In Which Woolly Tights Save the Day

I just read a blog of a very funny woman.  I've been stalking it and commenting occasionally, so it isn't true stalking.  She lives outside London with her partner and two kids and she is totally British in her humor.  She relayed a story of being in nursery school and so adamant about not decorating the tree that she stayed in a corner and peed herself.  This reminded me of one of my pee stories.  Yes, there are more.

I can remember a few events in kindergarten that stand out, mostly, because I got in trouble.  The first time was when I locked my sister in the play oven.  The second time was when I was unable to nap on my rug with the rest of the class, so I took off my shoes and slid across the floor in my socks.  I suppose this kept the others from sleeping, so I was back in the corner, again.  The third time isn't memorable because I got in trouble, but more of a close one.

We would have music sessions occasionally and one day, Mr. Guitar Man came to play.  I remember having to pee and waiting until a song was finished.  Then I really had to pee and just as I raised my hand, Mr. Guitar Man asked for a volunteer.  He called on me and I was confused.  Should I say no, I have to pee, or should I go up with him, because it was so dang special to be with Mr. GM.  I went up front thinking I could hold on.  Mr GM wanted me to hold his guitar while he played an accordion. How cool is that?  I panicked because I didn't think I could hold it but  I nonchalantly placed the guitar in front of me and slowly let go.  It was such a relief, I just didn't care.  My little red woolly tights filled with moisture and spilled into my shoes and onto the floor, but I didn't move.  When the pumping of the accordion was over, he took the guitar back and I carefully sat down in my wee (pun intended) chair.  Just then, Mr. Guitar/Accordion Man, noticed the small puddle on the floor.  He told Mrs. Weldon, my teacher, and they spent time looking at the ceiling tiles.  She had one of my classmates clean up the "water" and it was a boy I didn't like, so I laughed a little. 

Sitting in a pool of one's own pee is not comfortable.  I remember being cold and thinking maybe I could take off the sodden tights, but I knew that everyone would know what I did, so I just suffered.  Fortunately, we didn't do anything more that day requiring much action.  The two blocks walking home was terrible and I quickly changed my clothes.  My mom never noticed anything, so I figured I was safe.

The next day, a janitor came into our classroom and got up a a huge ladder to check the ceiling.  He was there for a long time and then left.  We next heard someone on the roof (in the pouring rain) for some time.  I don't remember what resulted, but I was so glad that nobody knew it was me, the real reason for the ceiling leak.

Years later, I relayed the story to my friends and family and still marvel at how nobody realized I was a big pee puddle in kindergarten.  I think it explains my preference to wear woolly tights when presented with unfamiliar social situations.

I Got Me Some Culture

So, back to the face, which is what this blog is all about.  I went back to Dr. Flip-Flop and whined some more.  He showed me the MRI of my brain which indicated (in his words), that it is "stone cold normal".  He pointed out some calcium in an artery, again normal, and showed me the spot where MS is diagnosed.  He told me if I had white sprinkles in the area, it would indicate the disease.  Again, stone cold normal. 

Okay, normal is not my face pain.  I am operating on a 7 out of 10 most days and it is difficult to go outside because I know I will be on fire.  He was most understanding and said that there is another option before I try yet another drug.  He ordered 20 mg of Paxil in addition to the 400 mg of Lyrica.  I must of looked skeptical because he said, "I know, you're not depressed, but sometimes these drugs interact and can really help.  It's worth a try for a month."

The pain subsides some when I can be engaged in doing something I need to concentrate on, like golfing, carting or a good book. So, I try to stay as busy as I can, which is why I agreed to see the musical play, "Pippin" and then the Nutcracker.  The play was three days after my new med cocktail and I felt pretty good sitting through the two hour performance.  I got home late, but fell asleep easily.  The next day, I took my niece, Leah, to see the Nutcracker.  My sister had learned the hard way that the concession didn't open for the schoolkids' attendance.  Not even beverages, but there were drinking fountains.  Okay, I can go three hours without water. (You couldn't pay me enough to drink anywhere those germ laden midgets might have been.)

Lily had packed snacks for us, so I figured that although it was noon and I had a good breakfast, I could nibble and be okay without water.  Yeah, until I saw what she packed;  chips, crackers, and beef jerky.  Why didn't she just throw in a salt shaker, too?  But, surprisingly, this was okay and all was well.  The performance began and even though there were lots of "shhhh"ing going on by parents, coughing, sneezing, loud crying and general uninterest by mostly male children, I enjoyed the show.  I only glared at the boy kicking my seat once and decided to ignore him and his snotty nosed brother.  I wondered at all of this.  Then I realized that my face didn't hurt, much.  Probably a 4 out of 10.  Remarkable.  Less pain and more tolerance.  I like this new med mix, yes, I do.  I had no desire to yell, "Shut up, you Fucktard" to the more boisterous and I even ate some crackers.

What was really telling was my calm while driving in the Mercer mess on the way home.  I was polite, letting cars merge and not inwardly fuming at the delays.  Normally, I would be yelling, "Go, you Pigfuckers!", but I didn't.  Of course, having one's nine year old niece in the car is somewhat preventative, but really, I just grooved with the flow.

So today was the real test.  I went  to see my friends' horse and spend time with her in the freezing could for about 2 hours.  No pain!!!!  I can't believe it!  It's quite a relief.

I'm thinking about lobbying for Paxil in our nation's water supply.

Merry Crapping Christmas

I can't believe that this picture turned out.  We went to the Woodmark Hotel to see Santa Paws and donate to the Seattle King County Humane Society.  Thank God Lorie came along to handle Lucky because every one of these beasts were out of control.  My Mom was to meet us there at 11 AM.

I sewed reindeer antlers covered with lights on their halters and they did fine with them.  I assumed they would poop in the trailer on the way, so inside, it wouldn't be an issue.  We trotted in and saw some friends who had brought their puppies for the pictures.  The Mister was handling DogGus while he tried to lunge and play while dragging his dad all around.  I led Trusty to registration where he was mobbed and some parents tried to set their kids on him.  We gently discouraged that and while I filled out paperwork, Trusty was busy rooting around under the table and low and behold, started crunching on an apple that someone had left.  As I ran to get towels to clean up his slobber, Lucky looked like he was going to pee.  Nope, he just lifted his tail and shot out some milkduds. I grabbed a bag and quickly sponged up the balls;  "It's just grass, people, just grass."  Gus is barking at the puppies and Trusty is just chomping and drooling away. If you look closely, you can see the towel under Santa's feet.  I forgot it.

So we were waiting for my mom to show up and I thought we'd take them outside a bit.  Trusty refused to go out the door because he now had to shoot some malt balls.  Grabbed some bags and took care of that.  I figured all was good and we went back into the library area.  People were taking pictures, so we posed for a bit and then Lucky shot some more out.  Did I mention that he was a total fool with Lorie, biting her and trying to rear?  He is a trouble maker, that one.  I cleaned up one more time and then Ron, the Banquet Manager introduced himself to me.  I assumed he wanted a picture, but no, he told me, "I love livestock, I really do, but I have weddings here later and it's starting to smell like a barn."  Translation, "Get out."  So we packed up and trudged up the hill and met my mom and brother coming towards us.  She said they stopped for coffee for him and that they were going to Kidd Valley for lunch.  So much for meeting me there for a picture at 11 AM.

