read my mind and know whether I was wanting hot, cold, or just warm water? Good grief!!
Needless to say, we chose at the low end. Not the cheapest, but close to it.
As soon as we got home, the husband grabbed boxes from the garage and started clearing all the junk out from underneath the bathroom sink. Wow! We've accumulated a lot of crap under there. I guess this would be a good time to sort through it and throw some stuff away. That's about all he got accomplished that first night. Didn't have time Tuesday. Wednesday, he laid down in the bathroom floor and examined the pipes under the sink and (and this impressed me to no end!!) he actually looked at the directions. What man ever does this???
He decided this might actually take him several hours to accomplish and as it was already after 7pm, I told him to wait to Sunday afternoon or 'til his next day off. He agreed. Last night however, he came home and started to tackle it again.
He got the old faucet removed, and then ran into his first stumbling block. The old faucet had copper pipes that were about 2' long. The new faucet had copper pipes that were about 6" long. Don't think the new one will quite stretch. He took both back to Lowe's and asked advice (and I didn't even have to go with him!!) He came back after having spent another $10 purchasing a pair of hoses that would fill in the gap.
Within half an hour, he had the new faucet installed and it works beautifully. It's a Moen... "buy it for looks, buy it for life". Indeed! I love my new faucet. No drips. No need to position the handle "just so". And it's so nice and shiny. I went through several pieces of papertowel this morning, wiping it off every time I saw a drop of water splashed on it, in my efforts to keep it clean and shiny. Trust me, that novelty will wear off real quick. Now he can tackle the kitchen sink with a little more confidence tonight.
So as I said at the beginning, I went to bed last night, so happy. But, gee, what a difference 9 hours can make.
I had gone to bed before John. He didn't have to be at work 'til 8am this morning (totally unheard of for him!!!), so he slept in 'til 6am. The dogs had actually woke me up a little before then, but as it only sounded like play coming from the other room, I made no effort to get up and take them out, feeling they could wait just a few minutes.
**sigh**
Once I finally crawled from the bed and straightened my achy back out enough so that I could walk upright, I went to the living room and flicked on the light. My blood pressure immediately sky rocketed at the mess I saw. But did the dogs get blamed for the mess? No. They are dogs. John is the one that got yelled and screamed at for forgetting to place the yoga ball in my recliner, thus leaving the chair as fair game for one of the dogs to try and get in. Olivia can get in my chair usually without any problems. Only on a couple of rare occasions in the past has she tipped it over backwards, so I'm having my doubts that it was her. Bootsy on the other hand...
Ever since we moved the furniture about 3 years ago and got the dogs their own futon to sleep on, she stopped getting onto our furniture. Then, all of a sudden, completely out of the blue about 2 weeks ago, she started getting up on the chair that Olivia usually sleeps on. We keep a milk crate under the ottoman of this chair so it won't tip forward and as there is a table right behind it, it can't tip over backwards. But if Bootsy tried to climb in my chair, she'd been rocking back and forth wildly and easily have tipped it over. As if the tipped over chair wasn't bad enough, whichever dog did it, also knocked over the table lamp, breaking the lamp shade and shattering the bulb (not a cheap bulb either).
And as if all this wasn't bad enough, one of the dogs had thrown up in the hallway (at least they had the courtesy to go on the vinyl so it was easier for me to clean up).
And, to make matters even worse still, the skin tag that Bootsy has on her right elbow was bleeding profusely and there were large blood stains all over the house. The carpet, the recliner, the dogs bedding, the kitchen floor. It looked like a war zone in my house (more so than usual).
I went from complete giddiness over my new faucet and a mere nine hours later I felt I was living in the depths of hell. Perhaps if he can get that other faucet installed tonight, my good mood will return.
Our house is slowly falling apart all around us, and I'm not even talking about all the damage the dogs have caused. No, I'm referring to the faucets that drip, the downspout that's come loose from the guttering, the windows that don't have a good seal... the stuff that just stops working very well after it gets a few years of use on it.
We've now been in our house 16 years and 11 days. It's time to start making some repairs, if only one at a time. Baby steps. Baby steps.
We've got three faucets that needed to be fixed/replaced. I'm not even going to discuss our bathtub faucet. However, the kitchen faucet has been dripping for a couple of years now. If you don't get that handle in "just the right position" and turn the faucet to the left side, then it will drip and drive you batty if you're within earshot. Long ago, I started leaving a bowl in the sink to catch the drips and too, while I'm waiting for the water to warm up, I let it run into the dish and then give this to the dogs. Better than letting it just go down the drain.
The bathroom faucet, it started dripping a couple of years ago also, but at least if you turn the knob so that it points between the 10 and 11 o'clock position then it won't. Anything past 12 and it drips like crazy, anything before 10, and it's a slow drip.
Enough was enough!! Monday evening, I told the husband come hell or high water, we were going to purchase new faucets. So after dinner, we went to Lowes and I perused the many choices on the wall. Needless to say, I was in stick-shock!! Who knew faucets could be so expensive?? Some were several hundred dollars. OMG!! Were these things going to reach out and rub my hands together for me or were they going to read my mind and know whether I was wanting hot, cold, or just warm water? Good grief!!
Needless to say, we chose at the low end. Not the cheapest, but close to it.
As soon as we got home, the husband grabbed boxes from the garage and started clearing all the junk out from underneath the bathroom sink. Wow! We've accumulated a lot of crap under there. I guess this would be a good time to sort through it and throw some stuff away. That's about all he got accomplished that first night. Didn't have time Tuesday. Wednesday, he laid down in the bathroom floor and examined the pipes under the sink and (and this impressed me to no end!!) he actually looked at the directions. What man ever does this???
