Lily is fine

Lily's surgery was delayed due to another emergency. She is out now and the doctor seems pleased with the outcome. She has her first two and hopefully last screws. We pick her up tomorrow afternoon. Casa De Silly just isn't the same without her. Michaela has been vocalizing all day, although I think it's probably a matter of she want her some TJ Tuna! Girl got a major Tuna Jones happnin'

Here's a gratuitous Lily pic. It'll be 4 to 6 weeks before she gets on her "tree" again.

Keep Lily in your thoughts on Friday

We came home Wed night a bit later than we might normally. When we called Lily, she showed up with a VERY bad limp, unable to put weight on her right hind leg. Worried that she had been hit by a car we rushed her to a 24 hour emergency vet. We didn't get to bed until 1am today. Moonrabbit met with Lily's surgeon today. Her leg is broken where the femur meets the knee. There is no evidence of a car strike. Like many Siamese, she loves to climb and be on the high ground. I think she either slipped off our new roof, or most likely fell off our tall Crepe Myrtle tree that she loves to climb. I have seen her lose grip but catch herself several times there.

She will be getting screws to reattach the bones Friday in surgery. They may be permanent or have to be taken out later.

She's been a trooper, no complaining, but when she comes home to her new residence, a borrowed dog crate, she may be unhappy for the 4 to 6 weeks where she's not allowed to jump around.

Here she is in happier, lower altitude times.

Workin' Hard, hardly workin'

BEFORE

DURING

After

Not a bad day

This is the good part. Floor poured, joists hung. Sill set (hmm, I need a picture of that)Yesterday the electricians came and hooked up the new service panel unsupervised. They came back today to finish up. They cut off the power to the garage where the fridge with my frozen TJ chicken enchilada's are. (lunch) Hey, I didn't have to defrost it today!
Cabinet man showed up, decisions were made and measurements taken. Roof guys were there early and started removed sections of roofing...which leads into the Not-So-Great part.

That white "snake" is the electrical to the garage, which got cut today, so I'm using a

VERY long extension cord.

This is near a skylight where we thought we could just replace the bottom boards. I THINK we have enough to do it?

"Upon further review..."

Yesterday, with the visit from the Nice Floor Lady, and they have very nice floors, a tile material AND style was selected. The choices were Dura Ceramic or porcelain. Porcelain was eliminated by the presence of a black mastic on the slab floor which I AM CERTAIN NEVER HAD ASBESTOS TILES. This reacts badly with the porcelain tile mastic. So the plan was Hardi board underlayment throughout, then Duracermic tiles WITH grout lines. (an option)

NFL called today, tech says no can do. Dura Ceramic doesn't like hardi board. We would have to "float" the concrete floor, which I assume means a thin coat of something concrete like. The rest would have Halex 1/4" plywood underlayment.

There would have to be some sort of "transition" between the slab floor and the plywood floor base. This seemed obvious to me many months ago, but I was shunned and shamed into silence. I'm sure there must be transcripts floating around that will vindicate me, UNLESS THEY'VE BEEN DESTROYED!

This may bring porcelain back into the picture, and it was even muttered by the power that be "I can see why they had carpet everywhere"

So the ball has been returned to it's original spot, and we lost a down in the challenge.

The pictures are for my former supervisor, HI MIKE!, who has been to the house and wanted to know how we supported that beam after taking out a post in the middle of the room. That problem was one of the main driving forces for the redesign.

The post is next to the right side of the chair in #2 pic.

Just before I took out the post with "The Persuader", visible just above the table, a bulge was noted in the beam. It's gone now, the post AND the bulge.

1 Hurdle climbed over, however haltingly

BEFORE (a reminder)

Now

Had the plumbers out last night after 6pm. Got inspected this am, passed, Poured concrete about 1:30 pm!

Also had the flooring estimator out for measurements and Q&A's. Electrician came by, PG&E wants a 3 foot higher mast on the power drop. I should mention that EVERYONE who looks at the long power drop goes "WOW, I've never seen one THAT long before" It's between 125-150 feet across an intersection. Cabinet guy's coming Fri to measure. Monday the roofers rip into the roof, we have the custom made lumber to replace what we need to tear out. ( 2X8 T&G)

Oh the HUMANITY!

In the mortal words of Arlo Guthrie, I been Inspected, detected and REJECTED!

The inspector DENIED permission to pour concrete! Minor details over how the sewer lines were installed and inability to hold pressure.

I OBJECT!

I STRENUOUSLY OBJECT!

SIGH,

Got the appliance delivery delayed for 2 weeks.

Moving incrementally forward

Permit issued. (Again) Inspection scheduled for Monday. Concrete on Tuesday. Roof/ceiling boards are ready for pick up. Lots of pipe has been installed or replaced. New electrical service panel is on site awaiting installation. Gas lines are ready.

Oh, and the kitchen appliances are tentatively scheduled for delivery Tues also, not that we're ready for them.

