Fly with me

Late on Thursday, I was offered a chance to go see my boy toy out of town where he had a court hearing for work. I said sure. I spent most of the night, until 4 am, working on finding just the right flight at the right price. I admit I rather enjoy doing that, searching around the web for travel. I check several sites to fly and for trains and whatever seems logical. I was happy with my choice, because the price was right, the times were good, and the flight was out of Flint, MI, which is much nicer to deal with than Detroit. The Flint airport isn't much bigger than a mall. The parking is a dream.

The next day, really the same day, I get notice that due to Gerald Ford's death and mourning, federal offices are closed on Tuesday. The court hearing is canceled. Ooops. As usual, my flight was non-refundable. I never buy insurance - I always figure that for all the flights I haven't paid insurance for, once I lose one, I will still come out ahead. Insurance companies make money, right?

I waited a bit to see if the court hearing would be rescheduled before my shoulder surgery, so I could still go. Not likely to happen, so I need to call the airlines and beg for a refund on a non-refundable ticket.

In the meantime, while I am looking for my frequent flyer card, Child calls.

Mom?

Yes, Child.

Can you do me a favor?

I don't have any money.

Guess what! I found another ride to the airport tomorrow, you don't need to drive me!

(great, I don't need to drive to the airport two days in a row after all....) Good.

Can I borrow some money?

I don't have any money.

Yes you do. You always do. I only need $100 and I will pay it back in a week.

What am I supposed to live on while you have my money?

Younever spend any money.

That is because you always have it.

Well, can I borrow it? (It's 11 pm, and I hear she is in a store, she wants to come get my cash right now, I am thinking.)

(I count out my cash...) I only have $92.

What? How will you pay your house payment? I know you have more than that.

I don't pay cash for my bills, do I? That is all the cash I have.

Will you go to the bank tomorrow morning and come up to my bar and have lunch and bring me the money?

Once that call was over, I figured I had the cajones to call the airlines and politely beg.

Still, I wrote out a list of WHY the airlines should do this for me. I decided to give all the truth - even though the court hearing being canceled had nothing directly to do with me. I was a nervous wreck.

The first item on my list was to begin with, "Yesterday I made a reservation." Technically, that was true. It was late Thursday night, like 4 am when I made the reservations, but really Friday. It was 11:30 pm when I made the call, but still, it was Saturday. Right? Logical?

I had myself all braced up to make my point. I got a very nice lady named Marie on the phone who took all the wind out of my sails. She very sweetly told me that I could go online and cancel (cancel!) my reservation since it only the next day, and before midnight. I almost cried. She even did it FOR me.

No fees, no charge, no restocking charge, nothing at all. Total, full refund.

Thanks, Monica, for the advice :)

Child will get her cash. I will deliver. Woe to her if I am alone any of the first 14 nights after my surgery.

 

Freaky Wednesday

While it seems to be true that women are programmed to hunt and gather, I have lost interest in shopping unless I am looking for something I need. Child asked me to shop with her two days after Christmas. She knew I had no intentions of even walking in a mall for at least a week, so I assumed she planned on staying away from them. Yes, I do know how the word "assume" breaks down.

Christmas was a non-event here. Child and I were, between us, invited more than five places. Two were neighbors, requiring not even a car key nor sobriety for attendance. One was a relative, my closest family, who invited me the day before. They love me, they really do. We were expecting to spend most of our time, as we did last Christmas, at the home of Child's friend. I am also friends with the friend's mother.

However, child and said friend were having issues. Child wasn't even sure if she was invited. I knew I was, having spoken with the mother recently. I didn't want to deal with the intricacies of fractured friendships. I didn't even want to change out of my jammies. Child and I opened gifts, had a nice time of it, but she continued to fret over her friend.

To avoid confrontation like that is not like me. I wanted to call the mother, ask what the situation was looking like at her end, and make a decision about what to do. I didn't want to go there without child, of course. My plan was to spend the day with her.

I offered her a beer. That worked. She calmed down, I had a beer too, and we started to talk. Several beers later, we realized it was dark out and we hadn't eaten all day. By this time, I wasn't about to go any where to eat, so I heated up some leftovers for child. I really wasn't hungry. We ran low on beer, so I switched to goose and Cranberry to allow child to have the beer.

Friend's mother eventually called me. I said we didn't go because I wasn't able to drive and we lost track of time. All true, but I still didn't like things as they were. I felt child needed to settle her differences before I spoke to the mother and said the wrong thing.

Oh yeah, the shopping. So, we decided to go shopping. We had lunch at Chilis, and child said she hadn't yet found what she needed for her trip where we had already shopped, so she wanted to go to A Mall. I sighed. Multiple times. Drove us to the mall.

Everyone was at the mall. I am used to walking in malls when I can actually walk without touching anyone. Child was in her element. Her eyes were almost glowing. I was getting crabby. She made me laugh by telling me that she told a male friend that she was going shopping at Forever 21 and he told her she needed to go to Almost 30 (she will be 27 in 2 weeks). She asked me if I thought she should dress like she is almost 30, and I said don't ask me, since I don't.

I don't know how men do it. How can they follow a woman around a mall and just watch them touch things they aren't going to buy? I was starting to nod knowingly at men who were sleeping in chairs, leaning on walls, and looking bored as I was. I was getting impatient, crabby, bored, and my feet were starting to ache. I hadn't worn the right shoes for being upright for 7 hours.

Eventually I started to voice my discomfort. Child tried to calm me, assured me she was almost done. I started feeling like a two-year-old who was forced to shop with mommy.

It helped when she said that if I would just be good in one more store, we could get a Dairy Queen on the way out.

She let me go potty, too.

 

puppy papers

Like Remo, I got court papers recently on a case I don't recall at all. They showed up in my mailbox, with a note that I would also receive a certified copy. Yes I did, several days later.

The letter says, in part:

YOU ARE UNDER SUBPOENA UNTIL YOU ARE EXCUSED BY THE COURT OR THE PROSECUTOR. FAILURE TO OBEY THE COMMANDS OF THIS SUBPOENA AND THE REASONABLE DIRECTIONS OF THE PROSECUTING ATTORNEY AS TO TIME AND PLACE TO APPEAR MAY SUBJECT YOU TO PENALTY FOR CONTEMPT OF COURT.

Yes, it is in ALL CAPS just in case I feel like being yelled at or can't handle upper and lower case in the same sentence.

It's not a big deal. I could have gone to my old office, picked up the case, read it, found out who beat the crap out of a child or diddled or neglected, and driven to court and testified in front of the judge for the bench trial. There was just one small problem.

I received the first copy of the letter on December 13, 2006 at 3 pm. The trial was on December 13, 2006 at 1 pm. It took over a week to get forwarded to me.

Going would mean a 50 mile round trip drive, at least 4 hours - all as a gift to the legal system. No over time pay. I don't have earned income, so I can't get one and a half times of it. I have had to go before, and I didn't mind. Much.

I contacted everyone when I moved, and they chose not to use that information. I also called when I got the letter so they could advise me if the trial was postponed or adjourned or whatever, or if an order was made to snatch me off the streets.

So, I am in contempt of court, but maybe they can't find me.

 

Don't eat that!

Putting up the Christmas tree has been a long time tradition in many families. It was in ours. Every year, we got all the old stuff out of the attic. Usually they sent me up there through all the cobwebs because I was the smallest. We had real trees for many years. I don't remember going to get them, but I do remember the needles. I swear, I used to get them imbedded in my knees in June because they weave themselves into carpeting.

Eventually, I got married and we started our own traditions. My ex and I always put the tree up together. He had to do most of the lights, because I can't reach the top of a big tree. My mom had given me some of the bulbs from when she and my dad had first married. I still have some of them, and they are very special to me. I have a few still from the first year of my own marriage.

I have ornaments from when my child was born, and one for each pet. Some were gifts. Some are from people no longer in my life. For a few years, I added one from Tiffany every year, figuring that would be a nice thing to leave to the child. She didn't seem too enthused, so I stopped buying them. I don't think I have added any ornaments in quite a few years. A couple of years ago I gave some of the really old ones to my nieces and nephews, and I downsized my tree.

For a while, I didn't even have time for a tree. I was spending most weekends and holidays at the home of my former boyfriend, and he didn't "do" any holidays. No tree there. I was working most holidays, keeping the pedophiles and other child abusers in line.

Now, I am retired and have my little tree. I put it up usually by myself. This year I needed a little assistance from Stella. You know Stella? Artois? I was feeling a bit of sadness when I unwrapped some of these ornaments of my life history. I found my baby ornament - a cheap red plastic santa with a glued on piece of fuzz for his beard. I have always loved it. Molly wants to love it too, so I have to keep it higher on the tree than I used to.