He decided this might actually take him several hours to accomplish and as it was already after 7pm, I told him to wait to Sunday afternoon or 'til his next day off. He agreed. Last night however, he came home and started to tackle it again.
He got the old faucet removed, and then ran into his first stumbling block. The old faucet had copper pipes that were about 2' long. The new faucet had copper pipes that were about 6" long. Don't think the new one will quite stretch. He took both back to Lowe's and asked advice (and I didn't even have to go with him!!) He came back after having spent another $10 purchasing a pair of hoses that would fill in the gap.
Within half an hour, he had the new faucet installed and it works beautifully. It's a Moen... "buy it for looks, buy it for life". Indeed! I love my new faucet. No drips. No need to position the handle "just so". And it's so nice and shiny. I went through several pieces of papertowel this morning, wiping it off every time I saw a drop of water splashed on it, in my efforts to keep it clean and shiny. Trust me, that novelty will wear off real quick. Now he can tackle the kitchen sink with a little more confidence tonight.
So as I said at the beginning, I went to bed last night, so happy. But, gee, what a difference 9 hours can make.
I had gone to bed before John. He didn't have to be at work 'til 8am this morning (totally unheard of for him!!!), so he slept in 'til 6am. The dogs had actually woke me up a little before then, but as it only sounded like play coming from the other room, I made no effort to get up and take them out, feeling they could wait just a few minutes.
**sigh**
Once I finally crawled from the bed and straightened my achy back out enough so that I could walk upright, I went to the living room and flicked on the light. My blood pressure immediately sky rocketed at the mess I saw. But did the dogs get blamed for the mess? No. They are dogs. John is the one that got yelled and screamed at for forgetting to place the yoga ball in my recliner, thus leaving the chair as fair game for one of the dogs to try and get in. Olivia can get in my chair usually without any problems. Only on a couple of rare occasions in the past has she tipped it over backwards, so I'm having my doubts that it was her. Bootsy on the other hand...
Ever since we moved the furniture about 3 years ago and got the dogs their own futon to sleep on, she stopped getting onto our furniture. Then, all of a sudden, completely out of the blue about 2 weeks ago, she started getting up on the chair that Olivia usually sleeps on. We keep a milk crate under the ottoman of this chair so it won't tip forward and as there is a table right behind it, it can't tip over backwards. But if Bootsy tried to climb in my chair, she'd been rocking back and forth wildly and easily have tipped it over. As if the tipped over chair wasn't bad enough, whichever dog did it, also knocked over the table lamp, breaking the lamp shade and shattering the bulb (not a cheap bulb either).
And as if all this wasn't bad enough, one of the dogs had thrown up in the hallway (at least they had the courtesy to go on the vinyl so it was easier for me to clean up).
And, to make matters even worse still, the skin tag that Bootsy has on her right elbow was bleeding profusely and there were large blood stains all over the house. The carpet, the recliner, the dogs bedding, the kitchen floor. It looked like a war zone in my house (more so than usual).
I went from complete giddiness over my new faucet and a mere nine hours later I felt I was living in the depths of hell. Perhaps if he can get that other faucet installed tonight, my good mood will return.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
To my friends: do me a favor...
About 6 years ago, I met a friend and her partner for lunch one day. It was the first time (and last) I had met the woman as they broke up a short time later. The woman was nice enough, and as long as she made my friend happy, I suppose that's all that mattered. But truly, I had a hard time looking her in the face, much less sitting directly across from her at lunch. It somewhat ruined my appetite... all the facial hair this woman had. I remember resisting the urge to ask her if she ever looked in the mirror and why she didn't do something about it.
I mean seriously, she had more facial hair than my husband gets when he goes for a month without shaving. And no, I'm NOT exaggerating.
Now I'm sure some of you are probably going to argue that perhaps she was taking male hormones in order to better "play the part" in their relationship, but I would argue differently.
Since I never saw her again, I don't know if she ever shaved it off, plucked it out, or had it waxed away, but it gives me the willies every time I think about it.
We have a neighbor, and for the 16 years I've known this woman, she too has had a facial hair problem, although to her credit, she does make some attempt to do something about it. I'm guessing she must take scissors and try to trim them back, 'though how often I've no idea. I just know whenever I see her, she's always got a lot of stubble above her upper lip and it makes me crazy.
Perhaps it was because of these women that I became aware of my own stubble that started appearing a few years ago. I blogged about it once before. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's not anything I can (successfully) hide either. I don't feel I'm a vain person, yet for as much time as I spend peering into the mirror each day, looking for those little stubbles, hunting them down and tweezing them away, you'd think I was the vainest person on earth. I feel if I don't yank them out by the root as soon as I see or feel them (and I often feel them long before I'd ever see them), then I'm liable to end up looking like one of those other women and grossing others out.
No matter how much I've hunted for and tweezed in the morning before going to work, I find myself running my fingers over my neck and chin several times throughout the day, seeking out those little blonde stubbles that aren't so easy to see, practically creating gouge marks on my neck in an effort to dig them out as they are so tiny they're nearly impossible to grab with the tweezers, yet they're just big enough to feel and annoy the sh*t out of me.
So for those of you that are my close friends, please do me this favor: If you see me and you happen to notice a whisker that I've missed, please take me aside and tell me about it instead of letting me walk around grossing others out.
I mean seriously, she had more facial hair than my husband gets when he goes for a month without shaving. And no, I'm NOT exaggerating.
Now I'm sure some of you are probably going to argue that perhaps she was taking male hormones in order to better "play the part" in their relationship, but I would argue differently.
Since I never saw her again, I don't know if she ever shaved it off, plucked it out, or had it waxed away, but it gives me the willies every time I think about it.