I was exhausted when we got home and took a long nap.  Total clusterf**k.

Thanksgiving Eve

I made an appointment with Dr. Flip-Flop, the Neurosuergon who is unfashionably concious.  My face has been acting up, especially in the upper gums where it feels as though razor blades are slicing.

I told him my current dose of Lyrica (now 400 mg) and he said that we needed to add a boost and order a MRI because things should be quieting down, not acting up.

He gave me a muscle relaxer of sorts that I am supposed to take once a day for a week, then twice and day and up to three times a day.  I took half and took a very long nap.  That shit is powerful!  It works really well because I just sleep through the pain.  I need to work with it a bit more, I think.

MRI on Friday, I'm pretty sure they'll see a sinus infection, as usual.

Well, I'm thankful for the drugs and the technology and all the food I've made for T-giving.

Can We Pretend That Didn't Happen?

I had the perfect day planned today.  I slept in while the Mister fed the boys and had a nice breakfast while reading the paper.  I put the hairy beasts out on some grass and shaved my legs.  Of course, this took some time because this is the season to hair up, so the mowing was tough.  The only reason I would ever attempt this is because I had a massage scheduled.  Followed by a facial.

Aaaahh, bliss.  Day at the Spa.  Warm table, low lights, vague whale like soothing music and such.  Fortunately, I had the same therapist (is that what they're called?  I don't know) for both treatments and didn't have to do the whole, my-face-is-kinda-tender-yes-I-know-and-okay-here-is-the-story-one-more-frickin'-time spiel.  Such a warm, soothing, professional manner.  I enjoy it when they don't talk too much and she was just right.

I settle in and the Professional is gently massaging nicely.  All is well until she does the elbow to the buttocks move.  I will myself to try to relax, but really, how can you do that when a pointy bone is jabbing your butt?  Looking back, I realize that I must have been clenching my butt during this move, so really, the intake of excess air is her fault.  She moves on, thank God, and the remaining rub about is wonderful. 

I am now ready for the facial.  I have my face covered with warm towels and enjoy several applications of sheep placenta and weasel urine guaranteed to make my scars instantly disappear.  I'm pretty sure that the Professional gets a commission on this stuff.  Anyway, she is massaging away and I hear this loud wet ripping noise.  She startles at the same time that I realize that this sound is coming from me!!!  I mean really, how does this happen that I don't know that I need to fart?  It was so loud that my Whoopee Cushion was a whisper in comparison.  It reminded me of my mom when she does the fart walk.  You know the one, every second step she just crashed them out and pretends that nobody's ears are ringing.  OMG!!!  I'm turning into my mom!!!  All this flies through my mind during the The Silence of at least five seconds (even the crooning whales stopped in astonishment).  I knew she heard me, so I just said, "Um, can we pretend that didn't happen?"  She continued rubbing some grasshopper guts on my cheeks and said, "You'd be surprised how often that happens."  I think we were both glad that there was a blanket covering me.  Then, for some reason, I thought of my friend who was riding her horse when she suddenly farted, the noise being amplified and spooking the horse!  I started laughing uncontrollably and the Professional stopped, certain that I was a lunatic.  I couldn't explain how funny it is to scare a horse with a fart, so I just said, "Wow, and here I thought you had a glamorous job."  I mean, really, how dumb is that?  But it was the best I could do to explain my hysteria.  I did for a second think, I could just get up and run, but then I remembered I was butt assed (or is it buck assed?  I don't really know) naked and how would that look?

Thankfully, she places cotton balls over my eyes and says she'll step out while the mask does magic.

I know what she is really doing.  She is hoping I'm fluffing the blanket and that there is no brown spot for her to see when I leave.  That and she is telling her coworkers what happened.

I swear there was a "knowing" look passed between the girls up front when I was leaving.  Yes, henceforth, it shall be noted on my permanent record that I am a "Farter".  I'll get the lamest therapist from now on because who would want to be in the room with me?  I sure wouldn't.

Turds Don't Clean Themselves, You Know

I frequent my local Bridle Trails shopping area because it's good to buy local and I know mostly friendly people who work there.  I like all the people at the Red Apple and love the pharmacist, Dennis, at Bartells.  The postmistress, Anna, there is very funny and Shelby, the pharmacy cashier, is quite nice, too.  Then there is Fat Sally.  She frightens me because she is big and loud.  If her voice were written, it would be all caps.  Me:  "Hi, Sally, how are you?"  F.S.:  "ME?  WELL I'M PRETTY GOOD, GOSHDARN IT ALL, THANKS FOR ASKING!!!!!", as I hold my ear closest to her and run.  Her voice echoes throughout the store and she talks to everyone at earsplitting volume. "SAY, THAT'S A REAL GOOD DEAL ON THAT HEMORRHOID CREAM, HUH?  WAY TO STOCK UP AND BE SMART!!"

Yesterday, I took the horse boys for a walk and decided to walk all the way to the store.  I made it to the first door of the Red Apple and was mobbed by mostly the checkers, who brought apples and carrots.  Kids, old people and curious dogs kept us with tons of questions and petting.  I started to worry a bit, because the boys hadn't pooped for some time.  I walked down the sidewalk outside Bartells, the automatic door opened and Fat Sally saw me and bellowed out the door, "HEY THERE!  WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!!!  WAIT, LET ME CALL EVERYBODY!!!!"  As I kept, walking, copious amounts of milkduds squirted from Lucky.  I panicked and dragged them quicker as Trusty dumped a pile outside of Ace Hardware.  OMG!!  Quick, before anybody sees, because of course, I'll just nonchalantly stroll off and no one would expect it came from the two miniature horses walking by.  Just as Trusty finishes, I hear F.S. scream, "HEY GIRL!!!  THEM HORSES DUMPED OUT HERE!  WHERE YOU GOING????!!!"  I managed to get them in a trot and we hightailed it home.

Yes, I could have gone back to Red Apple and grabbed produce bags, but I didn't think of that until half way home.  Instead, I threw them in their paddock, grabbed a broom, dustpan and plastic bags and drove back.  The poop outside of Bartells was gone. The huge pile outside of Ace remained, apparently unnoticed by all.  I quickly swept it up and walked into Bartells with my tools and the bag.  F.S. was at the cash register and I meekly said, "I'm so sorry, I didn't have anything to clean that up, and I see someone else did."  "YEAH, THE GUY FROM OUT BACK CAME UP AND SAID, "HOW CAN SHE WALK AROUND AND LET THEM DO THAT AND EXPECT EVERYBODY TO NOT MIND?"  BOY, HE WAS MAD, I'M TELLING YOU AND HERE YOU ARE NOW, DON'T BE THINKING WE'LL TAKE THAT MESS, TOO."  Okay, I was just a bit taken aback and confused until I realized she thought I was bringing in Trusty's poop for her to take.  "No, this was outside of Ace, I just cleaned it up and was going to get the rest of it."    "WELL, I'LL TELL HIM YOU CAME BACK THEN AND I HOPE HE WON'T BE MAD, YOU KNOW SAYING SORRY DIDN'T GET THEM TURDS CLEANED UP." 

I don't know if I'll ever go there again. 

Momisms

I like hanging out with my Mom.  We mostly go to doctor and dentist appointments with the occasional hairdresser thrown in.  She prefers the stylist at her assisted living facility because she's cheap, but she really does get what she pays for.  Anyway, she's happy and could be healthier but I'm thinking that's a lost cause because she loves to eat.  She does make unusual observations sometimes, so I always have those to enjoy on our outings.

