Stupid Earworm

It's been stuck in my head for days, thank you very much never ending Christmas music.  Then, I actually paid attention to the words and realized they were True To Life.  Maybe Grandma really did get run over by a reindeer. 

"Gussy got run over by a reindeer
Going out to pee one summer morn
He had no idea what had attacked him
Momma deer with baby freshly born"

That's as far as I got, but we feel for Grandma now.

Salty Surprises

We really don't do presents at Christmas.  After all, it's not OUR birthday, you heathens.

Of course, we do the token gifts to friends and cheap relatives, but it's usually, wine and candy or cookies; normally and thankfully, useful gifts.

This year, we got two salt licks.  The first salt lick was as a result of a white elephant gift exchange.  I was confused at the gift, and was assured that it was an expensive salt block to be used for culinary delights.  Okay, two violations of white elephant:  expensive and supposedly useful.

I was happy to note that said salt lick was made in Woodinville by the same company that made the stupidly expensive Himalayan salt licks for horses.   Even in violation of white elephant, it will be used.

Then, we receive another exact replica in the mail. We were amazed, what are the odds?  I read the "curing" instructions and realized that if I really wanted to spend seven hours of my life prepping this huge granite brick to use as a serving tray, that would be some serious time best spent shaving horse beards, dog butts or hanging tenders.

For the Restivus

Are you ready?  I'm ready.  Feats of strengths, airing of Grievances.  Happy Festivus!

Christmas Carolling

Every year, we sing a special song in honor of our late dog, Jack.  We spent every Christmas and a week in February in Mazama and there was usually quite a bit of snow, enough to be plowed with a driveway tunnel to the house.  Jack figured out quickly that walking through the snow was hard as a 140 lb beast.  He would check pee mail and poop in the driveway when the need arose. 
Therefore, we composed our own winter melody to be sung to "Walking in a Winter Wonderland":

"In the lane, Jack is pissin', in the lane, brown is glistening,
Oh what a sight, all brown and white,
Walkin' in a Wooly fecal lane.,,"

We're all about holiday traditions.

Hairing Up

So I made my monthly trek to the dermatologist so he could look at the scar on my head and remark that, gee, only one out of his 300 surgeries this year has ever had nerve damage.  Yeah, whatever.  After all that fun with him, we thought it a good idea to look at other moles, i.e., a fully body search for more cutting spots. Let's take off all our clothes and be happy to be wearing a clean thong.

He started by looking at my scalp, kinda.  He said, "Wow, you have a lot of hair, you should have your hairdresser keep an eye for dark spots on your scalp."  I said, "Wait until you see my legs."  I thought to myself, "My hairdresser has gone to medical school?  I should ask."  I pointed out several weird spots that I had kept an eye on for changes, including one on my toe.  When he saw my toe, he asked if I wanted it froze off, much too eagerly.  I asked if it was cancerous and he said, no, but if it bothered me...Okay, why would I want a mole on my toe burned off to cause some pain I didn't need?  He really is aptly named Dr. Bun Ass.

As he looked at my legs, I said, "Well, I just got through No-Shave November and we're into Don't Shave December, so what do you think?"  He said nothing, but the nurse snickered.  Then we took pictures of my back and stomach because it was all very suspicious. Those might end up on Facebook, just for future reference.  Bottom line, no cancerous areas, except for my scalp which is undetermined until I get my hair cut.

My next doctor appointment will involve Dingleberry December, I think.

A Good End to a Bad Year

My only real vacation of the year, finally.  Going to Mazama and a family reunion does not count at all. I had so much fun and am still aglow.  Riding, golfing, pedicure, amazing food, boinking, shopping, reading;  we did it all.  I love the desert, not Palm Desert, but the real desert of Arizona. 

Dancing Saguaro, abt 200 yrs old

I'm just happy to report that I feel almost 100%.  My upper lip and gums are still numb, as my forehead is, but I'm getting used to it.  I really felt the cold today, could be alcohol withdrawal.  I sipped some serious Tequila.

I'm putting up all my decorations tomorrow.  The wreath on the door and a Festivus pole.  Done.  The barn has always had cactus lights and the outdoor patio has white lights, so it's pretty damn easy to be holidayish.

Been emailing with our neighbor next door who lost her husband in a plane crash over the weekend.  Tragic, only 52 and an amazing family.  We'll be keeping an eye on the house while they travel to Michigan for the funeral and burial.  What a shock, I just saw him the day before we left.

I have been working out with my personal trainer again and we have a very motivating goal.  I don't want to jinx it, because I haven't been formally accepted, but it involves intense riding and another trip to Arizona!





My hero, an amazing wrangler with a Grammy!

Barbie's Dream Trailer

Isn't this the greatest idea?  A two horse mini trailer that fits in the bed of a truck.   It comes with a ramp and a little cab window so you can feed little baby carrots and receive little horse kisses in return.  

Bliss.

Blackballed Friday

Since we had to Black Friday a new refrigerator, off to Sears we went.  The vultures were hovering so we invited one to sell and feast.  Of course, the one on sale wouldn't possibly fit, so we found the only one that did.  Fortunately, it was the type we wanted at an okay price.

Yippee, pay with a Sears credit card, save some money, get some reward points, buy more stuff, are you happy, so happy in retail land???  That's fine, I can use the first credit card I received when I was 18.  Cue the lights and angels:  Sears Credit Card.  Yep, 30 years ago, I was well taught about credit and finance.  Get a credit card, use it, ALWAYS pay the balance, build good credit, buy more stuff.  I was able to buy my first new car, a Toyota Tercel  ( I thought of it as a Mercel at the time) at 19, working part time and in college.  Couple years later, buy the first house.  Yep, building credit is good.  Insert pat on back here.

Fast forward to today.  We have one credit card.  Only one.  The one that allows us to travel first class internationally at least once a year because of the miles.  The card that we have never, ever, carried a balance.  I used my Sears credit card five years ago to buy a dishwasher, no big deal.  Now, I have to open a new account because its been over two years.  I spent AN HOUR on the phone and with the vulture verifying stupid information to buy a fridge.  They asked me three times how much money I made per year.  I replied, "I'm retired."  2nd time:  "I'm retired, but my husband works and we make $XX".  3rd time:  "I'm a total loser and allow my husband to support me.  He brings in $XX.  Can't you run a credit check?"

They opened a new account for Denny.

Roasted Hedgehog

Two days of cooking, over in 20 minutes. At least there are enough leftovers for a week, not to mention a fully fried chicken.  The Colonel didn't want the deep frying oil to be wasted on just one turkey, so he fried three chickens and we gave them away as bonus parting prizes.  All the precautions  for deep frying were utilized so it seems ironic that the only mishap was when Gus threw his hedgehog into the fire and it had to be doused with water.  Oy vey.  Now there is charred dog toy marks all over the rug.