Pictures from a lazy afternoon-Plumber's aftermath

Spent several hours vacuuming up wood chips from the plumbers auger. No wonder you have to bolt the house to the foundation. With all the studs turned to wood chips, courtesy of the plumbers, the house has lost half it's weight!

Note the callous movement of rebar!

The yellow line is one inch flexible GAS line. Who knew?

The unfortunate part is there is no water to the house now. There is one yard faucet with water, so I have to fill buckets to flush the toilet.

Remodel Update

This is a picture from yesterday. Today it looks different because the plumbers are crawling under and through the house running new water and gas lines for the on demand water heater and stove. Last night I was downloading the installation specs for the stove when I noticed that the WRONG stove had been ordered, so we called the salesman and corrected things.

It will look different because they have drilled large holes for the toilet and shower through the forms for the concrete. They say the first thing a new plumber learns is how to start a chain saw.

Also we have to run a conduit for a 50 amp 220 line for the garage for Moonrabbit's kiln through here.

The boards for the ceiling/roof are 2X8 T&G knotty pine, aren't made anymore, so we are having to have it custom made, $250 just to set up the saws I am told. Since the roof is being torn up, we are going to take out a skylight that no longer fits in the scheme of things, and replace some termite damaged boards that show in the main bathroom.

The boards will take about a week or two. The new, larger, front windows will be coming about then also. Still haven't hired a cabinet maker...

Also, I had a lotta splainin to do...A big beautiful geranium bush got accidentally uprooted while digging a trench for the waterline for the front hose bibs.

Stop, smell the roses, then take a nap

Finally a break!

My contractor has been saying we were due for a break. It may have come today. I started digging the trench for the foundation that goes under the all important shear wall, when 3 inches down, Clunk....I moved the shovel, 3 inches down, clunk. A footing emerged, with rebar protruding, the correct size etc. It saves a bit of digging and some concrete. We're going to fill the void with concrete.

The picture did not come out as clear as I would have hoped. Oh well.

This used to look like this.

Men have always gone down to the sea in ships...

SHIPS Dude, SHIPS!

That wasn't even a houseboat until you launched it into Bodega Bay!

remodel update

The contractor said yesterday that we need for some breaks to go OUR way someday. Today was NOT that day.

This is what we found yesterday.

Note the pretty sheetrock on the ceiling. note the mold just below. That wouldn't indicate anything would (wood) it?

This is what we found today.

This likely means the removal of a 5' X 8' chunk of roof.

No, there REALLY isn't a foundation under that bearing wall, or at least this 6 feet of it.

So now the engineer and architect get an all expenses paid road trip to view our dilemma, and draw up a solution. This likely will mean another permit (with accompanying fees).

And that wasn't the WORST news of the day. We got an estimate for the cabinets, island and associated wordworking. I'm too embarrassed to say how much it is, but my contractor was shocked. We'll be shopping around I think.

We made some other progress though. We got a beam in.

Foundation, smoundation

Hey it's ONLY a bearing wall, the future "Shear Wall" for the whole house. Why should we expect a foundation beneath it? There's not even a beam!

The day started with a bad area of dry rot in the ceiling/roof. This is right above the area mentioned above. The original house was built on a concrete slab. The addition, which doubled the size, has a small crawl space. We were aware there was a "notch" in the slab where there were drain lines and water lines, and thought that was just a way to deal with not putting pipes in concrete. SURPRISE! Back to the architect, new drawings/specs...someone is going to have to crawl in a tight space, dig a damn big trench with a gardening trowel, and it damn sure isn't going to be me! (Space limitations, otherwise I'd be "Happy" to, yeh right)

Maybe tomorrow I'll add some pics. No camera today.

This is turning into "The Money Pit" I can't say without blushing how much we're paying for new appliances.

Side note: the roofers for OUR house got 99.5% done in one day (12 hours) Just needed a little flashing (metal, not bodies). Roof last Wed, next day nothing, called, "We'll be there tomorrow", a week later, still haven't seen them, but THEY CASHED THE CHECK!

I'm Back, anyone miss me?

Bloggers seem to be dropping like flies in an Oakie home entertainment center.

My hiatus was probably due to stress of the early stages of a remodel, (we got our permit Friday after 2 months), and the fact that the 12th was one year after my mom passed away, and then Mother's day. I never noticed before how many commercials there are for Mother's day and how many people in customer services say "Happy Mother's Day".

Each was like a punch in the chest.

Now the remodel is in full swing, so I have lots of physical labor to work off stress and lots of unimportant decisions to make and money to spend.

Here's Before and During pics.

The cabinets in the before pic are now in the garage. (That's Moonrabbit behind the post) The kitchen is being moved to the far wall in the bottom pic. The yellowish chair has a date with the dumpster, but it's sad because it's about 45 years old. It has a wooden handle to lock it in a reclined position. (which doesn't work) The handle has been sanded because our dachshund chewed on it when it was in my early teens. It has been reupholstered countless times.