It struck me funny today when she was telling me a story about a woman in her house that insisted that her husband was home and she could call him.  He was in Italy, but she was firmly convinced he was right around the corner.  Now, that kind of dementia isn't funny, but I reminded Mom on how adamant she is when she tells me that Sears is out of business.  She has told me this at least three times, even after we have physically been there within the last two months.  I said to her today, "Mom, remember that fleece vest from Lands End?"  "Oh, yes, I will wear it this winter and for the rest of my life.."  "Well, Lands End is at Sears."  Big pause....."But it's not on Aurora Avenue."  I don't think this signifies that my mom has dementia, just fairly well set in her opinions and will not be swayed.

One of her lifelong sayings is often repeated between my sister and me.  When she finds a high priced item, like a piece of furniture or a coat, she always says, "I will own this for the rest of my life."  Really?  That's the justification?  I think it's what hoarders say.  Fortunately, she doesn't hoard.

She likes to walk to Starbucks and enjoy a coffee.  It took me the longest time to figure out that she orders a latte, because she claims that she like the "lotty" the best.  Evidently, the baristas are trained in literal German translations.

We were discussing her upcoming annual physical and recent blood glucose test.  I told her that one of Denny's doctors had said that one of the most common side effects of one of her meds was weight gain and we should discuss it with her doctor.  While at breakfast, she ordered pumpkin pancakes with whipped cream.  I gently asked if this was a good choice for her diet.  She indignantly told me that I had just told her it was the pills that made her fat, so she was going to stop taking them today, so it wouldn't matter what she ate.  Alrighty then.

One of our favorite places to shop (although now she's a tad large), is The Best Kept Secret, a sample store in Kirkland.  We've been there at least a dozen times, yet the name is illusive.  When I ask her where she'd like to go (besides the closed Sears store) she has a variety of replies:  The Most Best Place, The Secret Store, The Super Secret, or the Best Store. I believe the concept of keeping secrets, especially one of the best, is a hugely foreign concept.  I know this based on all the "secrets" that she has been told by her fellow residents.

And that is fodder for another blog post.

I Fart When I'm Happy

Still floating on green waters, I am.  The Z-Pac didn't work and I'm still coughing and gagging.  My primary doctor prescribed Augementin and Advair for a month.  A month!!!  Something about not wanting it to turn into pneumonia, blah, blah, blah.  Also, I went to see my Plastic Surgeon who stuck a cool lighted scope up my nose and pronounced no deviation of septum, your scars aren't that bad, come back when you're wrinkly and jowly.  Really!  That's what he said.  Such a smooth bedside manner;  that's why see him.

And then last week.  What an amazing time I had with my Ho's at the Hood Canal.  I know that the fact that they are the most technologically challenged women I've ever met should drive me crazy, but this actually worked in my favor.  So much in my favor.  First, if they put their phone down, I would secretly take pictures of myself making faces.  Second, I posted things on Facebook with their phones, so that readers would think they are crazy.  My favorite post was, "I fart when I'm happy."  She had no clue, but boy did her friends respond.  I kept sneaking looks at her profile and then the whole gag was discovered when her husband called her from Italy and said, "WTF?  You should watch where you leave your phone."

To my greater amusement, I watched them try to take the post down.

I don't think they've looked at their pictures either. 

Green Waters

We did SE Alaska.  Ketchikan to Juneau which was really modern AK.  It was everything I expected and then some.  Way big and disgusting Disney and Norwegian ships in port, next to our little cruiser servicing 56.

We didn't see any other boats for at least five out of seven days.  The company of salmon, otters, seals, bears, eagles, moose and humpback whales was so worth it.  We counted 21 blow holes spouting at one sitting and that was the highlight.  Whales as sunset and tails flipping everywhere;  a truly amazing sight.  The glacier calving was cool, too, but expected and cold.  I also learned to paddle board and I'd like to do that some more.

I came back with a cold, which I suspect is an ongoing sinus infection.  My nose is constantly stuffed, I'm coughing green (I know, isn't that a lovely thought?) and my face hurts.  Not that my face doesn't always hurt, but it does. 

I believe one of the continuing side effects of Lyrica is memory loss, as evidenced by neglecting to fill the RX prior to leaving.  I thought that I could get by until refill, missing about two doses.  Boy, was that ever stupid.  Freezing burning face is almost as bad as burning pee face, which is code for a bad bladder infection.  Not that I've had those in a long time, knock on woodage, but every woman I know can relate.

So anyway...super happy to have seen wildlife in the wild and enjoyed the company of the Mister, but as usual, way too short.

I shall swallow some Mucinex and hope for the best.

Okay.....Bye

It is sad when creatures die.  Kathi Goertzen died today, well known in the area and not totally unexpected, but still very sad.

My sister related a story about a friend of hers that nearly died recently.  She went to the doctor, not feeling well, and the nurse looked at her and said, "You should go to the hospital."  (This is where it gets fuzzy for me;  you're obviously so sick as to be hospitalized, but no ambulance is called??)  Nonetheless, she drives herself to the ER and passes out, suffering a heart attack.  Now, all of this is very worrisome and concerning, as near death should be, but what I find fascinating and a bit comforting is....she saw a light and her deceased mother beckoning her...before she was brought back by the paddles.

That's kinda reassuring, don't you think?  I mean, we've all read about it, but to actually know someone of sound mind and somewhat sound body to relate this experience is quite comforting.

I just hope that my light and beckoning creature is my last dog, or favorite horse or a good friend holding out a margarita.  How cool would that be?

Here's to Kathi and a ice cold margarita at the finish line.

Things I Intensely Dislike Today

1.  DogGus' eye buggers
2.  DogGus' drool when we're eating
3.  That woozy dried out ear plugged feeling when you have a cold
4.  The chapped under the nose part from blowing your nose so much when you have a cold
5.  Trusty's eye buggers
6.  Lucky's inability to hold his male member part from almost dragging the ground and causing great embarrassment to me when he is in front of pubescent children (otherwise annoying because he is just showing off)
7.  Barely 60 degrees on July 30
8.  Weeds in the driveway
9.  Weeds in the lawn
10.  Weed in general

Bah humbug

Lots of Fun

I just realized that my last post was a lame post, so I will attempt to write a sound post.  In the world of horses, you want soundness, not lameness, so let it be done.

Update to my face:  Lyrica seems to take the edge off and the only side effect is that I now officially need reading glasses.  Okay, that could be my age, but I'm blaming the drugs.  The down side is that my insurance will not pay for the drugs even though my doctor wrote and explained that I couldn't take what they preferred.  So I try to think of it as a boarding bill.  $300 a month is cheap board.  See, it all gets back to horses.

And about those horses:  Trusty and I are having a most delightful time at Camp Korey each week.  We have entertained masses of children and adults by simply showing up and eating grass.  Everyone wins at this event.  We've talked with those having severe cleft palates, recent organ transplants and bone disorders.  Last week, an eight year old Chinese girl in a wheelchair and her sister enthralled Trusty.  He walked up to her and put his head in her lap while she stroked him and told me that she and her sibling had been adopted, just like my niece, Leah.  She wanted to see him jump, but there weren't any small logs or poles around, and besides, he is so fat now that he couldn't do it.  One young lady with a very short torso had a super cool wheelchair that would lower to the ground so she could be even with his head.  He was amazed with that and sniffed her and the chair all over, much to her delight.  What I really see is how unselfconcious these kids are and how accepting they are of each other.  I'm sure it's a relief to be able to just be a kid and forget about their issues.  Kinda teaches you to live in the moment as well.  I'm pretty sure that I'm learning more than they are this summer.

