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.

Busta Move

More like bust my butt.  Damn, does my hip hop hurt.  The Colonel and I danced like fools and had a great time last night.  We saw lots of great friends and enjoyed most excellent food and beverages.  Unlike others, I did not wear turquoise eye shadow to be in costume for the simple fact that I do not own any.

We walked down to the Party in the Park slightly hung over for our duties this morning and  just missed the Performing Pigs!!!  Mister had to book down there to tear it down and I think he got dirtier than the pigs.  Of course, I didn't get any pictures, but  I am certain that had I been there in time, this is the exact picture I would have taken.

While waiting for my shift to start, I glanced toward the stands only to see Dr. Crackem Backem.  An interesting note about my chiropractor.  You know how doctors and salespeople and my nephew Stu when he learned to talk will constantly say your name when they meet you so they won't forget?  Well, every time I see him, he of course says, "Heidi Weston".  After about the fourth time, I said, "M. Golden Larson".  Mind you, his full name is Matthew Golden Larson, I saw it on his diploma.  Now, I say, "M. Golden Larson", before he can say my name, to which he replies, "M.D.".  Well, yes, that is a given.  I asked him why he has his business cards printed with M. Golden Larson and he said it was a family name.  This is also on his door and all advertising.  I asked him what his friends call him (you know, expecting "Goldy" or something equally clever).  He told me they call him Matt.  I'm still puzzling over that.

Anyway, I saw Goldy and he introduced me to his hugely and I mean, HUGELY, pregnant wife.  I must have looked surprised to see a hugely pregnant woman sitting on cement bleachers at a Performing Pig show because he said, "We're due in five days".  Of course, I blurt out, "But we have an appointment in five days."  God, I could so be a celebrity.  Me, me, look at the world revolving all about me...

While I was also at the Party in the Park, I randomly looked down and saw this:

I forgot that we had bought a brick a few years ago.  It is located at the top of the steps in the bleachers on the north side in case you wanted to look at it, too.

Yet more evidence of my fame.

Perfoming Pigs Party

A very busy weekend is planned.  I'm going to visit Cody before her adventure at horse camp next month and then go listen to music tomorrow night.  The Mister made me promise that nobody would make him drum.  I won't, but I can't guarantee that anybody else won't try.  He really is a good drummer;  I listened to a few songs he cut in the day and he can rock some serious rhythm.  He gave up a full scholarship to college for music (trumpet) to enlist in the Army, but he did what he thought was right.

Then, one of the funnest things I've been looking forward to on Saturday:  Bridle Trails Party in the Park.  The performing pigs, equestrian drill team, pony rides and miniature horse demos!!  Oh boy.  We try to volunteer every year and fortunately, I'm doing the seated sales table while the Mister is doing set up and take down for the events.  Yes, he will help get the little platforms and hoops ready for the pigs!!  I'll try to get pictures, hopefully with the pigs.  I'm sure there will be afternoon napping with Gus because it is now expected and a habit and all the excitement will do us in.

Sunday will be a delayed Father's Day Seafood Feast at my son's house.  He's not my birth son, especially since he's five years younger than me, but still, he and his wife are my family.  He's a mullet wearing, soccer playing brute, about 6'4" and one of the kindest men I know.  I adore my three granddogs, too.  We once had a New Years' Eve party in Mazama with their kids and ours and a few friends and I counted seven dogs in the house and sledding.  Way good times.

Get a Dog

I know it's scripted, but so unbelievably sad.  Two "16 year olds" are going to be parents and look, we're so wonderful and big belly, look at me, and we're in love and look at me some more, we're on TV, and we're all grown up and the center of attention.  Another show to watch because it's summer and I still can't do much and I've not see it and everything else is now reruns. Total train wreck, and totally preventable.  MTV's "16 and Pregnant", my new find.  I think it should be mandatory viewing for kids over 12.