We have a neighbor, and for the 16 years I've known this woman, she too has had a facial hair problem, although to her credit, she does make some attempt to do something about it. I'm guessing she must take scissors and try to trim them back, 'though how often I've no idea. I just know whenever I see her, she's always got a lot of stubble above her upper lip and it makes me crazy.
Perhaps it was because of these women that I became aware of my own stubble that started appearing a few years ago. I blogged about it once before. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's not anything I can (successfully) hide either. I don't feel I'm a vain person, yet for as much time as I spend peering into the mirror each day, looking for those little stubbles, hunting them down and tweezing them away, you'd think I was the vainest person on earth. I feel if I don't yank them out by the root as soon as I see or feel them (and I often feel them long before I'd ever see them), then I'm liable to end up looking like one of those other women and grossing others out.
No matter how much I've hunted for and tweezed in the morning before going to work, I find myself running my fingers over my neck and chin several times throughout the day, seeking out those little blonde stubbles that aren't so easy to see, practically creating gouge marks on my neck in an effort to dig them out as they are so tiny they're nearly impossible to grab with the tweezers, yet they're just big enough to feel and annoy the sh*t out of me.
So for those of you that are my close friends, please do me this favor: If you see me and you happen to notice a whisker that I've missed, please take me aside and tell me about it instead of letting me walk around grossing others out.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Nostalgic moment
It's that time of year again, when the seed catalogs start filling the mail boxes, and we start to dream of warmer springtime weather so we can start planting our gardens and seeing new life emerge from the earth.
It's times like these that I wish even more that we lived in the country, someplace with a couple of acres so I could have a nice sized garden and plant lots and lots of trees, bushes and flowers.
Of course, now that the swimming pool is gone, that frees up a substantial amount of yard space.
I do believe I've found a someone with a dump truck & a bobcat that can fill in our hole AND, perhaps level out that horrible mound in the corner. I told John I want those cedar trees cut down (never did like them), and once that area is cleared, it would free up a lot of space as well.
So, as I was looking through the Burgess seed catalog last night, I came across persimmon and paw paw trees. I haven't seen either one of those since I was a little girl. My grandmother's next door neighbor had them in her yard and the branches of the paw paw hung over the fence into my gma's yard. I loved eating them and was rather sad when the tree finally was cut down.
The persimmons my gma would go over and pick, sometimes I'd help her gather them up and she'd make jelly or pudding out of them. I could eat a few of them straight from the tree, 'though sometimes they'd make me pucker, but I never liked the cooked products she made.
Yep, the seed catalogs always remind me of my childhood, whether those trees I mentioned, the honeysuckle we kids would pick and drink the nectar from, or the concord grapes my grandparents grew and my gma would make into jelly or, best of all, grape pies. My favorite!!!
It's times like these that I wish even more that we lived in the country, someplace with a couple of acres so I could have a nice sized garden and plant lots and lots of trees, bushes and flowers.
Of course, now that the swimming pool is gone, that frees up a substantial amount of yard space.
I do believe I've found a someone with a dump truck & a bobcat that can fill in our hole AND, perhaps level out that horrible mound in the corner. I told John I want those cedar trees cut down (never did like them), and once that area is cleared, it would free up a lot of space as well.
So, as I was looking through the Burgess seed catalog last night, I came across persimmon and paw paw trees. I haven't seen either one of those since I was a little girl. My grandmother's next door neighbor had them in her yard and the branches of the paw paw hung over the fence into my gma's yard. I loved eating them and was rather sad when the tree finally was cut down.
The persimmons my gma would go over and pick, sometimes I'd help her gather them up and she'd make jelly or pudding out of them. I could eat a few of them straight from the tree, 'though sometimes they'd make me pucker, but I never liked the cooked products she made.
Yep, the seed catalogs always remind me of my childhood, whether those trees I mentioned, the honeysuckle we kids would pick and drink the nectar from, or the concord grapes my grandparents grew and my gma would make into jelly or, best of all, grape pies. My favorite!!!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Ice skating anybody?
Anybody want to go ice skating? 'Cause I think Hell just froze over.
Many of you are aware of my struggles with my husband's side of the family and the tug-o-war he finds himself in, trying to keep everyone happy.
I just got a phone call from one of his family members asking what plans I had made for his upcoming birthday. I replied, "none".
There was a long bit of silence and then the in-law finally said, "none? It's his 50th birthday."
me: I didn't plan anything. I figured we'd do whatever you all wanted to do.
in-law: But you're his wife.
This is the moment when I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming AND to check my caller-id to make sure I was actually talking to my in-law.
Once I'd shaken the shock from my senses...
me: Yeah, but everybody seems to forget that fact.
in-law: well not me, that's why I'm calling.
Truly, I felt like laughing out loud, but managed to bite my tongue.
I sighed and said, "well, I didn't plan anything. I told him I'd bake him a cake and I figured we'd all go to dinner wherever."
The conversation ended shortly thereafter, and after I hung up, I still wasn't convinced I hadn't been dreaming. Perhaps in my dreams, Hell froze over, as I was finally acknowledged, if only by one person, that I am indeed, John's wife.
Of course, what's really laughable about all this is if I had planned something, say intimate for just the 2 of us, that wouldn't have set well with his family, as they feel they have to be a part of everything, and that birthdays are most certainly meant to be celebrated, with presents. They would've either nixed my plans, or else gone ahead and planned a separate celebration. So I might as well just let them do whatever they want. Saves me the time, money and effort of throwing a party.
The ice is melting fast!
Many of you are aware of my struggles with my husband's side of the family and the tug-o-war he finds himself in, trying to keep everyone happy.