We are now in Mazama where the grass is somewhat brown, thankfully.  It's been nice not to get up at 7 AM every morning to feed.  They just eat, eat, eat and poop, poop, poop, then sleep.  Repeat.
I have been a tad nervous with the lone coyote skulking about, but so far so good with the boys out all night.  We saw him in the field next door a couple days ago, heard him singing with his buddies down valley a couple nights ago and Lily scared him up today on a walk in the Avalanche Lots.  (an aside.....these are the lots a couple acres down up against Lucky Jim Bluff.  Some suave developer thought that these six long skinny five acre parcels would sell like hotcakes.  I'm not so sure that the incredibly large boulders that roll from the sheer granite cliffs every year to rest in someone's future home site are really a plus.  Thus the name, Avalanche Lots.  You're welcome.)

So now the world as I know it is at rest.  Another week of golf, walks, carting, reading, racing the Ranger recklessly down the road and power napping shall commence.

Go, You Vole!

Things said after 19 years of marriage and not much left to say.  While driving;  "Careful, careful, Captain Safety, don't drive so fast."  "Go, you pig f****er!", and two favorites, courtesy of my deceased father, "Sons a bitches!" and "Creeping Jesus!".  I don't know what that last one really means, but that's what he would say.

Other nonsensical sayings pertaining to us would be:  "Toe, Ally, Vole".   What does THAT mean?  You may well ask.  The Mister lost his hearing a few years ago thanks to performing in bands and gunfire in Vietnam.  He told me once (well, more than once), "I love you".  I told him, "I love you, though."  He thought I said, "I love your toe", which is a bit confusing, because I really don't love his toes, so why would I say that?  Anyway, "Toe" is code for, "I love you".  Oh, so very sweet.

Once, he said, "I love most about you", to which I replied, "I love almost all about you", which means, "Ally".  Are you sick now?  You should be.

Then, the topper.  We watched a documentary about animals that mate for life.  Must have been a very slow night.  We found out that Voles mate for life.  Hence, "Toe, Ally, Vole." 

Now you know.

My Vet and My Dentist Should Meet

DogGus went to the Vet yesterday because he needed some booster shots, I wanted to weigh him and his mouth is stinky.  I suspect his lovely odor is a result of raw food congealing about his lips and rotting there.  Hence, the cloud of dead ass that surrounds him.

He gets oh so nervous at the Vet's office and tries to sit in my lap by crawling over from the neighboring seat.  It is rather silly and embarrassing for all.  The techs pretend to like him, but really, who likes butt mouth?  Yes, it is that bad.

We get him on the scale and he is a whopping 120 lbs.  I believe he is in competition with the Wiener Horses for the most weight gained in a month.

We wait for the doctor, who is new, as usual, and when he walks in and introduces himself, I think, "Wow, is Gus' breath so bad, this guy will think I'm a terrible owner!"  The vet leans over to pet DogGus and talk to him and then I realize that I smell extreme garlic and rotting venison all at the same time.  Oh dear Lord.  It is so bad I think I might gag.  The vet steps away, Thank God, and goes over his medical record and notes that Gus is fat.  He needs to lose weight.  All this time I considered him fluffy, but no, he is not.  Okay, he is on a  reduced rotting meat diet now.

He examines him and discovers a broken tooth.  A gleam comes into his eye as he explains the various dental procedures we might try.  Here are the suggestions:
1.  Let's file it down and put a sealant on it.
2.  Let's xray it and then pull it.
3.  Let's xray it and then do a root canal.
4.  Let's do a crown.

WTF?  How about, let's do nothing?  Geez, is he dying?  Is he in pain?  I know his breath stinks like yours, but you don't have pearly whites, either.  Maybe he doesn't smell it.  I politely point out that the hair around his lips is matted with decaying food and slobber, but he doesn't seem to think anything of it.  Can a vet be any good if he can't smell rotting flesh? 

I ask for an estimate to clean his teeth and decide that perhaps my regular dentist could do it cheaper.  $568????  Again, WTF.

DogGus is at the Groomers today to have the stench removed.  I think I will anonymously mail my dentists' card to the Vet.

Dr. Flip-Flop, the Fashion Faux Pas

The Colonel and I went to see a new Neurosurgeon yesterday to discuss further options for my face.  While waiting, a former coworker of his walked in and we discussed options for her foot.  She has neuropathy, which doesn't result from being stepped on by a horse, I discovered. 

We wait and he comes in, wearing his official white coat and bolo tie with huge silver rodeo belt buckle.  Okay, I like cowboy doctors, like anyone else, but he really threw me off;  he was wearing socks and flip flops.  Not special socks with flips flops.  Dress black socks with the toe all stretched and squished around the flipper part of the flip flop.

Very disturbing, but he explained he was originally from Sante Fe.  Still, doesn't explain the footwear.

He quite enjoyed my MRI and happily pointed out to the Colonel (first time seeing it) that my face was indeed shattered and kept zooming in and out on my nose.  A faint shadow on the screen, fast mouseroll, then BAM!  Nose in seven pieces.  Great entertainment.  I discovered later that the Colonel wasn't even watching because he was trying to decipher what the conch on his bolo tie said.  (The one that spelled out his last name).

The good news is that I don't have dementia.  He put me through the tests of repeating cabbage, table, baseball, dog, Chevrolet, rose, blue, and belt, several time during the exam.   I missed two on the first go around.  It's interesting to me that I pictured these items grouped on the table (except for the dog and car and the table was blue, duh).  The Colonel later said that he pictured the actual words.  That was the most exciting part of the whole exam and then we talked treatment and prognosis.

He said he believed my nerves would regenerate to a point, but probably not my upper gum line.  I believe numbness is preferably to pain, so I'm okay with that.  Since I had a rash reaction to the common nerve drug, he gave me a bottle of Lyrica to try.  I carefully grilled him on side effects, to which he said, "It will make you tired at first, you'll get used to it, if the small dose isn't enough after a week, up it and check for a rash.  The good news is that unless you intend to get falling down drunk every day, it won't interfere with alcohol."  That lead me to wonder if he thought I was planning on hitting the bar for lunch and just had that look of a desperate alcoholic.  He also said that I should try a low dose of capsaicin, which I could find in a drug store.  You dip a Qtip and speck the pain and then THROW IT AWAY.  He said DON'T TOUCH IT WITH YOUR BARE HANDS OR YOU WILL DIE WHEN YOU TOUCH YOUR EYE OR GENITALS.  Okay, okay, Dr. Sock Flop, I get it!!!  Geez, simmer down already.  Fortunately, he didn't say about not touching other peoples' eyes or genitals, so we'll just have that little experience later.  Stay tuned.

Of course, in furthering my Google MD training, I swiftly found out that Lyrica causes tiredness, dizziness, dry mouth, memory loss, weight gain and painful genitals (only if you touch yourself after use).  I duly took it after dinner and boy howdy, better than Benadryl.  I am a bit woozy this morning, but still know how to use spell check, so it's all good.  My face did feel somewhat better, even with the weather change, so that's a plus.  Once again, stay tuned.