Knowing I would have a little trouble this year getting the tree up, I bought a CD to listen to TSO. My CD player died. I put the CD in my laptop, and listened to TSO for a while.

After two visits with Stella, I switched to The Killers.

Once I shoved the top of the tree up Father Christmas's ass, I knew it was over and I could sit back and relax and move on to some more pleasant memories.

It's always bittersweet, but I don't want to lose the tradition.

 

 

Suz goes shopping

This entry comes complete with brand name identification. I am that happy with these companies! Ad infinitum, e pluribus unum, ad hoc, whatever, Buyer Beware. (obviously I never had Latin class)

My Christmas shopping was done last week. Where do I go on Sunday? To the mall, as usual, to meet Late to walk. She was - guess!! go ahead, guess! Late! Not too much, though. Maybe 30 minutes.

Since I am obsessed with my shoulder surgery and with getting everything taken care of in advance that I can, I decided to get child's birthday present. Her birthday is three days before my surgery. Martin Luther King Day. She loved getting her birthday off in school.

When we were in Toronto I borrowed her Bebe sweat pants to wear to read in while she slept. They are in bad, bad shape. There is a big ink stain on them and a hole in the lower leg big enough to drive a truck through. She loves them and wants to replace them.

Being the nice mommy that I am, I decided to hit the Bebe Outlet store. I might be nice, but I am also frugal. I found a nice sweat pants and zipper hoodie set for 50% off. They were on a rack with several different sizes and two jacket styles. I decided that they probably won't be more than 50% off after Christmas, anyway.

Imagine my surprise when the sales clerk rings them up, after I had to wait a long, long time for a young female to get her order done. The price was not what I had come up with in my head as 50% off. I asked. She told me they were 30% off. I assured her they were on the 50% off rack and not as a lone piece, but with a grouping, all the same.

She went to the rack, returned to me, and said they are 30% off and someone must have moved them. My eyebrows went up. Late told her she should sell them to me for the advertised price on the rack, since that is where they were, and in a full grouping. Saleslady says, oh no, they were in the wrong place. Someone must have moved them and I have now moved them all back.

I decided, after a bit of giving her my opinion to go ahead and get them, saving myself the hassle of having to return to get the same thing later. Saleslady agrees to mark the receipt so they can be exchanged 3 days after their normal date so child can get them for her birthday.

Crabbily, we moved out of the store, Late and I bitching to each other about unfair marketing practices. I said I was pretty sure the exact same thing had happened to me before in the exact same store. Suddenly, it hit me that the saleslady did not mark the receipt, so we headed back. Keep in mind, this was right after the store had opened - really, no one had time to move an entire grouping of clothing from one rack to another. And anyway, why would they?

Imagine my surprise to return to the desk to hear another lady, holding the exact same outfit, yelling loudly at the same saleslady (I didn't yell - I only voiced my opinion) that the outfit was on the rack for 50% off and that was the price she intended to pay. I opened my bag, showed the contents to the potential buyer, and said that I had just had the same experience. I smiled.

Saleslady did not hassle me about the receipt - she wrote down the date for exchange as I requested. I left before I found out the results of the buyer, but my guess is, she paid 30% off or didn't get it at all.

Obviously, the store personnel moved that grouping back as soon as I left the store, since I did see the saleslady move it while I was there to the 30% off rack.

Bear with me. That is only story number one. Story number two happened today at Best Buy. After having finished all my shopping, I rewarded myself by ordering some Pratesi sheets. I sure hope they arrrive as ordered! Then I had an unexpected expense.

I bought a CD (rare enough for me), Trans Siberian Orchestra, and tried to play it last night. No go. No matter what I did, it said NO DISC. Eventually I remember that is why I hadn't used the CD player in a few years - it did the same thing back then. So, a little while ago I went to Best Buy to get a new one.

I didn't want anything fancy, just a shelf stereo that has acceptable wattage, can do CDs, cassettes, and has a tuner. Speakers on each side, more than one CD. No big deal. The guy showed me what they had, and I asked if theyhad any sale items that are last year's model. Frugal, that is me. Turns out that yes, they did. It was $156 and had everything I wanted. I asked the young man to put it in the cart for me because the box was 13 kilos - I said, Oh, about 28 lbs - he said, I think, 27...the box must be marked with both? Anyway, he put it in the cart for me.

I went to checkout and it had a very long line. I waited. Waited. Patiently; I had no place else I had to go right away. Finally I get a new girl, just opened a line up. She scans the box. Tells me it's $216. I said uh, it was $156, I think? (I realized that my memory has issues.) She said no, it's $216 with tax. I thought, hm, that is a lot of tax. She told me it was $216 pre-tax. I thought for a second, and then told her no, I was pretty sure it was $156, but still allowing for my leaky brain. She went to check. I told her I did not put it in the cart, that the guy did, so it wasn't my error.

She was gone long enough for me to go over to Circuit City and get something else, but I waited patiently. I kept wondering how stupid I was going to feel when I found out I was wrong.

She finally returned and said OH, look, the guy grabbed the one on the shelf next to or under it or something like that, and brought the $156 tag with her. She said that was a different one, and did I want the one he gave me? 

I almost said what I was thinking, but I said I wanted the $156 one, not the $206 one. Bait and switch? I don't know. I really don't. Are they smart enough there to do that?

She was gone long enough for me to find some date, go out a few times, start a family, and send the kids off to college. I was still patient. I know the sales people take a lot of hell this time of year.

Even so, both times, I can't help but wonder. Honest mistakes or unfair marketing practices? It definitely is a good idea to pay attention.

 

This is me, just me

I really need to keep an eye on these dogs, don't I? I take my eyes off them for one minute and they write in my own personal journal. Humpf.

It seems I forgot to write about my Friday night at Child's Bar. I would mention the name of where she works, but she would kill me. Let's say it's a national chain that people seem to absolutely love.

She used to be waitstaff, but to my pleasure she has been tending bar for the last year. Most Friday evenings I meet my Late Friend at the mall where the bar is, and we walk for miles so we can pretend we are staying in shape. Of course we usually go in Nordstrom for dinner. I love their steak salad.

This Friday, Late was going to be, well, Late. So I decided - hey, I will go to the mall early enough to miss the ugly holiday traffic and go to see child. It makes sense, yes? Child was delighted to see both me and my bag of homemade cookies.

Want to get free drinks and food? Bake cookies from scratch.

First, she decided I should try Blue Moon beer. OK, I have a new favorite beer, right after Stella. Maybe before. I need to do a few more field tests and let them duke it out. She put orange in it, like lime in Corona. It was yummy. After that, I decided I wanted cranberry juice and vodka.

Oh, my. She gave me the "good stuff." I have never had Grey Goose before, but it got my vote. Guess what two things are on my shopping list? Cranberry juice is one.

By that time, Late showed up. I was almost able to stand up and say HI. She sighed, sat down at the bar, and had a very strong Diet Coke. I smiled. She gave up on the idea of walking miles and miles.

We ordered dinner because Late was hungry. I hadn't even had lunch. We had lettuce wraps. Child offered me champagne. Who turns that down? She offered me another. The manager came by and asked me to order a Key Lime Pie martini. We shared it. We shared another.

Late continued to sigh. I thought about all the hours I have waited for her, and smiled as I ordered another cranberry juice and vodka.

Right about that time, child's new boyfriend showed up and introduced himself to me. Luckily, I did not need to stand up. I smiled at him, too. And his brother. Late realized this was going to be fun to watch, and she smiled. She even ordered another diet Coke to go along with the oriental noodles and prawns. I do love prawns.

New bf and I sized each other up. OK, he is bigger than I am. So is child. You are too. Trust me.

He has a sense of humor. I took advantage of it, even if I saw at least six of him.

He said he had heard that child was a handful and acted out once or twice. Without hesitation, I said yes, especially all those women.

Oooh, that worked. He was speechless. She wasn't. Late ordered another diet Coke, but I think she really wanted rum in it.

How did I find out he has a sense of humor?

Have I mentioned that Late is a woman of color? When child said, "There is my mom!" guess which of us stuck up an arm?

It wasn't me.

 

I won!

Mom won't write because she is in a bad mood. It has something to do with the silly looking fake tree she is putting up in the condo. She does this once a year. All I know is, we aren't allowed to even look at it. It also has something to do with me biting the vacuum cleaner again.