I just got a phone call from one of his family members asking what plans I had made for his upcoming birthday. I replied, "none".
There was a long bit of silence and then the in-law finally said, "none? It's his 50th birthday."
me: I didn't plan anything. I figured we'd do whatever you all wanted to do.
in-law: But you're his wife.
This is the moment when I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming AND to check my caller-id to make sure I was actually talking to my in-law.
Once I'd shaken the shock from my senses...
me: Yeah, but everybody seems to forget that fact.
in-law: well not me, that's why I'm calling.
Truly, I felt like laughing out loud, but managed to bite my tongue.
I sighed and said, "well, I didn't plan anything. I told him I'd bake him a cake and I figured we'd all go to dinner wherever."
The conversation ended shortly thereafter, and after I hung up, I still wasn't convinced I hadn't been dreaming. Perhaps in my dreams, Hell froze over, as I was finally acknowledged, if only by one person, that I am indeed, John's wife.
Of course, what's really laughable about all this is if I had planned something, say intimate for just the 2 of us, that wouldn't have set well with his family, as they feel they have to be a part of everything, and that birthdays are most certainly meant to be celebrated, with presents. They would've either nixed my plans, or else gone ahead and planned a separate celebration. So I might as well just let them do whatever they want. Saves me the time, money and effort of throwing a party.
The ice is melting fast!
Spreading the word
I'm going to do a little bit of advertising here for a friend.
I've known her, (dare I admit this?) for 32 years... Eek!!... since she was a mere 3 years old.
She's all grown up now and has a fledgling, home-based business, creating crafts, wearable art and other items. She will work with the individual to come up with just the perfect, custom piece to satisfy even the fussiest of clients.
She has created a blog to show off some of her creations, so if you get a chance, stop by and have a look. If you'd like, leave a comment whether you really like it, think it's quirky, or have a critique.
The blog is: http://snickerdoodlescrochet.blogspot.com/
Her email is: snickerdoodlescrochet@yahoo.com
I've known her, (dare I admit this?) for 32 years... Eek!!... since she was a mere 3 years old.
She's all grown up now and has a fledgling, home-based business, creating crafts, wearable art and other items. She will work with the individual to come up with just the perfect, custom piece to satisfy even the fussiest of clients.
She has created a blog to show off some of her creations, so if you get a chance, stop by and have a look. If you'd like, leave a comment whether you really like it, think it's quirky, or have a critique.
The blog is: http://snickerdoodlescrochet.blogspot.com/
Her email is: snickerdoodlescrochet@yahoo.com
Monday, January 11, 2010
What is offensive?
Once upon a time, I used to be able to access the website for the stables where I take riding lessons. But for the past few weeks, I've been unable to access it. At first, I thought the site was down, but the riding instructor wasn't aware of any problems.
Then I found out that the site was blocked by my company, not at the location level, but at the corporate level, for questionable and possibly offensive content.
Huh??
What could possibly be offensive about a local riding stable that shows pix of some of the horses and mentions some of their accomplishments. Perhaps it's because the horses don't have any clothes on? The riders however are clothed.
The only thing I can come up with that MIGHT be considered questionably offensive is the owner/instructors last name: Dickey
So does this mean that any site I visit that mentions anyone with the name DICK would be offensive? Would Dick Clark's website be considered offensive? That man is about as American-Applepie-squeaky-clean as you can get!
Okay, so IF that's what is making that site offensive, and I'm not saying that it is, but IF...
Then why are so many of the blogs I visit considered okay? Between the pictures, language and content, some should be rated X at times.
If my company is going to ban the riding stables for being run by Dickey, then why not block my friend Gem's site for having P.E.N.I.S. on it. People Encouraging Niceness In Society
Sorry Gem, I don't want you blocked, I'm just saying, "who is to say what is offensive?"
My company has a warped sense of what's offensive.
Then I found out that the site was blocked by my company, not at the location level, but at the corporate level, for questionable and possibly offensive content.
Huh??
What could possibly be offensive about a local riding stable that shows pix of some of the horses and mentions some of their accomplishments. Perhaps it's because the horses don't have any clothes on? The riders however are clothed.
The only thing I can come up with that MIGHT be considered questionably offensive is the owner/instructors last name: Dickey
So does this mean that any site I visit that mentions anyone with the name DICK would be offensive? Would Dick Clark's website be considered offensive? That man is about as American-Applepie-squeaky-clean as you can get!
Okay, so IF that's what is making that site offensive, and I'm not saying that it is, but IF...
Then why are so many of the blogs I visit considered okay? Between the pictures, language and content, some should be rated X at times.
If my company is going to ban the riding stables for being run by Dickey, then why not block my friend Gem's site for having P.E.N.I.S. on it. People Encouraging Niceness In Society
Sorry Gem, I don't want you blocked, I'm just saying, "who is to say what is offensive?"
My company has a warped sense of what's offensive.
Praise
I believe I sung the praises of Ken Towery once before a few months ago.
I'm getting ready to do it again.
My car was due for an oil change back in November, but I've been holding off.
A new K.T. was being built about a mile and a half from our house, easily within walking distance of home if I didn't want to sit around in their waiting area, so I've been patiently waiting for them to open. It was beginning t0 seem as if it would never happen.
Then, this past Friday night as I was coming home from the chiropractor, I noticed there were lights on at K.T. and cars in the bays. They were open!! Hallelujah!! I knew what I was going to do Saturday morning.