Because I made a carrot and parsnip side, the Wiener Horses got lots of peelings.  They also had to perform on command for everyone, so Tino is really good at bowing now.  Trusty is going to Leah's class for Show and Tell in January, we're going to prepare. I'm not sure how, but we will be ready.

I'm going to attend an informational session at the Delta Society next month.  I want to find out if Trusty would make a good "Visiting Pet".  I think he's very mellow and safe, but there are guidelines and certifications before he makes some old person's day.  I think we'd have fun and I'll train him to load via a ramp into a canopy in the back of the truck.  It just seems overkill to load a 200 lb horse into a huge trailer pulled by a huge truck.

Hope you all had a festive feast. 

The Tooth Fairy Cometh

A very interesting day for dentistry.  The vet came by to examine the boys and float teeth, wash sheaths and give vaccinations.  She said that little Trusty had very sharp points, gingivitis and needed his wolf teeth pulled.  Poor little Trusty had the Full Meal Deal!!

He is such a mellow little man that when he was sedated, it was hard to tell.  She was so good with him; giving him a shot of Novacaine to help with the extractions.  They also received Valerian root and Rescue Remedy which greatly reduces the amount of stress.  I think he'll be much happier with a pain free mouth.

Tino did very well, too, he was up and around in about 15 minutes looking for food.  Both boys did not like the sheath cleaning at all, little swishing tails and tiny furious kicks, even under sedation.  I offered to put my face near their little back feet to see what would happen, but Dr. Hannah said we didn't need to find out.

I called my sister to talk with my Mom before they headed over to Mazama for a few days.  She told me that Stu the 'Phew had a loose tooth and was messing with it so Mom (Oma) told him to wrap some floss around it and wiggle the root with it.  As he was twisting the dental floss, Lily told me that Oma came up behind him and hit his elbow really hard, causing him to jerk the tooth right out.  Said it was the funniest thing she evey saw.

I think Oma missed her calling.



I Tried Mister; Really, I Did

Be realistic.  You handed me blog fodder on a big hurkin' platter.  I kept it in for three days, I think that is remarkable restraint.

Okay, let me get this all out to you, faithful readers, so that you may bask in the most amusing of Mister episodes.

We were preparing to go to dinner Sunday night with some friends at Trellis in Kirkland.  Fairly quiet as restaurants go and it was Prix Fixe for $29, score.

I showered, dressed and was drying my hair when the Colonel undressed and I assumed was going to take a shower.  Instead, he reached into a drawer and pulled out small cuticle scissors.  I watched him go into the toilet closet and close the door.  I was puzzling over what he could possibly doing so I asked, "What could you possibly be doing?" He shouted, "Manscaping".  Just as I was thinking that a naked man alone with scissors is not a good mix, he yelped and yelled, "Come here!"

I didn't know what to expect, so when I opened the door to see blood dripping everywhere, my nuturing emergency instincts kicked in as I screamed, "Not on the rug, damnit, stay over the toilet!" You guessed it.  The man had nicked his scrote.  Why he thought he needed a trim in his nether region is beyond me, but there you go...  always keeps the mystery and romance alive, that one.

We got the bleeding to subside and I carefully placed a bandaid on the sacred sack.  He sat somewhat carefully when we arrived at Trellis. We were handed menus and gave our drink orders while we waited.  I glanced down at the menu and what did I see as an offering.....

"Hanging Tenders"


Epic.

Half the Work, Twice the Fun

Tino

Can you stand it?  They're so damn cute I can hardly stand it.

I have to remind myself that although they're so tiny, they can still kick and bite.  Mom, Lily and Leah came to see them while they were eating lunch and of course, DogGus had to get in the middle of it.  That made Valentino mad because he thought his friend AND food was threatened, so he nipped Gus on the back.  Fastest exit by dog ever.

I really wish I would have brought my camera to capture the Colonel walking Trusty on Sunday.  It was so funny.  He was sure everyone driving by was pointing and laughing.  They were.

I can't believe how patient they are with all the fussing.  I guess its because they are certain to receive either baby carrots or little pieces of apple.

Trusty

Dr. Hannah is coming on Thursday to do teeth and sheath.  Google it if you need to know what that is;  this is a family blog, I'm not giving you any smut.

I will allow you to imagine one thing:  Milkduds.

Numb To It All

In my Vicodin induced fog, I am trying to remember when I truly felt this much pain as such was experienced today..  I believe it was when I was bucked off a couple years ago and my neck was so painful I thought I broke it.  I remember cussing up a blue streak and the Colonel telling me to be quiet and I told him to shut the f**k up.

I had no pain with the kick to the face.  Really.  I think it was because the body enters protective shock and I also kept up with the drugs religiously.  My written instructions after this incision was a couple of Advil every few hours.  No biggy.

About 10 PM last night, my head was on fire and I was sure that the doctor nicked my brain.  I took my two of my reserve pain pills and tried to sleep and was not successful.  Took all of my reserves and called him first thing this morning to demand drugs.  I got in to see him and he was overly concerned with my former accident.  Now, keep in mind, I gave him the five page hospital and followup report when I first saw him and we had mutually decided that it was better to cut out skin cancer than live with it.  I've seen him five times and each time, he marvels at my face and talks about horses.  Anyway, I wasn't accepting a prior injury for this pain and finally he told me what he thought happened. 

He said nicked a nerve and that has resulted in the worst headache ever with a completely numb region from my right eye half way over my skull. We hope it goes away. So nice to have almost symmetrical numbness.

I am not one to usually wallow in self pity, but today, I've made an exception.  Plus, my nose looks big in this picture.  Sigh....

14 Stitches, Hurray!

So off to the dermatologist today for a biopsy on the rash on my stomach and check forehead cancer progress. Hello, head injury reminder friend, today is head excision day, conviently forgotten. No Valium to prepare and lots of shots to numb along with deep cutting and more numbing shots so that lasers my be used to create the certain 2" scar. So very happy to add to my collection of facial scars.

The good news is that now, we'll be cutting the stomach area, which is generally covered almost always.

The War Has Begun

Nearly every day, Gus and I go for a short walk through the park, sometimes a long one depending on the weather.  Every time, for the past few months, we see a coyote.  He is quite brave, stopping to stare and then run. There is a smaller one, too, but I've only seen it twice and have heard both of them frequently at night.  I hear them with ear plugs in because DogGus likes to sing along loudly and quite out of key.

I just went out to scoop milk duds (min horse droppings) and Gus' gifts.  There, middle of the lawn;  headless rabbit.  Gus ran over to it, sniffed it and immediately went into a rabid rage of barking, bouncing, howling.  Oh, yeah, baby, you think you gonna come on my territory and leave something like that?!?!!  Yeah, who you think you are, Coyote Corleone? 

