family

Yesterday Husband and I went to visit my aunt and uncle about 90 miles away. This is something we do several times a year, talk for a few hours while we are there on a Sunday afternoon.. We decorate the graves of my parents, aunt and sister, then visit with the aunt and uncle for several hours before heading home.

And for the first time in a long time, our daughter elected to come with us.

I should mention that conversations with the relatives are not the most exciting. They tend to cover local news, family news, and political news. But daughter, 30 years old, sat and listened and contributed and (she said later) actually enjoyed herself. It wasn't a red letter visit; they are redoing their kitchen and have everything all helter-skelter, piled on every flat surface while the work is being done. We sat on the front porch, a nostalgic place in its own right.

But I think I know why R wanted to come.

The day before yesterday she went to the wedding for one of her co-workers, someone she didn't know very well from work, but whom she liked a lot; a funny, outspoken woman that means a lot to her happiness at the job. Turns out she has a huge family clan -- R was one of very few who wasn't related -- and all 10 of the bride's aunts and uncles attended, along with most of their offspring. Our family, you see, consists now of the 4 of us, and the aunt and uncle we visited. It must have engendered in her a desire to at least know them better, to participate in the catching-up and reminisces that are a predictable part of any visit. The tales they tell end up usually in my ongoing genealogy files, which I assumed would interest our children not a bit, and so I plan to donate them to the WV family archives at WVU when I am unable to pursue them further.

It was pleasing for me to think she seems to really enjoy time spent on extended family things, and not just in the here-and-now of work and friends that is so much a part of daily life, and in the end means little enough at all.

Three years retired, I know whereof I speak. Friends and co-workers come and go, but family (for better or worse) remain a part of who we are long after the names of friends have slipped away.

So here's to relatives, near and far, who carry a bit of history and share it with us.

I won't forget.

Bumper Sticker: To err is human to ARRR is pirate!

Back at ya...

I've let the updating of this blog slide a bit, but events have been moving along. Raven had the surgery on her ACL, it went very well and she is recovering very speedily. She goes to have stitches removed today. She is bearing weight on the leg, but is of course pretty gimpy. It will take, we've been told, 6 or 8 weeks for full recovery. The vet said this knee surgery will improve the weight bearing on that hip as well, so the displasia should be less of a problem He also said that he thought her displasia is as bad as it will get now (which is fairly OK) and to keep up the chondroitin, glucosamine, etc. She has been on pain killers around the clock since the surgery, and today will be the first 24 hours without, although she is still on Metacam, an NSAID which is easy to give her. She looks even more peculiar now than she did after we clipped her. Our part of the de-matting proves to be thorough, but obviously it will take more practice to get an even appearance. Then the vet shaved her rear leg to the skin, and her opposite foreleg also, for the IV access, so she really looks like she has gone 10 rounds with a weed-wacker. Poor baby.

Today we sedate Maggie, the black and white Newf, and de-mat her as well, and thankfully she is much less matted than Raven was, and should go faster and be less whacked looking.

The weather here (WV) has been so WEIRD this last week. Three days ago we had a FROST advisory at night, and it did get into the low 30s. Today the high is expected to be 83! I would rather have a happy medium between these extremes. Who is in charge of these things, anyway? Obviously a bipolar phenomenon (if you are religious I apologize, I am not).

I cleaned out a dresser drawer the other day, and found most of our cameras, 4 of them, still with film in them. The old Pentax jammed with the mirror up when I tried to use it, so the roll was light struck and I pitched it. The minolta talker had corroded battery terminals, but once cleaned it worked fine although the photos were the pits, all dark and fuzzy. 6 year old film to blame. One of the canon APS cameras had completely blank film, I need to check it with a new roll of film to see if the shutter is working correctly. There are still two cameras with film in them, I will take a few shots with them and then process, if Wal-Mart can do 110 film anymore. I have a ton of film in the refridge, hopefully it is still good to go. There are two cameras, Minox, with film, but sending those out for processing is a big hassle, there are only 1 or 2 places that still do it. You can't buy the cassettes anymore and have to use old ones and roll new film on them (which is 35 mm film split in half) and do so in a changing bag. I enjoy doing this about as much as a poke in eye. Can I guess about fingerprints on the film?

And don't get me started about the Polaroid Captiva camera, with batteries built into the film cassette...

So Blogger is experiencing trouble saving, and thus I will quit while I am ahead. No bumper sticker for the day, I have misplaced my sticker book. What, did you think I keep all these in my head?!

next...

