What to say....LIFE!
Woke up very early, with the sunrise, on Sunday morning out in the country, Massey Ponds. Sat outside with Snoopy and watched the sun come up and light up the wild pampas grass that is growing in the front yard. Thought I should go in and grab the camera and try to capture that picture but knew I probably couldn't. So still and so beautiful and almost quiet with just the few winter birds left.
Watched some deer walking through the side woods heading down to the front to grab a drink and cross the road into the woods at Massey Gardens. For once, Snoopy didn't attempt to chase them....in the funny way she mimics them...the deer/kangaroo hop we call it. Another thing you'll just have to visualize.
Then the near silent, peaceful Sunday morning was shattered with Papa in the house talking to himself and gun shots in the distance (it is hunting season) and the sounds of a hunter walking in the side woods. But I think my deer are safe in the woods at Massey Gardens. No hunting there......more to come.
Contented Grammy
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
GUMBO
OK, let's face it, I'm just not a prolific blogger on the screen that is. I'm always writing up things in my head naturally when no keyboard is available. I've just got entirely too much life going on ALL THE TIME to write routinely and I apologize,,,,but then again there's only three of you. But regardless of the amount of readers, I shouldn't disappoint those that are looking!
I do have topics in my handy, dandy notebook (I watch entirely too much Blues Clues!) but as usual, I have some catching of a myriad of things--hence the Gumbo title,,,,it's a little of everything, exactly what Gumbo is.
I haven't written about the P's lately.
They are growing and growing and growing.....Perfect is so dang cute and he so wants to be the special boy still. He loves Precious and thinks about and of her and includes her in what he's doing. But sometimes when I'm spending alot of time with her, he'll just come over and climb up in my lap and want some extra attention. I do try to divide my time equally but he's getting so independent and can just sit still and watch a movie whereas Precious needs constant attention all the time. So I do feel like she gets more of Grammy than he does.
But then again, he had me soley for almost two years. I think it's just kind of bittersweet for him realizing that he's not the only baby in town anymore. That first child syndrome, oh I know it so well.
Precious got a new bike recently.
Her look just says it all.
Then there's Papa who suffers greatly (in his own mind) on Wednesdays!! Oh, the ignoring he endures from me. But to get back at me, he ropes my P's into working for him and they love helping. Usually, it's just picking up sticks in the yard but a few Wednesdays ago, he handed out brooms to everyone and they started their acorn removal (those darn squirrels).
It's like herding cats he says. I thought it was hilarious and they were all so dang cute and working so hard--not working together, they each had their own agendas but it eventually got swept up.
Papa's been a little irritable of late. What with the moving and rehabbing and undue, excesses we've suffered all summer. A couple of months ago as we were driving to the hardware store in the country, he offhandedly said "I think I had a heart attack last night." Needless to say, my worrying went into overdrive. No, he didn't want to go to the hospital, yes, he felt fine now but did promise to contact his doctor on the following Monday. Well, Monday arrived and he was in denial that there was even an issue. I finally had to take matters into my own hands and called both his son AND his supervisor and told them what had taken place and how he was acting. He was furious with me but I could handle that as long as he called his doctor. He did, went right in for an examination and tests and had a stress test the following week and everything came up a big fat negative. Don't get me wrong, this was wonderful news BUT why did he experience the symptoms he did? That was never explained...to me....satisfactorily.
But back to the moving and rehabbing....SO we moved in three weekends in July into the house we were rehabbing across the road from the house we lived in so our "buyers" could move into our old house. HOWEVER, they had yet to procure their loan BUT had sold their house, so were in a predicament. We agreed (under my duress) that they could come in and rent for two weeks until their loan went through.
Well, two weeks turned into two months and one thing led to another, etc. etc., yadda, yadda, and bottom line, we believe they did NOT get their loan but wouldn't fess up. We heard a gamit of excuses of why they "didn't" want to go through with the deal now. "Too far to drive to work", "thinks property is worth less than the agreed upon (signed contract stated) price", "can't drive his show cars on the gravel road" (will mark up the tires), "there are mice in the garage where his show cars live" (hey, it's the country---the garage has seen feral cats, birds, possums, raccoons, and other unnamed wildlife in the nine years we've lived out there).
The excuses just went on and on and on. Papa was just boiling and finally gave an ultimatum that they had to be out by October 1, we were not landlords and were not renting that property, it was a purchase or nothing. Papa also contacted a lawyer and is still wavering back and forth whether to pursue legal action.
The month of September was quite unpleasant in Masseyville and relations were cold with our "renters" who by this time, had acquired a dog from the Humane Society that we later learned, destroyed several things in the house, i.e., the tile in the sun room was just shredded.
Rehabbing went on as usual at Massey Ponds. The painting of the ceilings in the hall, dining room, and kitchen was finished. The walls in the dining room were also painted. Some landscaping was also completed in the front using a pile a rocks that were nearby and we accumulated a huge bowl full of Indian arrowheads in the process which was kind of cool. All the time we were working, we were shooting glares across the road at people that seemed to hide out on the weekends when we were out there. It was quite uncomfortable. No wonder Papa thought he had a heart attack.
AND at this same time, Snoopy went running off into the fields one afternoon and came back limping. She limped around and stood with her leg in the air for about three weeks before I hauled her into see her vet who proclaimed a torn cruciate ligament (i.e., blown knee) in her left hind leg. Not a complete tear and she may recover without surgery if I keep her on "bedrest" for about four weeks and she takes an anti-inflammatory daily.
Bedrest, seriously! It's a dog! So complicating matters more, I decided to keep her at the city house, inside. For the next two weekends, I would drive down to the country during the day, driving back home every night to stay with Snoopy. I could not contain her in the country---the house is a construction site and the yard and woods and fields are wide open. In the city, she was more comfortable with a dog bed in each room and a fenced yard when she needed to go outside.
It's been three weeks since her vet appointment and she has improved considerably. So much so that last weekend, I did take her to the country for 24 hours and she did fine---for the most part---although she was limping a little on Saturday night when I brought her home.
Hopefully, we have avoided the surgery bullet but time will tell. She's been off her meds for a week now as well but the vet said she could resume taking them on an as needed basis if she starts limping frequently. So we hold our breath every time she flies off the back porch after a squirrel but other than that, bedrest is working out for her and she's healing.
OK, time to cover the Gumbo and let it percolate.....maybe I'll add more to it tomorrow.....
Chef Grammy
I do have topics in my handy, dandy notebook (I watch entirely too much Blues Clues!) but as usual, I have some catching of a myriad of things--hence the Gumbo title,,,,it's a little of everything, exactly what Gumbo is.
I haven't written about the P's lately.
They are growing and growing and growing.....Perfect is so dang cute and he so wants to be the special boy still. He loves Precious and thinks about and of her and includes her in what he's doing. But sometimes when I'm spending alot of time with her, he'll just come over and climb up in my lap and want some extra attention. I do try to divide my time equally but he's getting so independent and can just sit still and watch a movie whereas Precious needs constant attention all the time. So I do feel like she gets more of Grammy than he does.
But then again, he had me soley for almost two years. I think it's just kind of bittersweet for him realizing that he's not the only baby in town anymore. That first child syndrome, oh I know it so well.
Precious got a new bike recently.
Her look just says it all.
Then there's Papa who suffers greatly (in his own mind) on Wednesdays!! Oh, the ignoring he endures from me. But to get back at me, he ropes my P's into working for him and they love helping. Usually, it's just picking up sticks in the yard but a few Wednesdays ago, he handed out brooms to everyone and they started their acorn removal (those darn squirrels).
It's like herding cats he says. I thought it was hilarious and they were all so dang cute and working so hard--not working together, they each had their own agendas but it eventually got swept up.
Papa's been a little irritable of late. What with the moving and rehabbing and undue, excesses we've suffered all summer. A couple of months ago as we were driving to the hardware store in the country, he offhandedly said "I think I had a heart attack last night." Needless to say, my worrying went into overdrive. No, he didn't want to go to the hospital, yes, he felt fine now but did promise to contact his doctor on the following Monday. Well, Monday arrived and he was in denial that there was even an issue. I finally had to take matters into my own hands and called both his son AND his supervisor and told them what had taken place and how he was acting. He was furious with me but I could handle that as long as he called his doctor. He did, went right in for an examination and tests and had a stress test the following week and everything came up a big fat negative. Don't get me wrong, this was wonderful news BUT why did he experience the symptoms he did? That was never explained...to me....satisfactorily.
But back to the moving and rehabbing....SO we moved in three weekends in July into the house we were rehabbing across the road from the house we lived in so our "buyers" could move into our old house. HOWEVER, they had yet to procure their loan BUT had sold their house, so were in a predicament. We agreed (under my duress) that they could come in and rent for two weeks until their loan went through.
Well, two weeks turned into two months and one thing led to another, etc. etc., yadda, yadda, and bottom line, we believe they did NOT get their loan but wouldn't fess up. We heard a gamit of excuses of why they "didn't" want to go through with the deal now. "Too far to drive to work", "thinks property is worth less than the agreed upon (signed contract stated) price", "can't drive his show cars on the gravel road" (will mark up the tires), "there are mice in the garage where his show cars live" (hey, it's the country---the garage has seen feral cats, birds, possums, raccoons, and other unnamed wildlife in the nine years we've lived out there).
The excuses just went on and on and on. Papa was just boiling and finally gave an ultimatum that they had to be out by October 1, we were not landlords and were not renting that property, it was a purchase or nothing. Papa also contacted a lawyer and is still wavering back and forth whether to pursue legal action.
The month of September was quite unpleasant in Masseyville and relations were cold with our "renters" who by this time, had acquired a dog from the Humane Society that we later learned, destroyed several things in the house, i.e., the tile in the sun room was just shredded.
Rehabbing went on as usual at Massey Ponds. The painting of the ceilings in the hall, dining room, and kitchen was finished. The walls in the dining room were also painted. Some landscaping was also completed in the front using a pile a rocks that were nearby and we accumulated a huge bowl full of Indian arrowheads in the process which was kind of cool. All the time we were working, we were shooting glares across the road at people that seemed to hide out on the weekends when we were out there. It was quite uncomfortable. No wonder Papa thought he had a heart attack.
AND at this same time, Snoopy went running off into the fields one afternoon and came back limping. She limped around and stood with her leg in the air for about three weeks before I hauled her into see her vet who proclaimed a torn cruciate ligament (i.e., blown knee) in her left hind leg. Not a complete tear and she may recover without surgery if I keep her on "bedrest" for about four weeks and she takes an anti-inflammatory daily.
Bedrest, seriously! It's a dog! So complicating matters more, I decided to keep her at the city house, inside. For the next two weekends, I would drive down to the country during the day, driving back home every night to stay with Snoopy. I could not contain her in the country---the house is a construction site and the yard and woods and fields are wide open. In the city, she was more comfortable with a dog bed in each room and a fenced yard when she needed to go outside.
It's been three weeks since her vet appointment and she has improved considerably. So much so that last weekend, I did take her to the country for 24 hours and she did fine---for the most part---although she was limping a little on Saturday night when I brought her home.
Hopefully, we have avoided the surgery bullet but time will tell. She's been off her meds for a week now as well but the vet said she could resume taking them on an as needed basis if she starts limping frequently. So we hold our breath every time she flies off the back porch after a squirrel but other than that, bedrest is working out for her and she's healing.
OK, time to cover the Gumbo and let it percolate.....maybe I'll add more to it tomorrow.....
