let your weakness become your strength

 Subject: let your weakness become your strength
> 
> http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2014286/Get-patch-How-tigers-left-tails-legs-scared-protective-mother-bear.html
> 
> If she hadn't been a "single mother" she wouldn't have charged....
> 
> While working at the women's prison, an offender asked me what scared me most about finding a new job. I said I was old. She gave me the game show buzzer sound and told me I was experienced. I said I'd been at the same job for so long maybe I couldn't do anything else. Buzzer sound again....she told me I had endurance and loyalty. 
> 
> The point was, she was a felon  and looking for housing and work would be a major challenge for her. She'd been incredibly young when incarcerated and had no outside work history. But inside the prison, she'd consistently held high status positions (which is very risky because jealous inmates can undermine them and spread false accusations pretty easily.) Having been in prison was going to be her strongest selling point. One of the college professors had just been talking to her about it...the college classes have since been cancelled.."In this economic climate."
> 
> This isn't a hard thing to do...just ask yourself what is the most scary thing about this problem? For the bear, the risk to her cubs was the one thing she could not allow, and it probably saved her life. When I went to grad school, I was certain my brain had "rusted shut" in the 11 years I'd been working in factories. So I studied more than I did in undergrad and kept my personal life out of drama mode, which had been a big distraction "back in the day." My grades weren't that impressive, but I made it through while keeping my kids housed and fed. Whatever scares you, let that fuel your success. KIM
> 
> "I refuse to be driven crazy by these events."

A Christmas Poem by Yukon

A Christmas Poem

To pee,
Or not to pee?
That is the question.
Why bring
an evergreen
tree
into the house
if not for ME?
and my investigation...
What's with the bitter apple spray
And Baby-saver screen?
What rates all this attention?
You hang last year's beads
and baubles upon the branch
I'll give it what it needs,
My very own addition.

The End. Yukon

animated story--true

quick story..  ..back in the day, our family lived with my aunt's family  for several months as we were between houses. Us 4 cousins "younger" kids (10 thru 5) were sitting quietly at the dining room table  watching through the door to the kitchen stove  where our mothers were cooking something mysterious.  We voted and my younger brother was elected to "interrupt" and spy on the upcoming meal..  ..he heard my aunt say, "Do you think we should tell them what it is?" and my mom said, "If we do, they won't eat it."  

Now I had eaten beef tongue,  what could be worse than eating a steer's tongue?!?!  

My brother got in trouble for leaving the table,  but he did get a good look in the skillet. "It's long strips," he said. "and they're all curled around like octopus arms."  

We were silent. Sure enough, my aunt brought the skillet to the table  and my brother was right....they were trying to feed us OCTOPUSES!!! We bowed our heads and thanked the Lord,  but we wished for once the prayer had been longer.  However, as we passed our empty plates to my aunt, my little brother burst into tears. "Please don't make us eat octopus," he wailed.  

My aunt was horrified,  "Oh, honey. No. We would never make you eat octopus! This is beef heart. It's good, I promise you."  We were so relieved that it came from a cow  and not an octopus, that we cleaned our plates and asked for more.  (It was a cheap cut of meat that they couldn't have served to their husbands, no matter how lean times had become.)    

past dog visits

When I was a young'un, my little brother and I rode our ponies all over the world. Since there were no cell phones or GPS, our adults never knew exactly where we were. We'd just leave a note on the kitchen table and head out....sometimes things came up and we changed directions and there was basically no way anyone would know (raspberries ripe!?!@? Let's GO!!) There were times when mom would call around the neighborhood and some lady would see us riding by. Either she would yell out the door, or call the next woman on the party line to give us a holler cause our mom wanted us for some reason (prolly in trouble related to the non-accomplishment of one chore or another)

On many of these adventures, a little golden standard Pomeranian would tag along. His name was Sparky, and if he got tired, he would put his paws on my (or my brother's) foot and bum a ride on the pony, with a hike from us and his collar. Then he would scurry around back and stand on the pony's rump with his legs acting like shock absorbers, no matter how fast or rough the horse ran.