HIATUS!

Due to the large number of irons I have in the fire at the moment, which are frying a lot of fish, and because everybody seems to be doing it, I won't be posting for the forseeable future. The lack of visitors and commentors may have something to do with it also. That, and a lack of imagination, remembered stories, and talent might have a bit of influence.

I'll still be lurking on other's blogs.

See YA!

WTF Roofers Chapters 1 & 2

Chapter One finds us, like so many others, at the FIRST RAIN. Gee, the roof leaks, ceiling sheetrock in the back bedroom beginning to sag.

I'm not looking for miracles, I just want the roof tarped to prevent the sheet rock from coming down and hold us over until the roof can be replaced. The biggest issue is that I don't want to do the tarping. I could, but I don't wanna. Rain is forecast for the next day. The roof is steep and wet and old and tired. As it turns out, in the end I am wet, old and tired.

But I digress. I call company "W" whom I have had do work in the past. I realize that ALL the roofing companies are swamped, and I could handle a response like "we're swamped and can't help you or get back to you for a week". What I got was "Bill will call you back sometime today". So I wait ALL DAY. Or at least until 3pm, because I know how things work, I call again. "Bill is in a meeting, I'll be SURE to have him call you when he gets out" No call.

So I'm on the roof tarping, slipping, climbing back, nailing, tarping, slipping, cursing. Roof is tarped, rain comes, no more leak.

I'm done with "W", and I don't hear from them for 10 days. They start leaving cheerful messages "Hi, returning your call about a roof!" I ignore all calls until one day they actually get a hold of me. It's Dave. Using my most mature adult personality, I quickly, and in a business like manner let Dave know that they have forfeited any opportunity to work for me now or ever. Dave is SHOCKED! "We called you back in three days!" Not true, but it doesn't even matter. I tell him as much, calmly without being accusing, and just try to explain that there is nothing to discuss and have a nice life. He's INSULTED! Sorry goodbye.

Some time passes as I try to find a reliable reference for a roofer that does quality work and is reliable. I don't know about you, but I find my best references at Christmas parties from people I have never met before or since.

Chapter Two. Time passes. I lose the little piece of paper with the name on it, but remember it started with "A" and was based in our town.

Fortunately there is only one. I call and set up an appointment for the estimator. I want to be there to explain that I want new gutters on one side of the house and a new skylight. Things seem to go well. He will get the estimate to me in a week. Life intrudes, and a month later I realize that I have not gotten an estimate. I call. They are VERY SORRY and will have it out to me shortly. Life intrudes again, and about another month later, still no estimate. "REALLY? OH I AM SO SORRY" Another couple of weeks go by and I get a call asking what kind of vents I want. After I tell the man, he says he will bring the estimate over this afternoon. Two weeks later I call again, "REALLY? OH I AM SO SORRY" Somebody had an accident, someone else is out of town yada yada yada "We'll drop it off this afternoon"

They actually DID drop it off this time, but I'm beginning to think I'm not sure I want them working on my house.

Peek at Chapter Three. I call another company out of the book this morning, they have an estimator over in 2 hours, and promise to email me the estimate post haste....

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Kinda like this post, but much more expensive.

Rescuers Pluck Man, Pet Bird From Tree
April 4, 2007

Texas - It took a Coast Guard helicopter to rescue a man and his pet cockatoo from the heights of a pine tree after he got stuck trying retrieve the $2,000 bird. William Hart, 35, had climbed about 60 feet up the tree to get the bird after it escaped from its cage and flew out a bedroom window. Television video showed him standing on a branch Tuesday evening awaiting rescue, the exotic white bird apparently tucked under his shirt.
The bird, Geronimo, got out after Hart's daughter apparently forgot to latch his cage after feeding him, Hart told the Houston Chronicle. He said he spotted Geronimo in flight and chased him, then climbed the tree until the cockatoo flew to his arm.
That's when Hart realized they were stuck. He said he yelled to his sister, who was helping him chase the bird, to call 911.
Firefighters had trouble backing a truck up to the tree because of the rain-saturated ground, so the Coast Guard helicopter was called in. The crew used a harness to get both man and bird down.
Hart had a few scratches and a bite on his finger from the frightened bird nipping him, but he said he was glad it all worked out. The shaking bird tucked its beak under his collar as he held it.
"He's my baby," Hart said. "I'd do it again."
Written by Associated Press

State of the cat house

The girls are getting along pretty well, but Michaela always lets Lily know who's top cat.

P.S. Michaela has been De Crowned! (Does this mean she is no longer a princess or Queen?) She saw the vet for her checkup who said her bottom canines were "re absorbing" and were probably painful. So she was "decrowned". She had a bad week recovering from the surgery which meant 1ml of oral antibiotics twice a day. She kind of liked the pain killer, and got soft food (TJ Tuna) for a week. She's back to normal now and seems a bit happier, if clingy.
We knew she felt bad because Lily wasn't attacking her, wanting to play, and we knew when she was better when Lily went back on the offensive.