Oh yeah, thanks for asking about Baby. Her wag is better. Now she is smacking me in the face with that tail again all the time. This is supposed to be an improvement? I guess it's better than listening to her scream when she has to pee. That was embarrassing.

Anyway, it was kind of warm today so mom decided to take us for a walk. Oh boy! As soon as we went outside we saw Linda with Rocket, the other beagle, across the pond! Oh boy even more! Mom had trouble keeping her footing in the snow with mud under it, but we finally dragged her over to Rocket! We hadn't seen Rocket in a while. Her butt still smells the same, except I think she got some turkey recently.

The sun went away, so we all went to Linda's home for a little while. Baby and I were maybe just a little crabby because mom took us out at our dinner time and we know Linda was offering to give us treats and mom said no. Rocket is an only dog and not used to sharing. She even got mad at mom once at our home and bit her because she thought mom was hiding a treat from her, but mom didn't have one in her hand. That made me mad, but she was company that time so I pretended to ignore it. Rocket really likes the desiccated liver mom had.

This time, mom and Linda went in the other room and left all of us beagles in the kitchen with an open container of treats on the counter. Rocket wanted more. We did too, but we know better. I got too close to the counter and Rocket tried to nail me.

Mom and Linda came running when they heard all the growling and nasty sounds. I didn't care for being attacked, so I defended myself. Baby tried to disappear. Linda separated us and mom grabbed me.

Oops. There was blood on the floor. Baby definitely tried to hide behind mom. I tried to suck up to mom and Linda, because I couldn't help it. I am sick, right? I can't be attacked by my best friend.

Whoops. It wasn't my blood. Rocket had a bloody ear! Rocket tried to bite Linda when she checked it out.

I WON!!!

Mom pretended to be sorry. She said not to give us any treats right away because we fought.

I WON!

Baby never made a sound. She was very upset, but somehow she blended in with the walls.

I WON!

Mom took us home. I said I was sorry again. Mom smiled. She gave me extra prednisone because I probably burned up all of my morning dose. My body does not produce adrenaline. Mom has to be my adrenal glands.

Rocket can be a bitch, but we all love her anyway.

I WON!

I WON!!

 

 

 

Need a pearl

How do I get blood out of builder grade flat paint that was sprayed on?

    

Hello, my name is....

Hello, this is Baby speaking. Uhm, typing. Whatever. My mom has been starting to bounce of walls - fun to watch - because she has been inside too long keeping an eye on me and my tail.

I don't speak up often. I am the kind of dog, who, if I were a husky, my view would always be of another dog's backside. I don't lead. I am happy to be told what to do unless I want to smell something, then please, let me smell it. I might even want to roll in it, but let's not go there. Mom says I am passive. Molly says I better do what she tells me to. The cat used to corner me and make me sit. I am good with it. Just feed me and let me sleep if nothing else is going on.

The new neighbors all love Molly. I don't think they even see me because Molly goes up to them and is quite the cute little suck up. I don't mind. Everyone is happy and I just wait, hoping someone will realize maybe I am not invisible. Mom thinks I am like a shadow, just quietly waiting for attention. It must be true, Mom knows everything.

Mom noticed I was unable to wag my tail. She is pretty sharp - ever since Molly came down with that icky illness, Mom watches us like hawks. I was really, really hurting, but didn't want to make an issue of it. However, when I couldn't squat to pee, Mom said, Uh oh - we are going to the vet.

Oh boy oh boy oh boy we got to go see the vet ladies! I love it there :). Usually Molly gets all the attention, but this time they all noticed ME. I wasn't sure how to deal with all of the attention, so I tried to just be a Good Dog. If Mom hadn't dosed me up with that good stuff, I might not have been able to let the vet lady lift my tail, and I might not have been so excited, but well, it all worked out OK. Molly and I both got shots, and the treats were great. Mom always takes treats with us to the vet. What a deal - Molly gets a shot, and I get treats!

People laugh at my name. Baby, they say, what kind of a name is that? Well, Mom has this idea that dogs will tell her what name they want. They just tell her. I am a follower and I didn't get the rules. So, I was temporarily assigned the name of Baby-X. Finally, Mom thought I said my name was Rosie, but it just didn't entirely feel right, so I went back to Baby. I like it, OK? It's Mine. Of course, if you want it, I will give it to you. You can have my toys, too. Please take Molly, while you are at it.

This morning I got up after sleeping - I tell you, I lie down and then it's morning - and screeched a little getting off the bed. What an improvement! Mom dragged us outside in the cold -  it's really cold, but I don't care, I will go wherever Mom wants me to - and I managed to do my business slowly and carefully and didn't make a sound. That made Mom happy. So, I am happy. I am always happy.

Tomorrow, I hope to have my wag back. We dogs, we need that wag. It gives us balance and a way to greet people. It feels strange not to be able to wag. My tail just hangs there.

I hope Mom feeds up before she goes out. Mom is a great hunter. She leaves us for a little while and returns with bags and bags of food! How does she do that?

Molly says I have to get off the computer now. She wants to look up some recipes for dog treats.

I am good with that :)

 

 

The tail tale

Remind me never, ever to take two beagles who are both high on Valium to the vet by myself again. Picture twin children, age two, raised by wolves. Give them some speed. Confine yourself with them in a small examining room for two hours.

For some reason, Valium highly increases the appetite of beagles. They bounce off walls. They jump up, down, up, down...sideways. They are happy, not stressed, but they need their batteries to run down.

Usually Molly gets the Valium only, and Baby just comes along for the ride and is pretty much invisible. Not today. They were both extremely active.

According to the vet, Baby has a broken wag. Her tail isn't broken, it's "hurt," and she can't wag it. She still won't pee. Squatting is exquisitely painful for her. Her anal glands were expressed, and there was no problem "in there." As soon as we got home, she wanted to go outside. It's very cold, windy, and raining. We walked around and around. We went back in, took off my coat, my shoes, her collar, her leash, Molly's collar, Molly's leash. I sat down. Ten seconds later, she wanted to go back out. Molly decided to come along. We put everything back on, walked around and around. She sort of squatted about an inch a few times, then changed her mind.

Finally, she squatted maybe an inch, screamed something awful, and dropped the biggest load of poop I have ever seen a small dog do. It happened so fast that I didn't even see it at first. No pee. )The vet was not concerned over a possible bladder infection.)

We came back in the house, and both dogs are sleeping off the Valium. Baby got a shot of Rimadyl and I have to give her two Rimadyl tablets every day for five days, and then she is supposed to be cured. I have to trust my vet, but I am not so sure about this.

I also gave Molly her Percorten-V shot, the one that keeps her alive. The vet and the tech drew the Rx, held her for me, and I stuck the needle in. I then tried to push the plunger. I found that I had to work very, very hard to do that. Thanks, doctor, you really did a job on my hand when you killed that nerve and I lost the use of a major muscle.

Molly made one little squeak, and when I was done, she turned around and thanked me for giving her the medication that has saved her life. She then thanked the tech and the vet.

Before I gave her the shot, I was holding the syringe. She jumped up for it, like it was a treat. Don't tell me Molly is a dumb animal. Baby maybe isn't too bright, but Molly knows the score.

No seizures. Not one. No indication of one pending. Molly can again go inside the vet's office.

Of course, she still needs the Valium to go.

What do I get? Oh yeah, the bill. Or should I say, The Bill?

 

Pearl of Wisdom

Do not eat dinner while reading The Mephisto Club by Tess Gerritson. If you must, I suggest you go vegan for that meal.

 

 

The wrong accessories

Carter update: we are still working on getting him rehomed, and it looks like we might have a plan that will keep him in his same area. I sure hope so, since dogs with Addison's disease can die from stress, and traveling across the country could be stressful.

OK, enough serious stuff for a bit. I can't stay serious very long.

It was pointed out to me by Mary that I was not properly accessorized to be walking my neighborhood in my fleece jammies. I gave it some thought, and she is absolutely correct.

First of all, I had on the jammie top and a jacket, too. Wrong. All wrong. I was supposed to wear a belly shirt, with much skin exposed. Muffin top gets bonus points.

The pants, of course, should have been hanging around my hip bones. I will let you know if I find them. (The hip bones, not the pants.) Having them hang so low that it's a good thing I shave gets bonus points - or are there more points if I don't shave and should? Extra bonus points for the pants being 6 inches too long and I walk all over them until they are filthy and ripped to shreds.

I had on my waterproof Steve Madden shoes and Christmas socks. (hey, the ground has been like a sponge here lately!) All wrong. I should have been wearing stiletto heels. Bonus points: shuffling my feet like a inmate, wearing plastic shower sandals. In the snow.