Just to Fill the Blog

Welcome! Please wait while we contact the next available Marriott Vacation Specialist...All agents are currently busy. Please stand by.

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Hi! My name is Charlotte. How may I help you?

Customer:  Hi there- I believe I booked ten days at the Really Cool Resort in 2013 and would like confirmation, please. I used xx points.

Charlotte:  okay give me a few minutes.

Charlotte:  Do you have a confirmation number>

Charlotte:  ?

Customer:  No, I tried to trace the transaction history because it gave me an error, that's why I'm contacting you.

Charlotte:  When were you trying to book it?

Charlotte:  and what date were you booking it for?

Customer:  Within the last hour. I placed a hold and then confirmed within fifteen minutes. Date was approximately xxxx, although we're flexible for the three bedroom villa.

Charlotte:  let me take a look just a moment.

Charlotte:  I am not seeing the reservation if you didn't get a confirmation # and error then it didn't go through.

Customer:  Can you book it for me or do I have to do it again?

Charlotte:  What property were you doing it for?

Customer:  The Really Cool Resort in Hawaii. Oh please oh please oh please. :)

Charlotte:  since you asked nicely with a smiley face give me a minute 10 nights right?

Customer:  Okay, I'll wait here.

Charlotte:  I have a Island view starting on xxx for 10 nights for 2 bedroom for xx vacation club points.

Customer:  Any three bedrooms regardless of dates around then? Island view is fine, thank you.

Charlotte:  I have a 3 bedroom island view for xx would you like me to book it?

Customer:  YES!!

Charlotte:  okay give me a moment.

Charlotte:  I booked you in a 3 bedroom island view room for xx vacation club points. xxx, 2013- xxx, 2013 for xxx vacation club points. Conformation # .xxx if you need to cancel or change the reservation make sure you do it 60 days prior from the reservation. I'll be sending you an e-mail conformation to none of your business.com.

Customer:  Oh, oh, oh. May your web be full of flies and not all your friends be pigs. sorry, i had to say it.

Charlotte:  haha made me laugh glad I can make your evening.

Customer:  You're the best! Thanks, girl!!

Wedded Piss (I Mean, Bliss)

Ahhh, June.  The month of weddings.  I've been thinking about weddings because I like to watch the series, "Big Fat American Gypsy Weddings".  Fascinating.  Young girls dressing and behaving like skanks, yet taught not to kiss any boy but their husband at around age 16.  Cartoonish wedding dresses and much drama.  Good times.

My own betrothal began on a camping trip with the family.  It was fun staying in the camper, but because it was cold out and I didn't want to go to the facilities across the way in the middle of the night, I decided to pee in a cup.  Yes, that is what I did and poured it down the sink then went back to bed.  In the morning, I woke to find the Colonel drinking out of said cup.  Slightly horrified, I told him what had been in the cup prior to his lips.  He wasn't even slightly amused.  However, we were still engaged and proceeded to tell the family at the reunion later that day.  Celebrate.

Following this theme a bit, on the day of our actual wedding, we dressed in our finery at the then Columbia Tower Club.  Slightly nervous and right before the ceremony, I ran into the ladies room and promptly peed on my bustle/train/bow thing that hung off my dress.  Fortunately, it was made of chiffon, so I scrubbed it in the sink and tried to wring it out and pat it dry.  My dad and uncle were waiting for me so I ran out and said, "I just peed on my train."  We have a great picture of all of us coming down the aisle laughing hysterically. My bustle/train/bow thing dried at the altar. Again, good times.

See the common thread?  Weddings and all that are just so exciting that one must express themselves.

Pasture Play

It hasn't been that long, but I guess a few people read these ramblings and I don't want to disappoint, no I do not.

The Colonel and I along with the three useless animals are residing in Mazama for the next few weeks.  And in case a would-be burglar is reading this, the alarm is on and we rigged poisoned darts to stab you if you approach within three feet of the barn.  My hay and grain must be safe, at any cost.

So the little ones arrived and tumbled out of the trailer with bewildered blinking eyes.  I led them to their heavenly pasture which confused them even more.  They stood looking at each other and walked a few steps and rolled crazily.  If they knew how to stick their tongues out at the same time, I'd swear they had rabies.  Jump up, eat grass, Lucky jumps all four hooves off the ground and proceeds to rodeo.  I was laughing at him, when Trusty, the ever controlled, staid horse, walked up to me and nosed me in the butt, saying, "Are you seeing this?  Are you letting him get away with such unbecoming behavior?"  Really, you could see it on his face.  Since I just stood there, he had to run after him and attempt to bite him into submission.  Lucky just ran and kicked some more, so Trusty joined in.  It's the first time I've ever seen him gallop.

A couple days of bliss and now they are being hitched up to the carts.  DogGus made sure they both knew that he was in charge by barking loudly in their faces and running.  He only did that because he knew they couldn't chase him while harnessed.  The Colonel was praying that nobody we knew would see him and luckily for me, his hunting buddy that farms next door pulled up and laughed delightedly.  Our little dog and pony show continued down the road and we pretended we were in chariots and raced.  Of course, Lucky won because once he gets going, there is no stopping.  That and I'm lighter than the Colonel so poor Trusty had the weight disadvantage and frankly, barely walking is more his style.

So those are my daily adventures with the boys.  They go in the barn at night because the cougars are nearby and a bear tore down our neighbors bird feeder two nights ago.  The farmers two Labs came over to investigate and bark at them, but Gus and I scared them off and they are keeping a respectful distance.  Plus, I made the Colonel electrify the bottom fence wire.

The Colonel is fishing now and I am going to take the Niece and da 'Phew for rides while DogGus keeps us all in line.  This will be a Memorable Weekend.

A Stitch in Time

I will see various doctors this week;  my dermatologist for my six month scan, the acupuncturist for my weekly pokes and a new ENT for a scope up the nose.  Maybe the Calidora nurse for some major nose Botox, I'm not sure.

At my last fun visit with the derm, I had the baseline full body scan.  He of course, offered to burn offending things off or scalp them and I picked and chose those items.  One of these weird things was on my toe, on top of a 33 year old bunion scar.  It would get red and bumpy and then go away after awhile.  It wasn't cancerous and I didn't want the bother of a bandaid and scab to deal with.  On this past Saturday, it was back and I touched it and it felt like a hair was stuck.  I grabbed a magnifying glass and tweezers and pulled out a quarter inch stitch!  Yes-  this whole time, an errant piece of nylon was trying to break free!  Utterly earth shattering, I'm sure you agree. 

It is so very reassuring to know that my body will do what it will to remain healthy, even if it takes a long, long, time.

Barn Party

Trusty

We hosted a celebration last weekend;  the anniversary of my plastic surgery and the acquistion of the little men.  It was a Western affair and big fun was had by all.

I stopped by to see the miracle worker, Dr. McIntosh, so that he could bask in his work of art and admire me as I so deserve.  I also talked with him about the pain and big bump on my nose.  He said that I shouldn't wrinkle my nose when I smile, that would fix it.  Very helpful, that man.  In seriousness, he said I should shoot several ccs of Botox to reduce the bump and possibly inject lidocaine into my nerve for pain relief.  After a bit of debate, he will refer me to a pain management clinic, ENT and I'll try nose Botox from Calidora.  Why not him or anyone else?  Because I can receive it wholesale due to the Mister's investment there and they'd better be really nice or else.