I arrived shortly before 8am and was asked if I had an appointment. I didn't. I was then informed that they were pretty much already booked up for the day, but if wanted to leave my car, then they might be able to work it in later in the day. Nope, I didn't want to walk back home in the frigid 17-degree weather across icy sidewalks. The clerk informed me that Monday was filling up fast as well, and I paused a moment to debate whether or not I should make the appointment for then and have John bring my car up, or just shoot for next Saturday. While trying to make up my mind, I asked if I could at least get new wiper blades while I was there. He hesitated, told me to hold on a moment, stepped out into the bay area, came back in and told me he'd work me in. He said "a lot of the people that had made appointments had said they'd be in early". He didn't elaborate, but I'm guessing that some of them hadn't shown up yet, so instead of having his mechanics standing around doing nothing waiting on them, he could have them working. I was in and out in an hours time.
While I was waiting, I called the husband and asked if his vehicle needed any service, for if it did, I would go on and make an appointment for Monday. He declined, stating it hadn't been that long since it had last been serviced.
This morning he called me and informed me that he should've taken me up on my offer, because when he went out this morning, one of his tires was nearly flat.
**sigh**
Today is Ken Towery's grand opening and I know they'll be packed. Since it's a bit more of an urgent matter than an oil change, hopefully they'll be able to work him in too. If nothing else, perhaps the location we used to go to can work him in.
One last remark...
The chairs in the waiting room of the new K.T. are so much more comfortable than the horrible ones at the other place. :)
I'm getting ready to do it again.
My car was due for an oil change back in November, but I've been holding off.
A new K.T. was being built about a mile and a half from our house, easily within walking distance of home if I didn't want to sit around in their waiting area, so I've been patiently waiting for them to open. It was beginning t0 seem as if it would never happen.
Then, this past Friday night as I was coming home from the chiropractor, I noticed there were lights on at K.T. and cars in the bays. They were open!! Hallelujah!! I knew what I was going to do Saturday morning.
I arrived shortly before 8am and was asked if I had an appointment. I didn't. I was then informed that they were pretty much already booked up for the day, but if wanted to leave my car, then they might be able to work it in later in the day. Nope, I didn't want to walk back home in the frigid 17-degree weather across icy sidewalks. The clerk informed me that Monday was filling up fast as well, and I paused a moment to debate whether or not I should make the appointment for then and have John bring my car up, or just shoot for next Saturday. While trying to make up my mind, I asked if I could at least get new wiper blades while I was there. He hesitated, told me to hold on a moment, stepped out into the bay area, came back in and told me he'd work me in. He said "a lot of the people that had made appointments had said they'd be in early". He didn't elaborate, but I'm guessing that some of them hadn't shown up yet, so instead of having his mechanics standing around doing nothing waiting on them, he could have them working. I was in and out in an hours time.
While I was waiting, I called the husband and asked if his vehicle needed any service, for if it did, I would go on and make an appointment for Monday. He declined, stating it hadn't been that long since it had last been serviced.
This morning he called me and informed me that he should've taken me up on my offer, because when he went out this morning, one of his tires was nearly flat.
**sigh**
Today is Ken Towery's grand opening and I know they'll be packed. Since it's a bit more of an urgent matter than an oil change, hopefully they'll be able to work him in too. If nothing else, perhaps the location we used to go to can work him in.
One last remark...
The chairs in the waiting room of the new K.T. are so much more comfortable than the horrible ones at the other place. :)
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Sticks & Stones...
I'm going on one of my tirades, so if you don't want to listen to it (er, read about), then skip on past this blog right now.
Whoever the being was that came up with the adage "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me", was a damn fool!
Words can hurt worse than any beating with a stick, and they can rip the heart open and shatter your emotions worse than any stone ever will.
Trust me, I have first hand knowledge of this, and not just an isolated incident. It seems to happen over and over and over again, and I'm getting pretty sick and tired of it.
Why do I end up being everybody else's whipping boy? I am so sick and tired of tip-toeing around others emotions, doing everything in my power to keep from hurting their feelings or offending them. I bite my tongue when I feel like unleashing upon them so much or calling them to task for something they've said/done, it's a wonder I have a tongue left in my head. Yet they seem to think nothing of how their words affect me.
I've been told I'm a cold-hearted bitch (or that's the impression I give), and perhaps that's because I tend not to let others see how much their words/actions affect me. I go off somewhere and cry my heart out in private. It's a wonder I ever make it from point A to point B in my car, because of how much crying I do while driving home from wherever.
It has gotten to the point that I cry in my car so much that I've started keeping a full-size box of Kleenex in there. Don't believe me? Look in my car. Look in the trash bag I keep hanging from the dash and see how many wadded up tissues are in there.
And I'm not talking about the occasional slip-of-the-tongue where someone thoughtlessly says something without thinking. Those things happen. I'm as guilty as anyone. It's the times when people purposely hurl insults, accusations, snide remarks at you, whether to your face, behind your back that you overhear, in an email, or whatever. Seriously, I'm so sick and tired of it.
It hurts and it hurts bad. I've gone through countless tissues just typing this blog so far.
I think over the course of my life, because of all the "abuse" (for lack of a better word), that's why I've been hesitant to make close friends, join in activities outside of work and home, or getting involved with volunteering. If I avoid interaction with people, then I could avoid getting hurt. But is that anyway to live? Okay, so over the past few years I started getting out more, getting involved, making some new friends. And what has happened, it keeps coming back to bite me in the ass.
I finally found a cause I enjoyed being involved in. I put my heart and soul into it, putting in many long, back-breaking hours, helping those that needed my help whenever and wherever I could give it, and yet that cause that has given me so much joy, has also caused me some of the worst pain.
I guess the old saying is true: It's always those we care about the most, that hurt us the most.