Chef Grammy
Monday, September 21, 2009
PARTY CENTRAL
Ok, I promised to talk about this some months ago......We have lived in the country house full time and now part time for a total of over nine years. We live on a private road and we are the first house on this one lane gravel road and have five other neighbors that live past us. All the neighbors on our road have to drive past our house and one property behind us has a road easement that runs through the side of our property as well.
For nine years, we have all co-existed in our little rural neighborhood. Some of the kids, FS included, have acted up now and again with a little delinquency (stealing gas cans out of garages, shooting off 10,000 bottlerockets, etc.) but nothing too extreme....until this past spring.
The house behind us that has to drive through our property has been an issue (again this may be addressed in a future blog) now and again (can we say bad roommate, bomb making and meth lab and out of control canines). Anyway, they had resolved these issues and the couple and their two children have lived there quietly ever since...until this past spring.
One April Friday night, there were a substantial amount of cars heading to this house....all driving by our house and we figured they were having a party. Did I mention a substantial amount of cars? 100+ going down a one lane gravel road and not only going. Going and coming and meeting each other on this one lane gravel road with no shoulders with a considerable amount of backing up and down the road and into our driveway since we were the only driveway between the road they were going/coming from and the beginning of the road another 1/8 mile back. We also had our share of people pulling into our driveway looking for the party.
Papa and I figured this was possibly an end of the school year party that the kids behind us were having and we tried our best to be patient, until the wee hours of the morning when everyone had left and we had our quiet country night (early morning) back. Don't get me wrong, we were both pretty rowdy as teenagers and probably attended many parties such as these and we were giving these kids leeway by not complaining about this huge blow-out party. Kids will be kids and these parties were fun when we were young.
Then the next weekend, it happened again.....and the next weekend, AGAIN and the crowds seemed to be getting rowdier and rowdier. We could hear fights and lots of M-F this and that being yelled about. Music that was shaking our windows, etc. We got into the habit on the morning after the weekend party, walking up our main and side roads, collecting beer cans and kegger cups and making a nice pile at the beginning of their drive, trying to get the point across. HA.
We have tried over the years to talk to "MOM" about issues (her dogs running loose, attacking our's on our property and killing some feral cats in our barn). She is quite frankly a loose cannon...she is hostile, immature, and prone to risky behavior....driving as fast as possible up and down the road in front of our house when we are outside to stir up as much dust as she can. Tailgating when we are driving out or in, etc. We've shared stories with the other neighbors and everyone has their own tale of woe where she is concerned.
We heard through the grapevine that "DAD" had moved out because "she's crazy" and was living with another neighbor (single guy) farther up the road. We stopped both "DAD" and his roommate and complained about these parties and begged for them to talk to her about this before someone was forced to call the sheriff on them.
We found out something interesting......the son who was the host of the parties was just a freshman in high school. We were so frustrated hearing that, counting on 3 more years of this party behavior before he went away to college. But we were also told that he was extremely intelligent and is taking college courses along with his high school work. Good, we thought, we aren't dealing with a delinquent that doesn't care about anything, he has alot to lose.
We also found out the daughter is only 13 and this is concerning because of the things we were hearing, seeing, etc. during these parties. The kids seemed older than freshman age, there was alot of alcohol, and their mother seemed to be contributing to this. She drove around for several days after one party with MILF painted on her jeep windows with blue puffy paint until "DAD" insisted she remove that (he told us).
Anyhoo, we felt like our hands were tied. First, realize that we are 8 miles from the nearest town and not in their jurisdiction. We are the responsibily of the county sheriff's office. We have had dealings with them when FS was having some "issues" several years ago and they had problems finding our house. I'm not being dramatic, they would call during their trips out, sometimes more than once, asking for more specific directions on where we were.
When we were having issues with the above "bad roommate of the aforementioned neighbor", the DEA people asked why we didn't call before and our answer: "You all seem to have such a problem finding us, we were just trying to ignore what we were seeing because if we got involved and got into a situation, the calvary wouldn't get to us in time to help. We're on our own out here."
The other reason we felt like our hands were tied was by this time, we are living in the city through the week and only out there on the weekends...which meant we had two empty properties and we didn't want any revenge vandalism, retaliation etc. to happen while we were away through the week.
BUT after six weeks of parties, we were ready to scream or stab ourselves in the eyes with scissors. We worked hard all week and headed to the country on Fridays to rest and relax in the peaceful country but our weekends were far from peaceful. So six weeks of parties and then there was a gap of two weekends and just when we started to relax---here they come again---we had four more weekends of them....10 weekends of parties in all.
Then we heard, when school let out, that the parties started up through the week and the other neighbors called the sheriff finally and the parties stopped. ALL SUMMER LONG it was peaceful and quiet.
Then last Friday night, guess what. Yep, here they came, car after car after car and window rattling music and screaming and MFing. So we now live at Massey Ponds off the main road and could still hear and see all that was happening.
We had just gotten some bad medical news to do with Snoopy (I'll go into later), she was sick to her stomach from some medicine, it was late, we were tired, and we are living uncomfortably in a half-rehabbed house and Papa had reached the end of his patience. He picked up the phone to call the sheriff to finally put a stop to this weekend madness. His theory is now we need to have this house and this kid's parties known as the place where the cops are always called and discourage attendance. We had been patient all Spring but we could not endure every weekend, all Fall long, with these out of control parties going on. Enough was enough.
The first dispatcher he got ahold of accused him of having a feud with the kid's "MOM" and wasn't going to do anything about it. I was composing a letter in my head for the boss of the sheriff's office when Papa's cell phone died and he called back and got a second dispatcher. He finally got the message through that there is no feud, he was trying to relay that we have tried to talk to this kid's mom and got nowhere. Our main concern was the underage drinking and living on windy country roads that these kids were going to kill themselves or someone else driving home and wasn't there enough of these types of accidents in our county?
The second dispatcher was much more empathetic and said he would relay the information on and someone would call him back (see what I mean about we're on our own for an emergency). So about 15 minutes later, the first dispatcher called back and talked to Papa some more and said she would send someone out. Thirty minutes later (it's about 1 a.m. by this time and party is in full force), we see a sheriff's car drive down the road and right past their drive and on up the hill. Great, he doesn't know where he's going. He turned around and came back to our drive and sat there and we were telepathicly telling him to turn off his car and just listen and he could hear where he should be going. Finally he did this and then drove back up the road to Massey Gardens and backed in the driveway and sat there.
Unbelievable. What was he doing? Waiting for us to walk over and point him in the right direction. We couldn't believe he was just sitting there but about 10 minutes later, here come 2 more police cars----AW, waiting for back-up. Yeah, there were entirely too many party-goers for one officer, we agreed with him on that.
But wait, all three of them line up in the road in front of Massey Gardens and get out of the car and proceed to chat among themselves. Then we heard someone at the party yell, "There's cops out there on the road." Great, we thought, now they have plenty of time to hide their beer and get respectable. The element of surprise was completely gone.
Finally, the three cars started moving down the road to the party house and it got real quiet back there. For an hour Papa and I sat on the front porch with the sick Snoopy and heard nothing whatsoever. Except cars did continue coming down the road headed to the party not knowing what was awaiting them down the road. We giggled every time another one would turn in that direction.
Then we hear squealing tires and screeching around curves and someone tearing down the gravel road...It was "MOM". She must have have summoned from wherever she was at 2:30 a.m. to come home and deal with the situation and she was hot. Papa and I were so hoping her temper would get the best of her and she would get arrested for something. (NOTE: We had watched "DAD" leave about 6 p.m. with his fishing boat for an all night fishing trip---something he does quite often.)
We don't really know what happened after that. The police were there for about another 45 minutes and then they left. An hour later (close to 4 a.m.) "MOM" left but none of the kids' cars drove out---we suspected they were threatened not to be driving any more that evening.
"MOM" was pretty hot the rest of the weekend. She tore up the road and down the road going who knows where. Honking her horn as she passed houses (Massey Gardens and the drive to Massey Ponds), we think she's not sure who called the law but suspects it was us or the tenants in MG. Our theory is if that's the most she's gonna do, honk her horn and drive crazy, then we can deal with her and when the cars start driving in again, we'll just get on the phone earlier. Like we said, this house will become known as the place not to go for a big blow-out party from now on---the cops are always called.
Party-Pooper Grammy
For nine years, we have all co-existed in our little rural neighborhood. Some of the kids, FS included, have acted up now and again with a little delinquency (stealing gas cans out of garages, shooting off 10,000 bottlerockets, etc.) but nothing too extreme....until this past spring.
The house behind us that has to drive through our property has been an issue (again this may be addressed in a future blog) now and again (can we say bad roommate, bomb making and meth lab and out of control canines). Anyway, they had resolved these issues and the couple and their two children have lived there quietly ever since...until this past spring.
One April Friday night, there were a substantial amount of cars heading to this house....all driving by our house and we figured they were having a party. Did I mention a substantial amount of cars? 100+ going down a one lane gravel road and not only going. Going and coming and meeting each other on this one lane gravel road with no shoulders with a considerable amount of backing up and down the road and into our driveway since we were the only driveway between the road they were going/coming from and the beginning of the road another 1/8 mile back. We also had our share of people pulling into our driveway looking for the party.
Papa and I figured this was possibly an end of the school year party that the kids behind us were having and we tried our best to be patient, until the wee hours of the morning when everyone had left and we had our quiet country night (early morning) back. Don't get me wrong, we were both pretty rowdy as teenagers and probably attended many parties such as these and we were giving these kids leeway by not complaining about this huge blow-out party. Kids will be kids and these parties were fun when we were young.
Then the next weekend, it happened again.....and the next weekend, AGAIN and the crowds seemed to be getting rowdier and rowdier. We could hear fights and lots of M-F this and that being yelled about. Music that was shaking our windows, etc. We got into the habit on the morning after the weekend party, walking up our main and side roads, collecting beer cans and kegger cups and making a nice pile at the beginning of their drive, trying to get the point across. HA.
We have tried over the years to talk to "MOM" about issues (her dogs running loose, attacking our's on our property and killing some feral cats in our barn). She is quite frankly a loose cannon...she is hostile, immature, and prone to risky behavior....driving as fast as possible up and down the road in front of our house when we are outside to stir up as much dust as she can. Tailgating when we are driving out or in, etc. We've shared stories with the other neighbors and everyone has their own tale of woe where she is concerned.
We heard through the grapevine that "DAD" had moved out because "she's crazy" and was living with another neighbor (single guy) farther up the road. We stopped both "DAD" and his roommate and complained about these parties and begged for them to talk to her about this before someone was forced to call the sheriff on them.
We found out something interesting......the son who was the host of the parties was just a freshman in high school. We were so frustrated hearing that, counting on 3 more years of this party behavior before he went away to college. But we were also told that he was extremely intelligent and is taking college courses along with his high school work. Good, we thought, we aren't dealing with a delinquent that doesn't care about anything, he has alot to lose.
We also found out the daughter is only 13 and this is concerning because of the things we were hearing, seeing, etc. during these parties. The kids seemed older than freshman age, there was alot of alcohol, and their mother seemed to be contributing to this. She drove around for several days after one party with MILF painted on her jeep windows with blue puffy paint until "DAD" insisted she remove that (he told us).