Dr. Mc also was excited to learn that Trusty and I are volunteering at Camp Korey.  He is also volunteering as Medical Support for the Craniofacial Kids during week three or four!  He's such a great guy.  Isn't it weird how fate/faces brings people together like this?

Lucky

So, more shots to the face and such.  It's all good.



Happy Anniversary

A year ago today.  I'm in Mazama right now, looking at the clouds slowly drift in a bright blue sky.  It is an amazing peaceful place, a great place to heal and reflect.  Not gonna get all mushy on you, but I am so damn grateful to be where I'm at.

So thank you, Bombay, aka Tango, for showing me that you needed to be in a different life and allowing me to find the little beasties that mean so very much to me.  Thank you for allowing me to become a different person, touched by the many kindnesses of my friends and some complete strangers.  Thank you for giving me the chance to be a better person with a much better outlook on life.  This is life, not a rehearsal and a good kick to the head is what it took to remember.

Update on my career as a Pony Express MJ Delivery Person. I hate it.  It makes me feel out of body, anxious and the pain is still there, although I'm so distracted that it doesn't matter much while I'm stoned.  Tossed it out.  Done.  I'm going back to acupuncture and craniosacral therapy and gonna just keep going.  I'm also making an appointment with Dr. McIntosh, my wonderful plastic surgeon, just so he can admire his handiwork.

Happy Earth Day.  Be happy you have a place on it.

Almost a Year, Let's Buy Some Weed!

Sometimes it feels like yesterday;  other times, like today, it feels like forever.  I played horseys with my little men and then golfed.  This is a normal day, well, except for the face.

Update on the face.  I went to the referring weed doctor.  It was strange location and somewhat seedy (and weedy-  smelling).  There were about seven people waiting to be seen and lots of forms to fill out.  I brought my medical records, but they wanted a repeat;  probably to make sure it was really me.  The people around me were a mixed lot.  A woman who looked like she needed drugs.  An older man dressed up as if it were a job interview and a guy with a back pack that read his Kindle.  The doctors seemed professional, kinda casual, but above board (at least wearing ties).  The guy I saw had diplomas all over the wall and had graduated with my naturopath. He told me about some different vitamins to try to promote anti inflammation and had a referral to a specialist in trigeminal neuralgia.  He said that most patients need two years of documented pain and treatments, but that my allergies to drugs tried would qualify me.  Okay.....that part I didn't quite buy, because I've refused to take the typical pain meds, but he said he understood my reluctance to do opiates.

I asked about where I could get the "stuff" and he said he wasn't allowed to discuss it, that somebody else would give me referrals.  I return to the waiting room and a new guy calls me in to talk about logistics.

New guy, Brandon, sat me down and said that he had my presciption.  Special tamperproof, heat resistant weird paper.  Two of them in fact; one to keep with me at all times and one to keep with the weed.  He asked if I had minors or guns in the house.  I told him I had guns and that I didn't have kids.  He asked if I carried a weapon and I told him I did if I was riding alone.  He said I need to be sure never to carry my weapon while transporting my medicine and at home, the medicine needed to be kept separate from my weapon.  I guess I won't ride a horse when I purchase drugs... That also seems reasonable because I've never kept my gun with my Tylenol.  He asked if I understood that I shouldn't sell my medicine to minors.  This needs to be asked?  I suppose so.

He then told me that there were over 800 dispensararies in the Seattle area with 3-4 opening weekly.  So how do I go to a good one, I ask.  He very seriously said that if it was in a bad part of town and seemed shady or if the person said they had stuff to get me really high, it probably wasn't an ideal place.  Oh, darn.  I was gearing up to ride a horse and bring my gun and hope to get some really good stuff to sell to minors.  So much for my Pony Express Drug Delivery idea.  We did discuss edibles and subliminal tinctures as my form of meds.  There is also a topical cream, so that might work, too.  I am so hoping that they have the right combo to take the edge off these face twinges.

On a positive note, I received five shots in order to volunteer with Trusty at Camp Korey.  My arm hurt like hell for the last few days, but we'll be spreading joys to special kids soon.  We're scheduled for seven weeks this summer, twice a week for an hour of general cuteness and joy.  I also had a blood draw to be sure I had Mumps and Chicken pox and rule out TB. 

I thought it best to do all these tests prior to picking up my new medicine.  I will not be selling it to any kids at camp, I can assure you.

You May Visit Me in Jail

I will accept any and all visitors, yes, I will.

No, I did not kill Trusty's Former Evil Owner.  The transaction went well and I got to see Bombay looking very well, playing with his buddy in a pasture. Valentino seemed happy to be home as he nuzzled his little black kitty friend.  That's all good.

No, I possibly will be arrested in a sting someday.  At least, that is my wild imaginings right now.

The naturopath doctor recommended medical marijuana because I've tried three different drugs, still pain.  Pain pills;  not an option, nerve calming drugs;  not working, acupuncture;  not working, but I get a great nap.  I'm going to my regular MD this week to get my annual and her opinion.  Evidently, it's not a trip to the Gob Shop for a Bong and hope for a dealer on the street, so that is comforting.  I don't want to smoke anything, I don't want to feel "high" and I don't want to wig out and get the munchies, either.  I also don't want to fail any drug test that prevents me from volunteering with my little man, Trusty.  BTW, we are now official Pet Partners, having passed the test yesterday.  So, I'm still doing the research...stay tuned....

So that is the dilemma.  Yes, I will probably have more friends wanting to "share", but I am looking for the end of all this pain in my face, at least until it is healed.

Here are some Easter shots and our our official Pet Partner badge photo.

And Then There Were Two

Oh my, so much has happened in the past couple of weeks.  Where to start?  I need to go back and reread my old posts so I can remember where we last had our big adventure.

Okay, in last week's episode, we watch the Ho (that's me) visit Sad Sophey and discover that all is not as appears.  Then she leaves for Palm Desert with the Colonel to have fun in the sun but still whine and handwring over the fate of the good and angelic Trusty.  During the trip, we watch her whine and negotiate with Trusty's Evil Owner.  Then!!!  Oh, my goodness!!!  An email arrives: 

Hi Heidi,

Life is an ever changing playing field, which I suppose is what keeps
it exciting and interesting...after I saw you on Monday I learned that
I got into Occupational Therapy school in Spokane. This is totally my
dream and the profession will open up so many doors. But it's gotten
me thinking about where I'm at in my life right now being single and
going to grad school makes it more difficult for me to own an adorable
little pony named, Lucky. I've been so fortunate to get to keep him
for as long has I have, but it's only going to become more difficult
both financially and time wise.

My mom and I talked this morning and we think it would be best if we
sell him. I know that you've been interested in solidifying your own
little herd and I wanted to you to be the first to know that we're
going to have to sell him. Do you have any interest in buying him?