I received an email yesterday which, when I initially read it, pissed me off more than anything. It took every ounce of my being not to fire back something hateful immediately. At the time, I decided I wasn't going to dignify it with a response. Once the anger subsided, it turned to hurt and the tears followed. It took 3 and a half hours for me to gather myself and finally decide I was going to reply. Right now, I'm waiting to see whether or not I'm going to be "fired" from that cause.
Maybe I should become a hermit. Maybe I should go back to avoiding interaction with others and just holing up in my house once I'm home from work and not leaving 'til time to go to work again. Perhaps that is the best way to live. I know my dogs will never hurt my feelings.
But where is the joy in sitting home, day after day?
I suppose in order to experience joy and happiness in our lives, we have to experience some pain and sadness as well, in order to appreciate the good times.
Sometimes life just sucks!
Whoever the being was that came up with the adage "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me", was a damn fool!
Words can hurt worse than any beating with a stick, and they can rip the heart open and shatter your emotions worse than any stone ever will.
Trust me, I have first hand knowledge of this, and not just an isolated incident. It seems to happen over and over and over again, and I'm getting pretty sick and tired of it.
Why do I end up being everybody else's whipping boy? I am so sick and tired of tip-toeing around others emotions, doing everything in my power to keep from hurting their feelings or offending them. I bite my tongue when I feel like unleashing upon them so much or calling them to task for something they've said/done, it's a wonder I have a tongue left in my head. Yet they seem to think nothing of how their words affect me.
I've been told I'm a cold-hearted bitch (or that's the impression I give), and perhaps that's because I tend not to let others see how much their words/actions affect me. I go off somewhere and cry my heart out in private. It's a wonder I ever make it from point A to point B in my car, because of how much crying I do while driving home from wherever.
It has gotten to the point that I cry in my car so much that I've started keeping a full-size box of Kleenex in there. Don't believe me? Look in my car. Look in the trash bag I keep hanging from the dash and see how many wadded up tissues are in there.
And I'm not talking about the occasional slip-of-the-tongue where someone thoughtlessly says something without thinking. Those things happen. I'm as guilty as anyone. It's the times when people purposely hurl insults, accusations, snide remarks at you, whether to your face, behind your back that you overhear, in an email, or whatever. Seriously, I'm so sick and tired of it.
It hurts and it hurts bad. I've gone through countless tissues just typing this blog so far.
I think over the course of my life, because of all the "abuse" (for lack of a better word), that's why I've been hesitant to make close friends, join in activities outside of work and home, or getting involved with volunteering. If I avoid interaction with people, then I could avoid getting hurt. But is that anyway to live? Okay, so over the past few years I started getting out more, getting involved, making some new friends. And what has happened, it keeps coming back to bite me in the ass.
I finally found a cause I enjoyed being involved in. I put my heart and soul into it, putting in many long, back-breaking hours, helping those that needed my help whenever and wherever I could give it, and yet that cause that has given me so much joy, has also caused me some of the worst pain.
I guess the old saying is true: It's always those we care about the most, that hurt us the most.
I received an email yesterday which, when I initially read it, pissed me off more than anything. It took every ounce of my being not to fire back something hateful immediately. At the time, I decided I wasn't going to dignify it with a response. Once the anger subsided, it turned to hurt and the tears followed. It took 3 and a half hours for me to gather myself and finally decide I was going to reply. Right now, I'm waiting to see whether or not I'm going to be "fired" from that cause.
Maybe I should become a hermit. Maybe I should go back to avoiding interaction with others and just holing up in my house once I'm home from work and not leaving 'til time to go to work again. Perhaps that is the best way to live. I know my dogs will never hurt my feelings.
But where is the joy in sitting home, day after day?
I suppose in order to experience joy and happiness in our lives, we have to experience some pain and sadness as well, in order to appreciate the good times.
Sometimes life just sucks!
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
A death dream
A friend and former co-worker retired from his job recently. Not because he wanted to, but because my former (and now his former) employer forced him into retirement. SOB's!!! They informed him early in December that he had to be gone by the end of the year (2009).
Last Thursday (12/31), I had a dream that my friend had passed away. It was a bizarre dream in that his wife came to me to make the funeral arrangements, even though I'm not a funeral director and even though she was using a funeral home on the far side of Jefferson County. I remember stressing trying to write his obituary and over the fact he was being buried at "that" place ("that" place being the cemetery that kicked us both to the curb after years of faithful service). I argued he wouldn't want to be buried there, as his wife's family was at a small local cemetery and his family was at Cave Hill.
The alarm woke me and the dream ended, but it left me very disturbed all morning. When I arrived at work, I told my boss about the dream, as he knows my friend too. He said, "well, in a way he has died, or will soon".
He meant this figuratively, and I knew it. My friend lived for his job. He's one of the hardest working people I've ever known in my life. Honest as a day is long. He'd help anybody in any way he could, whether you were friend or stranger. I know how devastating this must be for him, and I wonder what he's going to do now to fill his time.
Later that day, the local, weekly newspaper was delivered. I turned to page 2 where the obituaries are and while just giving them a quick look over, something on the opposite page caught my eye. It was a picture of my friend with a "congratulation on his retirement" that his employer had put in the paper. I thought it was rather appropriate that it was right next to the obituaries.
Last Thursday (12/31), I had a dream that my friend had passed away. It was a bizarre dream in that his wife came to me to make the funeral arrangements, even though I'm not a funeral director and even though she was using a funeral home on the far side of Jefferson County. I remember stressing trying to write his obituary and over the fact he was being buried at "that" place ("that" place being the cemetery that kicked us both to the curb after years of faithful service). I argued he wouldn't want to be buried there, as his wife's family was at a small local cemetery and his family was at Cave Hill.
The alarm woke me and the dream ended, but it left me very disturbed all morning. When I arrived at work, I told my boss about the dream, as he knows my friend too. He said, "well, in a way he has died, or will soon".