I can't stop watching it.  The sad parents, the pathetic "understanding" friends, the lame boyfriends.  The only decent episodes are when the babies are given up for adoption.  Granted, there are a few parents of the kids that actually raise their grand kids, but really, is that the best option?  I really admire the parents that gave their daughter a puppy and said, go ahead, raise it and see how fun it is.   After having to get up and let the puppy out at 5 AM for a week or so, she decided that having a baby might not be all that great.  Wow.  Where are all the young dads?  For the most part, off the hook.  No job, no money, no big deal.

I will be the Aunt that shows this show to my niece and nephew when they are old enough.  Don't be stupid.  Don't look for "something to love".  Don't totally screw up your life.  Don't totally screw up an innocent life.   Please note:  I am not a parent, but I was a sixteen year old once.  I got the part about don't even think about being stupid and getting pregnant.  Probably because it wasn't the current fad back in the day and I'd seen and helped with plenty of animal births.  I also knew how to prevent it, which seems pretty reasonable knowledge for most pre-teens now.

That is my soapbox for tonight because Mister couldn't find the I-Pad stylus and I had to order one from Amazon.  Yes, I could go to the mall and buy one, but that would mean going to the mall. 

I would rather get a puppy.

Finger Painting

Saw the ENT today to suitably impress him with my progress.  The only weird thing that has come up is the wonky taste in my mouth, just the back half of my tongue.  He said it was normal, and would come back when the nerve healed but sweet things, including chocolate, taste like copper.  Not all that tasty.  I guess it could be worse. 

I took no ibuprofen today and my neck feels fine.  I get an occasional twinge in my shoulder, but way better than last week and certainly WAY better than before that.  My only real issue of the day is a lack of pole bean plants, but I shall overcome that dilemma soon, never fear.

My new drawings were done on Penultimate on my I-Pad, but with my finger, not the stylus.  It is very difficult to draw an eyeball with just a finger, so I have commanded the Mister to give up his stylus which is at his office.  At least he'll have a hope of looking better on paper that way.



Isn't it funny that "Colon" makes up "Colonel"?  I think so.



Branching Out

Look, look, look.  I can draw.  Yes, it is a drawing.  It is a drawing of me.

Okay, next time I'll use darker ink or something, but it was my first attempt, give me a break, geesh.

Golfing With Purpose

Spent a delightful evening in a Seattle Hotel golfing last night.  I don't know why I thought that I would be able to virtual golf in heels, but it neither added nor detracted from the game.  I was able to half swing and still go about 52 yards in my drive.  Pro tour, look out. 

Interestingly, I don't miss golfing.  I miss making fun of my friends while they golf and laughing hysterically when I hit a tree and the ball almost nails me, resulting in -18 yards for my second drive.  That's the best part.  I try not to partner with over serious rule zealots.  I find most of the rules interesting, but not necessarily applicable to my situation. Note:  I believe this is why is referred to as a "Game".  I really like the "Dick Out" rule and try to enforce it with great diligence. (Rule 43b.  Man hits no further than the front tees;  he is expected to show his willie for the rest of the hole.  Of course, this never happens, but it is uproarious to yell, "DICK OUT!!!  DICK OUT!!!")

I can usually tune out the Chatty Kathys when I golf or at least make a point of telling them to pipe down during my back swing.  One of the highlights of my first tournament was when my partner was looking at the line of my putt while having an argument with her daughter via cell phone.  Unfortunately, I had turned off my super human power of burning laser eyes or I might have enjoyed a spectacular burning flesh pyre.  I just told her to shut up instead. 

My super human power reduced this golf cart to ash one day

My favorite golf game is the Wednesday late afternoon with the Mister.  We intend to play nine holes and have dinner, but at the end of the fifth hole, closest to the bar, we look at each other and say, okay, that was good and head in for a margarita.

And that's how you get good at the game;  with purpose.

I know, the clubs just get bigger all the time

Diversity

There is something magical about four dogs, two cats and four horses.  They all figure it out.  They don't look alike or think alike, but it works.  Now, if there was no food, it might not work, but given they're all domestic, we don't have to interfere.