He ran over to the gate and pooped.  I tossed the headless warning into the blackberries across the way.  Ick.

It's on.....

It Was Such a Good One!!

We sold our former poop trailer, my Christmas present from 2008.  It was a 5X8 lift and I loved going to Pacific Topsoil, then Flower World, to cleanse the palate.  It was just sitting there and kinda in the way, so I listed it on Craiglist, then it was gone.  I know, dumb, but what the hell.

Now we have the Weiner Horses, as the Colonel calls them.  Although it is small, dog-scoopable poop, it needs to go somewhere.  You can legally dump no more than 10% of your garbage as animal waste (not carcass, mind you, don't want to be doing that!) per my research.  I think we'd come in at about 25% per week, so that's out and why miss a chance for the Colonel to wheel and deal over a NEW trailer?  It's always about the man for me.

So off we go to look at new dump trailers, specifically, the one advertised on Craigslist.  A 4X7 lift dump, so very cute and small for the very cute and small manure.  We drove to "Trailer Boss" a new dealership just outside Mukilteo amongst all the RV and Wally World dealerships.  There it was, new and shiny and very small.  I allowed the Colonel to be the man, all wheeling and dealing (spare tire and new trailer plug electrical converter thingy, woo-hoo, big negotiations!!).

Anyway, during this intense deal, the phone rings and the guy answers and gets all reverent.  He says he is with a customer-all-professional-and-suave and then says to us when he hangs up-  that was the big guy, my boss.  Of course, I had to punt.  "OH, WAS IT THE TRAILER BOSS????"  Just a blank look from him with a mild appreciative snort of acknowledgment from the Mister.  Geez, one of my best and it lands on deaf and lame ears.

Such is my life.

Barbie's Dreamhouse

It really is just like playing Barbies Barnyard.  Mini horses with mini brushes and mini halters and mini buckets and everything!  I played Barbies with Trusty (note to self:  change name, even if it is bad luck) and Valentino (good name, but too long.  He was born on Feb 14 with a heart shaped patch on his forehead;  blue eyes, kinda scary.  Rudy?  Rudy Valentino, get it?  We'll see).

No, I'm not drunk.  I really did sign up to care lease two adorable tiny horses, one of which pulls a cart and is really fun.  He's fifteen, which is two in mini years.   They eat a total of one flake a day. One teeny handful of grain with a half teaspoon of vitamins.  Unreal. 

I was frothing to my friend Lorie today who is all things horsey and is firmly to blame for this because of all kinds of reasons, but at least she thinks the way I do.  Okay, maybe even funnier because she said, "Even their poop is cute, so tiny."  I'm thinking I'll have to use a dinner fork to scoop it.

For now, all is roses and gumdrops.  Give me a week and I'll be, "Goddamnit, whose idea was this to feed these beasts at 6 AM?" 

At least I won't feel the Hoof of Command on my bed and they can't whinny very loud.  They come here tomorrow, oh boy oh boy, the pitter patter of tiny hooves.

Free Booze!!

Off to Mom's for Happy Hour at 3:30.  Yep, when you're old, things start sooner and end sooner.  Also, it's free.  Nothing says Happy Hour when it's free and comes out of a box.

Good times.

My Ghost Story

I was working as a Controller of a motion picture film lab in Seattle (Alpha Cine) in 1990.  It was located at 10th & Denny, across from the Seattle Times building and Thirteen Coins.  It was a three story old brick building with the chemical processing in the basement, offices on the main floor, and post production and theatre on the top floor. 

About a month in, I needed to get some work done prior to Monday.  I went in on Sunday afternoon and I knew I was the only person there because I had to disarm the  alarm.  I made sure the door was locked and planted myself in my office.  I knew that smoking had been allowed at some time in the office because there was a still a faint odor after it was shut up for the weekend. 

I was going through files and starting to work when I smelled cigarette smoke, stronger than what was normal on a Monday morning.  I looked around and checked the offices on either side, but I didn't see anyone or anything.  A few minutes later I thought heard a faint laugh, really deep and hoarse.  I listened for awhile, but didn't hear more, until there was a faint tap, tap, tap down the hallway outside my office.  It sounded like someone in high heels walking down the hall, so I opened my door quickly to see who was there, and.....nothing.  I wasn't frightened, just annoyed, really.

We had a large magnetized security door into the processing area because a lot of chemicals and the original films were stored there.  You could only operate the door if it was physically shut off with the code, which was strictly regulated during the day and always locked down at night.

I just about jumped out of my skin when I heard that enormous metal door slam.  I knew it had been closed because I saw it when I set the alarm.  I was sure then that someone was in the building but I wasn't sure what to do.  I sat there for a while listening and decided to go look.  It was scary and I wasn't sure what I'd do, but I looked down the hall and it was still closed.  I was freaked out so I grabbed my stuff, set the alarm and locked the door.  I waited for awhile in my car to see if someone set the alarm off from the inside or came out, but nothing happened.

The next morning, I checked the alarm register and saw where I had come in and left, but nothing else was registered. 

A few weeks later, a guy in the processing lab was talking about the woman who had died the past year after taking her first vacation in over twenty years.  He said that she had worked there almost 30 years in the processing lab and had finally decided to go to Mexico.  She contracted a disease there and died within a few months.  She had worked in the processing lab and was really crusty, always smoking and telling dirty jokes.  He said she was very well respected and showed me some awards and articles about her.  He said that she was about four feet tall and always wore heels.

I always wondered about that day...

Captive Swooning

I thought it was almost gone, just a touch of wooze, but no; wham, there it is.  Woke up to the ever punctual DogGus Alarm, the general panic of a totally dependent beast to whom imminent starvation precludes all civility.  In my haste and half asleepness, I bent over and fumbled for my slippers and created the all too familiar spins, this time in great force.  Whining and face licking are not cures, nor is the great Paw of Command forcibly thrust upon my knee.  I made it downstairs in spite of the Nascar race for breakfast (which I lost, as usual).

Crisis averted yet again, predictable daily, but always daunting if you are a dog.  It's this thing about selective memory for him.  I can easily tell him I'll be gone for five minutes and if three hours pass, he just yawns upon return.  If food is not immediately in the dish within 20 seconds of entering the kitchen, a great pointy muzzle is thrust against my butt.

In any case, one of us is happy and seems resigned to yet another day of strangers in the yard and on the roof.  It can be exhausting to defend one's property from certain death, so napping is in order.  I am not too thrilled at the prospect of being completely housebound today while great hammering and sawing is performed.  I just hope my drugs kick in soon and I won't care.

That is my report.