I am having all sorts of problems when I sign into Google, necessary so I can post here. Should I take that as a sign?

Easter Sunday was a beatch here. We decided to tackle the grooming of Raven, our black Newfy dog. Her fur was terribly matted and the mats were like felted yarn in their density. We used the new ClipMaster clippers (see below) and made her into a fuzzy Lab, sort of. On the front she is pretty much as she should be; That part wasn't so matted and could be groomed, but the stuff from her shoulders back was a real mess. I was afraid that we would find sores underneath, but her skin is clear and healthy. Her tail -- well, you have to see it. Will post photo below the one of the clippers.

Unfortunately, in the process of cutting away one very large mat (closely matted to the skin) we cut her with the scissors. This was in an area where the loose skin on her belly meets the skin on her thigh, always a tricky area. It needed stitches. But she was tranked for the session with acepromazine, and thus could not walk on her own, much less get up in the back seat of the truck. So we had to carry her after waiting several hours for her to semi-awaken. Oh, and she weighs 140 pounds, We then carried her into the truck and on into the emergency vet clinic. Now she is OK on the cut and the mats are gone, and the dense undercoat should be able to drop off without the long guard hair coat tangling it up. Meanwhile, Maggie (the other, larger Newf) piled onto her buddy Raven and damaged her bum hip again, so it is solitary confinement for them both until she can walk on it again. They are both barking/howling in the barn, they do not like being apart, even though it is only through the thickness of a stall door.

With the hip dysplasia so much worse now, when we return to our regular vet to have the stitches removed, we will have to see what options are available now that the glucosamine chondroitin MSG mixture is losing its effectiveness. I suspect that we are looking at a fairly short lifetime for her, as much as it pains me to say so. I will never get another Newf.

Update: The joint injured is NOT her crummy hip, but the ligament on the front of her knee on her hind leg. The only fix is surgical; the cost is enormous. We meet with the surgeon on Wednesday to see where we stand. Is it sensible to spend 4 figures on this one joint when there are three more ready to fail as well? I'm grieving already.

bumper sticker of the day: "Black holes: Where God divided by zero"

photo error--will try later

Nothing much

Thinking about my upcoming 40th wedding anniversary brought to mind this wedding photo from 1970. That's me and my BFF, looking all young (and skinny). All I remember thinking about during the wedding, was to hand my flowers to the maid of honor, let her lift my veil, and THEN turn back to the new hubby for the "gotcha" kiss. And also, I remember thinking how fast it all seemed to go by--all that effort getting ready (and my wedding was a snap compared to the extravaganzas brides plan now) and over so fast. In and out in 20 minutes.

I don't know what brides are thinking of these days, I really don't. So much money spent!! I'd rather have had the down payment on a house myself. Or half of a new car. Something lasting, not just one frantic day that has to be planned like the invasion of Normandy, and the stress of getting it all to come off, the pressure to get right every little detail. Brides spend more on their gowns than my whole wedding cost! Bizarre.

That photo has been PS'ed a bit, can you tell there was someone there to my right? I can't, now. I love Photoshop, but it has completely eroded my faith in what I believe a photo shows. Given time, you can get photos to show anything from Bigfoot to UFOs, and make it look REAL. I understand that in criminal trials, digital photos are not admissible as proof, but that could be an urban legend too. I don't find it on snopes, but if you want to give it a shot, here is the link to urban legends: Http://snopes.com They are good for a giggle, just to read.

Bumper sticker of the day: "For every action there is an equal and opposite criticism."

Perhaps a little premature...

Well, I started out the front door yesterday and it was... sleeting. And only in the 40s, after being 70s the day before. So maybe I am being a little too quick to herald the end of winter, but the daffodils are blooming. So soon it will be warm, and we'll be bitchin' about mowing, and the heat, and the flies (always a consideration with horses). We're never pleased.

The Miata came back with 2 new tires but otherwise passed its 30K mile check up. Even the battery was OK. It is so nice to be driving it again, especially with the top down. I got my first Miata in 1996. The kids were driving, and everyone seems to get a car for the kids to drive; but I said phooey on that--they can take the old Subaru and I'll get what I really want to drive for the first time. That one was blue; then a 1999 green one, and then this 2002 black one. Do you think I'm in a rut? I looked at the new Miata while we were at the dealer's place, and Wow, does it ever look good, with a retractable hard top no less. However I have something the new one lacks -- the title.