He meant this figuratively, and I knew it. My friend lived for his job. He's one of the hardest working people I've ever known in my life. Honest as a day is long. He'd help anybody in any way he could, whether you were friend or stranger. I know how devastating this must be for him, and I wonder what he's going to do now to fill his time.
Later that day, the local, weekly newspaper was delivered. I turned to page 2 where the obituaries are and while just giving them a quick look over, something on the opposite page caught my eye. It was a picture of my friend with a "congratulation on his retirement" that his employer had put in the paper. I thought it was rather appropriate that it was right next to the obituaries.
Monday, January 04, 2010
St. Baldricks 2010
My hair is way past annoying me and I'm more than ready to cut it off. I was debating recently on whether or not I should just go on and do it myself, or force myself to wait 'til March and participate in St. Baldricks. I was considering not doing it this year, but then something happened at dinner Thursday night that changed my mind.
We went to O'Charley's for dinner, early so we could beat the dinner crowd. We were shown to our table and as I was taking my coat off, I noticed a couple sitting three tables away. The woman's back was to me, and over her head, all I could see of her husband was from his eyes upward. There was something about those eyes, forhead and hairline that looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't immediately place him and didn't dwell on it. As I was taking my seat I heard someone call out to John and he turned and headed towards that man. As the man leaned towards John to shake his hand, his whole face came into view and then I immediately recognized him. He was a retired volunteer firefighter from our local department.
I got up and walked over to chat with him and his wife, not really expecting the conversation to be long, more of a "hi, how've you been, have a happy new year, blah, blah, blah" kind of thing. But it did turn lengthy.
We hadn't seen this couple in years. We used to occasionally run into them at the store, and I think I last saw the woman when John was in the hospital about 5 years ago. I bumped into her as I was getting off the elevator, but at that time, didn't have time to really stop and talk.
They mentioned how they were empty-nesters now, all three of their children grown and married having given them 5 grandchildren. They mentioned their 3 yr. old granddaughter , Lauren, having a rare form of cancer. The child's mother discovered a lump on the side of her face that proved cancerous.
It's heartbreaking what this child has had to endure in her short life and will still yet have to endure before she over-comes it (hopefully!!).
That made my mind up right then and there. I'll definitely be participating in St. Baldrick's 2010, in Lauren's honor.
I'm going to see if I can't rally a few of the firefighters that were on back when her grandpa was an active member, to help create a team, despite many of these guys already being folicly challenged. ;)
Wish me luck!
We went to O'Charley's for dinner, early so we could beat the dinner crowd. We were shown to our table and as I was taking my coat off, I noticed a couple sitting three tables away. The woman's back was to me, and over her head, all I could see of her husband was from his eyes upward. There was something about those eyes, forhead and hairline that looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't immediately place him and didn't dwell on it. As I was taking my seat I heard someone call out to John and he turned and headed towards that man. As the man leaned towards John to shake his hand, his whole face came into view and then I immediately recognized him. He was a retired volunteer firefighter from our local department.
I got up and walked over to chat with him and his wife, not really expecting the conversation to be long, more of a "hi, how've you been, have a happy new year, blah, blah, blah" kind of thing. But it did turn lengthy.
We hadn't seen this couple in years. We used to occasionally run into them at the store, and I think I last saw the woman when John was in the hospital about 5 years ago. I bumped into her as I was getting off the elevator, but at that time, didn't have time to really stop and talk.
They mentioned how they were empty-nesters now, all three of their children grown and married having given them 5 grandchildren. They mentioned their 3 yr. old granddaughter , Lauren, having a rare form of cancer. The child's mother discovered a lump on the side of her face that proved cancerous.
It's heartbreaking what this child has had to endure in her short life and will still yet have to endure before she over-comes it (hopefully!!).
That made my mind up right then and there. I'll definitely be participating in St. Baldrick's 2010, in Lauren's honor.
I'm going to see if I can't rally a few of the firefighters that were on back when her grandpa was an active member, to help create a team, despite many of these guys already being folicly challenged. ;)
Wish me luck!
Fuh-Reezing!!!
Brrr! it's cold out there! Gee, you'd think we live in Michigan or Minnesota or someplace far north. The high temp over the weekend was about 24 degrees, and I don't think it's supposed to get any warmer than that for the rest of the week. A few snow flurfies here and there, but no snow to speak of. Better yet, no rain/ice. I actually don't mind the cold weather, as long as there's no ice on the ground. The weatherman is predicting 2-4" of the white stuff by the end of the week. The last time they called for that, I don't think we even got flurries, so we'll see what happens.
Worked at the farm Friday, Saturday and Sunday of the holiday weekend. It wasn't so bad except for the areas that weren't covered up, like the face. I try wearing a scarf, but I can't seem to keep them wrapped around my neck. Besides, I learned the hard way that scarves can be a dangerous thing around some horses... I had one on last week and was standing on the outside of a pasture. One of the ponies approached from the other side, reached through the fence and grabbed one end of my scarf in his teeth and started to pull. Fortunately, I was able to get it out of his grip before he choked me or had me pulled through the fence.
Things were fine when I left there Saturday afternoon, but by the time I arrived back there on Sunday morning, the pipes had frozen to all the faucets in the barn and out in the pastures. All the water troughs were frozen over with 3 - 4" of ice and try as we might, we weren't having any luck getting it busted. We were having to go upstairs to the office kitchen and fill buckets with hot water and carry those out to the pasture so the horses would have access to some H2O. Finally, long about 11am, once the sun had had time to shine down upon things, I was finally able to go out and bust up the ice enough for the horses to access the water below.