The jammies were a solid color. Totally wrong! They should at least be plaid or neon striped. Bonus points: my boyfriend's sleep pants. Twelve sizes too big. Or maybe Hello Kitty?

My hair was combed, I had on makeup, and I wasn't showing any cleaveage, front or back. I wasn't even chewing gum with my mouth open. I wasn't at the store buying cigarettes or alcohol. I don't think I even used a bad word.

I tell ya, this fashion stuff overwhelms me some times. I will get right on it!

Back on a serious note: Baby, my almost 6-year-old beagle, is sick. She hasn't been sick since she had bloody diarrhea at about 3 months old and I learned not to sleep with a puppy with that condition because they leak. This time, I don't know yet what is wrong. She goes in to the vet tomorrow morning. She has been a bit listless, her tail has been down, and now she screams when she tries to squat to pee. I gave her an anti-inflammatory which helped a bit. She was able to pee a little with just a screech. My guess is not a UTI, but maybe impacted anal glands or a rear end injury that happened when I wasn't home? Honestly, the symptoms were almost invisible until after I called the vet and made the appointment for tomorrow. Then she got much worse.

Keep in mind, I can't separate the dogs. Molly has to go with me or she gets seriously stressed. That means Valium for her first, and we will have to go inside the building. Molly had seizures in there before, and has had to be treated outside since, year around. Baby will need to go in, so Molly will have to go in. The last 3 months for Molly's shot, the vet tech has taken Molly inside for quick visits, and she has been OK (after her shot). My hands will be full, with one dog who can't squat and one who is goofy on Valium and will possibly have a seizure. Molly is also due for her shot. The roads will be very icy in the morning.

OK, I am through again being serious. I am going to go practice accessorizing for my next impromptu walk through the neighborhood in my jammies. I will update tomorrow on Baby. Instead of selling my old house, I might as well just sign it over to my vet.

 

Truck on?

Molly's support group for her Addison's disease has a couple in Texas who cannot afford to keep their dog. A kind woman in Maryland has offered to take the dog, but she is not able to pay for the transportation or to do the driving herself.

The dog's name is Carter, and he is a smooth Collie.

Someone in the group has heard of truckers who will help transport dogs who are being rehomed, but she knows nothing more than that.

Are any of you aware of this kindness by truckers or can you point me to someone who might know something?

If the dog cannot be rehomed, the owners will have him put down. He is only 3 years old and has a manageable illness, but they feel they can't afford to keep him.

Any suggestions are welcome!

 

 

 

Don't want my sexy back

I don't want my sexy back. I want my brain back. I miss it, and it's too tiny to be out alone.

All y'all know I live way up here in the north. It's cold. We have three seasons - July, August, and Winter. We all know I hate it, too. Today it was 63 degrees. Warm, sunny, just an all around lovely day. I spent much of it outside with the dogs, walking and visiting with the neighbors. I felt good.

It still gets dark early, so I came in and did some chores. I finally put my jammies on about 10:30 pm, and within ten minutes Baby hit the servant bell, so I had to take them outside. I grabbed my jacket, locked the front door, and we went out.

At least I know my right and left pretty well. Right pocket, empty bags. Left pocket, full bags. Anyway, it was still so nice out that we decided to walk around the block.

About halfway around I realized that you are free to call me Dumb and Dumber.

Dumb, because I walked around the block in my jammies. I didn't even have my cell phone with me for ID or for emergencies. I just walked the same as I would in my jeans during the day. Luckily, no one saw me. Luckily, these jammies are just basic solid color light polartec and look like regular clothes. Sort of.

Dumber, because when I looked at the pond, I almost smacked myself literally in the head, but I was afraid of knocking some more brain cells loose that would then fall out my ear when I sleep on my side.

This one is too good to miss. Mrs L has to think I have the geographical skills of a two year old. Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Mirror image indeed - LMAO! Turning a picture into a mirror image does not change the fact that the sun still rises in the east. It's not like I have never been to the Outer Banks, either. I know where they are.

I am humbled by my own stupidity.

I hope I don't start drooling or peeing in my pants or something.

Myonly defense is - well, I don't have one. I do know that you can see a sunset from the Outer Banks. No mirrors or smoke needed.

Does that allow me to still feel good?

 

 

 

 

 

Suzy's Tendons

I just wanted to add to my Reader's Digest article here and mention that my intercoastal muscle that was inflamed is now much better. I can't say I ever want to spend another week plus a few more days taking that many Flexeril and Motrin tablets. If I wanted to spend my life in a drug-induced haze, those would not be my choices of mediums. Whew. I wonder what I was doing over the last week? Anyone have a clue? Videos?

My Thanksgiving was just fine. I went to my niece's to spend time with the extended family, but her oven had died that morning so we ate 3 hours late. Maybe she inherited some of my "luck?" Nah, she is a Leo. After that visit, I went to see friends by my old home, and had fun there. I got home too late to visit with the neighbor where I was invited, but we will get together another time. I ate very little the whole day. How Unamerican is that?

I tried to convince my internist that maybe my shoulder issues were really fibromyalgia, but he said no, not a chance. The MRI was very clear, showing a tear and bone spurs. Drat. Sorry, but there will be more entries regarding my various old and damaged body parts.

I do not recommend spending a few decades teaching martial arts, spending years in ballet, high impact aerobics, and other general body-damaging sports unless you want to spend the decades afterwards writing entries in your own Reader's Digest volume of body parts.

Meanwhile, I have learned that using a Swivel Sweeper on a low-pile carpet most of the time and only using a 'real' vacuum cleaner now and then is much easier on my shoulders.

Have I even mentioned my new condo's Reader's Digest of under par parts? The carpet  is builder grade. I figured hey, I have two dogs and I had a cat when I moved in. I expected some adjustment time, and some accidents. I decided I couldn't upgrade everything, so I took the basic carpet and assume I will replace it within 5 years with something more pleasant.

Who knew that builder grade carpet meant that every few steps there is a noise from the carpet that is sort of like a squeaky fart? Even the minimal weight of a beagle can make the carpet squeak. There are lumps, bumps, and even tacks sticking up. I can't walk around in bare feet or just socks without blood being drawn on the tacks. The carpet dries fast when I have to steam it after a doggy incident, but that is because there isn't anything to it. In some places it's higher than the ceramic tiles it abuts; in some places, it's lower. I try to ignore it.

Go ahead, try and ignore it when someone comes in to your home, steps on the carpet, and you both hear a sound that could easily be a high-pitched fart.

Blame the dog. Either one.

 

Lucky Day

A close friend of mine lost her husband on Friday night. She called me to give me the day of the service, but not the time. I found it online at the funeral home's website, and almost got there on time. the map service on Yahoo gave me a bad turn. That was yesterday.

Today, I got up and rushed around to get to the doctor's office for the results of my blood tests last week. They were just fine, as usual. I have so much good cholesterol that it makes my total almost look bad. However, I got a B12 shot in my left arm and a flu shot in my right. Two bandaids. How lucky can one girl get?

After that, I had to hurry and rush to meet my former co-worker for lunch. I expected to be late, but was early. She was late instead. No problem. We had a nice lunch, although the waiter was a bit too slow. We survived it.

Child finally called me from Florida and at least gave me the city she is staying in. She didn't know that before she went, since she went with someone else and hadn't asked. I guess. Something like that, but at least she called.

Last night I was a bit distraught about going today to sit shiva with my friend who is now a widow. I kept myself busy baking cookies to take with me. I must have baked 10 dozen of them - it took me about 6 hours, but it kept my mind off my friend somewhat. Her husband was only 59.

I did manage to take the address of the relative's house to go to, the cookies got to my car, and I was all set to go there after lunch today.

It was a long drive, but I finally got there. Sadly, no one answered the door. I left, feeling even worse since I couldn't sit with my friend. After I got home, I found an email telling me not to go before 3:30. I was there at 2:30, not having received the email early enough. Want a cookie?

When I got home, finally, my "roomie" (she owns the other half of my duplex) asked me if I wanted to walk. I said sure, and went inside to get the dogs saddled up. We walked a mile or two (it's cold out!) and Molly had the poopies. Both dogs stopped often to read the neighborhood p-mail. They always do this when my roomie goes with me.

Are you seeing a trend yet? I wasn't having a very smooth day. I sat down on my recliner sofa, and put my feet up, and had a nice dish of peppermint ice cream for dinner. I can do that, I live alone. I set the dish down and let the dogs lick the dregs. Then, of course, they wanted to go out.