It Will Make You Cry

My lip and teeth hurt.  It is because I am laughing so much at my new favorite link.
http://damnyouautocorrect.com/

DogGus thinks I'm the Dorkus today.

Enjoying the Fall

Unfortunately, the vertigo train didn't stop at the station so I could disembark this weekend.  Woke up Friday AM all whirly, so I took an anti-puke pill and slept all the way over to Mazama.  The Colonel and I had a perfect weekend, though.  The first one in twelve years that we didn't have guests or plans. 

We slept in and went to Sun Mountain to walk around the Beaver Pond with Gus.  It was a perfect fall day and full colors were out, so the spinning of the leaves were just that more delightful.  We had lunch at Sun Mtn Lodge, where we rarely go, so it was nice to relax and watch the rain clouds drifting in.  We invited ourselves to dinner at some friends' home, so that worked out well for me...Heard the usual stupid-hunter stories that abound this time of year, but thank god for fast acting Dept. of Game folks.

Sunday was breakfast at We Sell Polenta and then a walkabout with Gus to Hancock Creek down the way.  It's completely deer-fenced off and looks great.

Vertigo is somewhat abated, although I'm still fuzzy.  Naturally, the Colonel is leaving tomorrow for his annual hunting trip to South Dakota, but I will try to stay out of the ER.  As he says, "If it flies, it dies".......

Aptly Named Doctor

I saw my least favorite doctor yesterday, Dr. Richard Hoistad, Otolaryngologist.  It's not his fault because he has to make an accurate diagnosis, but when one is forced to throw up due to his work, the bottom of the list is yours.  Dr. Dick told me that my BPPV (vertigo) is back and that I need drugs and PT, again.  I told him that I knew it was back, but it didn't seem so bad, so maybe it was just a sinus infection???  Ever hopeful, I am.  He doesn't even try to mask his look of pity and/or disgust, so hopefully, my throwing up in a bag in front of him increased that disgust.

Well, Dr. Dick, I am about 90% better today, no thanks to you, so you can just tell someone else, "Hey, it's not like cancer, you will get better".  Lovely bedside manner, that one.

Driving Drunk, Again

I'm pretty good at it.  I'm ever so careful, no music, no coffee, no distractions and exactly 2 miles below the speed limit.  Of course, this is to go .8 miles to the store and back in the 25 mph school zone, but still, I'm out of the house.

I have an appointment to go see my Vet today to determine if I have an ear or sinus infection which is causing the vertigo and I will drive carefully, again.  The mammogram lady already yelled at me for driving and I am still stinging from that and I'm sure she crushed my boob extra hard for emphasis.

Gus went to the Vet this morning with the Mister, but it was all good;  he had acupuncture again.  He is now sleeping peacefully and seems quite content. 

My daughter-in-law brought these pictures on Saturday that she had taken when he was so little. 

He fit in my lap for about three days!!

And his head is now bigger than the Colonels'.

Just a Random Collection

Well, I Was Wrong

I'll woman up, I'm not afraid. It wasn't a $300 bill this time, it was $279.62. It would have been even less, but we absolutely needed animal antibiotic cream for $34 that just coincidentally contains the exact same ingredients as Walgreenatracin for $2.99.

In any case, he is now taking 9 meds per day and I must take a stool sample in to rule out Ebola. Like father, like son.

So in the additional suckage report, the god awful vertigo is back. Woke up at 5:21 AM on Thursday to the big whirlies. No idea why, but since I needed to have a mammogram at 9 AM, I threw up, took some anti-puke pills and treated myself to that wonderful squashing that only we girls truly appreciate.

Kudos to the Colonel for picking up Mom to take her to the bank and dentist. They also enjoyed a delightful lunch at the "Noodle Place" (Pho-Thai) while Gus and I napped. Good times.

More Poop

Well, it's just a good thing I am an Amateur Scatologist.  I was walking DogGus Dorkus and I tried not to notice the nasty poop he took and then I really had to notice the bloody mess coming out.  Not gushing, mind you, but a long, pencil thick line that to shows off his snowy white butt hairs in stark contrast.

He's been taking several different meds for his deer crash and I don't think they agree with him.  I also found chunks of bone that he threw up a couple days ago, so that could be tearing his lower dog butt parts.  He seems okay, hungry, but he's off to the vet in an hour to be sure.  This isn't his woowoo vet that does acupuncture (she's not available), so we're off to his regular scratch-my-head-he-probably-has-a-yeast-infection-that-will-be-$300 vet.  He really does prefer woowoo, but only because she allows two cats and three small dogs to roam the waiting room freely and he likes them all.

I need to get my DVM from Google now to round out the rest of my medical training.

Docudumpery

Is it weird that when Denny, Gus and I go on a walk, we all have to yell out, "Poop!" when we see some?  Well, Gus doesn't, but he does share a mild interest.  I counted 7 piles of coyote poop today, including one fresh with lots of grass.  The most interesting one had a ton of plum pits in it.

I know.  I could totally work for CSI.

Useless and Useful

Silly....

Practical....

If you're showing, sheep at the fair, they need to be Woolite fresh.  Wonder if these are sheepskinned lined?

Well, yes, yes, I believe they are!!

It Was a Sticky Situation, All Right.

Funny thing, this drug that helps my face cope. Some of the side effects are sleepiness, blurred vision, seizures, vomiting, etc. You know, the usual.

I went to my hair stylist yesterday and she asked if I had noticed a loss of hair. Well, yes, actually, yes, I did. Every time I washed it, a big nest would appear in the shower drain catchy thing. Also, brushing seemed to cause more shedding lately. Guess what another side effect of the neuralgia meds brings?

Yeah, well, it's not only the scalp hair involved, which reminded me of an interesting adventure I had a few years ago whilst still employed.  I recall that it was a particularily busy day with meetings lined up nearly back to back.  I know I had a few minutes to snarf a sandwich and then run to the restroom to check my teeth prior to the next meeting with a potential client.  Because I didn't have time to brush my teeth, I popped in a piece of gum, checked my teeth and sat down to pee.  Chewing gum is verboten in my book and I intended to toss it but in my rush, figured I'd spit it out between my legs to save time.  Right.  You can guess what happened.  Stuck fast in the nether region, it was.  I didn't have time to do anything about it, so I wadded up some tissue to put over the wad so it wouldn't stick to my underwear.

Don't remember the meeting, but I do remember the lumpish stickiness of my issue in the tissue the entire time.  I remember wondering if I could sneak out for some Goo-Gone or if regular oil would work.  Then thinking that I don't want to smell like Goo-Gone or have oil all over my crotch, so I guess I'd snip the gum (and tissue) out.