Our cruise in June is shaping up nicely. We've selected our shore excursions, and have the flights booked (again), and all that remains is to book a hotel for the Friday night before the cruise, since we will have to fly to Boston a day early. I am really looking forward to it. Our 40th anniversary, what a thought, I don't feel old enough, aren't I still 30? I guess I can't be middle aged unless I live to be 116 years old! Well, like the old Queen song, who wants to live forever?

bumper sticker for the day: "Common sense isn't all that common."

Sniff sniff...

I'm sick again. This time (so far) it all seems to be a head cold, so with luck I can avoid the pneumonia that I had last time. Either way I feel like I may never breathe through my nose again. Thus I have plenty of time to dwell on one my favorite themes, which is Why won't sick people stay home and not spread their germs everywhere healthy people are? There seems to be this abiding attitude that struggling into work when you obviously belong in bed somehow means you are scoring points in the Loyal Employee stakes, showing that come hell or high water you made it into work. Please. Anyone you come in contact with knows just where to put the blame when they too become sick. I guess I got this from my son, who picked it up at work. Ick.

Well, much to my surprise, the health care reform bill passed! Whoot! When I was working in the hospital several years ago, I had a lot of contact with cancer patients who were undergoing bone marrow transplants. And those "lifetime liability" numbers from the insurance companies got crunched up by the expensive procedures to which these poor folks counted on to survive really quickly. Reading back over, this isn't quite what I wanted to say, but anyway, the reform of lifetime caps is a good thing. And yes, cancer patients do cost us all a lot, but hello? They want to live?

My son told me an interesting factoid. He said that $1 billion dollars, in $100 dollar bills, stacked on a regular pallet (4' x 4') waist high, it would take 11 pallets to hold it all. Now our house is pretty crowded these days, but if anyone wants to test this out, I am sure we will find somewhere to stack all those dead presidents. All in the name of scientific discovery, of course.

Bumper sticker of the day: "No one is sure of the age of the human race, but everyone agrees we are old enough to know better."

I think it may be over

I think we have entered Soggy Spring at last. The horses look like woolly mammoths but their blankets are off (and are so dirty they stand up by themselves--sort of like they are on an invisible horse). The grass is non-existent because of the mud, especially where the nags have been "grazing", but it is still better than dirty slippery snow. If everything greens up I'll post pictures here ASAP.

I am also feeling well for a change, over the pneumonia and the mammo trauma. I just finished doing our income taxes (yeah me) and the results are not too bad. They have been e-filed, that much less to worry with, and the checks are in the mail (really). All the cats and dogs are OK, and no new additions, thank god. There is still a massive amount of laundry, but there is no end to that anyway, unless we all give up changing clothes forever. Ick. My Miata has been unwrapped and actually driven, once the battery was re-charged. It goes in the shop Tuesday for its 30,000 mile maintenance, even though it has only 28,000 miles on it, because it has had no service since I purchased it new in 2002 (other than oil changes), so it will be interesting what if anything they discover. I figure it will at least need a new battery. I had it detailed before wrapping it, so it looks pretty good for an 8 year old car.

Norm climbed up on a looong ladder on Friday and repaired the gutters where the massive icicles tore them down as they melted. I checked out the houses of neighbors when we drove by and the gutters are twisted or off on 75% of them, and I understand the local "gutter guys" are backed up unit August. We have had major downstairs flooding in the past when the gutters were too full of leaves, such that all the extra rainwater flooded in through the garage and on into the house, so we can't afford to wait months for functional gutters. what a winter.

So life just rolls on, nothing of vital importance going on here. Which is good. Drama has never been my best coping skill set.

Bumper Sticker: "I used to have a handle on life, but it broke."

It. Is. Still. Winter.

I am so very very sick of winter. We have had continuous snow since mid Dec. Right now there are about 9 inches; they melt down into smaller depths, briefly, and then rise up again, good as new (grrr) with the next snowfall. I WANT SPRING!! Daffodils, wisteria, robins. Please? I have cabin fever very badly.

Of course I had the other kind of fever, the kind that sends you to the clinic without showering first, or brushing your teeth or combing your hair. You just go in all your misery and humbly ask for drugs. After my positive chest xray they sent me home with an inhaler, steroids, antibiotics and cough syrup, and I am now pretty much healed, all except my ears which makes everybody sound like they are talking inside a bucket.