It's all over now, officially

I thought it was all over when they used Jimi Hendrix songs to sell cars, certainly it was another nail in the coffin when the Stones "Start Me Up" was used to sell Windows, (and how fitting with a line like "You make a grown man cry"), but THIS IS IT!!!!!

Warning, not for the sqeemish. (And no, I don't want to know how to post youtube videos)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqfFrCUrEbY

Please Scroll Down!

Honestly, if I'd known I'd be getting all these visitors from a reference at Drunken Housewife, I'd have tried to put up something a little more interesting than altered dolls (not mine).

The poop stories are further down, cat pictures way at the beginning followed by fire dept prank stories. Frankly I'm out of gas here!

Actually my best work these days is in the comments sections at DH. (pretty pathetic huh?)

Here's picture of a Teapot "with attitude" by none other than Moonrabbit.

Another Altered Doll- a work in progress

Fleeting enjoyment

We had dinner last night with 4 of the 8 people who attended the party in the last post. Moonrabbit mentioned the post, and only one person remembered the party or my telling jokes!

The "highlight" of my social life

For a short while, there was a "thing" going around our social circle of having theme parties. Mercifully it seems to have died off, however before it did, we were invited to a party where we were to dress as characters from a fairy tale and do a presentation based on the story.

If it helps to visualize this, most of the people involved are, or were teachers.

Moonrabbit chose "The Fisherman's Wife" for us. I went online, and through the magic of Google, found a bunch of fishing jokes. I memorized a bunch of them, and figured out how to string them together as a standup routine. I was the surprize (and surprized) hit of the party!

I thought I had them together in a file, but all I could find were some of the ones I used and some of the rejects. Without further ado...

Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and
he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.

What Do Fish Say When They Hit a Concrete Wall?

Dam!


Four married guys go fishing. After an hour, the following conversation took place. First guy: " You have no idea what I had to do to be able to come out fishing this weekend. I had to promise my wife that I will paint every room in the house next weekend." Second guy: " that's nothing, I had to promise my wife that I will build her a new deck for the pool." Third guy: " Man, you both have it easy! I had to promise my wife that I will remodel the kitchen for her." They continue to fish when they realized that the fourth guy has not said a word. So they asked him. You haven't said anything about what you had to do to be able to come fishing this weekend. " What's the deal?" Fourth guy: " I just set my alarm for 5:30 am. When it went off, I shut off my alarm, gave the wife a nudge and said, " Fishing or Sex" and she said, " Wear a Sweater."


Three blondes are sitting by the side of a river holding fishing poles with the lines in the water. A Game Warden comes up behind them, taps them on the shoulder and says, Excuse me, ladies, I'd like to see your fishing licenses.
We don't have any, replied the first blonde.
Well, if you're going to fish, you need fishing licenses. said the Game Warden.
But officer, replied the second blonde, we aren't fishing. We all have magnets at the end of our lines and we're collecting debris off the bottom of the river.
The Game Warden lifted up all the lines and, sure enough, there were horseshoe magnets tied on the end of each line. Well, I know of no law against it, said the Game Warden, take all the debris you want. And with that, the Game Warden left.
As soon as the Game Warden was out of sight, the three blondes started laughing hysterically. What a dumb Fish Cop, the second blonde said to the other two, doesn't he know that there are steelhead trout in this river?!

A man is out in his row boat when suddenly a passing speed boat raises huge waves and the man's oars fall overboard! He is stranded out in the middle of the lake!
After about two hours, he sees another row boat going by with a man and two women in it! The first man yells, "Hey buddy, can I borrow one of your oars?" The other man yells back,
"They're not whores ... they're my sisters!"


Every Sunday afternoon everyone in the neighborhood would meet at the nearby cross roads and country store to compare their weekend catches. Everyone had normal size fish except this one old farmer who had always brought in huge fish. The game warden heard about this and showed up one Sunday afternoon. After inspecting the old farmers fish, he turned to the farmer and said "If you don't show me your fishing spot , I'm going to have to close you down." The farmer replied by telling him to come out to the farm in the morning and he would take him fishing. The next morning the game warden shows up with his pole and the farmer tells him to climb onto the tractor. They head out into this big field until they come to a little pond. The warden is scratching his head because all he sees is a rotten old skiff, when he expected a large lake and something closer to a yacht. The farmer said to get in and they start rowing out to the middle. About this time the warden notices that there are no fishing poles. As he is about to say something, the farmer reaches into a box and pulls out a stick of dynamite, lights it and throws it into the pond. After the water and smoke settle, he paddles around picking up the fish. The warden's jaw is on the deck. He can't talk for a minute. When he finds his voice, he starts in on the farmer about how he can't believe what just happened and starts screaming to the farmer about all the regulations he has broken. While this is taking place the farmer calmly reaches into the box grabs another stick of dynamite, lights it, hands it to the warden and asks him if he is going to fish or talk.