We had a wonderful dinner with friends tonight.  They have a hunting dog, Labradoodle, the cats and the horses.  We contributed a large Bouvier and their kids showed up with a Chug.  It's a Chihuahua/Pug mix.  We got them together and of course, worried that my Dorkus Doggus would eat everyone, but he didn't.  The usual fang baring and checking pee-mail ensued, but everyone settled down.  The oldest cat was senile and ignored all, which confused the dogs and the biggest dog liked the littlest best and it was all good.  The horses like the littlest dog, too, primarily because she was so small and unafraid.  My ex-horse, Elmer, loved little animals, too.  He would stop on the trail to look at small cowering beasts and would try to lick them occasionally, which once resulted in screaming and running. (The owner, not the dog) .  I once found him with a cat curled up on his back and he had two chickens that would regularly roost in his stall.  He was quite gentle and sweet with them.  Evidently, I wasn't small or hairy enough (go ahead, Mister, insert laughter here).

I think about Elmer occasionally, but don't particularly miss him, except for how funny he could be.  Then I remember how 95% of horse care is work and 5% is actual riding.  Yeah, don't miss the scooping poop part so much and thankfully, a lot of my friends own horses that need to be ridden.  I also remember him every day that I wake up with a completely numb face and sore shoulder. 

I think I'll keep a couple of chickens.

A Much Better Pain Scale

This is a funny post from a funny blog that I read.  I think she is hilarious and her art is good, too.   I have shamelessly plagiarized this just for you. You're welcome, as usual.

I took Boyfriend to the Emergency Room last night because he was vomiting up vast quantities of what I thought was blood but actually it was just Craisins. You guys, if you feel like you may become violently ill in the near future, stay away from red food. Failure to do so may create an atmosphere of unnecessary panic and chaos.

Anyway, the doctor wanted to make sure that Boyfriend didn't have SARS or stomach AIDS or something, so he had to poke him a lot. While he was doing this to Boyfriend, he pointed to a little reference chart on the wall and asked Boyfriend to rate his pain:

You've probably seen some version of that chart before.  You may also have noticed how inadequate it is at helping you.  Based on the faces, this is my interpretation of the chart:

0:  Haha!  I'm not wearing any pants!

2:  Awesome!  Someone just offered me a free hot dog!

4:  Huh.  I never knew that about giraffes.

6:  I'm sorry about your cat, but can we talk about something else now?  I'm bored.

8:  The ice cream I bought barely has any cookie dough chunks in it.  This is not what I expected and I am disappointed.

10:You hurt my feelings and now I'm crying!

 None of that is medically useful and it doesn't even have all the numbers, so I made a better one with all the numbers:

0:  Hi.  I am not experiencing any pain at all.  I don't know why I'm even here.

1:  I am completely unsure whether I am experiencing pain or itching or maybe I just have a bad taste in my mouth.

2:  I probably just need a Band Aid.

3:  This is distressing.  I don't want this to be happening to me at all.

4:  My pain is not fucking around.

5:  Why is this happening to me??

6:  Ow.  Okay, my pain is super legit now.

7:  I see Jesus coming for me and I'm scared.   

8:  I am experiencing a disturbing amount of pain.  I might actually be dying.  Please help.

9:  I am almost definitely dying.

10:  I am actively being mauled by a bear.

11: Blood is going to explode out of my face at any moment.

Too Serious For Numbers:  You probably have Ebola.  It appears that you may also be suffering from Stigmata and/or pinkeye.

Giraffe Neck Bones

Dr. Back Cracker and I did our usual upsy-daisy on the plank and while he was cracking me, he thought to dazzle me with trivia.  He said, "Did you know there are 24 bones in a human back?"  I replied, no, no I did not know that.  He said he remembered because there were 24 hours in a day.  I told him I'm glad he remembered what they taught him at school.  Then he wowed me with the information about there being seven bones in our neck, to which I said, "Because there are seven days a week?"  He didn't say anything, so I said, "You didn't put that together at school?".  (I said this after we were done cracking, because he is rather large and could hurt me if he was mad.)   No, he did not think about it this way.