I snuck some scissors in the stall and set to work.  A few days later, The Colonel asked what happened.  I coyly told him that I thought I'd prepare a landing strip for him.  He told me that it was more of a helicopter pad, kinda like the ones in the jungles of Vietnam.  Still, the romance continues....

So, Here We Go

I rode Mariah today and had an absolute blast.  Got on, walked, trotted and cantered.  She is just a big ole thing, like riding a couch, and we had fun.

So I'm back in the saddle, officially.

I also looked at this picture for the first time today.  Amazing.

We Lost That Loving Feeling

Gus is not a city dog.   We went for a walk from my friend Judy's house in Bellevue all around downtown and had coffee off of Main Street.  He was curious and very polite to a bunch of people who ooohed and ahhhed over him.  He appropriately found grass for his business and refrained from peeing on lightpoles.  The fountain in Bellevue Park, was too much, though.  He jumped in and swam about and had a nice time.  The little Maltese in the sailor outfit looked mortified, as did the twin Pugs.  I'm afraid that the likes of his big splattering shake-off has not been seen before in this place.

I furthered his fun day by a trip out to Flower World to dump the final load of Bombay's poop.  He likes to watch the hydraulic lift of the trailer. It was rather sad, seeing the last of the boy's excrement which I had so lovingly collected.  I decided to wash the poop trailer at the local car wash and promptly lost the loving feelings as I sprayed manure all over myself.

Gus recommended a bath in the fountain.

Warning....Not For the Faint of Heart

I know, two in one day, but the last one was such a bummer, let's end on a high note, shall we?

This is Jay's recent surgery scar.  Do you like it?  I do.  He blew out his achilles whilst playing tennis, so it is a very cool sports injury.  Yay, Jay!!

And this is just an ugly dog for fun.

You're most welcome.

It Comes Around, Again

I just finished reading my friend's blog.  Her cancer is back, they found three spots in her lungs.  She has been battling this for four years and thought it was licked about two years ago and nope, it came back. So more chemo and I can't even count how many surgeries she's had and fortunately, no colostomy bag (it's the sexy cancer, rectal, if you remember).  Now what?  Why is this happening to her?  She has two small boys and a loving husband and great parents and tons of friends.  She was the one that convinced me to blog and now I feel really dumb because, really, who cares that I have a scar? 

Perspective, one more time, but enough already....

The Italian Stallion

This picture makes me laugh.  I love it.  We were in Florence in 2008 and of course, I have to meet the police horse.  Really, I had no interest in the cop.  I asked Denny to take a picture of me and the horse and the big lug sidles up to me and Denny just cracked up.  He's not only touching my boob, where the hell is his underwear??  OMG, I see the Last Supper, the David, the Coliseum, but this is pretty much the highlight of the trip.




Okay, even the HORSE is touching my boob.



He Does Know How to Tie a Tourniquet

Watching the movie, "127 Hours".  Makes me a bit worried about the Mister, off in the Pasayten wilderness, fishing with his buddies.  I'm not sure why, he is Mr. Prepardness,  and has been ready for weeks.  We even slept on the deck one night to test the tent, pad and sleeping bag.  His friends came for one night in Mazama before departure and I laughed to see a bottle of Dewars Scotch and a can of Off in the guest room.  I teased him about having special gifts for his boyfriends and of course, he was most offended and assured me that was extra provisions for his camp out.  Well, lets see....two bottles of nasty Scotch, five bottles of wine,  20 some cigars,  a big gun and a big knife...that should do it.

Actually, the pack team will bring in the coffee makers, sun showers and other civilized crap, but I just worry about the recent Grizzly sightings in the area.  He does have his satellite tracker in case of emergency and four other experienced guys, but still.  It has snowed at this time of year and although he has survived a night in the desert with just a knife and a year in Vietnam, he is my man and used to creature comforts.

Let's hope he doesn't need that special knife to cut off his arm.

Call Me Crazy

This is Mariah.  She is a good horse.  She is half draft/half Quarter Horse and looks like a mini Budweiser horse, don't you think?


Mariah in Mazama


Another horse, Torie, is in the background.  She belongs to my friend and owner of the greatest stable in the known world (well, my world anyway).  She is a really good Reiner and if you know what that is, you know what that means.  I rode Torie once on a long trail ride and she is a great horse, too.  I'm afraid Reining would start my vertigo again.

Mariah likes carrots, lots of them.  She is a bit slanted to the front, but that's okay.  She and I talked a bit a few weeks ago and she is quite calm and nice.  I figure if Leo who never rides can ride her, then she might be a good starter horse for me.  I am going to ride her this weekend and think about leasing her.  What does the Colonel think?  He doesn't say a word because he is a very good and very smart man.

Happy Anniversary, Sort Of

Today is the 20th anniversary of the first date that I had with the Mister.  I don't really think it was a date, but the Mister insists, so be it.  Another day to get jewelry, I'm all about that. 

We had lunch at the Tower Club that day because he was trying to impress me.  Also, very coincidentally, he was being featured on Evening Magazine (again) that night, so all the waiters were, "Oh Mr. Weston, I can't wait to see you tonight.  Mr. Weston, are you riding your motorcycle?"  He was on the Tom Brokaw show as one of the business guys who rode way back in the day.  Yeah, whatever.  It killed him that I didn't ask, so finally he said, "I have a Harley".  I said, "I know, you wore the tee shirts." (Business Week '91, where we met)  "Well, that doesn't mean I own a Harley, you know."  "Well, if you didn't, it'd be kinda pathetic."  That was our first date, but lunch really isn't a date, don't you think?

Today, I rode my bike (not a Harley) to the Mazama store and along the way, saw very fresh bear poop and scared myself when I came around the corner face to face with a turkey vulture.  It was eating the dead salmon along the river, just like the bear does.  I thought it was a bear, so I yelled and it just hopped.

We had lunch at the store, I had to show some locals closeups of my face, and when we got home, the Mister came up with some newfangled way to hang his boat in the barn so the packrats wouldn't nest in it.  Long story.  Gus tried to get something under the deck and I finished another book and took a nap.  Now, we're off to the Freestone Inn for dinner and then going to see Jay, who tore his achilles tendon in half and had surgery.  The only thing I can think of to bring him is tequila, because it helps with the pain pills.  This much I know.

I know it's the anniversary of 9/11, but we aren't celebrating that.  We remember, but will not dwell.

Good Smellin' Times

The Mister decided to go fishing today.  Why, in 95 degrees, would that be much fun, I'm sure I don't know.  Gus and I decided on a walkabout in the shade before it hit 95.  We strolled down past the new Riperian Easement Protected by the Methow Conservancy (this deserves caps because it is very exciting for us.  Legally, all the 314 acres we view past our property is now protected lands and the stream has been restored to it's original glory, not the cow stomped mud hole it used to be.  Also, we won't have to call our neighbor who is slow to gather up his frickin' cows every time they break down the fence.  THE COWS ARE GONE.)  I digress.