Anyhoo, we felt like our hands were tied. First, realize that we are 8 miles from the nearest town and not in their jurisdiction. We are the responsibily of the county sheriff's office. We have had dealings with them when FS was having some "issues" several years ago and they had problems finding our house. I'm not being dramatic, they would call during their trips out, sometimes more than once, asking for more specific directions on where we were.
When we were having issues with the above "bad roommate of the aforementioned neighbor", the DEA people asked why we didn't call before and our answer: "You all seem to have such a problem finding us, we were just trying to ignore what we were seeing because if we got involved and got into a situation, the calvary wouldn't get to us in time to help. We're on our own out here."
The other reason we felt like our hands were tied was by this time, we are living in the city through the week and only out there on the weekends...which meant we had two empty properties and we didn't want any revenge vandalism, retaliation etc. to happen while we were away through the week.
BUT after six weeks of parties, we were ready to scream or stab ourselves in the eyes with scissors. We worked hard all week and headed to the country on Fridays to rest and relax in the peaceful country but our weekends were far from peaceful. So six weeks of parties and then there was a gap of two weekends and just when we started to relax---here they come again---we had four more weekends of them....10 weekends of parties in all.
Then we heard, when school let out, that the parties started up through the week and the other neighbors called the sheriff finally and the parties stopped. ALL SUMMER LONG it was peaceful and quiet.
Then last Friday night, guess what. Yep, here they came, car after car after car and window rattling music and screaming and MFing. So we now live at Massey Ponds off the main road and could still hear and see all that was happening.
We had just gotten some bad medical news to do with Snoopy (I'll go into later), she was sick to her stomach from some medicine, it was late, we were tired, and we are living uncomfortably in a half-rehabbed house and Papa had reached the end of his patience. He picked up the phone to call the sheriff to finally put a stop to this weekend madness. His theory is now we need to have this house and this kid's parties known as the place where the cops are always called and discourage attendance. We had been patient all Spring but we could not endure every weekend, all Fall long, with these out of control parties going on. Enough was enough.
The first dispatcher he got ahold of accused him of having a feud with the kid's "MOM" and wasn't going to do anything about it. I was composing a letter in my head for the boss of the sheriff's office when Papa's cell phone died and he called back and got a second dispatcher. He finally got the message through that there is no feud, he was trying to relay that we have tried to talk to this kid's mom and got nowhere. Our main concern was the underage drinking and living on windy country roads that these kids were going to kill themselves or someone else driving home and wasn't there enough of these types of accidents in our county?
The second dispatcher was much more empathetic and said he would relay the information on and someone would call him back (see what I mean about we're on our own for an emergency). So about 15 minutes later, the first dispatcher called back and talked to Papa some more and said she would send someone out. Thirty minutes later (it's about 1 a.m. by this time and party is in full force), we see a sheriff's car drive down the road and right past their drive and on up the hill. Great, he doesn't know where he's going. He turned around and came back to our drive and sat there and we were telepathicly telling him to turn off his car and just listen and he could hear where he should be going. Finally he did this and then drove back up the road to Massey Gardens and backed in the driveway and sat there.
Unbelievable. What was he doing? Waiting for us to walk over and point him in the right direction. We couldn't believe he was just sitting there but about 10 minutes later, here come 2 more police cars----AW, waiting for back-up. Yeah, there were entirely too many party-goers for one officer, we agreed with him on that.
But wait, all three of them line up in the road in front of Massey Gardens and get out of the car and proceed to chat among themselves. Then we heard someone at the party yell, "There's cops out there on the road." Great, we thought, now they have plenty of time to hide their beer and get respectable. The element of surprise was completely gone.
Finally, the three cars started moving down the road to the party house and it got real quiet back there. For an hour Papa and I sat on the front porch with the sick Snoopy and heard nothing whatsoever. Except cars did continue coming down the road headed to the party not knowing what was awaiting them down the road. We giggled every time another one would turn in that direction.
Then we hear squealing tires and screeching around curves and someone tearing down the gravel road...It was "MOM". She must have have summoned from wherever she was at 2:30 a.m. to come home and deal with the situation and she was hot. Papa and I were so hoping her temper would get the best of her and she would get arrested for something. (NOTE: We had watched "DAD" leave about 6 p.m. with his fishing boat for an all night fishing trip---something he does quite often.)
We don't really know what happened after that. The police were there for about another 45 minutes and then they left. An hour later (close to 4 a.m.) "MOM" left but none of the kids' cars drove out---we suspected they were threatened not to be driving any more that evening.
"MOM" was pretty hot the rest of the weekend. She tore up the road and down the road going who knows where. Honking her horn as she passed houses (Massey Gardens and the drive to Massey Ponds), we think she's not sure who called the law but suspects it was us or the tenants in MG. Our theory is if that's the most she's gonna do, honk her horn and drive crazy, then we can deal with her and when the cars start driving in again, we'll just get on the phone earlier. Like we said, this house will become known as the place not to go for a big blow-out party from now on---the cops are always called.
Party-Pooper Grammy
Friday, September 18, 2009
Clearing My Head of Short Spurts
Lots of short spurts to clear out of my head so I can get back to writing blogs of substance!!
First there is such a thing as Wine Ice Cream.
Who knew? Earlier this summer Tiny Sun and I had to go try some.
Delicious.
Also delicious.
My upside down tomato plants are producing fast and furiously. I'm getting handfuls of the sweet cherry's every day but so far only a couple of the Big Boy's...I'm having a competition with squirrels now and find myself picking them before they are all the way red and finishing their ripening in the kitchen window. If I wait too long, those long-tailed rats beat me to them. What's even worse, is that they take a bite out of them and leave them to lay and rot in the yard. GRRRRRRRR.
I met a celebrity last month. One of my favorite authors, J.A. Jance, came to town and I attended her "book reading", bought her new book and stood in line for the autograph. A thoroughly entertaining evening for me and I got a picture as a bonus surprise (although my eyes are closed!).
Among my elder group, we talk frequently about dreams, flying in dreams, and, of course, we love to party. With that said, I thought it was so amusing when Aunt Cracker bought the following books for Precious for her 1st birthday (yeah, I know that was way back in April, but I had it on my list to blog about!!).
Rehabbing Update: Things are rolling along. We have finished the kitchen cabinets and have moved along to painting the dining room and kitchen (on my list for this weekend). Last weekend we worked on a bit of landscaping until this Grammy's behind swelled up again (guess I'm not that healed after all). But rain is forecast for the weekend, so I think it will be a perfect time for getting that painting done.
Ok, that gives me a bit more space to fill with other things.
Have a wonderful weekend....Grammy
First there is such a thing as Wine Ice Cream.
Who knew? Earlier this summer Tiny Sun and I had to go try some.
Delicious.
Also delicious.
My upside down tomato plants are producing fast and furiously. I'm getting handfuls of the sweet cherry's every day but so far only a couple of the Big Boy's...I'm having a competition with squirrels now and find myself picking them before they are all the way red and finishing their ripening in the kitchen window. If I wait too long, those long-tailed rats beat me to them. What's even worse, is that they take a bite out of them and leave them to lay and rot in the yard. GRRRRRRRR.
I met a celebrity last month. One of my favorite authors, J.A. Jance, came to town and I attended her "book reading", bought her new book and stood in line for the autograph. A thoroughly entertaining evening for me and I got a picture as a bonus surprise (although my eyes are closed!).
Among my elder group, we talk frequently about dreams, flying in dreams, and, of course, we love to party. With that said, I thought it was so amusing when Aunt Cracker bought the following books for Precious for her 1st birthday (yeah, I know that was way back in April, but I had it on my list to blog about!!).
Rehabbing Update: Things are rolling along. We have finished the kitchen cabinets and have moved along to painting the dining room and kitchen (on my list for this weekend). Last weekend we worked on a bit of landscaping until this Grammy's behind swelled up again (guess I'm not that healed after all). But rain is forecast for the weekend, so I think it will be a perfect time for getting that painting done.
Ok, that gives me a bit more space to fill with other things.
Have a wonderful weekend....Grammy
Friday, September 11, 2009
Do You Remember Where You Were?
I sure do and will never forget. I was at work at the airplane factory. Large manufacuring complex that I work at. Papa works for the same company but at a different, mostly white collar, complex. This made a big difference later in the day.
Darling Daughter was at the restaurant she manages, opening up and watching tv and she made the first call to me, asking some odd questions. Then she explained what she was watching. I was stunned. Then the phones in my department started ringing off the hook. Family and friends calling into my co-workers, asking if we'd heard. Had we seen. We were pretty much in the dark with no television or radios but we were starting to hear plenty.
I stayed on the phone with DD this entire time, trying to explain to her what she was seeing and describing to me. I was trying to explain it to her because she had called me, her mother, wanting me to tell her what was happening. Wanting me to say, it wasn't as horrible as what she was seeing. Wanting some sort of reassurance that our world wasn't about to end. Trying to explain it somehow to ourselves.
Rumours started circulating around the office that we were about to "go dark". Did I mention we were a fighter jet/bomb manufacturing complex and a "target" on "bad people's radar". So I hurriedly explained to DD what may happen in this case and she was supposed to go to the country house and retrieve FS, who stilled lived at home at the time and was attending high school. She needed to get to her brother no matter what and they needed to stay together with SIL and the pets until Papa or I could get to them. Papa was in a different complex and would be free to leave but I would be locked down since I was in the manufacturing area.
A little bit later we were informed that we were locked down. No one was allowed to enter or exit our complex. The gates were locked and the security guards were increased on each gate. The Air Guard would have been ready on the adjoining complex. That was protocol.
And that's the way we remained until about 5 p.m. We still hadn't witnessed anything on television or heard radio reports. We just had the heresay from the calls we had received from our family and friends. We really couldn't imagine what was happening. It didn't seem real to us until we were able to witness it ourselves later that evening.
It was one of the most frightening days I've lived through. And I was sitting in the Midwest. I was not in New York, or Washington, or PA. I can't imagine the horror those people experienced.
Two years ago, Papa and I and DD and SIL all journeyed to New York and I remember while on Liberty Island, we looked toward Manhattan and wondered what people, tourists like ourselves, thought when witnessing what they did that day. I can't begin to entertain what the people who were closer experienced. Unimaginable.
I'll always remember where I was that day.
Grammy
Darling Daughter was at the restaurant she manages, opening up and watching tv and she made the first call to me, asking some odd questions. Then she explained what she was watching. I was stunned. Then the phones in my department started ringing off the hook. Family and friends calling into my co-workers, asking if we'd heard. Had we seen. We were pretty much in the dark with no television or radios but we were starting to hear plenty.
I stayed on the phone with DD this entire time, trying to explain to her what she was seeing and describing to me. I was trying to explain it to her because she had called me, her mother, wanting me to tell her what was happening. Wanting me to say, it wasn't as horrible as what she was seeing. Wanting some sort of reassurance that our world wasn't about to end. Trying to explain it somehow to ourselves.
Rumours started circulating around the office that we were about to "go dark". Did I mention we were a fighter jet/bomb manufacturing complex and a "target" on "bad people's radar". So I hurriedly explained to DD what may happen in this case and she was supposed to go to the country house and retrieve FS, who stilled lived at home at the time and was attending high school. She needed to get to her brother no matter what and they needed to stay together with SIL and the pets until Papa or I could get to them. Papa was in a different complex and would be free to leave but I would be locked down since I was in the manufacturing area.
A little bit later we were informed that we were locked down. No one was allowed to enter or exit our complex. The gates were locked and the security guards were increased on each gate. The Air Guard would have been ready on the adjoining complex. That was protocol.