I caught this misery at that best of all places, a hospital. I went on a Friday for my annual mammogram (my friend calls them mammygrams, and that tickles me) and first thing Monday morning they called me to ask me to come in RIGHT AWAY for further films. They whisked me past all the other waiting patients, the receptionist said "they'd heard about ME(??) " They took another 6 films, had me wait, than sent me for ultrasound, and then has me wait until the radiologist came and scanned them himself. Then the next day the surgeon called me to arrange a biopsy, which was done on the Thursday, and then I returned to the surgeon who said the biopsy was benign. Follow up in three months. And from all this office-hospital-waiting area I picked up the damn pneumonia. thanks ever so much

Next time I shall bathe in Purell as I go.

Bumper sticker : "Slogan and rant-free zone"

The two photos above are another example of the before and after of photoshop. That's a hat, looking like a UFO, blown by the wind around my neck from where it was behind my head, that spoiled this phot of me riding in Puerto Rico on Paso Fino horses (with the crappiest tack I have ever seen, and that's quite a lot) on the beach. A marvelous ride, my husband and me. We even galloped part of the time. I'm sitting nice and straight, but my heels are up, a consequence of having the stirrups a little too long. If you are interested, and why would you be? It is far better that one takes the photo correctly instead of relying on post-photo image alteration, but clearly *I* did not take this, so I don't feel so bad.

My photo efforts for BetterPhoto are going OK, tho I find that thinking of a composition to meet the month's "mission" is far more difficult than actually taking such a photo (unless I am thinking of a ballerina in full leap onstage or some such). My efforts for Nov and Dec were uninspired, and Jan. "black and white and Highkey" shots are difficult. The other students seem to have technically good shots, but I would rate them mostly mundane in subject, except for a few amazingly well done ones. Still, this is not photography as art as much a post-card photo production. I have to see if I will continue. There are 150+ students, and only the best seem to get reviewed by the other students, and occasionally by the instructors. The more formal classes they do are more satisfying, really.

The weather here has been so awful... snow and bitterly cold, and now slightly warmer (upper 30s) with rain, turning the paddocks into seas of mud. I don't like turning the horses out when the ground is so slippery, it is so easy for a bad fall to really injure them. As a result they have been in the barn far too much, and are getting quite grumpy. The dogs look like monsters with mud everywhere, but it will have to wait for much warmer weather to wash them, that and a fire hose, I think. Or maybe a carwash. The all-black Newfy isn't quite so bad, but the Black and white Newfy!!! Gross.

I actually tackled the clothes in my closet, I was so bored stuck in the house. I purged 50 pairs of pants (mostly jeans) and have 50 pairs left. Of shirts and sweaters I winnowed out 30 or so, but there are around 200 left, so not a big success there. I did arrange them by type, all the turtlenecks, the tshirts, the longsleeved and silk shirts, and so forth. I got rid of all the tshirts and sweatshirts that had writing or logos on them (I'm too old for them, for sure), but what about those sweats and shirts with embroidered images on them, should I purge them too? Some are quite lovely...

I have seen a few episodes of "Hoarders" about people unable to part with anything, no matter how broken or grubby they may be, until their homes are literally garbage dumps with narrow trails to allow them to get to the bed or the bathroom. Every time I see an episode, it makes me itch, and I have to get up and clean. I could so see me getting so much stuff that boxes would line the walls, mainly because I keep clothes that are both too amall and too large, because of fluctuating weight. So what is in the closet is really just the tip of the iceberg, there are plastic bins stored outside in a shed that are yet more clothing, as well as bed linens (why is it so hard to part with linens and bedspreads for bed sizes you don't have anymore?) and other miscellany. You can see why I worry about hoarding, but at least I haven't gotten like some poor souls who hang onto empty paint cans and trash scavenged from other people's throw-outs. Maybe there is hope for me yet. Although I do wonder, why is it, when I save so much stuff, I only find a need for it the week I threw it away? Some Corollary to Murphy's law, I guess.

bumper sticker for the day: "Of course I can do it!! The question is, do I want to?"

Photos

I have posted these pictures so everyone can see the dramatic difference Photoshop can achieve. (And I hasten to add, these were not fixed by me! ) This photo of my aunt was taken a few weeks before her death, and it is so evocative of all the times we visited and talked and talked, so I was devastated when the photo showed she blinked. This was taken on film, and so I couldn't immediately view it like you can in digital. Anyway, it is repaired now, so I am mailing hard copies to the cousins and my aunt and uncle, I know they will be pleased.