I know that this is kind of sudden, so please take your time and we
can talk more when you get back from your trip. I just know that you
would give him the such a great home because he's already so happy
where he is :)

Signed, Lucky's owner

And this is what fate has wrought.  I now have the golden opportunity to own Trusty's twin, who by the way, can be ridden by children, is a champion driving horse, very healthy and has perfect confirmation and has a stellar show record.  He and I will also be doing Pet Partners next year!  He is also Trusty's best buddy. I did think, for a second, well perhaps TEO wants him?  But of course that thought was instantly gone.  He is the 15 year old gelding (like Trusty) that comes with his own harness, cart, saddle pad and accessories for $1800 that she wishes she owned.   Several people have already expressed an interest in him, so I'm really lucky to get Lucky. It's true; the good ones are never advertised! 

Fast forward to this week's episode.  The Ho delivers Valentino, the black mini, back to Trusty's Soon To Be Former Evil Owner with a check ($4K is too much, but she had me over a barrel, so I'm over it) on Friday.  He is not going to kids' camp and will be forever mine.

I will wait a few weeks before I rub it happily in her face!! 

Sad Sophey

She was not the horse in the picture.  When the trailer pulled up, out stepped a muddy brown, disheveled little horse.  Her feet were long and she had a peculiar gait.  She had her tail in a bag and her forelock was tied into knots.  Upon closer inspection, her ears were covered in black gunk and her eyes and nose runny.  I scraped some mud off and discovered rain rot.  I asked if she had recent vet care and they were proud to tell me she had received the West Nile Virus vaccine last year.  The base of her tail was short and rubbed raw, generally a sign of worms.

Her pronounced club foot was explained as a confirmation flaw, but she seemed okay, except that she laid down alot.  Didn't have time to clean her up and, oh, I couldn't find her paperwork.  They didn't keep a blanket on her because she didn't like it.  From the way she kept biting herself and rubbing, I suspect she has lice.

I noticed a smell of rotting meat in her mouth and was informed that she had never been floated.

What to say, except I can't save them all. 

A very sad day.

Current Events

I brushed and brushed and furminated and then did it some more yesterday because today was our MOCK EVALUATION.  Yes, our final class to prepare for the Pet Partners exam on April 7th.  Trusty was quite stunning with quite a bit of hair stripped away and a freshly shorn bridle path and whiskers.

We were last up, so he hung out in the trailer eating hay until it was time to perform. Just to shake off his jitters, we trotted up and down the street until I was huffing and puffing.  We went in and put on his tiny tennis shoes and off we went.  He did very well, calmly walking around cones, ignoring a big ball, politely avoiding a demented volunteer in a wheelchair and not reacting to a strange dog approach.  He did pull his head back a bit when she touched his ears, and then when a woman approached him with her ring extended, he violently pulled back.  We were all surprised and somebody else tried it and he wouldn't touch it.  That was a very unusual behavior and his little nostrils were flaring and trembling.  He completed the rest of the test and we tried to figure out what the issue was.  Another woman came up to him and when he sniffed her ring, she felt a static spark.  He had been shocked!!  No wonder he spooked.

So all that brushing and grooming and then coldness added up to a little hairball of electricity just waiting to be sparked.  I will be very careful the day of the test not to let him get wet, lest he accidentally electrocutes himself.

No word about his ownership.  I am going to look at Sophie, a five year old teeny tiny mare tomorrow.  She has been a Pet Partner since she was two and shown and driven, too.  Her owner is going off to college and I hope and don't hope that she is perfect.  If she is wonderful and I get her, then Trusty potentially leaving won't be as bad.  If she is and we get Trusty, then I will have two, oy vey.  If she isn't wonderful and Trusty leaves, it will be most sad.

Little Sophie

If It's Meant To Be....

Okay.   Normally, and this isn't normal, I wouldn't post private email stuff.  BUT.....this is the response we got from offering a lifetime home after giving Bombay to them....

"Hey.

Daughter and Daughter have" come around" and have been helping me look for another Trusty boy Mini that they are satisfied with...........which means yes, when we find a little pumpkin head as wonderful and talented as him we can/will sign him over to be yours.

Just updating you on my search. The best..........most like Trusty gelding I've found is a little gelding similar to Trusty and has potential for being as calm with the handicapped kids, as well as our camp and lesson kids. .............and he has done a ton of pleasure driving which is fabulous! ( don't know if you have had a chance to drive Trusty yet or not but he is amazing) Unfortunately the owner won't let him go for less than $5, 000 as she is not excited to sell him. I have a few others to go look at in the next cple weeks all in the $3-5 k range as well. The good ones with the training and experience he has are not cheap.

I have helped my vet out with a mini horse rescue and brought some home in hopes of finding a little diamond in the rough. They were a mess and all need extensive training/work so we have cleaned them up and are in the process of choosing foster homes for them.

I plan to keep looking unless that amount would be fine for you.

Give the boys a kiss for me. Hope you are not too soggy after today's rain.............so wishing the sun would come out soon."

Me writing here.....I plan to sit on this for a few weeks and think hard.  My first thought is;  prove that you actually have this "replacement" and my second was, well, "I haven't seen a 16 year old mini going for more than $2000, good luck with that" (truth).  It isn't really about the money, but the principle for neglecting an animal 11 months out of the year kills me.

I am disappointed, but we will all push on...

• Block from...
• Mark this folder as read
• Empty this folder
 

Fun With All Creatures Small

Is there anything better than kids and horses?  No, not really.  Perhaps kids and puppies, but eventually puppies bite and then there is crying and snotty noses and stuff.  I prefer the general slapping of necks, poking of ears and pulling of tails without a lot of fuss.

If you recall, this is my little hero, Audrey, who held horses while the ambulance pulled me to safety and rebuilt nose.  Her little brother, Brady, is stinkin' cute and loves horses, too, which is why he is perfectly content to pull Trusty about while filling his diaper.

A word about Trusty and his future.  While we are bonding and committed to the Pet Partners program, alas, he is still not "mine".  I have been in negotiations with his current owner for a few weeks, and she is still not giving me any indication that she is willing to let him have a loving lifetime home. I know I have given her two little horses much needed care and love, much more than they ever had, but....she can take them any time.  It makes me very sad, but I am resigned to staying positive and giving my best to these boys.  They deserve it and I deserve it.

Too Much Excitement

So the little beast and I are being filmed for some Pet Partners advertising and promotional materials.  It's strange to be followed for three hours every Monday as we unload from the trailer, put our shoes on, eat some grass, poop (Trusty, not me) and then participate in class.  He has not had one accident because of this routine and the fact that he pees, everyday, at 11 AM.  EVERY DAY.  Out we go, he goes, back we go and all is well.  I pee, too, but the cameras don't follow us into the restroom.  They are there to watch us come out.  Yes, he goes with me;  it's the rules.  He does politely avert his eyes, though.  It's my own little reality show.

Yesterday, I took him to my former workplace in order to freak out my former boss.  It was also a good time to practice stairs and elevators.  Former boss is the most anal person I know, but what do you expect from an HR person?  No papers on the desk at night, no nails in the walls, no clutter or mess of any kind.  I knew he'd be in a meeting so we quite casually entered the office and walked about until I saw some coworkers.  Then, I opened the door of the meeting and strode in.  He wasn't surprised!  He just laughed.  I was bummed but everybody was delighted, so it was okay.  Trusty, of course, just enjoyed the attention.

However, our streak has been broken.   As we turned to leave, out popped three milk duds.  Former boss freaked.  I was so happy!