And that's the way we remained until about 5 p.m. We still hadn't witnessed anything on television or heard radio reports. We just had the heresay from the calls we had received from our family and friends. We really couldn't imagine what was happening. It didn't seem real to us until we were able to witness it ourselves later that evening.
It was one of the most frightening days I've lived through. And I was sitting in the Midwest. I was not in New York, or Washington, or PA. I can't imagine the horror those people experienced.
Two years ago, Papa and I and DD and SIL all journeyed to New York and I remember while on Liberty Island, we looked toward Manhattan and wondered what people, tourists like ourselves, thought when witnessing what they did that day. I can't begin to entertain what the people who were closer experienced. Unimaginable.
I'll always remember where I was that day.
Grammy
Thursday, September 10, 2009
PERFECT'S BIRTHDAY PART TWO
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You all didn't think the pancake breakfast was the extent of Perfect's birthday celebration did you?!
Well, the following weekend, Perfect and his best buddy, Sesame Street Girl had a joint MONKEY party.
Perfect and Sesame Street Girl are born one week apart and have been friends since the beginning.
Partners in crime all the way.
So it made perfect sense to combine their birthdays since they basically have the same friends that would attend both.
And a good time was had by all.
Later....Grammy
You all didn't think the pancake breakfast was the extent of Perfect's birthday celebration did you?!
Well, the following weekend, Perfect and his best buddy, Sesame Street Girl had a joint MONKEY party.
Perfect and Sesame Street Girl are born one week apart and have been friends since the beginning.
Partners in crime all the way.
So it made perfect sense to combine their birthdays since they basically have the same friends that would attend both.
And a good time was had by all.
Later....Grammy
PERFECT's BIG 3!
I'm a little late on this blog. Perfect turned 3 on August 15 and he's well on the way to being potty-trained. Wonderful milestones.
We started the morning off with a birthday pancake breakfast on our own CARS plates (he was insisting on a CARS party).
Then complete fascination over the idea that the servers at IHOP KNEW IT WAS HIS BIRTHDAY and came over to sing.
Then since DD and I had Perfect all pumped up, it was off to the photographer's studio for a professional record of the event.
You all will remember the last trip to the studio.
Well, a complete 180 this trip.
It's amazing what starting the morning with pancake faces does to one's mood.
Happy Birthday you Perfect Boy!
Your Lovin' Grammy
Thursday, August 27, 2009
An Older Fall
As I was writing my last blog, I mentioned an incident that happened at work that I still cringe at when remembering.
Two years ago April/Mayish timeframe, I was sitting at work and the fire alarm sounded. Not to be distressed, this was just a drill. I wonder about the point of these work disaster "drills" we have at the airplane factory. They announce them over the PA speaker days in advance. They post signs on all the doors so coming and going, you'll know a drill is planned and exactly what day and time it is to occur. We receive emails, etc. and if the weather should become inclement on drill day, so as not to confuse us any, they just cancel the drill. Who wants to go outside for a fire drill during the rain. And have a tornado drill when storms are in the area?---won't happen. My co-workers might confuse a drill for the real thing and chaos would ensue (or so the powers that be think).
Anyway, the fire drill alarm sounded so like the sheep we all are, we started heading out the door to our designated meeting spots in the parking lot. Looking forward to some time outside on a beautiful sunny morning, we all moved to the exit doors yelling to friends and just chatting away (reminescent of high school hallways between classes). No other time is our entire building on the move at the same time; about 2000 of us are in the building, so it is general pandemonium.
Our parking lot has been recently asphalted and is divided into various sections for reserved parking (upper management), handicapped spots in several areas by the various entrance doors, visitor parking, etc. For the most part, the lot is labeled and marked accordingly except for one particular area in the middle, right past the handicapped parking and before the visitor parking, there is an elevated area that resembles a sidewalk--a walkway between these two parking areas. What makes it different from a sidewalk is the lack of curbs. It gradually rises on one side and then sort of drops off on the the other side.
Visitors have complained about stumbling over this area coming from their lot and a co-worker of mine fell there a few years ago during bad weather, breaking his knee. But nothing was ever done about it. When walking from the parking lot to the building, the elevated area is painted a bright yellow to call attention to it. When walking from the building to the parking, there is no attention whatsoever called to the drop off.
Can you see where I'm going with this story. Yes, as I was walking out for my fire drill, chatting and visiting with my co-workers, not paying any attention whatsoever to where I'm walking--definitely not looking down. I walked right up on the elevated walk and walked right off where my ankle just turned completely sideways and down I went. In the middle of the morning, in front of about 2000 of my co-workers. Down on the ground. Of course, everyone hurries to my side. I was in horrible pain and just wanted to sit there a few minutes before trying to get up, thinking I would be OK with a short breather.
However, during our fire drills, we also have firemen, paramedics, ambulances, etc. on site and immediately two paramedics who had seen my stumble, came running with their black medical bags. I assured them I would be fine and should be able to stand in a minute or two when the pain subsided. They explained to me that I was on company property, during a company event, and my fall had been witnessed by untold number of people (yeah, I didn't need to be reminded about that!), and so they had no choice, nor did I, except to bring the stretcher, load me into the ambulance, and take me to the Medical building to get checked out. By this time my supervisor was on also on hand telling me not to argue, just go and get checked out.
So they loaded me onto a stretcher and like the Queen of Sheeba (I wasn't about to lay down on the stretcher, I sat up), I was toted across the parking lot to the ambulance (would they have thought about bringing the ambulance to me....NO).
Anyway, I was still in considerable pain and in addition, had skinned my knee when I fell and it was also bleeding. My handlers and I arrived at the ambulance. They had given me an ice bag for my ankle and another one for my knee so I was sitting up on the stretcher holding ice bags on the two injuries and being lifted into the back of the ambulance. I think there was an issue with me sitting up on the stretcher and them misjudging the space which resulted into them ramming my head into the top of the ambulance, just about knocking me off the stretcher STILL IN VIEW OF THE AUDIENCE OF MY PEERS IN THE PARKING LOT. They finally got me into the ambulance, gave me a third ice bag for my head and with me begging them to not use any lights and sirens, drove me to the Medical building.
To end this long story, I had a severe sprain (deep bone bruise), and had a cast of some sort on for several weeks, on crutches for six weeks, P.T. several times a week for six weeks but I finally healed.
Also, now in the parking lot between the visitor and handicapped area where the asphalt is elevated is a very decorative, metal, ornamental railway on both sides of the elevation. Resembles a bridge railing over a babbling brook in a garden somewhere. It definitely calls attention to the elevation now, prevents any stumbles over this area, and yes, EVERYONE knows the reason for the (Grammy) Memorial Walkway. I'm sure the story will be told and retold through the generations of workers at the airplane factory when someone asks, "hey, what's with that bridge-thing in the parking lot".
You can just call me Clutz!
Two years ago April/Mayish timeframe, I was sitting at work and the fire alarm sounded. Not to be distressed, this was just a drill. I wonder about the point of these work disaster "drills" we have at the airplane factory. They announce them over the PA speaker days in advance. They post signs on all the doors so coming and going, you'll know a drill is planned and exactly what day and time it is to occur. We receive emails, etc. and if the weather should become inclement on drill day, so as not to confuse us any, they just cancel the drill. Who wants to go outside for a fire drill during the rain. And have a tornado drill when storms are in the area?---won't happen. My co-workers might confuse a drill for the real thing and chaos would ensue (or so the powers that be think).
Anyway, the fire drill alarm sounded so like the sheep we all are, we started heading out the door to our designated meeting spots in the parking lot. Looking forward to some time outside on a beautiful sunny morning, we all moved to the exit doors yelling to friends and just chatting away (reminescent of high school hallways between classes). No other time is our entire building on the move at the same time; about 2000 of us are in the building, so it is general pandemonium.
Our parking lot has been recently asphalted and is divided into various sections for reserved parking (upper management), handicapped spots in several areas by the various entrance doors, visitor parking, etc. For the most part, the lot is labeled and marked accordingly except for one particular area in the middle, right past the handicapped parking and before the visitor parking, there is an elevated area that resembles a sidewalk--a walkway between these two parking areas. What makes it different from a sidewalk is the lack of curbs. It gradually rises on one side and then sort of drops off on the the other side.
Visitors have complained about stumbling over this area coming from their lot and a co-worker of mine fell there a few years ago during bad weather, breaking his knee. But nothing was ever done about it. When walking from the parking lot to the building, the elevated area is painted a bright yellow to call attention to it. When walking from the building to the parking, there is no attention whatsoever called to the drop off.
Can you see where I'm going with this story. Yes, as I was walking out for my fire drill, chatting and visiting with my co-workers, not paying any attention whatsoever to where I'm walking--definitely not looking down. I walked right up on the elevated walk and walked right off where my ankle just turned completely sideways and down I went. In the middle of the morning, in front of about 2000 of my co-workers. Down on the ground. Of course, everyone hurries to my side. I was in horrible pain and just wanted to sit there a few minutes before trying to get up, thinking I would be OK with a short breather.
However, during our fire drills, we also have firemen, paramedics, ambulances, etc. on site and immediately two paramedics who had seen my stumble, came running with their black medical bags. I assured them I would be fine and should be able to stand in a minute or two when the pain subsided. They explained to me that I was on company property, during a company event, and my fall had been witnessed by untold number of people (yeah, I didn't need to be reminded about that!), and so they had no choice, nor did I, except to bring the stretcher, load me into the ambulance, and take me to the Medical building to get checked out. By this time my supervisor was on also on hand telling me not to argue, just go and get checked out.
So they loaded me onto a stretcher and like the Queen of Sheeba (I wasn't about to lay down on the stretcher, I sat up), I was toted across the parking lot to the ambulance (would they have thought about bringing the ambulance to me....NO).
Anyway, I was still in considerable pain and in addition, had skinned my knee when I fell and it was also bleeding. My handlers and I arrived at the ambulance. They had given me an ice bag for my ankle and another one for my knee so I was sitting up on the stretcher holding ice bags on the two injuries and being lifted into the back of the ambulance. I think there was an issue with me sitting up on the stretcher and them misjudging the space which resulted into them ramming my head into the top of the ambulance, just about knocking me off the stretcher STILL IN VIEW OF THE AUDIENCE OF MY PEERS IN THE PARKING LOT. They finally got me into the ambulance, gave me a third ice bag for my head and with me begging them to not use any lights and sirens, drove me to the Medical building.
To end this long story, I had a severe sprain (deep bone bruise), and had a cast of some sort on for several weeks, on crutches for six weeks, P.T. several times a week for six weeks but I finally healed.
Also, now in the parking lot between the visitor and handicapped area where the asphalt is elevated is a very decorative, metal, ornamental railway on both sides of the elevation. Resembles a bridge railing over a babbling brook in a garden somewhere. It definitely calls attention to the elevation now, prevents any stumbles over this area, and yes, EVERYONE knows the reason for the (Grammy) Memorial Walkway. I'm sure the story will be told and retold through the generations of workers at the airplane factory when someone asks, "hey, what's with that bridge-thing in the parking lot".
You can just call me Clutz!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Humpty Dumpty CRACKED
Another long absence but this time I have a valid reason, I fell......down the stairs....and.....cracked my pelvis in the back near my tailbone (which I originally thought I broke).