On a similar note, the afore mentioned aunt and uncle loaned us a huge oval photo of my grandmother that needs immediate copying before the deterioration progresses. The original is on oval curved glass and it looks very fragile. Maybe copying will be a viable alternative to repair of the actual photo, we will see. I will post here if it pans out. I never saw a photo of her as a young women, and was amazed at how lovely she was. We tend to think our grandparents have always been like they are now, whether they are 50 or 80, but inside that old interior is the self image they carry that says "I can't be that old", I don't look that old, surely? At least that is true for me, 58 and soon to be 59, because inside I am still 20 in my self-image. When I look in the mirror, specially when I catch a glimpse unexpectedly in a mirror or a glass window, I am struck with how much I resemble Mom. And I think, surely not? Sobering. The notion that there is nothing Time hasn't touched assumes paramount importance; even with our "treasures" we see that they look a little faded, and a little tacky, and have lost their shine as time moves on. Really, everything changes.

I guess 3 am is time for depressing posts, so I'll stop for now. Photos soon appended.

Bumper sticker for the day: My dog can lick your honor student. (have I used this before?)

Betterphoto Dec. submission

Slowly going to work my way back into posting here. This is a start. If you click on the big photo you can see the entire thing, and my other photos on Photobucket. Nothing too great, frankly.

better late than never

I cannot believe it has been that long since I last posted! A few weeks, yes, but not over a month. To all 6 of my readers, I apologize.

The photo class is over, and I enjoyed it. This class featured the use of the Nikon D40, which I had recently bought. It is a humdinger of a camera, although only 6 MB resolution, I find it makes great images of normal 4x6 or 8x10, and what would I do with a bigger photo? I've reached saturation with even 8x10, for framing and displaying...




The first photo is of Raven and Magpie playing in the hose, to demonstrate stop-motion. The second photo shows extremely short depth of field from a wide aperture, although (the instructor pointed out) the ladybug is not quite in perfect focus. I hate ladybugs. This one is actually dead and thus sat very still for the photo. Sometimes we get hundreds of them perched on the side of the house, then some get in, make the cats go nuts trying to catch them (lamps kicked over, papers scattered, glasses tipped over, it's a real fun scene) and then when you whack them, they really stink. I am not a big fan of any bugs, actually. There were originally 5 people in the class, but by the end, only two of us finished. It puzzles me why people would pay $200 for a class and then not do the assignments. More money than sense, I guess.

Rachel went to the beach with her friends and returned safely, sunburned and bearing lots of stuff, since it was the end of the season and everything was super cheap.

Tomorrow someone comes to give us an estimate on re-doing the bathroom. I figure it will be high, but we will have something to compare to while we look at other places. Rachel, who never wants things to change, was demanding Why now? I resisted the impulse to say "because we are thinking of selling the house" which would have sent her into a total tailspin, aren't I mean? Really, though, this place is 30 years old and it really shows in the bathrooms.

My insomnia continues to be a problem, but right now I'm feeling very sleepy, so off to dreamland.

Bumper sticker for the day: If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?

Dunno...

I've been thinking off and on all day about what I could post here today, but I finally realized that for now, at least, the well is dry. So..

Today's bumper sticker: "Rock is Dead! Let's hear it for paper and scissors!"

Waiting

I think one third of my life has been spent on waiting. I'm still not good at it! You know what I mean; it's not like a kid waiting for Christmas, it's more like waiting at the dentist. We wait in line at the store and at the bank, we wait for phone calls and for busy lines to be free. We wait for the report from our doctors, and we wait at the hospital when they want more tests. We wait without water for the plumber to come, and without electricity until the check clears. Wait, wait, wait.

When I worked, I also waited for projects to get done, and people to cool down. I waited to pull into the parking space, and at the red lights to go home. I waited to be picked up from work, and I waited for the kids to get in the car so we could leave the daycare.

I could go on and on, but you're waiting for the 30 seconds to count down, aren't you?

John Milton: "They also serve, who only stand and wait."

Bumper sticker for today : "I brake suddenly for tailgaters."

Sleepy time

My daughter is going to Virginia beach for her vacation next week, and I don't want her to go. Yes, I know she's 29; that she is going with 3 other girlfriends; that she drove all the way to Rehoboth Beach with me a couple of years ago and did fine; that she is a careful driver. But still, drivers are such maniacs on the road anymore, you need eyes in the back of your head to watch out for them. And like all moms, I worry about strangers at the hotel, etc. etc. I mainly worry late at night in a pattern that all mothers are familiar with, where I am very sleepy but my brain won't SHUT UP. I woke up at 5:30 this morning, which is a great improvement over the usual 4 am awakening. I have been sleeping pill free for several weeks, hurrah for me. But this trip next week will probably shoot all of that down, and it will be Ambien until she gets home.