What is it about dead stuff that is so very exciting to a dog?  There was a large dead snake on the trail and Dorkus has to roll and roll and bury his face, look at me, look at me, oh bliss, I shall smell like this nasty half chewed snake.  His eyes were all gleaming with excitement and he was smiling from pointy ear to pointy ear in joy, snake guts dripping off his head.  At least it wasn't the dead salmon that the bear left on the river bank last year.  Four scrubbings and tomato juice and finally, some very expensive, "Get the Stink Out" stuff did it.  It was horrible.

We did pass the stream where it connects to the Methow River, so he fortunately went in and got the snake stench off.  Then we came to the cattle guard to continue the trail.  I was ready to open the barb wired fence gate, but he tip toed across, which surprised me.  We chased numerous squirrels and ran from a deer, which means he remembered his lesson.

Now he is exhausted and snoring on the bed.  Gus is, too.

Horse Hugs

Bombay showed up at the back fence the other day. Holly, his new owner and some of her friends rode by and called me. I ran out to see them and he walked right up to me and nuzzled me, then tried to get into the gate because he was home. Holly said he knew exactly where he was going on the trail. His name is now Tango, which fits him well, based on the fantastic gaiting he showed me up and down the trail. He was used as a lesson horse at a kids' camp in Cle Elum for six weeks and he really enjoyed himself. Holly demonstrated his gaits by tying different colored ribbons on each fetlock. I can see that he is happy, calm and a much loved horse. I hugged his head and told him he was such a good boy and to live a long, healthy life. He hugged me back, which is very cool, if you've ever experienced it. He arched his neck over my shoulder and pulled me into his chest. Very touching with no doubt how he feels.

I always smile now when I think of that sorrel butt sashaying down the trail.

Where Does the Time Go?

Henry's Sisters
The Inglorious Life of Bezelia Grove
Girls in White Dresses
Sister:  A Novel
Saving CeeCee Honeycutt
Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen
One Flight Up
The Winter Sea
The Arrivals
Covered Wagon Women
What Alice Forgot
Caleb's Crossing
Doc
This Life is In Your Hands
The Apothecary's Daughter
Fireflies
Cranford
Father of the Rain
The Forgotten Garden
Heaven is For Real
The Kitchen House
Life on the Mississippi
How to Be an American Housewife
Mistress of the Vatican
Olive Kitteridge
The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance
Outside the Ordinary World
The Weird Sisters
A Scattered Life
The Shopkeeper
Shanghai Girls
The Shut Mouth Society
Spoilt
Stage Door Canteen
Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie
Unbroken
My Name is Mary Sutter
Memoirs of a Medici Princess
Kitchen Confidential
The Heretics Daughter
Half Broke Horses

This is a list of most of the books I've read (on my Kindle) since May 1. I also read two or three hard books from the library every couple weeks and listen to books on CD  in the car.  I guess I live in fantasy land about five hours a day, maybe more if it's a good book.

To think I had time to ride a horse.

Horse Tacos

I did know about blood soup, that was just what you made after butchering a cow. Why let all that protein go to waste? Mix it up with just squeezed milk and you've got yourself Ambrosia. So my Mom and Omi said.

Mom told me an interesting tale. My Opa (her Dad), fought in the Calvary for the Germans. He was based on the front lines, with horses pulling the cannons. Seemed as though running out of food and ammunition wasn't his idea of a fair fight, so he and a few comrades took the horses and fled. The went straight to the British and said, we're done, you win, do what you will with us. Well it was a good thing they thought to bring the horses or else they and quite a few others would have starved over the weeks it took to get to the prison camps.

Mom says horse meat is just fine, can be a bit gamey, but of course, she didn't get the organic, grain fed, free range variety. I'll take her word for it.

There is about 40,000 lbs of horsemeat at the stable across the way.  Good to know in these hurricane times.

Sports Injuries Can Be Overrated

So I finally decided that all this weird zinging through my cheek and icy cold nostril pain might be worth a look.  It's hard to hit a decent fairway shot when your nose feels stung by bees.  Turns out there is an official diagnosis:  Trigeminal Neuralgia, most commonly occurring post injury to the face.  Yes!  That would be me!  Yes, indeed, please tell me it is real.

It is all good, really, it just means healing, but I thought healing meant more nice feelings in the face, not strange there-is-chicken-caught-between-my-teeth-and-I-must-floss-three-times-a-day. You know that feeling; a big chunk of something hanging there and everyone can see it and you bother it constantly with your tongue.   Not sure what is worse, duck lips or chicken chunks.

I got a drug prescribed for seizures and face pain, so I suppose all will be well.  I need to wait a few days to see if it works at the lowest dose and then look for those comforting side effects like drowsiness, nose picking, hair loss, hallucinations, lice, vomiting, eyebrow discoloration, insatiable sex drive (you wish, Mister!) and green tongue.

Stay tuned.

It Comes In Threes

It all hit before 9 AM. I waltzed off to see Dr. Bunas, or Stanley Bunass, as I secretly refer to him, to proudly show him that I took out my own stitches, you're welcome. I forgot the part where he tells me the results of pathology, because the past three times have all been the same; basal cell carcinoma, early catch, off with you now.

This time it's didn't get the margins, let's have you heal a bit and then we'll have another go, shall we? I guess we shall. Bigger punch, more stitches.

Stop by the vet after seeing him because it is on the way to the golf course where I am going to play nine with some buds. Gus' x-rays don't show any breaks or disc damage, but we feel there are spinal contusions, shall we do a MRI? No, no we shall not. What we will do is acupuncture, it helped me, it helped Bombay, and it will help Doggus Dorkus.

On the way to golf, phone call from the Mister to tell me that a friend of ours is recovering from brain surgery to remove a cancerous tumor. He'll be doing Chemotherapy Light (pill), and the prognosis is good, but still.

I guess I should have just expected that the golf schedule got docked up so I couldn't play with my group (someone erased my name), but I just hitched up with another foursome and had a delightful time. I played with a woman who has been a member since 1952, all 4'8" of her. It was like Dorf golf. She didn't hit far, but it was always straight and she never apologized for any shot. I'm gonna be just like that when I'm that age. I shall golf the way I want, rules and scorecards be damned.

That is my blahg report for today.

Wrinkly? Get a Scar.

Had to get up extra early today. Mom needed a fasting glucose blood test and Lord help us if she doesn't get breakfast in a timely manner. I set my alarm, but as usual, a large fuzzy, smelly face whined at me to get up now, yes, now, now was breakfast time, please, now. That Mister can be demanding.