Let me introduce myself. Hello, I am Grammy THE CLUTZ. Plain and simple. I fall alot. They built my own little fenced walkway at work after one fall---I'll go into that more later. But back to this incident.
We got some pretty heavy storms and sideways rain on Monday afternoon and after it was finished our back porch was pretty water covered and slippery. I know it gets real slippery when wet. We were oh so careful this past winter. Papa said it has to do with my sealing it and the water pools on top.
Anyway, as I've mentioned in a previous post about my Snoopy Diva refusing to walk on wet surfaces---it had rained, therefore, she was saying no thanks to going out and using the bathroom. So I usually walk out in the yard with her and sometimes that entices her to join me--you know how we women like to potty together.
So to kill two birds with one stone, I picked up a handful of newspapers and cardboard boxes to take the recycle can, slipped Papa's flip flops on (they were handy right there by the door--albeit about 3 sizes larger than I usually wear), and I stepped on the rain-slick porch. I took about two steps and thought to myself, boy it's slippery out here, I may need to dump these shoes and the next thing that happened I was going down the steps and not under the power of my legs AND was hitting HARD on those wooden steps and landed on the concrete sidewalk at the bottom. Since my arms were full with recycling, I had no way to brace myself or catch my fall. It was important, don't you know, to maintain my grip on that PAPER.
Immediately I realized, I broke both legs, my arm, my back and my butt because everything was screaming at once. I was yelling to Papa for help, not to mention the screaming that occurred during the fall but was having no luck rousing him. He had went to the basement to watch a movie and had the home theatre blasting, just like in a movie theatre, and, of course, could not hear a bomb drop in the yard let alone my cries for help.
During all this, Snoopy is still at the top of the stairs giving me looks that said, see I told you no good could come of walking on the wet. Yes, oh wise canine, I'll never pressure you again.
I managed to crawl back up the stairs and into the back door and finally Papa heard my yelling and came running. Immediately my butt swelled on one side and turned black but we determined that the rest of my limbs were unbroken. I was just going to be black and blue and sore the next day.
I made a few phone calls later when things calmed down and determined if it was my tailbone that I had broken, that I was SOL because they don't do anything for such a break. Since I had ample supply of pain pills and muscle relaxers on hand due to my neck (which was screaming as well), I figured, I'd take some of those and call it a day.
Tuesday, I could hardly move. Couldn't get out of bed and when I finally did that, could hardly walk and sitting in a chair was out of the question. Let alone a 9 1/2 hour day which are my Tuesdays at work. So I called into work to let my boss know the situation and I went and laid down. My entire left cheek continued to swell and blacken as the day progressed and I finally put a call into the doctor who couldn't see me until Wednesday afternoon but if the swelling got out of hand, head to the ER.
What, pray tell, was out of hand? Papa was laughing when I was upright because one side was twice the size of the other. He kept saying, I can't believe how obvious that is through your pants.
I made it through Wednesday with things mostly "in hand". When appointment time neared, I grabbed a few pillows and got into the car---excruciating pain just getting in the car. Made my nest as best as I could and started slowly down the street at about 10 mph. I knew I was in trouble and I hadn't gotten off our street.
SOMEHOW I made it onto the highway and to the doctor's office without dying in a fiery car accident. Endured the office visit, x-rays and blood work (all standing) and diagnosis was a crack in the pelvis area to the left of my tailbone. Healing time about 2-6 weeks, since it's in the back, we'll treat it the same as a tailbone break and DO NOTHING. He did give me a strong anti-inflamatory for about 3 weeks and a long Vicatin prescription for pain and "call if you need more." Said the stiller I was, the better/faster I would heal and maybe by Monday I could sit in a chair. HA...it's Saturday now and I'm up to about 45 minutes in a chair and I'm going to drive myself to the Taco Bell drivethrough for lunch......maybe.
So I hurt and I'M BORED. I've read, watched movies, caught up on some old VHS tapes, slept (alot), talked and texted on the phone but I'm ready to be out and about again. I was up and doing alot yesterday and just about couldn't get out of bed this morning. Think I did too much. But that won't stop me. NO siree. This Humpty will definity be put back together again AND SOON.
In closing, I was trying to photograph my "injury" last night so you couldn't tell it was a behind (did I mention I was bored) and it didn't work so well, so I'll leave you with this tiny tidbit of a view.
and to Lana and Mr. Fun, thanks for the pretties.
A cracked Grammy.
Let me introduce myself. Hello, I am Grammy THE CLUTZ. Plain and simple. I fall alot. They built my own little fenced walkway at work after one fall---I'll go into that more later. But back to this incident.
We got some pretty heavy storms and sideways rain on Monday afternoon and after it was finished our back porch was pretty water covered and slippery. I know it gets real slippery when wet. We were oh so careful this past winter. Papa said it has to do with my sealing it and the water pools on top.
Anyway, as I've mentioned in a previous post about my Snoopy Diva refusing to walk on wet surfaces---it had rained, therefore, she was saying no thanks to going out and using the bathroom. So I usually walk out in the yard with her and sometimes that entices her to join me--you know how we women like to potty together.
So to kill two birds with one stone, I picked up a handful of newspapers and cardboard boxes to take the recycle can, slipped Papa's flip flops on (they were handy right there by the door--albeit about 3 sizes larger than I usually wear), and I stepped on the rain-slick porch. I took about two steps and thought to myself, boy it's slippery out here, I may need to dump these shoes and the next thing that happened I was going down the steps and not under the power of my legs AND was hitting HARD on those wooden steps and landed on the concrete sidewalk at the bottom. Since my arms were full with recycling, I had no way to brace myself or catch my fall. It was important, don't you know, to maintain my grip on that PAPER.
Immediately I realized, I broke both legs, my arm, my back and my butt because everything was screaming at once. I was yelling to Papa for help, not to mention the screaming that occurred during the fall but was having no luck rousing him. He had went to the basement to watch a movie and had the home theatre blasting, just like in a movie theatre, and, of course, could not hear a bomb drop in the yard let alone my cries for help.
During all this, Snoopy is still at the top of the stairs giving me looks that said, see I told you no good could come of walking on the wet. Yes, oh wise canine, I'll never pressure you again.
I managed to crawl back up the stairs and into the back door and finally Papa heard my yelling and came running. Immediately my butt swelled on one side and turned black but we determined that the rest of my limbs were unbroken. I was just going to be black and blue and sore the next day.
I made a few phone calls later when things calmed down and determined if it was my tailbone that I had broken, that I was SOL because they don't do anything for such a break. Since I had ample supply of pain pills and muscle relaxers on hand due to my neck (which was screaming as well), I figured, I'd take some of those and call it a day.
Tuesday, I could hardly move. Couldn't get out of bed and when I finally did that, could hardly walk and sitting in a chair was out of the question. Let alone a 9 1/2 hour day which are my Tuesdays at work. So I called into work to let my boss know the situation and I went and laid down. My entire left cheek continued to swell and blacken as the day progressed and I finally put a call into the doctor who couldn't see me until Wednesday afternoon but if the swelling got out of hand, head to the ER.
What, pray tell, was out of hand? Papa was laughing when I was upright because one side was twice the size of the other. He kept saying, I can't believe how obvious that is through your pants.
I made it through Wednesday with things mostly "in hand". When appointment time neared, I grabbed a few pillows and got into the car---excruciating pain just getting in the car. Made my nest as best as I could and started slowly down the street at about 10 mph. I knew I was in trouble and I hadn't gotten off our street.
SOMEHOW I made it onto the highway and to the doctor's office without dying in a fiery car accident. Endured the office visit, x-rays and blood work (all standing) and diagnosis was a crack in the pelvis area to the left of my tailbone. Healing time about 2-6 weeks, since it's in the back, we'll treat it the same as a tailbone break and DO NOTHING. He did give me a strong anti-inflamatory for about 3 weeks and a long Vicatin prescription for pain and "call if you need more." Said the stiller I was, the better/faster I would heal and maybe by Monday I could sit in a chair. HA...it's Saturday now and I'm up to about 45 minutes in a chair and I'm going to drive myself to the Taco Bell drivethrough for lunch......maybe.
So I hurt and I'M BORED. I've read, watched movies, caught up on some old VHS tapes, slept (alot), talked and texted on the phone but I'm ready to be out and about again. I was up and doing alot yesterday and just about couldn't get out of bed this morning. Think I did too much. But that won't stop me. NO siree. This Humpty will definity be put back together again AND SOON.
In closing, I was trying to photograph my "injury" last night so you couldn't tell it was a behind (did I mention I was bored) and it didn't work so well, so I'll leave you with this tiny tidbit of a view.
and to Lana and Mr. Fun, thanks for the pretties.
A cracked Grammy.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
SUMMER THEATRE AND HORSES
I didn't want you to think I wasn't having ANY fun this summer. It's not all been a summer of packing, moving, and rehabbing. Although that's been a big part of it. There has been some fun.
I started off the summer trying to attend every show of our outdoor theatre. Called the Muny, it is located in Forest Park within the STL city limits and where the 1904 World's Fair was held. Lots of history in this park and it is just beautiful and very, very big.
The Muny is unique in that besides the ticketed seats, they offer several thousand "free seats". You just have to get there early, stand in line, and grab your seat when the gates open. This works our quite nicely because if for some reason you can't go on a particular night or the weather turns bad, etc. you just blow off the night, no money lost on a ticket. Getting there early, you have to endure the last hour or so of hot sun beating down on you, but once the sun goes does, it cools off, and the show starts.
I orginally tried to organize my co-workers--the ladies--for the Muny shows but for the most part it was just me and one work friend---let's call her Mizzou Mom.
Our first hurdle was getting to Forest Park with the surrounding highway being closed (construction on it for two years and we're mid year two right now). But we armed ourselves with maps and found our way in and to the theatre. This was a two part process as this park is HUGE, so not only do you have to get TO the park, you have to manage to get to the theatre once INSIDE the park and I think the signage inside the park leaves alot to be desired.
Our first show in early June was 42nd Street---never before seen---thoroughly enjoyed although the temp was in the upper 90's (not including the STL humidity). I commented when I stood for the National Anthem while wearing light colored capris, that I hoped everyone behind me didn't think I had an accident because my clothes were soaked through and through. Mizzou Mom assured me that everyone looked the same, not to worry, and it would be dark soon.
Like I said, this show was very enjoyable. Lots of tap dancing, singing, and a good storyline to boot. Mizzou Mom and I had both came to the show different ways and left different ways but there were lessons learned that we were going to improve on for the next show. She was convinced her way rocked and I agreed to try it the next week. Another lesson learned---don't be afraid to SPEAK UP AND LOUDLY WHEN THE PERSON IN FRONT OF YOU OPENS AN UMBRELLA FOR SUN PROTECTION and blocks your view all around not to mention pokes you in the head---who brings a GOLF UMBRELLA for two for sun protection in a cramped area.
The following week, we saw Annie. Another never before seen (believe that or not) but for some reason, I know the words to "Tomorrow". This show used alot of extras (children) from the STL area, so the show was packed (and we attended all the shows on weeknights, can't imagine the weekend shows). Lots of family and friends of the extras. Weather was not quite as hot this night. And I did indeed enjoy the show. Annie lessons learned: they need more women's restrooms and Mizzou Mom's route does indeed rock and following her out was a piece of cake---making a left turn at the no left turn sign notwithstanding.