Being a farm dog, back in the day was a rough life, full of huge animals, loud machines, poor food and basically no medical attention, but there was a freedom in it that today's pets will never know. That freedom came at a high price and for Sparky, it came with a calamitous but quick end. He was one of many in a long line of hard living dogs that passed beneath our stroking hands, but he was much missed and long remembered.

This week, Sparky's reincarnation arrived at my home in Indianapolis, complete with sex change. We're calling "him" a variety of Sparky derivatives--Spunky, Sprocket, Sparkles, plus Missy and Foxy. Nothing seems to get a response, but she is very affectionate and submissive (although playful) with the other dogs. Took her to the vet's. She's intact and chipless. In some ways, she's also clueless--such as, taking food off my plate as though it belongs to no one...not coming when called, heading straight for Rural St. when she escapes the house. That being said, she's pretty smart....figured out going to the back yard whenever the pack heads out. Has staked out the pillow area of the big bed, so she doesn't get stepped on or rolled over in the snooz-a-thon melee. She also is submissive with the tomcat although Precious still swats her daily for random irritations.

She has glued herself to my side, even though I'm not convinced she should live here. I'm sure she'd have a home the first day on the HSI show room floor. Although Gretchen and she play very nicely and Spark-ette can run circles around her, I still worry. One snap from Gretchen and this small dog would not need a vet. She's a brain oriented dog, not a heart oriented dog. She'd do great at agility if I knew enough to train her. And she's cute as heck. Hubs is all for keeping her, but I feel like she should belong to my younger brother and his kids. Think I'll give him a call.

Over the weekend I went to an Angora Specialty rabbit show in OHio, almost to West Virginia.

But REALLY people, When a man who knows your are going to a bunny show gives you $300 and says have a good time--he should expect you to come back with more bunnies than you had before, should he not? Why act so surprised?

(Rant warning) Blew out a rear tire at 70 mph. Got a tow truck and took me to Wal-Mart. They refused to put an identical tire on my vehicle because of a sticker on the door stated another size tire.....Uhm, these are not original rims. They offered to sell me 4 of the stated size....uhm, these are not original rims. Even called the customer service boss and asked if I could sign some waver--NO YOU CANNOT. So I was towed, possibly over the boarder to West Virginia to a shop that wasn't open, for a really nice guy to come open up and put on a tire for me in the middle of his Saturday morning and only charged me $60 for a used tire that was in better shape than the three on my truck right now...support your local service people...(end of rant)

I got to meet a few people from FaceBook, which was nice. I did buy Lisa's two girl bunnies... they'd already been shown and the one I liked straight away had placed first and the other a fifth, but watching the showing let me know that doesn't mean a hoot, really. (Sorry to the show folks, but you know an 8 week old rabbit will grow into some "perfection standards" and out of others).

I'm thinking of calling them Tabouli and Tahini. I don't know my colors well enough to tell what they are. The paperwork says chocolate aguti for both, but one is a bit tan and the other a bit grey/brown in the under coat. They are little things, under all that fluff, only 8 weeks old. I have them in quarantine in my kitchen pantry. They seem pretty well adapted to rabbit life. What more can you want? They seem about like 8 year-old human girls, sort of giggly and full of questions, all legs and pigtails. Very curious about the world and not afraid of dogs. 

Lisa had never brushed them, to see how mat-prone their wool would be. Tahini had a few more mats, but they were based in veg. matter and pulled apart by finger and comb, no scissors needed. They were starting to shed and the amount of the comb-out was pretty impressive. Since they'd never been brushed, I was very happy with how well they sat still. Even though they weren't happy with being flipped, no blood was drawn.

Hubs is beginning to be resigned to my "new hobby", but really, I think I've shown remarkable restraint....In over a year, I've only gone from 3 rabbits to 6 (now 8), and kept them all on half of the back porch....hasn't he seen my Rabbit Palace floor plan?  He's got to know there's an explosion in the making, right?

splashin safari

about a week ago, Hubs and I scored a LARGE kiddie pool, sort of oblong squarish, with a hole in it. Someone had attempted to patch it by melting some other substance onto the originally punctured plastic and only succeeded in making the hole bigger--about the size of a quarter. We figured we could patch it with silicone and a piece of scrap plastic.