I got three new art prints yesterday from All Posters, to replace four nice prints of the 4 seasons (not the singers; spring summer, etc.) which have been hanging for 35 years, here and in CA. It is hard to remember a time when they were not up, but I am tired of them and the new ones look great. See photos below from the All Posters web site.





Bumper sticker for today: Untie Dyslexic Church of Dog (with a picture of a running dog trailing a leash).

Pretty Lame

It took two days and five people, but we got the lumber out, all the branches gathered and chipped up, the chips spread under the shelter roof, and sufficiently healed ourselves so we can bend over again. NEVER again.

I enrolled in another online photo workshop, this one for the Nikon D40 camera, which I bought not long ago. The manual for it is almost useless, explaining what a button or dial is for (like " this button switch between AE-S and AE-F") which means WTF? It starts in October, and I will post photos from the classes here. Aren't you thrilled?

We have too many cats. Between the dogs and the cats, we are regular clients at the vets, and honor I could do without. Just keeping up with the food and litter requirements is a major task. And we don't have enough laps to go around, so the cats play musical laps. (This only makes sense if you know what musical chairs is.)

One story from childhood you might enjoy. Or not. Anyway, I went to a private school for first grade, because I was only 4 when I started. From second through to high school I was the youngest in my class, and certainly one of the most ignorant when it came to dirty jokes and such.
For example:

A young man goes into a drug store to buy condoms. The pharmacist says the condoms come in packs of 3, 9 or 12 and asks which the young man wants. "Well," he said, "I've been seeing this girl for a while and she's really hot. I want the condoms because I think tonight's "the" night. We're having dinner with her parents, and then we're going out. And I've got a feeling I'm gonna get lucky after that. Once she's had me, she'll want me all the time, so you'd better give me the 12 pack." The young man makes his purchase and leaves.

Later that evening, he sits down to dinner with his girlfriend and her parents. He asks if he might give the blessing, and they agree. He begins the prayer, but continues praying for several minutes. The girl leans over and says, "You never told me that you were such a religious person."

He leans over to her and says, "You never told me that your father is a pharmacist."

I had a vague idea about "getting lucky" but what were condoms? So ignorant. Not like today when any 8 year old can tell jokes (other than knock knock jokes).

"Two zebras are talking and one asks the other, "Am I black with white
stripes or white with black stripes?" The other replies, "Well I don't
know. You should pray to God about that and ask him." So that night he did
and God replied, "You are what you are." The next day he said to the other
zebra, "I still don't understand what I am because God just said, You are
what you are." The second zebra responds, "You must be white with black
stripes or else God would have said, Yo is what yo is."

Or maybe not. Most kids' jokes have something about poop in them.

Onwards, ever onwards. Pictures, next time, I promise.

Bumper sticker: "Boldly going nowhere."

Lumberjacks

I can scarcely believe the mess that is our front yard. I have posted photos at the bottom, but they don't show the overwhelming mess that is a result of removal of about 8 black locust trees. The trees are essentially scrub-- they have been here the 30 years we have owned the place, and, like poor Yorick*, the years have not been kind to them. One of the problems is where they are, which is adjacent to the power lines as they bend around our corner. We asked the power company to drop them, but since they weren't completely dead, they said no (although they are perfectly willing to take down three maple trees that are maybe twice as far away from the lines, and beautiful, too), so we paid two of their moonlighting crew to take them down. To save money, we agreed that all they needed to do was drop them -- not clean up the branches, trunks, and so forth. It seemed like a good idea then.

But when the branches are 80 feet or so in the air, just the tip top part, it doesn't look like much of a job. But once on the ground, the pile of branches, which still must be cut off at the trunk, and then into manageable pieces, is very daunting. We three worked on it Sunday and got, maybe, a third of it done. All we are doing is piling the branches up; on Friday we rent a chipper and devour the branches, gulp. Meanwhile our neighbor is taking the tree trunks, which he cuts for firewood, needing a lot for his wood-burning furnace. That is an enormous help, and of course he is glad to get locust, a very hard wood that is slow burning. But we have been having a run of poor luck this week, when we planned on getting as a lot done in the evening. First N had an earache, which the doctor diagnoses as a sinus infection. Then C comes down with a virus which keeps him close to the bathroom. Yesterday I chipped a tooth, leaving me with a jagged spike that I constantly probe with my tongue, you know, the way everyone does, (like picking at a scab), so it's me to the dentist today. We now plan to keep the chipper over the weekend so we can chop and chip at the same time, hopefully. The last time we did this kind of heavy physical stuff was 20 years ago, putting in fence, and we can definitely feel the difference. If we had realized how much effort we would have to do, we would have paid anything to get it done for us. The very thought of it all makes me want to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head. I guess like poor Yorick* the years have not been kind to us either.