He thought to throw me yet another bone and asked, "How many neck bones do you think a giraffe has?"  I almost yelled out, "Seven!!!  I know this, seven!!!"  (Oooh, ooooh, pick me!!!!)  I told him that I had just watched Larry the Cable Guy on the History Channel the night before and learned that from him because he was working with the giraffes at the zoo in Nebraska.  Scintillating TV.  Dr. Smarty-Pants then said that all mammals had seven neck bones, except for the sloth;  the sloth has eight.  I told him, "That makes sense.  They're so slow, they're even slow to evolve."  I thought that was a funny line, give the lack of sloth humor in the world.

I could swear that Dr. Crackem looked slightly disgusted as I left.

Let Me Grasp Those While You Hurt Me

Two appointments today; one with Dr. Sam Naficy and one with the chiropractor.  Yes, I am cheating on the man who sewed my nose on.  I won't deny it.  Dr. N told me he thought I wouldn't need further surgery as long as my face was healing well, but I should get cortisone to relieve the large bump (keloid scar) forming under my nose.  He also told me about an Equine Vet he just did surgery on last week who was kicked in the face and had a much more severe injury and that made me feel better, although I'm sure the Vet doesn't feel that way about me.  So that was all very good news until he told me that the shots (SHOTS???  NOT SINGULAR SHOT????) would hurt a bit, but they'd use numbing creme and put some Novocaine in the mix.

Flashy Julie with the very long Latisse induced eyelashes dabbed the numbing creme all over my upper lip and got some on my lower so I really knew it was working and I sat there taking deep breaths and hoping for the best.  Unless you really need it, I don't recommend FIVE shots in your upper lip, even with Novocaine.  It hurts like hell.  The only real redeeming feature of this visit is that he offered to write me a prescription for diamonds.  He was delightful, once the pain was over.

Off I go to QFC and buy a bag of peas for my big lip.  I'm sure the checker thought I just had some injectable done because it was big and bleeding.  Well, damn it, I just did!!!

The chiropractor cracked my back and it feels great, so I know that therapy is working.  The xrays showed compressed discs in my neck and a more than 10% curve in my upper back.  When I look straight on in the mirror, it is obvious that one shoulder is higher and my neck curves to one side.  Because of the degree of degeneration in my neck, we're not so sure that this really didn't occur two years ago due to being bucked off and landing on my head.  So more back cracking, which is just fine.

The Mister emailed me and said that he had just got a cortisone in his hand this morning.  I emailed back, SHUT UP!!  I just got five.  He is suitably impressed, as he should be.

Blue Ribbon

Warming Up

Winning pony, Calypso, gets a kiss for a job well done

Mom and Dad, the now walking ATM for all things horsey

A most excellent day had by young girl, Audrey, winning her first horse show.  We were all proud of her;  over half the audience was her fan base.  It was the highlight of my weekend!

Weiner, Weiner, Weiner

Poor sod;  a name like that.  What did he expect, going into politics?  Dork.  I had no idea there was rehab for inappropriate texting and blogging.  Maybe that will be my next scheduled therapy.  Hopefully it's located somewhere like Hawaii or Tahiti.  I'm sure I can get my doctor to give me a referral so that insurance will cover it.  Perhaps he's claiming psychological trauma, being burdened with a name like that.

Went to a fun brunch today with a great group of girls.  My little cowgirl friend, Audrey, was there and we had a great discussion about her upcoming horse show tomorrow.  She's all ready with her black velvet helmet and boots and is certain that Calypso, the pony, will be just as excited.  She told me that giving the pony treats is key to winning.  An interesting approach, but who am I to argue with an experienced 2 1/2 year old?  I'm going to watch tomorrow and cheer her on. 

Practice and treats, the key.....

I especially like how she puts babies in headlocks when she likes them.  My kind of girl.  I have a picture somewhere of putting a goose in a headlock after he bit my sister.  I'm pretty sure I didn't like him. I was wearing diapers, but he was going down.  My Omi told me that I kept calling him, "crazy chicken!".  She laughed and laughed over that one.  This is the woman who made us sleep with mayonnaise in our hair to grow it long one summer, then got really mad at our mom for cutting it.  She also once relieved herself in a patch of nettles, so it was my turn to laugh and laugh.  Big old burning butt.  That must have really hurt, though.