However, before Hubs got around to trying it, (he did find a laundry soap bottle to cut apart for the patch attempt), I found an old stained carpet and a leaky waterbed mattress that a neighbor had thrown out. Finally, today, (since it'll be too doggone hot tomorrow) I raked an area of the dog's yard to get all the sticks, bones, and chewed up pop bottles out of the way, laid down the carpet, dragged in the kiddie pool, and tossed in the water bed mattress.

I found the leak in the mattress and cut an "H" shape on the side with the leak. Then I wrapped the edges of the cut mattress over the pool, using the corners of the mattress where the corners of the pool lined up. After a half hour battle with the garden hose, I started to put water in. Yukon loves to be sprayed with the hose. He fights the water stream and gets absolutely drenched. Sal and Gretchen....well...not so much. Yukon jumped in and lay down without much in the way of prompting....Sal had to be ordered and coerced. She did as ordered, but only endured and slunk away the second my back was turned....(Maybe she thought it was the much dreaded "bath outside" that ETB is always grumping about.)

I bet they enjoy it much more tomorrow when it's 100+ degrees! Loving my pups, KIM

street rescue

Kudos to Max's mom. I called her yesterday after scooping a schnauzer out of traffic near 38th and Post. She was familiar with all the vet clinics on that side of town and directed me to the closest for a chip-check.

I'd forgotten what a pain in the patootie intact male dogs can be....he's constantly air humping everything.....Yukon is generally "above it all" but occasionally gets riled, just a snark, nothing exciting--so far. Mostly Yukon considers this a game since he has to lay like a sphinx to play bitie-face with the little guy. Of course Gretchen is on lock-down with crate, gate, and rotate due to her past dog-aggressive behavior. Sally is playful when there's no resource involved (her person, her food, her bed) then it's snark-city.

I've checked-4-chip (nada) put adds in Craigs List, Indy Lost Pet Alert, Facebook and made posters to put all over the area where I found him. So far, I've gotten 4 calls. One for a poodle/schnauzer mix that's brown....but cut like a schnauzer. (Uhm, NO) One from a sister-in-law of someone who lost a dog, but can't describe the collar. (Have your sister-in-law call me.) And one from 38th and Shadeland....that I actually went to see. (At 10:30 pm, which was stupid.) The dog barked one alert-bark as the woman approached my car--in the dark--with three children and a woman in a wheelchair. The woman said this dog was much bigger than hers. Her child said, "Well, mama, he probably ate since he left." Which made me laugh. They thanked me profusely for driving all that way even though it wasn't their dog. I wished them luck and went home. So, we can scratch "Tiger" and "Scruffy" from the list of potential dog names....

My little head had just touched the pillow, when my phone rang again. I let it go to voice mail and tried to get some sleep. Gretchen was in her crate and the only one cooperating with my plan. Sally was constant snarking at the intruder's every move. He was chasing Precious, a cat who's never backed down from a charging pit bull in her life, and barking like a lunatic whilst doing it. Yukon kept changing sides of the bed, trying to get a break from his sexual tormentor. At 4am, I put Sally, Yukon, and "Axel-Schnitz" in the yard for a pee, then Gretchen. Then I put Yukon out. Gretchen in her crate, Sally in the bedroom, and Axel-Schnitz in Yukonorama's crate....where he yipped for release so constantly that I eventually fell asleep listening to him. At 7:30 he was still yipping at about the same rate. We did another pee-pee rotation and I finally got everyone fed. (Apparently, he's never eaten dry food before. A little water on it made all the difference.)

I actually resisted the temptation to call my late-night caller first thing this morning....not only irked at the late call, but also my poor night's sleep--thanks to Axel-Schnitz.....When I did call back, her voice mail was full....right now? Oh, he's sacked out at my feet, schnauzer-snoozing.

He is a cutie, and a happy-go-lucky little guy, always smiling. He lays froggy-style and even manages to *sit* froggy-style, which doesn't look at all comfy, but Max's mom assures me that it's typical Schnauzerly behavior. Hope his true owner calls soon, or I'm going to take him to HSI.

Retchin' Gretchen

Yesterday, Gretchen did not touch her food.  Not one sniff.  Then she laid around all day and actually peed in the house!!!  Also not her usual behavior.  Mom found a chewed on package of Castor Bean Seeds and FREAKED OUT.  Took her punkness to the vet.  X-rays showed an obstruction in her tummy.  Only half full, of a non-metal "something" (Personally, I suspect it's underwear.)  Better than castor beans, which are highly lethal and have no antidote.