Next up was Meet Me In St. Louis. I think this was my favorite show of the season. Beautiful weather, beautiful night, good show---another very crowded show and an usher told us this was a favorite in STL. Of course it is. Also, being right after the 4th of July, there were fireworks at the end of the show. Since with all the packing and moving we did in July, Papa and I didn't get to see any fireworks display, this satisfied my fireworks viewing for the year. Lessons learned: via usher---the women's restoom on the sides of the theatre are much larger, hence the lines move faster AND Mizzou Mom found out where the programs were kept before the shows---free seat patrons don't receive programs, only the ticketed guests get these. But Mizzou Mom is such a rebel,,,,,first illegal left turns and now pilfering programs for us but why should they discriminate against free seaters and not offer them a program.
Negative lesson learned....DO NOT SEAT IN ROW ONE AGAINST THE FENCING between paid and free seats. Although, the view is much better, there is half the leg room as in the other rows and after we sat down for a few minutes, we started looking around for better options but the place was filling up fast and we couldn't move. We couldn't move pretty much the entire show. I had visions of not being able to use my legs when the show was over and I had to get up and walk. But someway, somehow, I was able to stand up and walk to the car after the show.
So it's mid-summer by this time and this leads me to my other summer fun activity that I've been participating in for some months now (actually several years overall, but the new season starts in April).
Horse Hookey. From April-September there is live horse racing at a nearby racetrack (Fairmount Park in Collinsville, IL) and several of my co-workers love to take off on Tuesday afternoons and spend time at the racetrack for Horse Hookey. We go about once a month.
They look so studious, don't they---these people take this seriously!! That's Tiny Sun there at the table. We, my co-workers and I, bring our "outside" friends along to these work events. The more the merrier is our motto or you can't have enough new friends.
So anyway our next Muny date also fell on a Horse Hookey date and MM and I thought why not. We started the day at work, rambled over to the racetrack by noon for the afternoon, and then Mizzou Mom and I headed to Forest Park for our next evening theatre performance. We met at the Boathouse restaurant, along the side of a lake and had an early dinner while watching others cruise around the lakes in paddleboats. Finally, we thought why not, let's rent a paddleboat for an hour before we head to the Muny show. We had plenty of time.
Because neither one of us are in the best physical shape and I've only paddleboated ONE time and her ZERO, it took alot out of us. Much harder than we had imagined watching others cruise languidly around the lake. First, we noticed that all the children were required to wear lifejackets BUT not the adults. When we inquired about this, the girl "loading" us on the boat, looked at us amused and said "the water's only about 4 ft. deep, if you fall out of the boat, just stand up."
Ok then, feeling much safer, we took off paddling, furiously and got about 100 feet out before our first break had to happen as we were both panting from our exertion. After a short rest, we took off again at a more moderate rate and immediately beached ourselves on a sandbar. Yeah, we needed to work a little more on our steering technique. And sure enough the water was quite shallow because in order to unbeach ourself, I had to drop my foot out of the boat and push us off the sandbar.
But we were learning by great leaps and bounds. We paddled around the various tributaries for about 30 minutes, turned around, and managed to get ourself back to the boat dock right on time without either of us having a heart attack OR falling out of the boat.
Then to the Muny for that night's show. Godspell, my least favorite of this season and that's about all I'll say about that. It might not have been the show. It was a sparse crowd though and we had good weather that evening. But for me, after a full day's activity (with the paddleboating pretty much zapping my last bit of energy), I really was ready for the day to come to an end. So I bugged out at the intermission and headed to my awaiting bed. Chatting later with Mizzou Mom, she agreed that she didn't care for that show as much either and the second half didn't improve much from the first half.
Next, we were scheduled for The Music Man. I was really looking forward to this show but alas, the night of the show, severe thunderstorms pounded the area right about the time we were supposed to be leaving for the park. After consulting with the Weather Station, it looked liked this was to be the situation for most of the evening so we bagged the show. See, utilizing the free seat system paid off for us.
Up next was Camelot and I'll rate this number two after Meet Me in St. Louis or maybe tied for second with 42nd Street. Very enjoyable show, very enjoyable night. We knew where to sit, how to utilize the intermission to the best of our ability, and how to leave the park in a very timely manner against the crowd. Perfect overall.
The last show of the season was Hairspray and neither me nor Mizzou Mom could find a good date to go to this. Both our schedules were crammed full this last week and since the shows only run 7 days, it limits us. So again, kudos for the free seat system!
So see, Grammy has been having a little bit of fun this summer and getting her some culture!!
Cultured Grammy signing off
Sunday, August 9, 2009
THIS OLD HOUSE
Ok, so we've moved over to Massey Ponds and now the real work begins. So far we've finished three bedrooms about 95%---that 5% though literally drives me crazy. I want to finish something 100% but it doesn't seem to bother Papa to leave things hanging----INDEFINITELY.
The bathroom is also running at about 90%. Showers can be taken (and it's all decorated with new carpets and curtains and accessories but there is an issue with the toilet and a leak and we're not sure how to fix this. Papa thinks he's cracked it somewhere but after a trip to Lowes's yesterday, we may have a solution. Cross those fingers.
Also, the cabinet. We had two full-size bathrooms at Massey Gardens and have had to downsize to one full-size bathroom. So I purchased a nice cabinet and additional floor shelves and after pitching alot of excess, we are seeming to fit into our one bathroom. Anyway, Papa was putting together the cabinet at the city house one day while DD was dropping off the P's and she said she called his attention to something and he subsequently blew her off.
On the following Friday, I was unloading the cabinet from the car and noticed something was off. The end cap was on the wrong end OR the door was installed upside down. When it stood right side up, the finished end cap was on the bottom but when the finished end cap was on the top, the door was upside down. I called Papa who insisted he followed the directions and all was well, "quit complaining." I mentioned this to DD on a phone call later, and she told me she brought this to his attention the previous Wednesday when he was building it and he "blew her off."
When Papa arrived at the house on Friday night, he went to look at the cabinet and kept assuring me this is what the directions told him to do....my response, "Seriously, the directions told you this is what it was supposed to look like?" He also went on to say, he didn't see anything wrong with the door. Again, "Seriously, the handle is at the bottom of the cabinet.?" (I will have to remember to take a picture of this cabinet next weekend.) As promised:
Since I'm of the "pick you battles" mindset these days (moving is hard on relationships), I told him to disregard it and I can live with how it looks. About an hour later, he found me and said "I think I see what you're talking about...why don't you empty the cabinet and I'll try to fix it." I'm also of the "Let's get this crap finished already" mindset these days and told him, I've moved on, we'll worry with it later on when we have spare time to fine-tune things. So until we "fix this", if ever you visit Massey Ponds, just be patient with him.
Yesterday we were heavily into staining the kitchen cabinets. Papa bought a new countertop and underneath cabinets in unfinished wood and was hoping I could stain to match the hanging cabinets. I worked on these for about 8 hours and got them quite beautiful in my opinion (shoot, I really do need to work on before and after pictures). I worked on Papa verbally for those 8 hours to let me paint the doors of the hanging cabinets a pretty glossy pine green because I really didn't think I could match them to the underneath cabinets. The underneath cabinets turned out much darker than the hanging cabinets in the end BUT. I grabbed my can of stain and brush and went to work staining the hanging cabinets and by george, they all match now!
Next weekend, I just need to apply the polyurethane to seal it all and Papa can attach the countertop and put the end cap on that (hopefully the correct way!), build the end "box" for the other end and we'll be in the business of filling the rest of the kitchen cabinets and emptying the kitchen of all those boxes finally.
Then it's on to painting.
So last night when I finally got back home to the city late in the evening. I'm warming up some cold pizza and looking forward to a shower and what do I find on PBS? This Old House with Bob Villa. I know how to pour concrete patios now----there's no stopping me.
Rehabbing Grammy
The bathroom is also running at about 90%. Showers can be taken (and it's all decorated with new carpets and curtains and accessories but there is an issue with the toilet and a leak and we're not sure how to fix this. Papa thinks he's cracked it somewhere but after a trip to Lowes's yesterday, we may have a solution. Cross those fingers.
Also, the cabinet. We had two full-size bathrooms at Massey Gardens and have had to downsize to one full-size bathroom. So I purchased a nice cabinet and additional floor shelves and after pitching alot of excess, we are seeming to fit into our one bathroom. Anyway, Papa was putting together the cabinet at the city house one day while DD was dropping off the P's and she said she called his attention to something and he subsequently blew her off.
On the following Friday, I was unloading the cabinet from the car and noticed something was off. The end cap was on the wrong end OR the door was installed upside down. When it stood right side up, the finished end cap was on the bottom but when the finished end cap was on the top, the door was upside down. I called Papa who insisted he followed the directions and all was well, "quit complaining." I mentioned this to DD on a phone call later, and she told me she brought this to his attention the previous Wednesday when he was building it and he "blew her off."
When Papa arrived at the house on Friday night, he went to look at the cabinet and kept assuring me this is what the directions told him to do....my response, "Seriously, the directions told you this is what it was supposed to look like?" He also went on to say, he didn't see anything wrong with the door. Again, "Seriously, the handle is at the bottom of the cabinet.?" (I will have to remember to take a picture of this cabinet next weekend.) As promised:
Since I'm of the "pick you battles" mindset these days (moving is hard on relationships), I told him to disregard it and I can live with how it looks. About an hour later, he found me and said "I think I see what you're talking about...why don't you empty the cabinet and I'll try to fix it." I'm also of the "Let's get this crap finished already" mindset these days and told him, I've moved on, we'll worry with it later on when we have spare time to fine-tune things. So until we "fix this", if ever you visit Massey Ponds, just be patient with him.
Yesterday we were heavily into staining the kitchen cabinets. Papa bought a new countertop and underneath cabinets in unfinished wood and was hoping I could stain to match the hanging cabinets. I worked on these for about 8 hours and got them quite beautiful in my opinion (shoot, I really do need to work on before and after pictures). I worked on Papa verbally for those 8 hours to let me paint the doors of the hanging cabinets a pretty glossy pine green because I really didn't think I could match them to the underneath cabinets. The underneath cabinets turned out much darker than the hanging cabinets in the end BUT. I grabbed my can of stain and brush and went to work staining the hanging cabinets and by george, they all match now!
Next weekend, I just need to apply the polyurethane to seal it all and Papa can attach the countertop and put the end cap on that (hopefully the correct way!), build the end "box" for the other end and we'll be in the business of filling the rest of the kitchen cabinets and emptying the kitchen of all those boxes finally.
Then it's on to painting.
So last night when I finally got back home to the city late in the evening. I'm warming up some cold pizza and looking forward to a shower and what do I find on PBS? This Old House with Bob Villa. I know how to pour concrete patios now----there's no stopping me.
Rehabbing Grammy
Friday, August 7, 2009
We're All Big Kids Now
Perfect is nearing his big #3 and Precious just passed her #1. It seems like they have both been here for so long but it's really just been a drop in the bucket. They are still both so new. Yet it's hard to remember BP--Before the P's.
Precious graduated this week from her high chair to a booster chair and boy was she proud.
She couldn't wait until it was time for dinner and humored Grammy who was taking constant pictures while we were all sitting together for dinner.
We must be making great strides as even Perfect didn't grouse about the camera flashes going off while he was trying to eat. He was digging them mashed potatoes on Wednesday.
After dinner, Precious wasn't done with her chair.
She was just content to sit in her big chair and participate in what life popped her way----be it corn or crayons.
Yep, they're big kids now.