Mister is off fishing today at Dry Falls, back tomorrow.  I'm sure he's partying at the Soap Lake Businessman's Club, being the card-carrying member he is.  He's quite famous there, next to Norma Zimmer, the Champagne Lady from the Lawrence Welk Show.  Her parents owned the Zimmer Apartments, quite the landmark.  He shares the honor with her of once being the Grand Marshall (Marshalless?) of their eight minute Fourth of July Parade.  Yup, that's my man.

Gus is Mad

Look at this.  This is what Gus does when he is really mad at us.  He picks out one piece of trash, just to show us how very mad he is that we left him alone to sleep on the couch, bed, or, heaven, forbid, floor. Evidently, he barely survived, because one little piece of Kleenex was ripped to shreds in our bathroom.  Oy vey.  Life of a dog is just so very difficult.  OMG, he could have been in the back yard and close to death.

We managed to survive Gus' wrath tonight because it was my first night out in exactly eight weeks.  We did Twilight Golf at Glendale (dinner only) and it was so good to see friends that I haven't seen for a very long time.  We arrived and I had a Bombay Blue Sapphire Martini (yes, Elmer was named after that, my very favorite drink;  but his registered name was Moses' Gin Boy;  did you think Beefeaters was a good name??).

I hung out with my fav guys at the bar and waited for the "golfers" to show up and then we all had dinner and waited for some decent music....and waited....and waited....finally, "Brick House" was played.  I danced, because I had a martini, and it was the only real song to get a groove on.  My man can dance.  I would never have married a non-dancing, over biting, white man.  Ever.

Most people thought I looked pretty good for a kick to the face, and I know I do.  I really appreciate the folks, like John and Randy, who have personal experience and advice on how it feels and what to do.  I know I'll be back in action at some point, but don't know when.  For now, I'm consulting with those who know what to do;  PT, massage, Orthopedic Surgeons, ENTs, etc.  Trust me, I'm all about this.  I'm not golfing or riding, but will be when it is time. I can cook and drive, I.e., VERTIGO IS GONE,  so really, don't need the extra concern at this time.

I'd prefer this would have happened in November, but it is what it is.  It's hard not to ride or garden in good weather.  Going to Mazama this week, but if I don't plan a huge party to re-unite, please don't take offense.  I want to relax, recup, and see a select group of people this time around.  If you must, please pick out a piece of tissue to deal with it. 

Eight Year Old Humor

Mom and I took a great trip to Alaska in '09.  Not a cruise, a real trip.  Plane, train, bus, into Denali Park, plane trip over McKinley.  Grizzly bears, moose, wolves and mosquitoes.  Hikes in the pouring rain.  A few highlights:

Caribou hide Bot fly larva



A whole drawer of poop!!!



Who says the Forest Service doesn't have a sense of humor?



Helpful Mister

Poor Mister.  He is miserable with a potential infection because of diverticulitis.  That sounds really cool, but it isn't a sports injury, so 75% sympathy factor.  He does have a growth on his kidney, so that could up the score, but I'm not holding my breath.

He tried to help me with dinner tonight by splattering grease here and there and then putting the lid off the saute pan downside for more mess, and then cleaning up by using the faucet sprayer full force so that it goes all over the windows and counters.  Bless him, he is a man with no real knowledge of kitchen rules and lore.  His idea of a real meal is a toasted cheese sandwich with yellow mustard and Spam.  Mind you, virtually every pan and dish and knife will be used to make this meal, but it is so worth that effort.



When Men Shop....



He fancies himself a "kitchen" guy.  Okay, I'll give you the investment in Sur La Table way back and getting the big discount, but really, do we need four hundred chip clips, seventeen pasta ladles, three deep fryers for turkeys (none used) three sets of All Clad, twelve casserole dishes (all the same size), and four dozen martini glasses?  This is what happens when Men Shop At Kitchen Stores.  I went with him recently and stopped him from buying yet another $800 knife that he would never even know we owned the day after.  Please, just stick to fishing gear and guns.  I know the Goodwill is so happy to see us every other week because of him...

He told me he was going to go fishing tomorrow, but then some damn lawyers wanted him to sign stuff, so I guess I'll be cooking again and gritting my teeth with happiness......