The Barbie Farm

I adore my little herd.  How could you not?  Everything is so little.  I bought a little shovel to scoop the little poop out of the little trailer and put it in a little bucket.  I got a little hay bag for Trusty's lunch so he can eat with his little mouth inside the little trailer while we're in class.  I bought a little brush to brush their little manes and tails, which is really pretty stupid because now it takes twice as long.  Back to the normal sized one.

But look, oh look, at what I found!!!!

And they are only $10 each!!!!

Little boots for inside wear AND a little fancy leopard print halter with a matching lead rope!

He does have the Build-a-Bear Skecher tennis shoes, but they are white and get so dirty.  I will save those for special indoor occasions.

I know it's crazy, but I really believe that I've found the good out of this horrific accident.  It led me to Trusty and the cool Pet Partner program we're involved in.  It gives me a reason to look past my painful mouth and nose (yes, it still hurts and the drugs are worthless so I'm dealing with the pain...for now)  I love taking him out and around places and meeting nice people who are frankly astonished to see a little bison walking down the sidewalk.  I'm all about the unexpected.

Life is good.

I Got Lucky!!

Get it?  Ha Ha Ha. Lucky is the new mini we're boarding and he is just stinkin' cute.  He and Trusty are similar in size and they have bonded tremendously since he arrived.  Except when it comes to sharing treats.

Shut up.  No, you shut up.  The treats are for me.  Are not, are too, are not, are too....

 

 

Tino is too worried about proving he is the boss, so he remains in jail until he knows better.  He also could lose 10 pounds so he really is in fat jail.

Dairy Crisis

I usually watch the news at noon if I'm home.  Today, the news was on ALL DAY.  Snow, ice, danger, power loss, male pattern baldness, end of days.

STATE OF EMERGENCY.  Yes, that is what we have.  And the reason why?  Straight from the Governor's mouth:  "Dairy truckers are restricted to certain hours based on trucking regulations.  The state is potentially losing $1 million dollars a day in lost milk.  We must declare a state of emergency to override the state trucking statutes and invoke a federal law."  This is what she said today.

Really?  All over milk?  I say, dump the milk into the snow and make lots of ice cream!!  Winning!!

And to think the Colonel wanted to go to Mazama this week.  We have more snow here than there, and I am so over it.

They Make Me Laff

What a delightful day.  Snow;  a reason to stay inside and make beet soup.  You heard me, beet soup, 0 fat and good fiber, just what the Colonel needs.

The little boys have been making milk dud soup with all the bucking, rearing, biting, rolling and general tom foolery out there.  I've never seen them play so much and you should see Trusty!  He is so instigating every episode with that sneak attack to the ankle, then razor fast face biting.  I took a video that of course won't load so I had to youtube it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NL9BkP24VOE&feature=youtu.be

Investigative Journalism

Mr. Rat, or perhaps a relative of his, is back.  I am inclined to think it is not a rat now, because of the unusual facts that have appeared.  As a former HR investigator, I'm all about the facts.  Just the facts, ma'am.

1.  I covered the holes leading under the barn.  They are freshly dug out.
2.  Gus still sniffs everywhere and bounces about when I say, "Get the mousey."
3.  I moved the Have-a-Heart-Trap to the side of the barn closest to a freshly dug hole and the next day, the trap was sideways, the paper plate was torn up with the peanut butter gone and an apple piece outside of it.

Based on these facts, I believe there is something living under the barn and possibly a raccoon messed with the trap.  We have two intruders.  The Mister thinks a mouse did it.  Really?  This is what the Great White Hunter came up with?  A mouse moved the trap and tore (not chewed) the plate into eight pieces?  His reasoning was because the trap door was still up.  My reasoning is that the raccoon shook it out and the trap door is stuck. The Mister put another plate of peanut butter inside after fixing the trap door, which was stuck.

It is amazing how sometimes the universe aligns and a theory actually works.  So here is the background;  the mini trailer fits in the back of our truck perfectly.  It uses a ramp which is so steep that it scares the crap out of me to climb it and also scared the minis, as well.  Very unsafe with no side rails, either.  The Mister came up with a brilliant solution.  Why don't we put it inside the horse trailer?  Yes, a mini trailer inside a horse trailer.  Because, after all, that's why we bought a lightweight mini hauler.  To put into our cumbersome horse trailer for ease of use. After presenting him with the patented wife move of eye rolling and not-so-concealed exasperation, I said, how about we put it into a trailer that is lower to the ground, so the ramp isn't so inclined?  A bit of research showed that a landscaper utility trailer might work, so off we went. Sure enough, a 4X6 was the perfect fit (and has a built in ramp!!) and the guys at Kirshner in Woodinville were so excited that they wired it, cut out a tiny space on the ramp for the upper lock on the drop down window in back and washed it for me.  Then, they took pictures to put on their website.  They told me that after they took the pictures, they realized that people would think, "Big deal, a horse trailer," so in order to give it perspective, they put Rudy, the office cat inside.  I told them, "Well, what if Rudy was a giant cat?  Would it still be in perspective?"  Really, you need to think these things through.

So we got the trailer in a trailer home and I backed it into its' little spot next to the barn under the roof.  Time to load the boys.  Trusty wasn't entirely sure, so I did the old carrot on the ramp trick.  He stretched and tried to reach it with his stubby little neck, then looked at me and performed his "cute" trick.  (He cocks his head sideways like a listening dog and bats his eyes.  Truly, it's pretty funny.)  When that didn't work, he took a step and received much praise and a bit of carrot.  Another step, another bit.  Then he stood for a while on the ramp and stamped his foot and looked at me.   I said, "Nice try, but moving forward is the goal."  Another pause and he walked right in to crunch up a half dozen baby carrots.  He stood for a while and I went to get Tino.  He paused and looked at Trusty eating carrots and ran up the ramp and into the trailer.  Smart boy.

Terribly exciting, my life.  As I used to sign off on my emails at work:

That is my report.

Good Riddance

2011 really sucked after April for a long time.  It seems all very unreal now and I don't feel like people are staring at me so much anymore to gauge my healing.

We met some really fun and good friends for an overnight NY party starting with Build-Your-Own-Bloody-Marys at Paliminos for lunch.  Then, the four guys and I went to see the stupidest movie I think I've ever seen, "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Blah".  The best part was when Mike fell asleep next to me and started snoring, really loud.  It was only after Denny actually heard him and most of those around us were laughing that I elbowed him to wake up.  The smart girls went to see, "We Bought a Zoo", which was at least somewhat entertaining.

Power naps ensued and then we had apps and champagne in our friends' suite.  We dressed all fancy and the boys wore their coordinated tuxes, as pre-planned.  Of course, we all complimented ourselves on our fancy finery (I taught the Mister how to say, "That's cute" and he says it convincingly) and how well we clean up.  Then we piled into the Westin van with to-go cups and landed at Glendale CC for a night of dinner and dancing.  There were about 90 couples, most we knew.  We mingled with everyone and I only heard, "Wow, your face looks really good," twice, which is a big win for me because it means people are forgetting.  Of course, I'm not forgetting, as I take my Rx at exactly 9 PM or else my face starts burning and when I attempt head banging while dancing to AC/DC, I think vertigo might appear, so I can't. 

I did get up on stage to dance with the band (invited, not as a drunken stunt, mind you.)  I dry humped the bass player because he was over 300 lbs and then did the Time Warp because it was the song being sung (okay, that was a bit of drunken play).

Then I realized people were staring at me, but this time I didn't mind at all.