I forgot about the dish and put the recliner thing down that holds my feet. What is that thing called, anyway? Foot rest? The dish got smashed between the thing and the metal frame of the sofa - shattering it into many sharp little pieces. I took the dogs out, and came back in and cleaned up the billions of little pieces of glass. I almost never break anything - I have glasses I got when I got married in 1971.

By that time I just wanted to do something quiet and safe, so I poked around a bit online and decided to read my monthly horoscope at Astrology Zone. I am a virgo.

Imagine my surprise when I read that today, November 21, is my best and luckiest day of the entire year. Too bad I had plans only to read tonight. I re-injured the pulled muscle in my back, and was told by the doctor on Friday that I probably had fractured a rib when I threw a vacuum cleaner - or  something I shouldn't have been lifting or throwing - into child's dumpster when I helped her move out of her apartment a few weeks before I moved this summer. It sure did hurt, and it didn't go away very fast. I was having trouble with breathing in again, so that is why I went on Friday to get it checked. The little tiny bit of painting I did earlier in the week did not justify the pain I had the next day, and it wasn't going away.

So, now I am taking three Flexerils and 12 Motrin a day. Yeah, that is a lot of either, but that is what I have to take for a few more days. If I have to leave the house and drive, I am to skip that Flexeril. Like this morning, I skipped it.

Child told me to go buy a lottery ticket. I said no, I would surely buy a huge winner, but then I would lose it. It has been that kind of a day.

 

 

Finding Things

It takes half of a Dairy Milk Cadbury bar and half of a Caramello Cadbury bar to become proficient in Excel - just in case anyone needed to know! I spent a few hours at it - 3 total, but at least half of that time was spent toggled over to AOL to do email and read news. Or weather. Or anything, that wasn't Excel.

My problem is that I have been taught Excel, but don't use it. It's hard to remember the bells and whistles that way. I was originally a math major in college, so statistics and such are not a big deal to me. Remembering where to find some of the more arcane features of a program are more of a deal for me - they did not exist when I was learning more advanced math classes. I didn't even have a calculator when I did statistics. Imagine that!

The missing tape dispenser. Well, that is no longer missing. The night I wrote here mentioning that it was missing, I had a dream. I dreamed something vague about something being lost and being exactly where it was expected to me. I woke up crabby and confused. I knew where it had been, but had no idea where I had moved it. Hm, I did move it, right?

Then the light bulb went on. I went to where I had last seen it - which was on the stereo stand where I set it down while installing the programmable thermostat. Sure enough, it was there. It's brown, the stand is brown - somehow I walked past it a million times and didn't see it. My subconscious saw it on the middle shelf, I guess, and tossed it into my dream. Why couldn't it just yell at me? "Hey, stupid, you just walked past it for the hundredth time tonight! I can see it, why can't you?"

Brains are funny things, aren't they?

 

Question?

How much chocolate is needed to do an entire 8 chapter tutorial, in one sitting, on Excel 2000 - using Excel 2003?

(probably less than the other way around!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Cable Guy

The cable fix-it guy came out today. He said they will either wash off the marks, paint for me, or give me a credit to re-paint. He seemed to be leaning towards the last one. Since I can't paint ceilings that are 11 feet high right now, that isn't going to do me much good, is it? It will probably be a year before I can do that, assuming that my left shoulder can escape the same surgery, which I totally doubt. Lately, it hurts more than the "bad" one.

This guy was very nice and polite. Of course, he gets paid to be nice and polite. He wasn't sure if he is supposed to address the other issues or not. He only got notice to address this one, so far. I had several other complaints.

It's a start, right?

If anyone knows where I put my tape dispenser, give me a holler, OK? I know I had it when I put up the programmable thermostat. Then I put it "away."

I would just get a new one, but my mom gave me that one about 20 years ago, and I am rather attached to it. How could I lose something like that? Where ever it turns up, there will be some logic to it. So far, I haven't been able to follow the thread my brain took that day.

It's gorgeous outside here today - must be close to 65 degrees, no wind, sunny. We are about to embark on a Long Walk. (It's probably 10-15 degrees above normal.)

After that, I plan to plant bulbs. I love seeing daffodils and tulips coming up in the spring.

 

good/bad/good/bad

Try Two. The first is in hyperspace someplace. Please send it home if you find it.

Good - I had contacted the cable company and someone is coming out about the first cable guy who left his mark here - on my walls, my ceilings, etc....

Bad - two days after my call to the cable company I was unable to get online. They had cut off my service for non-payment. This is after I had called them with complaints regarding their installation, billing, and service.

Good - now I have something else to add to the list.

Bad - no one has called from the cable company regarding anything other than Mr Dirty Hands.

Good - I found a nice console at the Neiman Marcus Outlet store. The price was decent, and it's a nice hunk of wood.

Bad - they don't deliver.

Good - I have an SUV. They loaded it up when I went back to get it.

Bad - it's much too big for me to carry. I suspect it did not do good things for my suspension. It was probably hard on the car, too.

Good - the sweet young men next door who are finishing their grandmother's and aunt's basements agreed to take the console out of my car and put it in my foyer.

Bad - the poor guys did it in the rain and then I was a couple of minutes late for my Excel class. I was on my way to class when I saw them outside, and took advantage of them.

Good - they were able to lift it and gently set it down for me.

Bad - the time the guys at Neiman-Marcus smashed it into something, it turns out that they smashed up a corner of the top. (It wasn't the guys next store - I was present and watching like a hawk both times it was moved.)

Good - the missing shelves, for which they gave me $75 off, turned out to be under the wood shelf for the middle section. I didn't really need the glass shelves anyway. I figure with the smashed corner, we are even.

Bad - That corner will drive me nuts forever.

 

I can't use a TV

I tried to turn on a baseball playoff game earlier in the week. I could not get the TV to work. I confess I would have better luck flying a jet than using a TV. I have no TV skills at all, since I really haven't watched one except under protest in 15 years or so.

When I had cable hooked up here, I had trouble with both cable guys who came out. I was digusted with both and their behavior. I still have hand marks on my ceiling from the first guy. I still have insulation on my clothes thanks to him.

My response was to not pay the bill and to send a letter first. I didn't do it. I sat on the idea and put it off until "tomorrow" every day. Finally, today I put on my big girl pants and called the cable company. Once I politely explained that I hadn't called sooner because I was still angry with the company, the lady was very nice to me and listened to my story. I was able to be calm and polite with her. She sympathized. She said a supervisor will call me with some sort of offer. I suspect it does not include sending someone out to wash the handprints off my ceilings. (I can't reach them, nor am I allowed to do that sort of thing with a torn shoulder.)

I also had to ask her to teach me how to use the television. If she had any doubts that I truly not only didn't pay, I didn't use it, she got over the idea. I felt like a three year old, although I suspect almost all 3-year-olds can work a TV better than I can.

I decided to start gently. I put on a channel of just alternative music. I wonder if there is a way to get rid of the picture on the screen? I like listening to "Paralyzed" by Rock Kills Kid. Sounds a lot like U2. I just don't want to see the slide show.

Maybe I just need a new TV? It seems a shame to replace one that has rarely been used.

 

 

 

Spellbound

I think I have figured out my house problem. I realize our state is in a depression and our housing market is slow, but still, my house is a nice one and in an excellent school district. I have the location. The setting is ideal.

However, my ex did not want to get divorced. He really didn't want to leave the house, either. I had to get a court order after we were divorced (about a year after I had filed - that was one long year) to get him out of it.

I think he must have put a spell on the house. It makes perfect sense to me.

Who knows a good spell breaker?

 

 

 

Another Pearl of Wisdom

Do not pour two cups of old dry yeast into a garbage disposal and try to wash it down with cold water.

 

 

Out of Choices

For a few months I have been in physical therapy three times a week for the shoulder that started hurting a LOT when I was painting my old house. You might recall that X-rays and the MRI revealed that I have a torn rotator cuff, bone spurs, and bursitis. They didn't test the other shoulder because I was still using it. I had a cortisone shot in June.

I admit that I continued to paint while I was in pain. I took pain pills until I got nauseated so I could do some of the ceilings. The painting is still unfinished, since eventually I did have enough sense to stop. I will have to go finish up one of these days unless I get lucky and my house sells.

In the meantime, I have continued to get the weekly massages by the Vampire, also. I moved myself other than things I was totally unable to lift, and those were moved by professional movers. I did the rest. So sure me. I believe I have actually had the tear since I taught judo.