Dedication

I had a massage yesterday which went very well, primarily because I was propped up on pillows and she did my neck from the side.  If I don't go horizontal, I seem to avoid vertigo, unlike last Thursday.  I haven't been spinning since Sunday AM and mean to keep grounded.  I felt fine this morning, so off I left at 7 AM to get to my PT session is Seattle near Key Arena in plenty of time for my 8 AM appointment.  I drove because the Mister had his own fun with a contrast CT scan.  So, I got there at 8:45 because of a "Motivational Seminar" at the Arena.  Total suckage and I've learned that car trips over 1 hour don't feel good.

What was good is that we couldn't recreate the vertigo and now I need to try to recreate it in order to learn to reset the rocks myself.  So that is my new task;  wake up, turn my head, fall over.  If I spin, repeat five times.  Good times.

My other new task is to try to go to the grocery store and see if I freak out.  Okay, that's enough laughing from the likes of some of youse.  I admit it;  I am a complete and utter failure at the grocery store.  Many a time I will go in with a list like butter, milk, and lettuce and return home with cheese, yogurt and cucumbers.  I don't know why.  I just can't put the two together.  I really don't enjoy shopping, but food isn't really an option so I am going to try to do it.  The real goal of this trip is to find out if the colors and sounds set off my vertigo, which I don't think it will, because the cars on 520 didn't.  Isn't it all very exciting? 

That's the extent of my life right now.  Balance PT, neck massage, shoulder PT, repeat.  Here are some pictures just for fun.





Before we got our teeth fixed

No Napping

An exciting day to be sure.  The Mister took me to Flower World to get some tomato plants, rhubarb and a couple of big hanging plants for the front.  I usually do lots of pots and a garden, but the thought right now is overwhelming, so this will have to do. I had him dig holes then I pointed to where the vegetables should be planted and all that supervising left me exhausted, so of course, it was nap time. 

I had just drifted off when he came in and woke me up.  Normally, this would never happen because he knows better than to suffer the wrath.  This time, he totally did right by me.  Rugby was on TV!!!  I love Rugby;  fell in love with it last year in New Zealand and what's not to love??  The All Blacks with their war chants, the Moo-loos and their pretty jerseys.  Beyond that, this a game of constant action that actually makes sense!  You can move the ball backwards, sideways, fall down with it and run it forward and everybody gets to do it!  Big circular scrums of strength.  There are no big fat defensive tanks and little tiny kickers.  No huge time wasting time outs and play reviews.  Very few players wear protective gear, which is changing, but talk about a good way to get a head injury!  You gotta like that kind of bravery.

Anyway, Dartmouth beat Army for the National Championship and it was great!  Can you believe Central Washington came in third? Amazing.  I have a real team to root for now.

Off to pick up Mom for dinner.  She loves "The Noodle Place" (really named Pho-Thai) but we'll try sushi tonight. Much to my sisters chagrin, she has discovered the "Most Secret Place" (Best Kept Secret) in Kirkland and it is a 1/2 hour walk one way for her.  Fortunately, she can only buy what she can carry.  For someone who just got her first credit card three years ago, she sure knows how to burn it up.  Who cares?  I say, buy it all Mom, full price even. 

Baby Blogging

Nothing to say today, just weird baby pictures.  I don't know any of them and I hope you don't either.

Traveling Vanners

The excitement of my evening is TV tonight.  That's it and pretty much has been for the last six weeks.  So when I find a new program outside of Netflix, it makes me happy.  Thus, we have, "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding".  Talk about a whole subculture that I knew nothing about.  Well, almost.  It's a joke around our household about being given away to the Gypsies.  We tell that to Gus when he occasionally misbehaves.  Doesn't seem to have the impact on him that we hope it does.

My mom was scared spitless as a little girl of the "Gypsies"  that traveled the area around the farm she grew up on in Germany.  The Gypsies would put curses on people, curdle milk, steal valuable items and more frightening, they would steal children, particularly misbehaving children.  Somehow they knew and wanted the most disobedient child they could find.  Gypsies evidently needed a challenge.  What they would do with these vile horrible tykes was never discussed.  It was enough that you could be stolen.