Doc gave her a relaxant to stop the vomiting (every time she drinks) and advised Metamucil, VERY thick....with a turkey baster.  So we got some Metamucil and a turkey baster and Dave tried mixing it up 4:1...it set up like joint compound and could not be forced into the baster even with a spoon--Laughed harder than the situation warrented.  I haven't laughed that hard since the blown-in insulation debacle of 2004.

When it was firmly set, it peeled off the bowl like a rubber pancake.  We threw it in the trash, afraid to let it go down the sink, and started over.  This time we had a nice thick pudding consistency that made gross farting sounds as we loaded the turkey baster.  We hauled Gretchen out to the back porch and put the loaded turkey baster into her throat for blast #1.  She didn't know what was coming, but still managed to squirm.  The second blast met with firm resistance and a clamped jaw, but she really didn't have a whole lot of fight left.

Dave made her a bed covered in towels-just in case.  About 4am, I freaked out since Gretchen was not in her lovingly made nest, but she'd just climbed down to the floor so she could lay in front of the fan.  This morning she woke me to a mild retching sound...just water (from the toilet?  All other water sources removed, far as I can tell.)  I had to carry her outside, not because she was weak, but because she wanted to hide under my desk.  Outside she gave a small urp of yellow liquid and made no effort to poop.

So, back to the vets we go, have a call in at 8:45 to arrange the "next step" which will likely be surgery...and it's already cost over $200.  Just when I thought life had a chance of getting boring....guess not.

pups @ play

This morning I let the dogs out and was later puzzled by hearing Sal, my 12 year old "hefty" beagle mix doing an occasional yip. When I went to check it out, Yukon was digging for coal like no tomorrow. Sal was near him, egging him on. I thought that he was near a bone she'd burried, or something. 

But then Gretchen zoomied at Sal, got a play bow and yip, before dashing past in a narrow miss. I know this cool weather is bringing out the pup in everyone, but that made my day, seeing the old gal "romping" (in place, while Gretchen bounced around like a maniac) with her young-pup pal. 

Gretchen is 4 years old (?) Sally raised Gretchen when I brought her in off the street. Of all the dogs Gretchen has attacked over the years--Sally has been exempt. I watched the romp-fest for several minutes, ready to jump in if Gretch got over excited, but they did really well. While things were still good, I called the girls in for breakfast. It was just a wonderful gift to see my old Sally-dog enjoying life.

Oddly enough, there have been over 7,000 visits to my blog....wow....did want to touch base with everyone....I'm back to working part time.  So, will be writing again soon....catching up on house and yard work that had been sorely neglected.  Yukon is his boy-stirrous self.  We're down to three dogs, but making up for it with Rabbits.

Wes-Q-Wabbit

Drove four hours to Chicago to pick up a 4 year old doe....she's an English angora, (chocolate aguti, I'm told) that had been a "home school learning project"......well, the kids are ready for college soon and didn't think they could have the bun in the dorms...(I would have chanced it, but hey, I'm like that--took a doggone PARROT to married housing in grad school for gosh sakes!) They were the nicest folks, included the hutch and a bag full of pet-store toys, remaining feed and bedding....the doe "Thlay" (one of those Watership Down lagomorphisms for FUR--which seems fitting) was "purring" as I held her in the kitchen--but that was before I abducted her and put her in an alien space ship (my car) for the decades long (4 hours return) stasis flight.

Now this new planet has her old familiar hutch (which Stella, my Rex doe is already chewing to bits) and lots of new rabbit smells. Occasionally a bizzarro big-head rabbit (freshly shorn Louie) will periscope up to look inside the hutch, and that almost bald girl rabbit (Stella) is trying to chew her way into the hutch--she seems to be motivated by curiosity more than aggression. 