Today I was re-evaluated by the GQ crew (the doctor and his PA). The pain isn't gone, and I told the PA that I would be calling him some very bad names tonight after we did the range of motions. He just smiled. It didn't hurt him at all. The doctor re-did the same things, and I will be calling him Dr Bad Names all night. I have lost a lot of strength. I have slightly improved movement, but it still hurts.

December 19 I am tentatively scheduled for rotator cuff repair and to get the bone spurs removed. The spurs are just causing me more damage that cannot heal. I have mixed feelings. I go through days when I think I can live with this forever, and I have days when I want to get a fork and fix it myself.

For about 2 weeks, I will be able to do almost nothing. I live alone with two dogs that have to be collared and leashed and taken outside every time they pee. Cooking is not an issue - I don't eat much and can deal with that part. Cleaning won't be a big problem, since two weeks without cleaning house won't kill anything. I should be able to read  books and use the computer, if I can get it on my lap. I can wear sweat clothes for a while, that isn't any big deal either. Pain is something I can handle. Even the six months healing time with more physical therapy is OK. I worry about being able to take care of my dogs - and washing my hair.

So, my choices are to let the bone spurs continue to cause damage to my shoulder, continue to let my arm get weaker, and have the tear never improve - or I can have the surgery and just deal with it. The doctor gave me a speech about the size of the cuts. I told him I didn't care about that, but he should feel free to cut out the scar from my skin cancer on my shoulder and replace it with a new one.

I hope the Child doesn't tell me I have to postpone. I think she works extra hours around Christmas. In January, I believe she will also be in classes. Luckily, I have some great new neighbors who love my dogs and will probably be glad to give me a hand.

Or maybe a shoulder.

 

 

 

Thanks, AOL

AOL must be feeling inadequate after causing me to lose my entry three times. I got my credit card statement today and it shows a bill from AOL. I am on the free plan.

I went to keyword Billing and looked up my status. It says it didn't bill me. So, they not only steal entries, they lie? I tried to contact by email, and was told I would have to upgrade and pay $9.95 monthly to be able to tell them they charged me for a free service.

Anyone else have this happen?

All I can do is contact my credit card company and dispute the charge. I am sure I will then hear from AOL, hopefully at no charge to me.

I needed another chore to do.

 

Is 4 the charm?

I don't know if 4 would be the charm or not. I have written, with pictures, about the rest of the trip to Toronto 3 times. AOL has lost the entry 3 times. The third time was in the process of being saved when my phone rang. I answered, just before the modem-phone issue cut off my computer, before it finished saving.

If I re-write now, I will leave out half of it because I am annoyed. I will have to do it later. Don't get excited about the pictures - there are only three. The guy doing the pocket hockey moved before we could get a video of him.

 

I do not forget things

As usual, I went 40 hours without sleep before finally zonking myself out in Toronto. I really, really need to stop that behavior. I am still tired.

I have mentioned that I almost never get sick. I had bronchitis in 1997 or 1998. I was taught self-hypnosis and told that mostly we choose to get sick. I was taught to then believe that I don't get sick, and somehow, it works.

So, I have decided to try to use the same concept on my memory. Wish me luck - who knows? I might remember what I did on my trip. I wasn't "allowed" to take my computer (per child) because we were only going overnight. I decided there was merit to not having it since we would be "homeless" the second day once we checked out anyway. I do remember that we had a great time.

Talk about pre-conceived ideas. Child had never been on a train before, but certainly has watched a lot of movies. She was expecting a sleeper train, perhaps a private car, for a 4-hour train ride to Toronto. We didn't even leave from Michigan. We drove into Canada for the train.

Oh, what a lovely drive. We left about 4 am, and it poured rain and was foggy the entire time. In fact, it remained rainy the entire first day in Toronto and well into the evening. I hate driving into Detroit, but felt better to have a navigator. My mavigator fell asleep exactly at 8 Mile Road, which is the border to Detroit.

I woke her up, and she admitted she had no idea how to get downtown either.

Once we got to Toronto, she woke up and we left the train station. Due to the rain, we took a cab to the hotel. That was probably a first for me. Child loved the hotel, loved the room. We unpacked (didn't take long) and hit the streets. Child had ignored my suggestion of wearing a rainproof jacket with a hood, so we went to the mall first. We walked about 5 miles through the mall, and left for a walk. In the rain. We ended up at one of my favorite little dives, Jeremiah Bullfrog. I figured Child would either love it or hate it. She loved it. We had a few beers, talked, tried to wait out the rain.

We went back out (in the rain) and went to my personal ground zero. I finally had my absinthe drinks again. The bartender taught the Child, who is a bartender, to make the drinks for me at home. Child was interested in the taste and smell of the drink, saying she never had anything like it. I was happy. She had a lot of beer, so she was happy. We were also really, really tired. Child got hungry.

I swear she has to eat every day. We walked down towards Lake Ontario, by the CN Tower, and stopped in the Irish Pub I had been in before. She ordered her dinner, I got some soup, and we talked again. I told her that I had gone in the Irish pub 2 1/2 years ago, feeling a sense of familiarity. It turned out that my ex-husband and I had gone in the same pub before the Child was a reality. Not long before - I had taken the train to Toronto once with my ex when I was pregnant with the Child. Child was lost in thought about how I had been to the same place with her and her father, a quarter of a century apart.

Child was again trying to quit smoking, using me as her, um, person who will tolerate her like that? She used the patch. She didn't get too bad. She seemed motivated.

After dinner we decided exhaustion was winning and we went to the hotel. I got out a book, child went to sleep. Immediately. Geez, she already slept 4 hours on the train. I was still up. I took half a sleeping pill. I read for a while. I took the other half, and read some more. I finally tried to lie down. No dice. I got up and took a third half (I know, I know). Finally, after being up 40 hours, I was able to sort of sleep. It was 2 am. I was awake by 6 am, but dozed off and on for a couple of hours. I shook the Child awake about 9 am and we went to breakfast.

I had grabbed a donut on the way home from the Irish place because Child sometimes sleeps like 15 hours and I needed something to eat in the morning. Child didn't, so we went for a walk to find her a place to eat. She finally found a coffee house/Vietnamese restaurant (maybe something else?) and since I don't like the smell of coffee, we ate outside on the patio. Child sulked. I smiled. She got her food, and I tossed little pieces of her toast to the little birdies.

Child does not like birds. One landed on the back of the chair next to her. I am glad herheart is good and strong. (The bird is alive still, don't worry.) A pigeon joined the group. Child looked at the pigeon, put some egg on her fork, and waved it at the pigeon, yelling, "Go away! I am eating your child!"

Did you know that birds will eat cooked eggs? That is a gross thought, isn't it?

Part 2 coming later on....

Coyote Beautiful

This will be a thought salad kind of entry. I am in full PreTravel Freak Mode. Child and I are going to Toronto for a very short trip. Still, packing is packing. I take pretty much the same stuff for a short trip as I do for two weeks and I am doing the usual dance.

Two of my neighbors offered to take my dogs. Three others would have, but weren't able to. What a difference for me! I used to almost beg people to watch my dogs, and this time I have to call one and say sorry, maybe next time. Incredible! I love this place :)

The dogs and I took a walk maybe a week ago and went around the pond. Halfway around there is a path that leads deeper into the woods. I have seen deer in the woods before, and watched them run off. Remember I saw the deer running through my backyard once and my brain registered "horses" first?

This time, my brain said, "Deer! I got it right!" - but when I looked, I saw something else. There were two of them, running away from us, with long tails, running like dogs with fluffy tails - coyotes. I had heard there were some near here, but it's the first time I have seen them. They are beautiful!

This is the first time I will be leaving my dogs with anyone besides the child since Molly was diagnosed with Addison's. Molly crashed after my last trip to Toronto - I had no idea she was sick before the crash. I am of course nervous, but I know my neighbor will provide most excellent care of my furbabies.

Child has never been to Toronto. I told her to be prepared to walk a lot. She will whine, but that is too bad. It won't be any colder there than it is here, but it will be raining. It was raining last year when I went, too. Hey, it rains sometimes. We can deal with it.

I guess I need to pack. I had promised myself that I would go to bed at 9 pm with everything done and actually sleep once before a trip. I lied. My intentions were good, but the ADD won again.

Wish me luck. Not only am I traveling with a Nondenominational American Princess, but she is trying to quit smoking again. Luckily for me, the beer in Canada is stronger than it is in the US. I can alsoget absinthe. I already packed my wine key. Priorities. Plus, child is a bartender. Once she learns how they make the absinthe in the bar I went to last year, she can make it for me at home. Of course, I can't bring any home with me. It's illegal to carry it over the border :(

Hm, I thought I had a whole bunch of little things to toss into my thought salad, but if I did, they fell out of the bowl.