A blonde wanted to go ice fishing, so after getting all of the right tools, she headed toward the nearest frozen lake. After getting comfy on her stool she started to cut a circular hole in the ice. Then from the heavens a voice boomed, ''THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.'' Startled, the blonde moved further down the ice, poured a thermos of hot chocolate and started to cut yet another hole in the ice. The voice boomed, ''THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.'' This time quite scared, the blonde moved to the far end of the ice. Then she started another hole and once again the voice said, ''THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.'' The very scared blonde raised her head and said, ''Is that you, Lord?'' The voice answered, ''NO. IT IS THE MANAGER OF THE ICE RINK.''

Celiac Disease on The View

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4v-9U8GbLu0

and a PSA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCO97hKJb-s&mode=related&search=

Altered Dolls-an art project

Moonrabbit and her many artsy friends have a current project called altered dolls. Each person starts with some form, and it is passed to each of the others, who add something to it. When everyone has worked on each doll, it comes back the to first person.

They have previously done this with altered books and altered boxes.

The handcrafted ceramic face and "hair" are Moonrabbits' additions to someone else's doll form.

What I got out of meditation and Yoga

Green has a post about Yoga which got me thinking about what I have gotten out of yoga and meditation.

Meditation came first, and eventually led to my being almost comfortable taking a VERY beginning yoga class.

In a word, meditation gave me Perspective.

As a journeyman perfectionist of long standing, I was, after much trying and reading, able to let go of the notion of "doing it right". I help this acceptance by thinking of it as "Practicing Meditation" rather than DOING it. It takes the pressure off, and reduces the negative self talk when I catch my mind wandering. I just begin again. It was by watching my thoughts intrude, welling up out of nowhere, and feeling my reactions to the thoughts that I realized that thoughts are only in my mind and are not REAL things. They come and go, and I can watch them or not. When emotions attach to the thoughts, I can chose to fully feel them, or let them pass by going back to concentrating on awareness of my breathing.

So rather than BEING an emotion now, I try to just FEEL the emotion. I am not perfect or consistent in my practice, and actually, I don't formally meditate much anymore unless I'm feeling stressed.

As for Yoga, I take a very beginning yoga class. I have learned to not overdo the poses most of the time. I have learned to let go of those poses that are impossible for me. I try to laugh inside thinking "yah right, what should I do while you're doing that?" I have learned to quiet my inner perfectionist most of the time. You're not supposed to compare yourself to others, but I usually look to see if anyone else's knees are next to their ears when sitting cross legged. I take a perverse pride in being the "worst" student. I figure that anyone else who's comparing can say "Well, I'm better than HIM."

I'm usually the only guy, and oldest person there. But I'm there.

I'm pushing for a "Geezer yoga" class.

The Guided meditation at the end of yoga is different than individual meditation where one can just concentrate on the breath.

To borrow from 12 step programs, "Take what you can use, and leave the rest"

Trivia answer

Since two out of the three people that read my blog have checked in, and the third should know the answer from listening to Moonrabbit and I talk about it...

The item is a Navajo water drum! Apparently made between 1920 and 1940, they were filled with water to various levels for different pitches then covered with hide. It is covered in pine pitch to make it waterproof.

The appraised value is $750.

This was an item in my step fathers collection that we are donating to a Native American museum. In the few notes we found, he thought it was a cooking pot.

Guess What?

This isn't a contest, there is nothing to win except bragging rights.

The challenge is this, identify, specifically, the item in the picture and it's professionally appraised valuation.

Domestic transcript

Keeping in mind we are celebrating our 30th anniversary this July...

Had we been under domestic surveillance Friday night, part of the transcript would have read as follows:

Me: (Raised voice to be heard in front room) Is it OK if I shut off the computer?
Her: Yes

Me: Do you want me to leave the laundry room light on?
Her: Yes

Me: (Figuring I'm on a roll with the affirmative answers) Do you love me?
Her: What did YOU DO!

Fool us once, shame on you.

In a case of corporate-consumer kiss and make up, MoonRabbit and I are the owners of a new, Silver, 2007 Honda Odyssey LX. All is forgiven, but I wouldn't buy a 1999-2004 Honda Odyssey without a long term warranty on the tranny. We felt like we got a good trade in for the dead un, MSRP on the new, a package at a discount and an extended warranty with another discount. We normally don't go for extended warranties, but we're a bit gunshy I guess.

Oh, and they threw in the bridge!

Oy! Such a headache!