(seriously--and I feel I should clarify that the above was supposed to be humourous.....This little rabbit is the CUTEST thing...sort of lavendarish with brown tips. The daughter said she'd gotten the rabbit when it was two weeks old (which I doubt)....when she was 13...so maybe the rabbit is 5 years old...but been alone all this time, which I chose to consider as her quarantine period. I put the new hutch in the rabbit's pantry....may have to raise it up on large soup cans (full) to get it out of Stella's gnawing range. Thlay is eating her regular pellets with a sprinkling of mine like there's no tomorrow and doesn't know what to do with fresh thistle leaves....the homebuns will demonstrate thistle nomming technique.

Last year I wrote a dog's-eye view book about a group of dogs that break a dogfighting ring (since we humans in this state are doing such a good job of wrist slapping-wink-wink....and I've been toying with the idea of a rabbit's-eye-view novel....didn't have a good plot until now...."Meet the New Bunny"....talking animal books are so fun....and you'd think they'd make for good movies....or something....but I'm working on the rabbit language and behavior descriptions

Anyhoo, I was filming the other rabbit's response to this intruder, when Louie and Stella sat in the middle of their floor--hugging, and staring at the new hutch. Louie shifted away just a little and Stella curled around him under his chin in the cutest hug ever!!!! I got it on film...if you can stand my off key singing, I'll try to post it....

I'm changing her name to "Faye"--hope she doesn't have an identity crisis....

Long, off topic, and cuss alert

So, sometimes you just have to push a boulder uphill, even though you know the grade is dangerous and you'll likely be squashed flat in the end, still you just have to try.  I had left work in the middle of Tuesday night with a sniffle, dripping, fever/chills, raw throat and the occasional dry cough....the lady at the Integrity desk told me I had earned 40 hours ATO which I was now free to take since the Christmas peak had ended.  Fine.  I talked to my manager, punched out, and signed the booklet and even walked the extra half mile to do so, even though I was getting more bleary by the minute, once I finally gave up and decided to go home.  It's like admitting it, makes it so.

I stopped by a drugstore and asked the pharmasist what concoction he suggested...he had no opinion, "There's basically only 5 active ingredients, take your pick.  They're all about the same"  which was what had my hazy head spinning to begin with when I asked him for his suggestion....I ended up with the only one that was for a runny nose, since most of the others said "congestion" and my issue DEFINITELY wasn't that.  I also got some Kleenex with aloe lotion since my nose was already raw and some juice.  Then I saw these cute little twinkle battery candles, and it was another hour before I made it home.  Then next 16-48 (in reality around 30) hours were a blur of bathroom, juice drinking, blanket wrestling, sweat, and a phone call to let work know I wasn't coming in on Wed. night.  I knew my points were adding up, but I wasn't worried because I had ATO.  I made it to work on time the following night even though I still felt crumbly, with my badge, robotussin, knee pads and juice.  I wanted to eat lunch in the car so I could take my next dose at 10:30, right on time, well, half an hour late.  I was working my butt off and concentrating pretty well, so well that break was 20 minutes over before I realized it.  I worked until the end of break and went to the after-lunch meeting.  When it was over, I asked my manager if I could take my break and he just shook his head.  "Go, go.  Get out of here."

That's when I discovered that I'd locked my keys in the truck.  I couldn't take my robotussin at all, let alone an hour late.  My cell phone was in the truck, so I had to use the company phone with all the buttons--free but almost impossible to use.  Dave said he'd bring my extra keys, but it would be a while.  "Just be here before 4:30" I pleaded.  About that time, I was reminded that it was pay day....oh yeah...it's so hard to remember since I come into work on Thursday night and it's Friday when I leave and payday is Friday.  It didn't feel like a friday.  It felt like a nameless day.  Although my lunch was also in the truck, along with any change I might have used in the vending machine, the coffee machine is free and I had some trail mix in my coat pocket.  When I went back to work we were doing a "sweep" which is every bin in order, basically without moving, non-stop, counting.  The bins are slowly being repaired and I found fewer defective bins, which means I only had to count once.  Believe it or not, I was making rate and making up my non-rate from before lunch.  At break, Dave had still not dropped off my keys.  When work was over, I was right on time clocking out, then leisurely put away my equipment.  I decided to blow off getting my check.  It would still be there the next day.  Dave had not only dropped off my keys but had gone the millionth mile and brought in my primary set from the locked truck, so both sets were at the security desk, weighing about 5 pounds.  My badge wasn't letting me out the turnstyle.  I was ready to cry.  What more could go wrong?