I do have to drive through the tunnel into Windsor, Ontario, to get to the train station. I do not like this drive at all. We will leave in the middle of the night, dark, rain, for a trip through Detroit. Wish me luck - this is the worst part of a trip for me.

On Sunday I finally got everything together at the right time and put up my programmable thermostat. I love it. I am very proud that I was able to do that. My shoulder isn't as happy as I am, but it will have to get over it.

I am off to pack. Yuo know, about half a bubble off.

 

 

 

One Year

One year ago Molly, the best beagle in the world, was diagnosed with Addison's disease. You are all probably sick of hearing about her illness and my whining about it. I worked hard to understand the nuances of getting her properly dosed and tested and all of that.

A few days ago, I was outside with the dogs. Some neighbors went by with a little fluffball, and they had to ask me which dog was the "sick" one because they forgot. It certainly isn't evident. Molly is the dominant dog and sucks up to every human she can get to. Someone might feed her. She will get right up to them and whisper that I never feed her and she begs for just some lint from the lining of their pockets. Still, her collar wears a tag that says she needs medication. In 3 days without it, she would probably die.

I am retired, as we all know, and on a tight budget, more or less. Molly's medication is quite expensive. I figure it's vaguely $200 a month, counting tests and all. I also figured I was going to have to make a budget adjustment. First thing to go was the manicures. I figured I could live without that. I can do my own acrylics if I want them, anyway.

Next to go was me.

I decided that I needed nothing new. I have everything I need. So, I made a plan. Nothing new for at least a year. I knew I would be moving anyway, and wanted to cut down on the "stuff." I also knew I had 3 closets of clothes, full drawers, and everything else a girl needs.

I confess to one purchase. When I was in Vancouver, I did buy two sweatshirts. I wanted one red pullover hoodie, but got also hooked on a pink zip hoodie. I figured I could deal with two. I had wanted a red pullover hoodie since my first trip to Toronto 2 1/2 years ago. Other than those two things, I didn't even get myself a pair of socks. No new jeans. Nothing at all, for an entire year.

My friends were astounded. I lost all interest in shopping. This was not a 'bargain' - I didn't make a deal with myself that if I gave up any new worldly things that Molly would be OK. I just had to re-budget and the only other thing I could have cut out would be travel. Let's be reasonable. I only paid for air fare on most trips anyway.

Now that a year is up, I am free to do what I want. You know what? I don't want anything. I still have all a girl needs. I also have Molly. And Baby.

I find that I want to continue to cut down on my possessions, but not on my beagles. Molly can have all the medication she needs. Me? I am happy.

 

 

 

Jump wisely, little grasshopper

Today was one of those days where everything was either odd, funny, or slightly off. Sort of like going to an outlet mall kind of day.

Child came over and we went out to lunch. Just how hard can that be? We didn't even argue over where to go. We went to a Max & Erma's, which is a mile from me. I think they are a local chain. I ordered a "hula salad," and child had one of everything else on the menu. I know for sure she had a chicken salad croissant, french onion soup, and french fries. Yeah, and she weighs 112 lbs. Go figure.

I pick at my food. I am the slowest eater you will ever sit down with. It drives some people nuts, but most of my friends are used to it. I have been edgy with salads ever since my ex-husband and I were being wined and dined by some pharmacuetical company at an upscale restaurant and a live spider walked brazenly out of my salad and headed west down the table.

So, as usual, I picked and poked and didn't even think about it. It's second nature to me. I have, in the past, found dead bugs, pieces of plastic, odd assortments of other people's meals, metal chunks, and all kinds of extras in salads.

Suddenly, a piece of lettuce flew out of my salad and towards my soda glass. I thought it was odd, but started looking for it. Do I need to mention that child is afraid of insects? I moved my glass, and there was a grasshopper, not a piece of lettuce, at least an inch and a half long, just waiting for the next course to be served.

I wasn't sure what to do. I almost just flicked it off the table, and decided that was a bad move in a restaurant. We weren't sitting close to a door, so I decided not to grab it and take it outside. I just sat quietly for a second or two, then mentioned it to child.

She was about to lose it when I grabbed the little bowl that held the remnants of my salad dressing and turned it upside down over the grasshopper. I continued to pick at my salad, trying to decide if maybe I should still finish it. I was really hungry. Much to child's credit, she remained rather calm.

The waitress came by eventually, and asked if everythingwas OK. We said yes, but that there was a grasshopper under the salad dressing container. The waitress acted up more than child did. She disappeared very fast.

The manager came over, and asked us what happened. She also seemed more upset than we were, which made me laugh even more. I was still contemplating the salad when they whisked it away, much to my chagrin. They offered me anything for free, and assured us we had no bill to pay at all.

I asked for a cookie. We left a $15 tip. I assured the waitress that one grasshopper would not keep us from returning.

I love to be entertained. I hope the next grasshopper does the hula for me.

 

 

Do Toads Count?

Subtitle: I think I missed an important opportunity!

On Monday morning I woke up as groggy as usual. I stumbled out of bed, threw on my highly attractive flannel sleep pants, dragged a sweatshirt over my head, stuck my feet into some socks that maybe matched, jammed my toes into my rubber shoes so I didn't get my feet soaked, and partially opened one eye.

The dogs danced their pee pee dance while I attempted, futilely, to get their collars and leashes attached to the correct ends. I stumbled off the front porch, tripped across the driveway, and let Molly drag me dazedly through the wet grass along the east side of my condo. We passed the daylight window to the basement and I peeked down, since several neighbors have told me they found small, dessicated wild animals mixed in with the stones.

WIthout giving it a second thought (since it was too early for a first thought), I then lifted up the heavy wrought iron grilling for the window well while still holding onto 6' leather leads for two dogs. The dogs looked at me askance and askew while I sleepily climbed down the three metal rungs to the bottom of the well, where carefully I picked up a very much alive mid-sized brown toad. I put him (aren't they all male?) gently into an unused poopy bag, then carried him up the rungs and set him on the dry grass under the bay window. I carefully put the grill back in place, cleaned up the obligatory two piles of dog dirt, closed my eyes again,  went back in the house, and fed the dogs like a well behaved automaton.

Once my eyes were half open again, I went online and emailed a friend and told her the story.

She told me I should have kissed the toad first, that maybe I had found my prince.

Since I set him free, he will come back if he is really mine, right?

 

 

 

I have your support right here....

For months, I have quietly endured a very, very slow computer. You can guess why, right? I don't want to deal with tech support. I would rather put my eye out with a fork. I did, however, call AOL in a weak moment. My new buddy Andy there in support was obsequious, but assured me the problem is with Microsoft, not AOL. He said the MS firewall and the AOL firewall don't like each other. No shit.

He gave me two numbers to call at MS and a case number from AOL. That was at least a month ago. Today I finally tried to call. The first number doesn't exist any more, but they gave me support.microsoft.com, which I went to. No help there, since I bought my computer with MS already loaded in. I tried the second number, and it was for sales. Thanks, AOL. That guy gave me a third phone number of 800-936-5700, where I made friends with Paul. He gave me the option of paying them $35 at yet another phone number to fix my problem, or call Gateway, or go to support.gateway.com.

I accepted the idea of calling Gateway. I was already in a bad mood by then. I figured one more phone call couldn't hurt anything. Ms Phone System there almost got me to use four letter words (OK, I admit I said a bad word AFTER I hung up. That doens't count, right?). She wanted to know if I have a letter, and not just numbers, in my serial number. Hello, want to tell me where my serial number is? I finally turned the laptop ass up, and found a serial number that starts with N, so I pressed 1. Oh sorry, your computer was purchased in a retail store. You need to call 408-273-0808.

I didn't do it. I am taking my computer to class with me. My assistant worked for IBM for 30 years and is very tech savvy. We joke that he is high tech, I am user friendly. That is why they like me to teach - I can get on the same level as the students. I think that is because I belong there. Barney will fix my non-compatible firewalls. Probably I need to close the MS one, but I don't want to make that decision on my own.

I do not hate tech support any less after these calls. I just wasted more than 30 minutes and have nothing good to show for it. My computer is still slow, I am crabby, and the beagle puppy's mom is still at work.

Maybe I can go shred someone's socks.