Meanwhile, the Newf, Maggie, is still semi-paralyzed in the rear end, to the puzzlement of the vet and us. We are assuming she damaged nerves in her right rear leg, or spine, in her fall, and pinched a nerve which is slow to heal. We keep her on a maintenance dose of pain killers, which seems to help a lot. We see her running around now, with a strange little crow hop in her hind legs, and then she will abruptly sit down and pull herself along with her front paws for a few feet, or just sit there, then get back up. Weird, and disturbing. It's hard to see progress one day at a time. Does this sound familiar to any dog lovers out there? Please don't suggest a trolley for her - as I said before, she weighs around 130 ponds. She would chew it to pieces in moments, too. After all, she eats garden hoses left outside like they were tasty -- like licorice, maybe.

So off to start another day.







Today's bumper sticker: "Caution: I swerve to hit cars at random"





* Yorick -- Shakespeare? Hamlet? Never mind.

Here I go again...

Everytime I think I am on the track to regular posting on this, something rises up and smacks me and I am weeks getting it all together again. No picture this week. I can't figure out how to download the photosfrom the Nikon to this pc computer, where the typing is easier because it is a desktop, although the Macbook never even blinked, it started iPhoto and click, there they were. I usually download to both computers, otherwise the thumb drive gets a workout and I get annoyed that even being on the same WiFi network, I can't figure out how to get them to communicate. This originally arose from wanting to share the printer on the desktop, but Apple says the computer is not Mac compatible. When I printed out a picture on the Mac recently, I just carried the Mac in here, plugged the USB cable into the Mac and bingo! I had a printer for the Mac. Would that everything were so simple.

The reason I haven't been posting, if you care, and why should you? is that I have been involved on a near-daily basis with trying to get the mats out of Raven's sheep-wooly coat so the undercoat won't cause heat prostration. No wonder she is immune to the cold! Finally we resolved that she will become a Lab on the bottom half and a Newf on the top half of her body, and I broke out the Oster A-5 clippers. These are good clippers, I use them on the horses to trim legs, chins, ears and so on, and I used a new blade. But even the clippers couldn't cope with that mess. We had just let it go on too long without combing her out. So I finally took a deep breath and ordered an Oster Clipmaster, which is one bad boy clipper. It's about a foot long, fan cooled, and is made for the "professional" and can and is used to shear sheep. Haven't tried it yet because it is so damn hot (94 yesterday) we brought the dogs inside where they can lay on the cool tile floor in the kitchen until the heat abates, usually around dusk, when they go to the barn for the night. And damned if I clip in the kitchen. Just the stuff we got off her neck and hindquarters filled a paper grocery bag, and it felt like cashmere. If only it had smelled better. Any way, that was when we realized she had a UTI, so off to the vet to lay out another $200. Antibiotics for two weeks, three giant horse pills, because she weighs 127 lbs. We hide them in hot dogs. That works. Mostly.




Today's bumper sticker: "National Sarcasm Society". And then, in smaller print, "Like we need your help."

Yeah, I know, a headstone isn't the most cheerful of images to start a post. But this one is a personal highlight in that we finally found it.