Since I had to walk the extra half mile to get clarification on my non-functional badge, I might as well pick up my check.  Most others had already left and there were only two lines remaining...5 people in one line and 30 in the other.  I just started laughing as I joined the long line.  Of course, of course, the K-O line was longer than any other...every week I joke that I should have switched to Terrell when I had the chance.  (The older men I work with think it serves me right for not wanting to take his name....which wasn't the point, actually, it's all so arbitrary, it just makes me laugh.)  So, after all this waiting, they couldn't find my check.  The guy looked through the alphabetized list like 8 times--there are a bunch of Martins.  Nope.  I had to go wait in line at the problem desk.  Sure enough, they had it.  No reason given.  "Anything else I can help you with?"--his ritual "Fries with that Burger" comment got him in trouble this time.  "Yeah, can you tell me why my badge isn't working?"

Turns out I had been fired at 12:01that morning, due to my accrued points.  Laughter bubbled up.  Fan-fucking-tastic!  I haul my sick carcass off of it's deathbed, force myself to come in, lock myself out of my truck, have no food or phone, work myself ragged and they dick around with my check before firing me.  How bloody cool is that?!?!  He offered to let me out with his badge and in some slight of hand, kept my badge and all my info cards....since he put me out the East Door, I had a half mile walk outside the building to get to my truck.  I didn't even open my check.  I was crying and watery mucus was flowing down my lip and I started coughing, which wet my pants a little.  And I couldn't wipe my face because my lips were cracked and my nose was raw and who were these fuckers anyway with both hands full of keys and my check and my knee pads  when my fever cycle shifted to chill.  I called Dave and I was hickupping and couldn't really see well enough to drive so I had to pull over.  It was 4:30 am. and the interstate was pretty active.  Getting in a wreck was the last thing I needed.

I did decide one thing though...I was going to sleep until Integrity opened and call and ask why my hours of ATO hadn't been applied to my sick days...at least they could explain why and possibly reinstate me if I really kissed butt.  Truthfully, I was too wired to go right to sleep.  I'd slept plenty in the last few days, enough for a week or two at least and I set my alarm clock for 10 am.  When I woke up, Dave was gone.  He'd taken Gretchen with him, wherever he was.  I called Integrity after searching the web quite a while to find their number (remember the problem-solver guy took my info cards when he snatched my inoperable badge.)  Finally, I got ahold of "steve" from Bombay.  I sounded like crap and he was very businesslike but kind.  He suggested that I go to the Amazon Staffing office and speak to them....which sounded like a crappy idea to me.  Sure, I WANT to drive back to Whitestown in the middle of MY night to beg for my job back....but I called Dave, who was on a quick trip to the woods with his dog to check on the camper (recent high wind storms may have blown it off it's blocks--again.)  He thought it was a great idea--and also, could I mail something he left on the table, special delivery overnight, at the post office?  Sure.

So, I climbed back on the interstate, my life one big spiral around a giant sink hole, consisting of concrete overpasses, flying buttresses, swooping on-ramps and multiple lanes.  I'd driven this path so many times in so many levels of altered consciousness, sleep deprived, exhausted, overworked, too sore to shift without pushing down on my knee with my hand, highly caffeinated, singing with the radio, and depressed as heck when my truck spit up her transmission.  It was almost a relief to think that maybe this would be the last time I'd be traveling this mobious strip of pavement.  I still felt crumby, my fever was lower, though.  I wanted to ask for the night off, but thought that would be pushing my luck.  When I got to the Integrity office, all the lights were out.  LUNCH...."Can I help you?"  It was some random guy in an Integrity vest, just like 50 others milling around with nothing to do, only this one seemed sort of territorial about me touching the office door knob when there was obviously no one in the front entryway.  Turns out, he was the person I needed to see.  He had about three options for me to be reinstated, including getting a doctor's excuse which would wipe out my points from the last day and a half, and get me excused for an additional 3 days--what with my weekend, I wouldn't need to be back to work until Tuesday at 6pm....and frankly, maybe seeing a doctor was a good idea anyhow....so "I'll take door number "Doctor's Excuse" to block, Jerry....."  He gave me a new info card with the call in number on it, and arranged for a new ID badge to be waiting on me come Tuesday.  And just like that, I wasn't fired, after all!  All I had to do was to get a doctor's excuse and go to the post office....