Off to Group Health lab for the blood draw, in which I kindly remind the vampiress that although I have seen you twice a month for two years, the old lady still needs a pediatric needle in the arm, not her hand. Sigh.

Breakfast at IHOP so Mom could be pleased with the enormous amount of sodium piled meats offered for such a deal. "Such a deal!", she crows, making sure to drink all the coffee from the large carafe, because that's a deal, too.

It was still too early for Bed Bath & Crap to be open, so we meandered in Fred Meyer. She kept going over her list, which included a new pillow, ironing board and yarn. I now know where my out of body shopping habit comes from. She was convinced she needed a dryer ball. "Mom, you don't do laundry, the staff does it for you and I wash your fancy stuff, remember?". The concept of the dryer ball was fascinating. I don't even know what it is and really, don't need to find out, but the Hausfrau in Charge reasoned that she wouldn't need the ironing board if she had a dryer ball. Long story, but I left without napkin rings and now own a dryer ball. Mom has an ironing board, so I say we're even.

Lots of face pressure lately and I am pleased to report that I can wiggle both nostrils. Always a crowd pleaser, that trick. Had a basal cell carcinoma punched from my forehead and I've decided that wearing the bandaid is not as fun as shocking people with stitches.

More facial scars, that's what I like.

Pre Functioning Prior to Elementary School

We really haven't changed that much after 43 years.  Who goes to their kindergarden reunion?  I do.



Me, right in the middle.  Note the "Heidi of the Alps" braids and dirndl.  Thanks, Mom.  Photographer thought he took two pics by mistake, that's why Lily isn't in the pics.  Silly twins.




In the middle, behind the clown pants.  Lily is being the goof this time.

 The guy I beat up I still wanted to beat up;  he spilled a drink on my shoe within five minutes of reunionizing.  Serious party foul.  No wonder I punched him.  The class clown is still the clown (note the clown pants).  And the nerd guy is now talking about IT for the FBI instead of slide rulers for 2nd grade.

Way fun.

Deer Me, Those Are Strange Boots

So I'm sitting here in Eastern Washington wearing a fleece jacket at the end of July.  It's not warm.  I just got off the phone with friends in New York and they told me about their trip to Maine last weekend where it was much cooler at 98 degrees.  I just imagine nasty stink when I think of that hot and humid in a city.  Sweaty, oily, grimy, pollution, stink.  I am not complaining one bit about wearing clean smelling fleece.

Gus is having a terrific time here.  He's been hiking every day with me and not one bit of cheat grass in his paws.  Of course, it wouldn't be fun without a trip to the vet which is what we did last Thursday because he would start his motorcycle at all hours of the night and look slightly alarmed at his lack of control.  Vet determined that he probably has slight nerve damage due to the tumble with the fierce Mama Deer.  He is on low dose pain meds that make him stumble around like a zombie until he falls over.  It's pretty funny, so I might slip some into DW's drink.  While I was there, a baby Jack Russell Terrier got his cast off his broken leg (deer attack), Dachsund got 42 stitches out (deer attack) and the vet told me he wrapped a Lab's broken ribs and put down a German Shepherd the week before because of deer.  Needless to say, Gus hardly leaves the deck.

I found these pictures of the boy and thought it ironic that he fought his first deer at five weeks old.  Wasn't he cute??

Not so cute; cheat grass removal surgery.

I just booked a trip to Wickenburg, AZ to go back for the sixth time, I think, to Rancho de Los Callaberos, a dude ranch with a golf course.  We'll go for six days and I will ride, probably twice a day.  I hope I get Hoser, he's the little Mexican horse that I've ridden every time and we team penned and set the course record.  He must be over 20 now, so maybe not in service.  Denny rode a horse I called Sherman as in Tank because he was a Draft/QH cross.  What I like best about the Ranch is that you can actually gallop the desert trails.  What I like second best is watching all the weird groupies that hang out there while someone dries out nearby at the rehab place.  David Gest (who married Liza Minelli) showed up once and sat behind us.  The Colonel asked me if we should ask him to join us because he looked lonely.  He didn't know who he was.  Dude shows up for dinner in sunglasses and is really scary looking.  No, we will not ask him to sit with us, no, that is not happening.  Some female rappers' posse was there once, too.  Talk about out of place.  Kinda hard to ride in spike heels.

Better Than Picking My Butt

I know, I've slowed down on the posts.  Not because I don't have terribly exciting adventures every day, it's just that they're only terribly exciting if you're me.  Here are some of my latest adventures and then I shall bestow upon you exactly what my health status is as of today.  Stay tuned.

1.  I see Goldy twice a week to crack my back. 
2.  I get a massage.
3.  I pull on different size rubber tubes and pretend that I'm "working out".
4.  I take Gus for walks or walkabouts, as he prefers.  He checks his pee-mail and poops and I pretend I dont' see anything.  I figure if horses can poop in Bridle Trails, so can dogs.
5.  I had my hair straightened and cut.
6.  I went to see Clinton Anderson, famous Aussie horse trainer, do his thing at Showare Center in Kent.  It was fun.
7.  I danced to 80's rock with the Mister.
8.  I put Frontline tick crap on Gus' back.
9.  I went to Costco.

You get the picture.  Too exciting for words.  Literally.

That being said, my neck and butt still hurt occasionally and my upper lip and nostril are still numb.  I get occasional zaps across my face and in the orbital eye area, but this is supposed to be normal, according to my Google MD.  My dentist took an xray and said none of my teeth are broken at the root, but that I could lose a couple within a years time because my palate is shifted. 

My nostril occasionally itches like crazy and it hurts so good to scratch it like a nasty six year old boy, but what the hell, you gotta do what you gotta do.  Sometimes I think I'll touch my brain if I get up to the first knuckle, but not yet.

The Mister turns 65 this weekend and I can't believe I'm married to a man on Medicare.  Of course, he doesn't look like it, he's quite a handsome sort, looks like George Hamilton without the melanoma skin.  I got him the sweetest birthday gifts:  a tee shirt with his name on it:  "Colonel Angus" and a matching Confederate hat. 

How's that for true love?

Classic Stuisms

Stu da Phew is almost 10 and still pretty funny, but he was quite funny when he was younger.  Mike taught him important words like shock absorber and infrastructure as soon as he could talk.  Nothing important like his name, address or phone number.

Anyway, I kept a collection of funny things he said so I wouldn't forget.  Being the proud aunt (and Mister uncle), we had the important duties of teaching, "Pull My Finger", and assorted good bathroom jokes.  These are all between talking and about four years old. I have cut and pasted some of his finer comments:

Stu said to me, "Sphincter says what?  Heidi says what."  Very funny.

I asked Stu what days he went to preschool.  He said Thursday and I asked what other days.  He replied, "Thursday and then the next Thursday after that." 