Nostaligic Grammy.
Precious graduated this week from her high chair to a booster chair and boy was she proud.
She couldn't wait until it was time for dinner and humored Grammy who was taking constant pictures while we were all sitting together for dinner.
We must be making great strides as even Perfect didn't grouse about the camera flashes going off while he was trying to eat. He was digging them mashed potatoes on Wednesday.
After dinner, Precious wasn't done with her chair.
She was just content to sit in her big chair and participate in what life popped her way----be it corn or crayons.
Yep, they're big kids now.
Nostaligic Grammy.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
MY OWN SNOOPY DIVA
Poor, poor Snoopy. She just gets herself in a twit over some things and then pays heavily and it crushes my heart watching her. She refuses to let anyone trim her nails. This normally docile doggy turns into a snarling, foaming at the mouth, stranger when someone tries to trim her nails---us, the groomers, her kennel lady, even the vet. So a few years ago, the vet suggested we bring her in, have her tranquilized, and they would trim her nails.
So we tried that a couple of times and believe it or not, she still fought the trimmers while under heavy sedation. But the vet's office was successful. After that the groomer was able to trim her nails a time or two.
Then last year when I took her in for her yearly shots and heartworm check, she fought tooth and nail against having blood taken out of her front leg----similar to how she fights nail trimming. The vet suggested that on her annual visit this year, why don't I bring her in, they'll tranq her, trim her nails, give her the required shots, and draw the blood for the heartworm test all at once.
So that was yesterday. She wasn't allowed food after midnight the night before and so at 5:30 a.m., I swear she is stomping her long-nailed feet on the kitchen floor trying to get my attention while she was standing in front of her food bowl. Repeatedly. Stomp, stomp, stomp.....long glare......stomp, stomp, stomp....long glare. Finally I tried to explain that she wasn't getting breakfast until later but hey, let's go on a car ride instead (oh the trickery).
Well, we were in the city and she sees the vet in the country, so we had a long drive first, stopping at Starbucks halfway to settle down my addictive cravings. Poor dog, was so hungry by this time, she was nosing around the hot coffee trying to get some sort of relief from her hunger.
Then arriving at the vet, she realized what was up and started to get her panic on but I was out the door. When I picked her up 3 hours later, the receptionist met me with, "My Lord, what a Drama Queen that dog is." They were successful in everything but they said she fought and cried vocally and with tears. She is a yellow lab mix and when she gets upset, she actually cries tears and so she has those brown tear tracks down her face (like you see on poodles).
She was ready to go, however, and usually likes to stop in the grass on the side of the building after her vet visits but was quite distressed that it was pouring rain (my fault, it seems). Another of her diva qualities is she refuses to get her feet wet. Hates, absolutely walking on anything wet. So she's shooting me these drug induced glares with tears running down her face and can't even use the bathroom because I'VE CAUSED THE GRASS TO BE WET, in addition to starving her, and making her come to the vet. How much more guilt could I endure.
Oh, it got better on the way home....an hour's drive, and she refused to lay down and sits in the front seat with me, hanging her head with her eyes shut and occasionally her feet starting to slide out from under her. By the time I got her home, I was promising never to make her go through anything like that ever again (but I probably will....next year) and let's just go into the house and have a long nap and some breakfast and all will be better.
I even went to dinner with an old friend, ordered steak (I'm usually the salad and pasta person), and brought home half of it to give to my own diva doggy to make amends again.
She seems fine this morning....Trotting through the house, having her breakfast on time, tail is wagging, all is forgiven.........until next year and she'll be calling me a liar on top of all the other.
Grammy with her own tail tucked in for now.
So we tried that a couple of times and believe it or not, she still fought the trimmers while under heavy sedation. But the vet's office was successful. After that the groomer was able to trim her nails a time or two.
Then last year when I took her in for her yearly shots and heartworm check, she fought tooth and nail against having blood taken out of her front leg----similar to how she fights nail trimming. The vet suggested that on her annual visit this year, why don't I bring her in, they'll tranq her, trim her nails, give her the required shots, and draw the blood for the heartworm test all at once.
So that was yesterday. She wasn't allowed food after midnight the night before and so at 5:30 a.m., I swear she is stomping her long-nailed feet on the kitchen floor trying to get my attention while she was standing in front of her food bowl. Repeatedly. Stomp, stomp, stomp.....long glare......stomp, stomp, stomp....long glare. Finally I tried to explain that she wasn't getting breakfast until later but hey, let's go on a car ride instead (oh the trickery).
Well, we were in the city and she sees the vet in the country, so we had a long drive first, stopping at Starbucks halfway to settle down my addictive cravings. Poor dog, was so hungry by this time, she was nosing around the hot coffee trying to get some sort of relief from her hunger.
Then arriving at the vet, she realized what was up and started to get her panic on but I was out the door. When I picked her up 3 hours later, the receptionist met me with, "My Lord, what a Drama Queen that dog is." They were successful in everything but they said she fought and cried vocally and with tears. She is a yellow lab mix and when she gets upset, she actually cries tears and so she has those brown tear tracks down her face (like you see on poodles).
She was ready to go, however, and usually likes to stop in the grass on the side of the building after her vet visits but was quite distressed that it was pouring rain (my fault, it seems). Another of her diva qualities is she refuses to get her feet wet. Hates, absolutely walking on anything wet. So she's shooting me these drug induced glares with tears running down her face and can't even use the bathroom because I'VE CAUSED THE GRASS TO BE WET, in addition to starving her, and making her come to the vet. How much more guilt could I endure.
Oh, it got better on the way home....an hour's drive, and she refused to lay down and sits in the front seat with me, hanging her head with her eyes shut and occasionally her feet starting to slide out from under her. By the time I got her home, I was promising never to make her go through anything like that ever again (but I probably will....next year) and let's just go into the house and have a long nap and some breakfast and all will be better.
I even went to dinner with an old friend, ordered steak (I'm usually the salad and pasta person), and brought home half of it to give to my own diva doggy to make amends again.
She seems fine this morning....Trotting through the house, having her breakfast on time, tail is wagging, all is forgiven.........until next year and she'll be calling me a liar on top of all the other.
Grammy with her own tail tucked in for now.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
TIDBITS
So we're finished moving and I haven't touched a box or heavy piece of furniture since Saturday night......so explain to me why I am still so sore EVERY morning that I've gotten up since. I could understand Sunday and maybe Monday but today is Tuesday and I still have issues when standing and taking those first steps. I quit screaming first thing, now it's just a low moan that carries me from the bedroom to the hallway.
This morning I think I've stumbled on one reason...I DREAMED I WAS MOVING ALL NIGHT LONG.....packing and lifting and carrying boxes. I have just gone insane, plain and simple.
But we're finished. I have renamed Massey Gardens #2 (since we've sold #1) Massey Ponds. I think we're going to like it over there, when we're finished unpacking and rehabbing.
I've "misplaced" one of my granddogs. Ginger H. The last dog that lived with DD and SIL. I was tasked to babysit her this past weekend and since it was a big moving weekend, I opted to leave her and Snoopy in the city house since I was coming back in the evening. Snoopy was quite anxious about a canine guest, so I put her in the house and gave Ginger H. the run of the yard. She had a nice bed on the back porch, fresh water, a rawhide chew bone and I fed her a good breakfast of Snoopy's food before I left. I had asked the neighbor to check on her in the evening because I might be coming in late and when she did, she discovered the gate was wide open and Ginger H. was gone. Who knew she could figure out how to open the gate. In four years, Snoopy has never even tried.
The neighbors drove around looking for her a bit and then called me in the country and I headed home. I looked all over for her and no luck. DD and SIL told me not to "stress" she runs away from everywhere and she'll be back. This happened on Friday and today is Tuesday and so far she hasn't came back. DD seems more upset over it now which makes me feel worse than I did initially. She is microchipped but didn't have her tags on her. So if she makes it to the Humane Society, she'll find her way back home but if a person has her, with no tags, that's pretty much impossible.
I did find it oddly comforting though on Saturday morning before I left for the country as I was driving around looking for her in the rain, I kept seeing rainbows. I really took those as a sign that she was fine....whereever she was. I'm superstitious like that.
I've been fighting poison ivy for two weeks now. Papa suggested maybe it was shingles instead and a neighbor seconded that suggestion. I've been using prescription cream and taking steriods but. it. just. won't. go. AWAY.
The P's spent last week (with their parent's) at the Lake and were reported to have had a fantastic time. Perfect reported he went fishing and caught corn (what they were using for bait). But now, both of them and DD are all sick with summer colds now. Poor P's.
So there are a few tidbits of life happening around me.
Until next time....Grammy
This morning I think I've stumbled on one reason...I DREAMED I WAS MOVING ALL NIGHT LONG.....packing and lifting and carrying boxes. I have just gone insane, plain and simple.
But we're finished. I have renamed Massey Gardens #2 (since we've sold #1) Massey Ponds. I think we're going to like it over there, when we're finished unpacking and rehabbing.
I've "misplaced" one of my granddogs. Ginger H. The last dog that lived with DD and SIL. I was tasked to babysit her this past weekend and since it was a big moving weekend, I opted to leave her and Snoopy in the city house since I was coming back in the evening. Snoopy was quite anxious about a canine guest, so I put her in the house and gave Ginger H. the run of the yard. She had a nice bed on the back porch, fresh water, a rawhide chew bone and I fed her a good breakfast of Snoopy's food before I left. I had asked the neighbor to check on her in the evening because I might be coming in late and when she did, she discovered the gate was wide open and Ginger H. was gone. Who knew she could figure out how to open the gate. In four years, Snoopy has never even tried.
The neighbors drove around looking for her a bit and then called me in the country and I headed home. I looked all over for her and no luck. DD and SIL told me not to "stress" she runs away from everywhere and she'll be back. This happened on Friday and today is Tuesday and so far she hasn't came back. DD seems more upset over it now which makes me feel worse than I did initially. She is microchipped but didn't have her tags on her. So if she makes it to the Humane Society, she'll find her way back home but if a person has her, with no tags, that's pretty much impossible.
I did find it oddly comforting though on Saturday morning before I left for the country as I was driving around looking for her in the rain, I kept seeing rainbows. I really took those as a sign that she was fine....whereever she was. I'm superstitious like that.
I've been fighting poison ivy for two weeks now. Papa suggested maybe it was shingles instead and a neighbor seconded that suggestion. I've been using prescription cream and taking steriods but. it. just. won't. go. AWAY.
The P's spent last week (with their parent's) at the Lake and were reported to have had a fantastic time. Perfect reported he went fishing and caught corn (what they were using for bait). But now, both of them and DD are all sick with summer colds now. Poor P's.
So there are a few tidbits of life happening around me.
Until next time....Grammy
Monday, July 27, 2009
To-MA-to, TOM-a-TOE, TOE-MATER
Here are some updates to our hanging upside down tomato plants.
Growing by leaps and bounds but nothing red....YET.
TOE-MATER GRAMMY
Growing by leaps and bounds but nothing red....YET.
TOE-MATER GRAMMY
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
SUMMER AT THE POOL(S)
We are always building pools at our house. I really think we should just get a pool built-in and be done with it all.
This is the first summer that Perfect needed a pool....(yes those are my legs, naturally I'm in there with him!)
Then last year we built this monstrosity.
Papa taking it for a test run.
and then Perfect.
Then this summer we decided to forgo the big pool monster and get something more manageable for tiny children.