Anyway, I vividly remember being threatened with the Gypsies.  Mind you, I'd never seen any horses and carts lurking around our neighborhood in Bremerton, but somehow, I knew they were just waiting.  Many nightmares about the Gypsies, oh yes.  Thanks for that, Mom.

Anyway, the best part of this program is the Gypsy Vanners.  Magnificent horses with great feathery fetlocks, an absolute nightmare in the great Northwest.  Can you say scratches?  Yuck-  this is what happens when mud is constantly stuck on legs for about 9 months.  The mystery to me is that the Gypsies (now referred to as Travelers) don't use these horses to pull their carts.  Rather, they have large travel trailers and motor homes.  Granted, this is the first episode I've seen, but where do the horses fit in?  How do you have a horse when you constantly travel?  Stay tuned, I aim to find out.

Captain Underpants

A generally fine day, overall, in the health department.  Because I've been sleeping fairly upright which consists of two pillows, a neck pillow and a large pillow propped on my left side, I think the vertigo has somewhat subsided.  I am able to do my 20 minutes of PT twice a day fairly well, but it is taxing.  You try this-  grab a sofa cushion, stand on it, toe to heel and close your eyes for 30 seconds.  Yeah, not so easy, right?

The other PT for my shoulder was good, too, he was amazed at how well I'd improved, so he thought we'd celebrate by hooking my shoulder to battery cables and jolting them while icing the whole bloody package.  What kind of a recovery plan is that?  So now I'm all sore and will consider 1/2 pain pill before long.  Washed down with a glass of Prosecco, so there.  Hey SAV, did you know Prosecco is only 20 calories per glass, so you can down a bottle, guilt free!!  A little shout out to my peep, you're welcome.

I got the coolest gift today from my pal, Kirsten.  She also made me a meatloaf, which is awesome, because I was wondering what I'd have to do for dinner the next couple of nights with the Colonel gone and now I have it!!!  Anyway, the coolest gift is: 

Yup, a real underwear hat.  I don't have to wear the Mister's underwear anymore when I go out.  It's so cool to have friends who know what I really like.

More underwear wearing pictures: 

Yes, it is Gus, wearing a shirt because I made the mistake of having him shorn in April when it still was 30 degrees and he is wearing the Mister's underwear because it was 30 degrees and I was bored.  He seemed to like it, but he doesn't like them on his head so much.

Do you know that I once registered and paid for the website domain, http://www.bigunderwear.com/ for a year? 

I did. Way back when Al Gore invented the internet. 

And Then There Was None

Bittersweet day today.  Cody went to summer camp to show young girls how to ride until August 1.  It's really a good thing because now she'll be what all animals (and people) should be:  respected and useful. 

I'll miss her because she is so sweet, although she talks alot.  Every morning, you'd think she had just seen and done the most exciting things the night before.  She hears the back door open and wakes the whole neighborhood with her, "Well, there you are, finally!!!!" Then she darts into the barn and bosses me about while I gather her hay and EVERY TIME I have to tell her to get her big head out of the way so I can give it to her already.  The whole while, "I saw this, I saw that, don't you want to give me grain, what about carrots, I know there are peppermints, way more grass, thank you, where have you been, it's already 6 AM, blah, blah, blah...." Jeez, give me a headache, all that blathering.  And then there is the other gray, just sitting there in the way, waiting for his carrots.  So it's weird not seeing her out there, but I'm very happy she'll be ridden and used.



She's still talking....with her mouth full, even.



I did my full range of PT exercises today, some for balance, some for shoulder/neck.  I'm definitely feeling it, but at least I'm not nauseous.  I've got a real medical massage scheduled for Friday and that will be exciting.  In the meantime, these Heat Wrap doohickeys feel pretty good.

I've been sending out pictures of myself through the FatApp tonight.  The Mister is having dinner with his boyfriends so I'm taking pictures of myself and trying to make them really fat by distorting my eyes and chin.  Stu da Phew showed me that trick.  It's way cool.