No, I'm not jewish, but those words best convey how I'm feeling right now. (BTW, I DO have a literal headache)

It all started last night about 9pm, when wife unit (Moonrabbit) called from her cell phone that her car was having serious issues on an unlit country road about 5 miles from our house, and had pulled over. After brief phone triage, I went to the "rescue". Her Engine light had come on, and the car, a 2003 Honda Odyssey, was popping out of gear sporadically. I checked the manual, and checked that the gas cap was on tight. We were actually closer to the Honda dealer than home, so we dropped it off about 9:30 pm.

We have been Honda owners for over 20 years, so I was confidant that the problem was minor. Having said that, we have had more problems, though minor, with the Odyssey than any of our previous Civics and Accords. About 10:30 am I got the call from the service department. Our 2003 Odyssey, with 59,100K miles on it, needs a NEW transmission! Estimate $4600! Warrantee ran out at 50K.

I transformed into Seriousyak.

So, from about 11 until 3:30 we have been shopping, looking at a new Honda Odyssey vs Toyota Sienna. A service rep came through, and made an offer to repair for about $1000, as a good will gesture. I am inclined to go with a new vehicle, since this one seems somewhat unreliable. We were reminded several times, that if we had ONLY bought the extended warranty, it would be covered. I reminded them that if they feel I NEED an extended waranty, I'm not buying their vehicle.

The Sienna vs Odyssey is just about a tie. Honda appears to be making a very real effort to keep us as customers. We haven't made a decision yet. Keep ya posted. (pun intended)

I never would have been a contender

Iris Uber Alles is playing baseball.

She is probably as good now, as I ever was. The only consolation is that IN MY DAY there was no T ball, no softball, and to the best of my recollection, very little actual coaching. The only advice I remember was "Just let your bat meet the ball." (But of course I still closed my eyes and swung like mad at the first 3 pitches.)

Part of the problem may have been the mandatory nature of my participation. I was asked by maternal parent unit if I wanted to play baseball like my two studly brothers before me, who had clothed themselves in glory with their multi sport prowess.

I declined, and was signed up anyway. (For my own good)

My 45+ year old memories are limited, but include the following.

By observation, I realized I was the 2nd worse player in the league...until the worst one quit.

Some idiot, during a practice, decided to try me at catcher, where I took a pitch right in the forehead, knocking me out for the first time in my life. I'd like to think it wasn't the very first pitch, but I can't remember much.

Banished to right field, I was reasonably content, I lucked out and got assigned to a very good team, (The Cardinals!) which eventually went on to win the championship...without me. Because they had an extra player, when the previously mentioned worst player quit, I got sent to his team. Fate having a sense of humor, caused that team to be sponsored by the local mortuary, meaning they of course had black and white uniforms. They were perennially the worst team with the worst morale.

So who did we play my first game? Remember fates sense of humor? My old team naturally. Did the "coach" tell my old teammates ahead of time? No way! So I had to keep explaining why I was wearing the "wrong" uniform. My only fond memory of this time was that most of my old teammates were righteously indignant for me.

I played a couple of games before I decided that my brothers had used up all the sports glory for our family. (but I was wrong) Without even consulting parental unit, I called up, quit, and arranged to return the uniform.

Many years later, I got a job with Parks & Rec, and spent some time COACHING! "Just let your bat meet the ball". I did have a moment of glory when a game of slow pitch was arranged between the maintenance crews and the playground directors. I was the winning pitcher! (in slow pitch the idea is for the team to hit the ball) Maintenance had all these huge apes who would swing for the non existant fences. Our fielders would stand as far out as they had to to catch the balls. A bloop over the infield would have been a home run, but they kept hitting them long.

My oldest brother became quite a hero (linebacker) in High School football, and I was of a size that I had potential to be a good lineman, and based on my brother's performance I got a lot of pressure to play.

I joined the band instead. (First chair Alto and Baritone Sax)

The all new Amazing Quest!

Last night, watching "Amazing Race", it occurred to me that there is a remarkable similarity to trying to obtain a building permit.

1. Drive 25 miles to the county seat to obtain a building permit.
2. On arrival, and after waiting 3o minutes and being directed to the wrong desk, find out there is a Detour!
3. Return home, get special form filled out by architect.
4. Week later drive back to county seat, wait 30 minutes, clear first station "Zoning" sent to 2nd station "Wells & Septic", Pay, non refundable permit fee of $630, Detour!
5. Because the county has no record of a septic system on your lot, you must have a verification inspection and have system pumped. This may include locating unknown leach field. 2 copies of site plan and floor plan required.
6. Drive 25 miles to county seat, obtain permit, Pay permit fee $409. Call Environmental Specialist to schedule appt for tank verification.
7. Roadblock! The name and phone number you were given is incorrect, obtain correct name and phone number, schedule appt.
8. Contact septic tank pumping contractor, make appt slightly earlier than Inspector so that tank is empty on arrival.

Come Thurs pm we'll see what new twists and turns await us! Remember! Our shit is THEIR bread and butter!