If the temps aren't going to rise this week, I don't know how the pipes are going to thaw or what they're going to do about water.
The many trips up and down the stairs carrying buckets of water and the countless whacks I took at the hard ice with a mallet and crow bar did my back in. Once I arrived home Sunday, I crawled in to bed with my heating pad and tenz unit, and applied two ice packs to my throbbing elbow. It was all I could do to crawl out of bed this morning. I'm anxiously awaiting 5:30 and my appointment with my chiropractor. :)
**
If there's one thing I've learned from my volunteering at the farm and from my riding lessons, it's this: no matter how much you think you know, there is always something new to be learned.
I'll be the first to admit, in the whole scheme of things, I know very little about equines. I'm forever learning something new, regardless of how trivial it may seem to others.
Two weeks ago at riding lessons, I learned how to put on a blanket. This may seem silly, but there is a right way and a wrong way. The farm I vol. at doesn't use blankets therefore I've never been exposed to using them, so riding lessons has taught me something useful besides riding skills. Over the weekend, I learned how to soak a horse's foot when they are trying to blow out an abscess.
Always learning something. I love knowledge.
Worked at the farm Friday, Saturday and Sunday of the holiday weekend. It wasn't so bad except for the areas that weren't covered up, like the face. I try wearing a scarf, but I can't seem to keep them wrapped around my neck. Besides, I learned the hard way that scarves can be a dangerous thing around some horses... I had one on last week and was standing on the outside of a pasture. One of the ponies approached from the other side, reached through the fence and grabbed one end of my scarf in his teeth and started to pull. Fortunately, I was able to get it out of his grip before he choked me or had me pulled through the fence.
Things were fine when I left there Saturday afternoon, but by the time I arrived back there on Sunday morning, the pipes had frozen to all the faucets in the barn and out in the pastures. All the water troughs were frozen over with 3 - 4" of ice and try as we might, we weren't having any luck getting it busted. We were having to go upstairs to the office kitchen and fill buckets with hot water and carry those out to the pasture so the horses would have access to some H2O. Finally, long about 11am, once the sun had had time to shine down upon things, I was finally able to go out and bust up the ice enough for the horses to access the water below.
If the temps aren't going to rise this week, I don't know how the pipes are going to thaw or what they're going to do about water.
The many trips up and down the stairs carrying buckets of water and the countless whacks I took at the hard ice with a mallet and crow bar did my back in. Once I arrived home Sunday, I crawled in to bed with my heating pad and tenz unit, and applied two ice packs to my throbbing elbow. It was all I could do to crawl out of bed this morning. I'm anxiously awaiting 5:30 and my appointment with my chiropractor. :)
**
If there's one thing I've learned from my volunteering at the farm and from my riding lessons, it's this: no matter how much you think you know, there is always something new to be learned.
I'll be the first to admit, in the whole scheme of things, I know very little about equines. I'm forever learning something new, regardless of how trivial it may seem to others.
Two weeks ago at riding lessons, I learned how to put on a blanket. This may seem silly, but there is a right way and a wrong way. The farm I vol. at doesn't use blankets therefore I've never been exposed to using them, so riding lessons has taught me something useful besides riding skills. Over the weekend, I learned how to soak a horse's foot when they are trying to blow out an abscess.
Always learning something. I love knowledge.
Doggy-Style!!
I managed to drag John out to the flea market this past weekend. Honestly, I'd just as soon he stayed home as he whined most of the time and when he wasn't whining, he was begging for boy-toys. I had to treat him like the 12 year old he was acting and remind him his birthday was coming up at the end of the month and if he was good, he just might get a new toy at that time.
Anyway...
There was a booth that was selling pet related items and they had a big rack of doggy clothing. I really didn't hold out much hope of finding anything that would fit one of my great beasts, as nothing I've bought in the past ever fits, but I had nothing but time on my hands, so I dug through the boxes of winter coats. I found an XXL that said it was large enough for a Great Dane. I was somewhat skeptical, but for $6.00 I was willing to take a chance. I wasn't crazy about the print-pattern, but again, for $6.00, I would suck it up.
At home, I removed it from the package, unfastened it, wrestled it onto Olivia and took her for a walk. I'm delighted to say that it fits her pretty well. Probably could stand for it to be a couple of inches longer to completely cover her back, but all in all, it fits nicely. I'm wishing now I'd bought a couple of others for the Bootsy and Eliott (he's in touch with his feminine side and would have no problems wearing pink). Olivia now stands patiently whenever I put her coat on her.
Without further ado, I give you the latest in doggy fashion, modeled by Olivia!
Yes, pink camouflage. Various shades of pink with a hint of brown. :(
Anyway...
There was a booth that was selling pet related items and they had a big rack of doggy clothing. I really didn't hold out much hope of finding anything that would fit one of my great beasts, as nothing I've bought in the past ever fits, but I had nothing but time on my hands, so I dug through the boxes of winter coats. I found an XXL that said it was large enough for a Great Dane. I was somewhat skeptical, but for $6.00 I was willing to take a chance. I wasn't crazy about the print-pattern, but again, for $6.00, I would suck it up.
At home, I removed it from the package, unfastened it, wrestled it onto Olivia and took her for a walk. I'm delighted to say that it fits her pretty well. Probably could stand for it to be a couple of inches longer to completely cover her back, but all in all, it fits nicely. I'm wishing now I'd bought a couple of others for the Bootsy and Eliott (he's in touch with his feminine side and would have no problems wearing pink). Olivia now stands patiently whenever I put her coat on her.
Without further ado, I give you the latest in doggy fashion, modeled by Olivia!
Yes, pink camouflage. Various shades of pink with a hint of brown. :(
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