It was amazing.  I went to the post office and the tractor ad didn't need any special delivery, because it wouldn't get there any faster anyway, and would still make it in time for the classified's deadline.  The doctor at Direct Care was pretty flaky asking ME what antibiotic I wanted to take....(eerily like the pharmacist at 4am...why do these people spend years in school and thousands on tuition if I'M the one who has to decide?) but I was encouraged to know that somewhere along the line, I'd lost 14 pounds.... At the bank, I did not have my check in my wallet, only two empty stub packets...I didn't even waste time wondering if my check was lost, or in another pair of pants, or how long it would take to re-issue...sure enough, it had been on my front seat all this time, in plain sight with my charging cellphone, for any causal passerby to abscond with....but they hadn't, and I thanked them for allowing my haphazard life to continue wending it's way towards whatever conclusion might be in store.  Turns out I still had $4.05 in my checking account, before the deposit.  But I might have beat the clinic charges that I had just put on my debit card....so we're talking nick of time on that little issue.  I found some food at a little buffet that I'd feared was out of business...but my throat was too raw to do more than drink hot tea and hot-n-sour soup.  My spurt of energy was waning, as I hadn't really slept yet, so I skipped the CVS and went home.  There the siren-song of my velvet/micro-suede/mock sheep-fleece blankies were doing a Valkyrie  Operetta in the original Nordic tongue.

Don't get me wrong.  I love my blankets, they are soft and warm and light weight, sort of warm clouds, but I'd been huddled in them so much that all my body aches and chills had tangled in my mind and sort of been blamed on my matress, actually. So I was surprised that they seemed to float up around me and welcomed me into their seductive embrace.  The dogs climbed onto the bed an settled around me like guardian angels, warm ones at that.  It was about 4 in the afternoon and I hadn't had any medication in the previous 24 hours.  I slept like the dead until Dave got home around 8 o'clock, just in time for an hour's nap before he had to go to work.(crazy man!)  I lay there listening to him snore and giving him gentle hugs so I wouldn't wake him, but hopefully give him happy dreams and restful sleep.  I got up after a while and fed the dogs, let them out, let them in.  Checked my Face Book account.  Replied to a few.  Dave hadn't been to CVS either, and I had about 22 minutes until they closed to do it myself.  No problem.  I jumped into my trusty little truck and up the street we went.  The pharmacy had my items ready to go and I picked up some more juice.

I hadn't gotten the dogs anything for Christmas.  (It had been hectic, let's face it.  I was still wrapping presants on Christmas day with my mother-in-law's help while everyone else was still at church....)  There was Krogers, lit like a beacon just off shore, calling to me;  "Fresh beef bones!"  I knew the doggies wanted one....and hey, the buns needed some kale, right?  I actually bought healthy food and only spent about 25 dollars, another christmas miracle.  Back home with all my grocery bags, I shuffled through the door, keeping dogs in and porch cats out, without dropping anything.  But there is a stump family tradition (amongst the women at least,) of needing to rush to the bathroom first thing upon returning home.  I dropped everything in the kitchen and put Yukon out the back door to keep him out of the bones and put up the baby gate to keep Sal and Gretchen out of the kitchen for half a minute...except that, I used the rabbit's gate to shut out the dogs, giving them free run of the kitchen while I was gone....I returned to the scene of two very happy bunnies, upto their little rabbit necks in plastic bags, happily helping themselves to all the kale their little bunny hearts could desire.  Hilarious!  I grabbed the movie camera.  Precious came to check them out, possibly smelling the beef bones.  The buns just gave her a sniff and kept stuffing their little bunny gullets.  Now, if I can only get the movie downloaded and shared in some form!  It's probably the best movie I've ever made.

So much rambling, so little said.  I've taken up way too much of everyone's time but considering how little you've heard from me in the last two months, it all balances out.  I'm feeling much better, but have some inner ear infection that makes me stagger like a drunk when I rise quickly--no dizziness, tho--which is odd.  Smell ya later.  KIM