Perfect seemed to really enjoy it...Precious, being the diva she is, didn't enjoy the spray in her face and passed.
So one country weekend, I found this and thought Precious would really enjoy it more.
She didn't.
Maybe next year will be a better pool year.
Persistent Pool-Purchaser Grammy
This is the first summer that Perfect needed a pool....(yes those are my legs, naturally I'm in there with him!)
Then last year we built this monstrosity.
Papa taking it for a test run.
and then Perfect.
Then this summer we decided to forgo the big pool monster and get something more manageable for tiny children.
Perfect seemed to really enjoy it...Precious, being the diva she is, didn't enjoy the spray in her face and passed.
So one country weekend, I found this and thought Precious would really enjoy it more.
She didn't.
Maybe next year will be a better pool year.
Persistent Pool-Purchaser Grammy
WALKING DEAD
Can you be asleep (or actually unconscious) and still be walking around, somewhat functioning? That's exactly how I feel these days. We have suddenly sold Massey Gardens #1 and had three weekends to empty a house of nine years of living. Everything went to the rehabbable Massey Gardens #2.
No, of course it's not finished yet. We still have three rooms to do. Big rooms, like the kithen, dining room, and living room. But that didn't stop us from cramming a whole entire house into three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a storage room. We have yet to empty the garage or storage room in #1 but at least the new residents of #1 have the house empty for the most part, to move into.
And suddenly. Yessiree bub, that's exactly right. What went from "if so and so moves to #2, I think I'll buy #1 from you", into, "we have sold our house and need to move into #1 by 7/25".
I've been having difficulty with this suddenness and can't refrain from making snide comments about being "kicked out of my home" and pitching fits when Papa feels the need to spend a day mowing the grass.."it's not your's any more, let it grow". As well as the constant "you started the wheels rolling in this dog and pony show, so quit complaining".
Papa is, to put it plainly....lazy. He doesn't like packing, he doesn't like moving boxes around, he doesn't like going to town and begging for empty boxes, he doesn't like doing much whatsoever on the weekends but hey, this wasn't my idea (another of my often made comments the last few weekends).
I suppose I'll get over my negative attitude with regards to this and come to terms with it. #2, being the rehab, is going to be completely new and as we dismantle #1, we just see more and more that needed to be done (that we weren't getting to) to keep that house standing, so we're better off in that regard.
Also on the positive side, we're off the main road, so the teenage party boy behind us can do as he pleases, the hundred of cars passing by all night long won't be affecting us any more (ahem....we kept that tidbit to ourselves and didn't share this kid's new weekend activity with our new neighbors!)
What's so hard is that we are trying to accomplish this move only on weekends and still maintaining our normal life Monday-Friday,,,work, social obligations, summer fun, P Wednesdays, etc.
So far, we have managed, without counting the 24 hour asthma event I suffered from last week after spending a day cleaning out dusty cabinets with Mold registering 31,000 outside. My poor lungs can only take so much before they rebel and shut down. But 24 hours later (having slept 22 of those hours), I was back at the moving site!
Then we had Almost Step-Son's fit throwing Friday and leaving after 10 minutes because he felt we weren't organized to his specifications on his arrival to help move big furniture. I had a list of 17 pieces that were empty and ready to go but he fixated on the one room that wasn't packed up yet, threw a fit and left. Papa explained he just didn't want to help to begin with so "we don't need his stinkin' help."
So my neck screamed, my calves cramped up, and Papa and I started lifting and moving all we could. SIL came by and helped us out last Sunday with his arm wrapped up in an ace bandage with a pain patch (sprained wrist from doing laundry----that's an entire blog in itself for later). We just treated him as a mover with 100% capabilities and trod on.
Papa sold some old dirt bikes to a co-worker and when he arrived and they got all the bikes loaded up in his truck,,,,we sprung on him and his wife that we needed some help moving a piece of furniture. That was an understatement. It took him, his wife, Papa and I all to move a piano (no I don't play, I won it in a raffle).
Papa had suggested a couple of weekends ago that maybe I should sell it because it is so hard to move but all I could picture was the movie Cold Mountain and the piano going down the road in a horse-pulled wagon. If Ada Monroe can have her piano moved under those conditions, during a war to boot. I, at least, could have mine moved across the road with me! So my heels dug in and my beloved, unused piano moved to #2.
So in a nutshell, that is what I've been up to the last month, hence no blogs. Things are settling down, we see the light at the end of the moving tunnel (more rehabbing hasn't been set to schedule just yet) but I'll have a little more spare time for blogging and such now.
Your beat down, worn out Grammy.
No, of course it's not finished yet. We still have three rooms to do. Big rooms, like the kithen, dining room, and living room. But that didn't stop us from cramming a whole entire house into three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a storage room. We have yet to empty the garage or storage room in #1 but at least the new residents of #1 have the house empty for the most part, to move into.
And suddenly. Yessiree bub, that's exactly right. What went from "if so and so moves to #2, I think I'll buy #1 from you", into, "we have sold our house and need to move into #1 by 7/25".
I've been having difficulty with this suddenness and can't refrain from making snide comments about being "kicked out of my home" and pitching fits when Papa feels the need to spend a day mowing the grass.."it's not your's any more, let it grow". As well as the constant "you started the wheels rolling in this dog and pony show, so quit complaining".
Papa is, to put it plainly....lazy. He doesn't like packing, he doesn't like moving boxes around, he doesn't like going to town and begging for empty boxes, he doesn't like doing much whatsoever on the weekends but hey, this wasn't my idea (another of my often made comments the last few weekends).
I suppose I'll get over my negative attitude with regards to this and come to terms with it. #2, being the rehab, is going to be completely new and as we dismantle #1, we just see more and more that needed to be done (that we weren't getting to) to keep that house standing, so we're better off in that regard.
Also on the positive side, we're off the main road, so the teenage party boy behind us can do as he pleases, the hundred of cars passing by all night long won't be affecting us any more (ahem....we kept that tidbit to ourselves and didn't share this kid's new weekend activity with our new neighbors!)
What's so hard is that we are trying to accomplish this move only on weekends and still maintaining our normal life Monday-Friday,,,work, social obligations, summer fun, P Wednesdays, etc.
So far, we have managed, without counting the 24 hour asthma event I suffered from last week after spending a day cleaning out dusty cabinets with Mold registering 31,000 outside. My poor lungs can only take so much before they rebel and shut down. But 24 hours later (having slept 22 of those hours), I was back at the moving site!
Then we had Almost Step-Son's fit throwing Friday and leaving after 10 minutes because he felt we weren't organized to his specifications on his arrival to help move big furniture. I had a list of 17 pieces that were empty and ready to go but he fixated on the one room that wasn't packed up yet, threw a fit and left. Papa explained he just didn't want to help to begin with so "we don't need his stinkin' help."
So my neck screamed, my calves cramped up, and Papa and I started lifting and moving all we could. SIL came by and helped us out last Sunday with his arm wrapped up in an ace bandage with a pain patch (sprained wrist from doing laundry----that's an entire blog in itself for later). We just treated him as a mover with 100% capabilities and trod on.
Papa sold some old dirt bikes to a co-worker and when he arrived and they got all the bikes loaded up in his truck,,,,we sprung on him and his wife that we needed some help moving a piece of furniture. That was an understatement. It took him, his wife, Papa and I all to move a piano (no I don't play, I won it in a raffle).
Papa had suggested a couple of weekends ago that maybe I should sell it because it is so hard to move but all I could picture was the movie Cold Mountain and the piano going down the road in a horse-pulled wagon. If Ada Monroe can have her piano moved under those conditions, during a war to boot. I, at least, could have mine moved across the road with me! So my heels dug in and my beloved, unused piano moved to #2.
So in a nutshell, that is what I've been up to the last month, hence no blogs. Things are settling down, we see the light at the end of the moving tunnel (more rehabbing hasn't been set to schedule just yet) but I'll have a little more spare time for blogging and such now.
Your beat down, worn out Grammy.
Friday, June 26, 2009
MORE BOTANICALS
I keep finding more pictures on my camera of things I've been growing here, there, and everywhere!
At Massey Gardens One, we have the routine, run of the mill daylilies.
They are growing at the house as well as growing wild everywhere I see as I drive around the countryside.
Then we have Massey Gardens Two, the property we are rehabbing and possibly moving to in the near future. The things over there are, for the most part, wild and untended. I see a lot work for this black-thumbed Grammy.
I'm not sure exactly what this is, but it was a pretty bloom the last time I was over.
I have tried to get Pampas Grass to grow over at Massey Gardens One with no success---actually I think Papa keeps mowing it down. But here at Massey Gardens Two it is growing wild and needs to be tamed a bit.
I'll put that on the list of things to do late fall!
Then back at the city house, I have these
I'm sensing a purple color scheme this year!! Everywhere I look, I have planted purple flowers!
Then lastly, Papa was visiting a friend and came home gushing about these upside down tomato plants his friend had planted. I looked around at some stores here and there and never noticed anything like that. One afternoon, we went out specifically looking for them and inquiring with salepeople. No luck.
Then I got on the internet and actually found the site https://www.topsyturvy.com/?cid=631718 and ordered us some hangers. Then I had to go out and procure some plants. I bought two Big Boys and two sweet cherry tomatoes for salads. Then we planted, filling each hanger with an entire bag of potting soil.
Then where to hang? These suckers were heavy. AH...the clothes line pole that never sees any other use!
So here are the "baby pictures"...Since we've planted about 3 weeks ago, they are growing by leaps and bounds. Amazing the amount they grow every day. I'll try to get an photo update on here in the next day or so. They have blooms and we are hoping by August 1, we might have our first fruit!!
Have you heard about my color change? The black-thumb seems to be lightening up and having some hints of green on it.
Planting Grammy
At Massey Gardens One, we have the routine, run of the mill daylilies.
They are growing at the house as well as growing wild everywhere I see as I drive around the countryside.
Then we have Massey Gardens Two, the property we are rehabbing and possibly moving to in the near future. The things over there are, for the most part, wild and untended. I see a lot work for this black-thumbed Grammy.
I'm not sure exactly what this is, but it was a pretty bloom the last time I was over.
I have tried to get Pampas Grass to grow over at Massey Gardens One with no success---actually I think Papa keeps mowing it down. But here at Massey Gardens Two it is growing wild and needs to be tamed a bit.
I'll put that on the list of things to do late fall!
Then back at the city house, I have these
I'm sensing a purple color scheme this year!! Everywhere I look, I have planted purple flowers!
Then lastly, Papa was visiting a friend and came home gushing about these upside down tomato plants his friend had planted. I looked around at some stores here and there and never noticed anything like that. One afternoon, we went out specifically looking for them and inquiring with salepeople. No luck.
Then I got on the internet and actually found the site https://www.topsyturvy.com/?cid=631718 and ordered us some hangers. Then I had to go out and procure some plants. I bought two Big Boys and two sweet cherry tomatoes for salads. Then we planted, filling each hanger with an entire bag of potting soil.
Then where to hang? These suckers were heavy. AH...the clothes line pole that never sees any other use!
So here are the "baby pictures"...Since we've planted about 3 weeks ago, they are growing by leaps and bounds. Amazing the amount they grow every day. I'll try to get an photo update on here in the next day or so. They have blooms and we are hoping by August 1, we might have our first fruit!!
Have you heard about my color change? The black-thumb seems to be lightening up and having some hints of green on it.
Planting Grammy
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