It goes like this: This is a photo of the headstone for my greatgrandfather and greatgrandmother. When they died, they were buried here, the family plot, although it was originally that of Jonathan Young. Anyway, that piece of the old place still belongs to the family, and most of the family call it Aunt May's place, who was my great aunt. Me, with my far greater knowledge of family history (oooh, yeaah) call it the Young place, where Aunt May ended up. Her grandson, my second cousin, John, ended up with the key to the gate at the foot of the road (if you can call it a road. To me it looks like a cattle path) and although we asked nicely (he lives in our town), he was oddly reluctant to part with the key. We also told him that Aunt Nina wanted to see the cemetary, as she had never been there, it takes 4-wheel drive to get there, that and a lot of swearing. I pointed out that Aunt Nina is in her 80s and the sooner done the better, but he said "HE would take her", which I knew would never happen. Still no go, and finally it dawned on us that this guy is a prison guard at the local prison, and I think the cop mentality prohibits them from handing over the key to anything. We appealed to his mother, who pointed out we were hardly going to carry off a family relic, and he reluctantly handed it over. His whole rationale was this lame story about "kids" tearing up the road with 4 wheelers, etc., which had to sound lame even to him. When he gave it to N, he had to promise to not copy the key. Anyway, we went to the home of our uncle, who likewise wanted to go, and when he heard about the key, he said he wanted to take a look at it, and with our tacit permission, he disappeared for 20 minutes or so, then returned with the key. Such a farango for access to a graveyard in the middle of nowhere! ANyway, I photoed all the stones, and made a verbal tape of the headstones, and my only regret is that at that time we didn't have a GPS to take readings of the spot.

In the end, I turned over the list of grave readings to the local and state archives, and if I want to, I can go again for the coordinates.

Oh yeah, when N returned the key to John, John actually asked if N had copied the key, to which N answered, quite truthfully, no. And Aunt Nina was tickled pink, and she died two years later and is buried next to my parents.

In a better graveyard.

Bumper sticker: "Protect the Earth. We don't have a spare."

Time Marches On

Maggie is doing much better, not 100% yet, but certainly 95%. She has been spoiled by all the attention, and now, if she doesn't want to go into the barn or the stall, she just flops down and gives you this soulful look. We are still giving her pain meds, as she is still favoring that right hip, but less so as she now runs and plays with Raven, runs to us, etc. The only real thing I've noticed is that she won't climb the stairs to the upper porch, but Raven doesn't like to do so much either, what with her awful hip dysplasia. They are both getting TriFlex which seems to help them both in joint flexibility. If they continue to stay off the upper porch, maybe I can risk putting the new cushions out (whoo hoo).

I got a new camera today! It is a Nikon D40, my first DSLR. I have a Sony point and shoot digital camera, but I have always preferred the controls of f-stop, aperture, and speed, and it is hard to work around a fully automatic camera and still come up with the photos I want to make. So hopefully more photos here, henceforth.

I am continuing to lose weight, and hopefully my cholesterol/triglycerides are going down as well. I really miss eating breads, so I indulge some of the time (dfffffffffr =cat paw on keyboard) with a sandwich or hot dog bun. I still have plenty of weight to shed, and then the life-long struggle to keep the weight off. Inside, in my own mind, I'm still the size and shape I was in high school, mirrors not withstanding. But when I look in the mirror, I see my mother. Only 5 inches taller. My cousin, whose mother was my mom's twin sister, looks like my mother too, more than her own mother, who was very frail. I am still fighting the passing of time, with regular appts. for hair color and cut, and trips to the dermatologist (thank all the gods that I stayed out of the sun, even during all those years in Miami), and to the manicurist. I won't wear old lady clothes (polyester brightly printed blouses, elastic waisted pastel pants) but pretty much stick with jeans and a t-shirt, or designer silk blouse, vest, suede blazer, etc. for more formal wear. When I worked, no one cared what we lab rats wore as long as we wore a white lab coat over it. It was a big day when I threw out all my lab coats, sort of like the day we burned the mortgage.

My daughter wrecked her car, and got it back last week, after having to drive a rental for a week. They gave her a Chrysler PT Cruiser. What a piece of junk! Every time she got out of the car a panel for the seat fell out; the thing had the get up and go of a sewing machine, and handled like a farm tractor. It wasn't cleaned either, stank of cigarette smoke (despite being told all their cars were smoke free -- maybe they meant smoker free?) and she found, among the trash in the door pocket, a set of keys on a caribiner. I once found a Mont Blanc meister*** fountain pen in a rental, under the seat, so I told her to check, you never know what will turn up. Anyway, she is way more careful driving now, so her insurance rates don't go up.

This is a pretty lame post, with no social redeeming value, but I am determined to do one post a week, minimum. I have found many of the blogs that were written regularly have either disappeared altogether, or go for months without a post, much as mine did. I understand how something new (hobby or whatever) sort of just fizzles out after a while, like I did with golf, mainly because I suck badly at it (12 strokes for 2 hits -- I CAN'T EVEN HIT THE DAMN BALL!) But writing is something I still enjoy, and if it sounds too banal for you readers, just pass on by. You won't hurt my feelings (much, sniff).


My last birthday.

Bumper sticker for the day: As long as you're on the phone, call your mother!!