Stu called last night. He made me listen to his new DVD. He said it had cars and was called, "Grocery Racer". Lily said it was "Go Speed Racer".

So I had the 'Phew spend the night.  As I was getting his bath ready, he turned to me and said, "Heidi, let's make a deal.  Let's not twist anybody's nipples."  I agreed.

Sitting around the table talking about voting with Stu da Phew and gang the other night.  Stu said to me, "Heidi, I voted."  I aske, "Who did you vote for?"  He replied, "I voted for Canada."

And finally, just this week, he was telling me all about horse camp.  What the horses' names were, how tall, what color and which one they rode, except for one that was in the field because someithing was wrong with it.  I asked him, "Was he lame?"  Stu said, "No, he was pretty cool."

Chance of Showers

The good ole days, two weeks before the head banging in Palm Desert......

I Golf, Therefore, I Am

I hit the links for the first time in over four months and although that first round was quite expensive (CC dues for storing my clubs), it was rather good. First time I didn't feel guilty for not exercising the horse instead, a strange behavior, indeed.

Frankly, I find golf rather mundane, but enjoy the social part. It never fails to amaze me how some people, mostly (well, only) men, find it necessary to retell and relive their every shot. I just think, well, that's about four hours of my life I'll not get back.

But still, it's better than a swift kick to the head.

Natural Dogmanship Training

Poor Doggus Dorkus Erectus. I got up at the "Paw of Command" alarm (a large paw slams the bed so that the earth shakes) early this morning and went outside with him to greet the day. We both saw a doe strolling leisurely down the driveway and he decided to go make friends. I saw the tiny fawn too late but fortunately, it ran in the opposite direction while Mama ran straight for Gus. He was startled and regained his hearing and just as he turned toward me, she ran over him and bowled him over.

He came running with his nubby tail tucked down, but unhurt. That was one mean Mama.

Nature's shock collar of training.

Bella, Bella, Bella

I'm trying out the different ways to call two dogs. Kinda like my Mom when she'd yell, "HeidiLily" at dinnertime. I think it will be, "Gussybelle". Gus' breeder used to call all the puppies with, "cookie, cookie", so when it was dinnertime and I'd yell, "Gussie, Gussie!", same results. He'd be over at neighbor dog Ben's house and he'd come screaming around the silo up on the deck, smiling and panting.

Now, with new girl, Bella, I hope it works the same way. She sounds so much like Doggus Dorkus with favorite toys going to bed, happy kisses and being involved every minute. As much as I love him, I don't need help putting on socks and shoes, using the toilet or walking down stairs. Walking(racing and stumbling) down stairs in the morning is akin to Doggy NASCAR; the finish line is the food bowl.

Bella is the new girl that has come into our lives at a time that we are needing to pay it forward. Her owner is dying of cancer and doesn't have long and wants the peace of mind to know that her special girl will have a new home with much love. I hope Bella will comfort as long as possible and then we are able to comfort Bella as she grieves.

Life is too short and precious not to give where we can.

BTW, Goldy had a girl.

Submission of the Fittest

Dr. Goldy's wife did indeed mess up my fame by going into labor and resulting in a cancelled appointment.  (I'll call today to find out boy or girl and Mom is at the ready with pink or blue booties.) Thus, my butt and shoulder and neck hurt.  Actually, it's not my butt, but lower back near butt and actually, I think it was the three hour drive to get to Mazama that twisted me.  I drove all by myself!  Okay, Gus was in the car, but he doesn't drive very well, so he was the Navigator.

We are delighted to be here and the Colonel shall be arriving soon, more delight.  No evidence of marmots or mice in the barn, first time in twelve years.  Lots of foxtails (cheatgrass or sock rockets) but Gus was shaven for summer, including between his hooves.  We're going for a walk as soon as I'm done here.

I went to We Sell Polenta down the road for dinner with Claire. (It's Wesola Polano- "Happy Polish Valley" or something equally weird, so our name fits.)  They've got the tapas menu figured out and an impressive book of drinks.  I think that's why it's such a happy valley in Poland, a lot of hard liquor goes a long way.

There is a dog enclosure there so we were entertained by the various and sundry dogs-  some obviously city and some definitely country.  A German Shepherd puppy was placed with a small carefully groomed white puffball and medium sized mix.  The puffball promptly attacked the Shepherd.  Claire said that this particular dog had been attacked numerous times around the Valley, so I watched for a while and soon saw why.  Although she was submissive, she didn't get the cues to back off.  She'd try to play and paw and even though teeth were bared, she'd jump on the dog, resulting in an attack.  Three more dogs, all smaller, did this with her.  Claire and I agreed, this is survival of the smarter here, not the submissive and extremely annoying.  It's kinda like that with people, too, isn't it? 

I don't want to jinx it, so I'm not gonna say, but we may be adding to our wee family.  When I know more, I'll say more. For now, I will dominate over my large, semi-alpha male.  And Gus, too.

The Mister found a slug in the kitchen sink.  Yes, a slug that would normally be outside.  I really don't know how it got there.  I haven't brought in any flowers or vegetables from the outside, although once, our previous dog, Jack, brought in a lizard that was sleeping in his dense fur during the winter.  We actually saw it crawl out of his belly once it got warm in the house.  Just like the "Meat Dog" video, we all looked at each other and said, "What was in there?"  Poor thing, all confused and stumbling about.

So I started looking around the garden and low and behold-  slugs and snails galore.  Here I am, all worried about my big duck lip and vertigo while a huge slime party is booming in the hood.

This is a scientific rendering of some different slugs you might find in the garden, including the fur covered Beluga whale sort that I have yet to see.

I set out upon an natural and organic way to discourage them.  I researched online and found salt and beer was an approach.  Hunt and pick and salt.  Watch them writhe and shrivel.  Good times.

I salted about five slimers before it got boring.  I really wished it was about 80 degrees out so that I could get the magnifying glass out and fry their brains out, but hey, it's Seattle.

I decided to carefully pour beer into lids and wait for them to presumably think it's Friday and free beer and Party On!!  Then drive drunk and die, sucker.  I am fully convinced that they not only thought it was Party Time, it was let's get really hammered and use no slug protection and fornicate willy nilly through the gardens. I swear the population doubled.

Quick trip to Lowes, Tra, la, la.  Hmmm.....can you help me find the most poisonous, vile substance known to evil, glutinous, drunk creatures?  Cyanide, you say?  Arsenic?  All very good, thank you, please load me up.  (Fortunately, Doggus Dorkus turns up his nose at anything not absolutely dripping in blood and priced at $13 per feeding.)

So I am sitting here, straining to hear the little screams of perishing slimeballs. 

Fuckers.