Poop story standby alert

After a second two hour wade through building permit bureaucracy, following immediately on the heals of our tax preparation appointment, it was determined that we need to have the septic system inspected (Verified) which of course opens fate to a wide range of possibilites. Fortunately, I KNOW that it is a concrete tank (no falling though rotten tanks tops here!) But more plans need to be drawn, permits applied for, and appointments made. And, considering the tank hasn't been pumped in maybe 25 years, a pump out. (This also means I will call in professionals, and not be tempted to do it myself.)

In hindsight, to make this a truly wonderful day I should have had a dentist appt, but that's not until the 30th.

Still life with Lily

If Boski wants to flaunt cute kitty pics in an attempt to woo readers...

BRING IT ON!!!

Mind games

Once again, Drunken Housewife, has inspired me! If you visit her site, think soft lovely thoughts, perhaps sing a lullaby.

ANYWAY, many, many years ago I worked with a man who probably could have been crowned as King of the Passive/Aggressives. I remember three stories he told me. The first two involve cruises.

#1. He and his wife were on a cruise many years ago before it was popular among younger people, so most of the passengers were elderly. It seemed EVERYONE was curious how this young couple could afford the cruise, so he told them that they had won an all expense paid vacation, plus money just by returning a coupon in the mail.

#2 As the boat approached S.F., He was in the bar, with an Australian bar tender, who remarked about what a magnificent sight the GG bridge was. My friend, not missing a beat, says, "Yes, it's great, but it's not as wonderful as the original" He proceeded to weave a tale about how the original had come down in the "Great Quake".

#3 Before most of you were born, there was a time when gas stations were predominently full service. My friend had worked at a station during a time when the parent Company advertised that the attendant would brush the bugs out of your radiator if asked. This station had decided that it was easier to blow the bugs out with the air hose. The problem was that only the "lower" island (it was on a slope) had an air hose. One day an elderly lady drove in, and my friend heard her ask "Could you use your wiskbroom?" to which he replied cheerfully, "Just pull it down, and we'll BLOW IT OUT!" Apparently, the question had actually been, "Can I use your restroom?" The lady drove off in a huff, and wrote letters of complaint on up the chain, which caused calls to the station, which when the story was retold caused enormous entertainment. He told me this story with a straight face. I believe the story, I'm not so sure of his innocence.

Neighbors Part two

New neighbors, whose lot abuts the rear of bad neighbor, take on this family as a “project” to help them learn how to parent. They become friends with new neighbors (Earth Mother and High Tech Father and 3 sweet girls) , making a positive impact on them. At least for awhile. New neighbors tell bad neighbors “like it is.”

Mom gets off drugs (supposedly) and gets a job working for the Peacock County Health Dept. She embezzles money and ends up arrested for embezzlement, and then arrested for drugs in our County. She went to trial and landed a year in jail. During this time the Older son (16?)becomes, essentially, the head of house. Dad works constantly and there are male teens constantly at the house—partying a lot. Daughter eventually goes to live with a neighbor after Mom begs the neighbor to take daughter in. Felt daughter would be safer, and they might be capable of dealing with her lice infestation.

Several times a week during the early morning hours, a car would drive by shouting loud obscenities and threats toward Elder son . Someone has not been playing well with others in school. It wakes us and other neighbors up. This continues off-and-on for several months.

Upon release, Earth Mother gets Mom involved with her daughter’s school. Mom’s in therapy as well as daughter.

I approach Dad, the bad neighbor, about helping him get rid of the non-working vehicles. Earth Mother also pushes Mom and Dad to clean up yard and get rid of cars. Earth Mother and I pay for 1 car to be towed. After several more weeks, Donna’s car finally gets towed. The 3rd car was to be given to son. Eventually it disappears.

Elder son has plans to join Coast Guard. He drops out of high school. He has belonged to Sea Scouts for a few years. Not sure what happened, but THAT bridge is burned. He starts getting drunk and starting fights downtown. (underage) He is arrested, is not bailed out. After he eventually goes before a judge on a Friday, and is given probation, he is arrested again on the same charges on the following Monday night. This fight was a drug dispute with a Coast Guard sailor! (Another bridge burned) He does some more time, and upon release gets a job as an apprentice electrician. So now he’s making more than his step dad. When work slows, he is laid off because he is the only employee who has problems showing up on time and taking off a lot of days when he didn’t feel well. More drinking, more fighting, more jail, another good job in an auto body place. Now he’s driving.

Oct/Sept 2004 – Mom and Dad decide to marry. We pull weeds in their driveway anticipating their wedding and to reward them for cleaning up the driveway. Had wedding in their backyard, inviting some of the neighbors.

2005 – Small trailer is placed in their driveway, right next to our bedroom window, to be used “by the boys” as a place to hang out with their friends. Becomes a nightmare—loud parties, drinking, fighting. Teens in and out all day long, even when “boys” not around. Trailer has widows knocked out, etc. Mom and Dad begin to place plants around it to “hide” it more from view.