Actually, tonight I get to teach my all-male class to surf the web. Somehow I will teach them how to find porn. I realize they will eventually figure it out, say in 93 seconds, but I will teach them enough about search engines so they can skip the first 87 seconds of confusion. I won't actually say "porn." I figure it is all part of the lesson, though. Why else would they have signed up for the class?

 

 

Puppy Magic

This was a real dog day for me. I am not complaining. It was all good.

I had physical therapy today, then came home to drag the hog dogs around for a few miles. The weather was good, at least when it was not storming, so I put off a billion chores and errands again to walk. It will soon be way too cold for me to step a foot out that door for several months. I will go from house to garage to car and will do that as little as possible.

We walked about two miles. On the way back, I saw my disabled neighbor driving by. She waved and I hurried my dogs. I knew she would take her Cairn Terrier out, and the dogs love to visit. We got there just in time.

The Cairn, Gaily, doesn't get to walk as much as my girls do because her mom just can't. Sometimes she gets around the block, sometimes she doesn't even try. I have offered several times to take Gaily along with my girls, but her mom was afraid I couldn't handle 3 dogs. Gaily is very social and just worships my beagles. She is like a little girl who admires her older teenage sisters. I offered today to take Gaily along for a while, and finally her mom agreed.

I found myself with three very happy dogs. Luckily, mine had already walked a few miles and were content to behave. Gaily was so excited that she made me laugh. We walked near my condo and ran into the other beagle lady, who walks her dog with an e-collar. That means no leash.

Baby, my younger beagle, howls when she sees someone she knows. She really, really likes the beagle lady. So does Molly. So does Gaily. I had 80 lbs of happy dogs straining at 3 leashes to get to the beagle lady. We made it, and I didn't get braided in the process. Beagle lady took one of my beagles, and that made it easier for me.

We went to the pond and let Gaily have a dump on the grass. Her mom makes her use the mulch right outside her door - Gaily is not allowed to potty on grass. Gaily loves me even more now. Baby dumped at exactly the same time. I bagged it all and stuck it in my sweatshirt pocket (yuck). Gaily was summarily returned home after a decent walk. She was smiling and telling her mom all about her Big Walkwith the Big Girls. Everyone went home happy.

Later, the beagle lady came to my door with her beagle. Her dog thinks I am the Dessicated Liver Lady. I had to toss chunks to all three dogs - they love that crap. That dog will come to my door and just glow with the thought of that liver. When the door opens, she makes a beeline to my pantry door and scratches at it. Silly girl.

Later on in the evening, I was catching up on some emails when Baby started to pace and whine. I figured Gaily was outside again, so I went on the front porch to see. Baby had it half right. There was a lady coming down the street being walked by a 12-week-old beagle puppy.

I love dogs, no question about it. But there is something special and magical about puppies. I can be in the crappiest mood and if I can stick my face into a puppy's neck, I am instantly cured. It's maybe a wee bit rude to grab a puppy off the street and hug it if you haven't met the owner yet, but I didn't care. The owner understood. I think she told me her name. I know the puppy is Bella. She is so sweet, and has a lot more black on her face than I usually see on a beagle. No brown. I hope she walks by often.

To think I almost didn't move to a condo. There are now 8 beagles living in two blocks. It's not unusual to go for a walk and find ourselves on someone's driveway with half a dozen dogs, leashes getting tangled, butts getting sniffed, and owners chatting about whatever.

At my old house? The one I still haven't sold? I lived on a cul-de-sac that had 4 houses on it. I had the only dogs for years - two beagles. When I moved, there were two beagles on the east side of me. When I stopped by earlier this week, the neighbor on the west side brought out her new 9-month old puppy - a beagle. To the west of them, I was told, the neighbors who were moving in just as I left - they have a beagle puppy. Just a tiny, baby one, but I didn't see it.

Yet.

Watch out. Beagles are taking over.

I finally got what I needed

I have been needing something since I moved in this new condo. I have waited patiently, hopefully, holding out for just the right guy with just the right gentle touch. He had to totally understand how my system works, play it like a pro, then teach me how to do it myself. After all, I can't expect him to be here every time I need it.

Finally, on Saturday, the man of my dreams showed up at my door. I quietly let him in, and he did his thing that he does so well. I was happily impressed and immensely pleased, and paid careful attention as he taught me what I needed to do when he could not be here for me.

With great skill, a smile, and a flourish, he turned off my sprinkler system. I love this man.

However, I might not let him back in when he comes knocking in the spring to turn the system back on.

 

 

 

Minor Corrections

Whoops. The first drink last night was not a tootie roll martini. It was an Almond Joy martini. It has chocolate and coconut - two of my most favorite flavors. He dribbled chocolate sauce around the inside of the glass - it makes a very pretty presentation with the cherry.

My daughter did sort of hear me swear once before, but she doesn't remember. When my father died, my mom gave me his car. I think she didn't like me driving around in a tiny little Honda Civic wagon that had a manual transmission. I loved that car. Anyway, my dad's car was a Lincoln Mark Whatever. My dad died in 1988. I had never owned a car before with a security system.

Can you guess? I took my daughter with me to the bank. I locked her in the car because it was winter. She was 8. I was just a few feet away at the ATM machine. I went to re-renter the car, and the VERY LOUD alarm went off. There I stood, in freezing cold, looking like I was trying to break into a new Lincoln with a young girl in it.

I said "shit." I didn't say it very loud, and since child swears she doesn't remember, I am not sure it counts. I had no idea how to get in the car, and she was laughing too hard to listen when I told her to unlock the doors from the inside. That time, I was traumatized for life!

I kept the Honda and sold the Lincoln after about a year.

Cassie asked me what I am reading now. I read so much that I generally say that I read authors, not books. If I find a new author I get excited and read everything they ever wrote. Currently I am reading books by (and these are not all new authors to me, although one is): P D James, Keith Ablow, and Douglas Preston/Lincoln Child. Next week, maybe I will have moved on to a few others. I don't watch TV at all, so I read instead. Yeah, I am paying for cable TV, and still haven't turned it on since I moved in two months ago.

Remo, it's odd you said it's a good thing I only have a birthday once a year. The local police said the same thing last night!

Don't I get credit for teaching my child some good employment skills?

 

Yet Another Birthday

Didn't I just have one of these a year ago? I cannot remember what I did last year. I am sure my daughter was involved, and the journals decided, after I spent half an hour trying to get to the right date, that they weren't going to give it up. I do remember that two years ago I almost got in a bar fight on my birthday. That one was quite memorable.

This year, my daughter was working. I figured no problem, since Gary has called me for my birthday every year for 20 years and we have gone out. Ooops. No Gary this year.

I decided I would ask my new neighbor, the other beagle lady, if she wanted to go with me to my daughter's restaurant and have dinner. Since it's in a mall, we could do some shopping, too. She said sure, it sounded like fun.

We went early enough to get a seat at the bar. Immediately, my child had the other bartender make me a tootsie roll martini. Those are immensely yummy. They came with a cherry - as usual, my daughter took the stem and stuck it in her mouth and did what I taught her when she was younger to keep her quiet for a few minutes - tied it into a knot with her tongue. (she's my daughter, Remo, don't go there!)

After that, my friend and I proceeded to try a few other drinks. I remember a melon martini of some kind, and it was incredibly good. There was also a blue velvet martini - my friend really liked those. I had a hot sake, then drank my friend's raspberry sake. She hadn't had sake before and didn't really like drinking dishwater (that is pretty much what it tastes like).

In the meantime, being the way I am, I was chatting with the couple on my left. They were not married, but have been dating about a year. They found it entertaining that it was my birthday and the bartender was my daughter. He had a smart mouth and my daughter kept right up with him, and we were all laughing. His girlfriend decided I need to meet their single friend Bob, and she gave me her card so we could arrange it.

After they left, a nice gay couple were behind my friend and I. They were adorable, of course. The one guy, I think his name was Jim, was whining about having to wait 2 1/2 hours for dinner. I told him that I don't wait. He decided at that point that I was his best friend. I called over the manager, said the guy was a buddy of mine, and they were seated in 5 minutes. I hope they tipped accordingly.

We had a good dinner. We had lettuce wraps, Mongolian beef, veggie fried rice, and sea bass. I think we had dessert. I know I had a birthday candle, but was not allowed to let it burn down and set the fortune cookie on fire. I was forced to blow it out. I made a wish, of course.

I made one mistake. Once I realized that we had 5 minutes to shop, I said a not very kind four-letter word. My daughter, who has never heard me swear, put her hands up to her mouth and opened her eyes very wide. She said she was damaged for life.

So, we decided to leave.

It was a very good birthday :)