SWAT Team shows up and arrests Younger son for home invasion and pistol whipping the resident (But he was a drug dealer!) Caught with a gun. Sent to locked facility. Did some major time, almost sent to the “Big Q” .
Cite home owner for code violations. Back yard finally gets cleaned up.
Home Owner tells us he is evicting Dad and Mom. Says he thought about evicting them many times. This does not happen, however.

2006 – Mom “disappears” for 3-4 weeks, and returns with a new boyfriend. Mom and new boyfriend stay at Earth Mother’s house. Dad moves out of house, and Mom and new boyfriend remain at Earth Mother’s house to “housesit” while Earth Mother and High Tech Dad move back to Oregon. Later, they move to another rental owned by Earth Mother and High Tech Dad.

2006 - House finally becomes vacant, landlord does half ass job of fixing it up, new renters found.

Neighbors Part one- a kinder gentler time ends

My beautiful bride wrote most of this...

In May we will have lived in our house for 30 years. We have seen a lot of neighbors on the whole block come and go. We still are only the 3rd longest residents of the block. Our northern neighbor for about 15 years was an elderly lady named Winnie. She was born in Wales but moved to our town as a young girl. She married, and had a son. She was about 80, and widowed when we moved in. Hers was the oldest house on the block, having been moved from across the street sometime long ago. Although she did not have a car, she had a driveway that would accommodate 4 cars, 2 deep, 2 wide. She had a gentleman friend name Emmitt who would visit each day, parking his 1959 chevy in the driveway. She was wonderful, kind and cheerful. Oh, and she was quiet. Eventually her son moved her into his house in Reno. She outlived him by about 5 years, just passing away this last year at over 100.

The house was "flipped" by some "frugal" investors. The next owner was a husband, wife and 2 kids. They were a bit reclusive, but still....quiet. He got a new job south of SF, so they moved and rented out the house.

Renters move in. Couple, with 2 sons, about 9 & 10 (hers) a toddler daughter (theirs). Dad and I share the same first name.

First morning we hear thunks on the side of our house. We step outside, the 2 boys are throwing rocks at the side of our house. Request for a cease fire was met with attitude.

They never seemed to finish moving in, but instead left boxes, appliances, furniture, tools, and other household stuff in boxes in the four car driveway. Their stuff managed to inch its way closer to our yard as time went on. Several times I had to move wood or other long things they had leaned against our house. Occasionally, they’d make room for a non-working car. It looked like Al’s Junkyard. They kept saying they were going to finish and get rid of the stuff. Finally, we wrote a letter to the owner, who apparently called them. By the time he got there at the end of the week, it all disappeared, except for a couple of non functioning cars. Within a week or so, things started piling up again, though not as many boxes. Now they had space for additional non-working cars. I think they had three, at one point.

Within the first several years, small things begin to go missing. Mom starts driving off with guys in sports cars and big burley biker dudes. The male half (they are not yet married, that comes later) who has blue collar workaholic tendencies, looks depressed and works even HARDER, and constantly. Does lots of "improvement" projects of dubious quality around the property. "Stuff" has been accumulating, and continues until they leave. Throughout their stay, male half would do primarily woodworking projects late into the night, highlighted by hammering and use of a high pitched planer. I would have to walk over and ask him to stop after 10pm, EACH TIME!

We had a hot tub put in our back yard, Elder & younger sons sat on their roof, smoking and watching us use the hot tub at night. I think they wanted to see us skinny dipping. Kept finding burned cigarette butts on our patio.

One night we heard a loud noise in our backyard as we happened to walk around the side of the house. Younger son had jumped over the fence and was in our backyard—he had scraped himself and was bleeding. He had no explanation why he had jumped our fence. We escorted him home pretending that we were worried that he had hurt himself.

Additional family came to “visit.” They stay for about a year. Names like Justice, Rebel and Independence (Indy) At least 10 people living in the small house. This situation went on and off for several years, one person even living in the drafty carriage house at one point, and a tent in the back yard during winter another time. One friend who stayed there and/or hung around a lot, my wife calls “Swarthy Man”. He seems to be Dad’s best friend. Another frequent guest is Donna. Donna periodically contributes to the non running car collection when a jilted lover ruins her old BMW by putting sand in the rebuilt engine.( she loves the BMW more than ANYTHING)(actually she has two) Donna is a chain smoking, loud mouthed, big boobed, blond bimbo. One year, around Christmas when my late mother in law was visiting from out of state, Donna side swiped MIL’s car the day before she was set to leave. Fortunately, swarthy man has an auto body shop, so he fixes it for free in a couple of days.

Dad manages to knock over our garbage can in the street awaiting pickup, spilling it out. I happened to be walking out the front door when this happened. He made no effort to pick it up so wife did (with some attitude, admittedly). He called her a bitch. Around this time He “went away” to a county lockup for 6 months somewhere for not paying child support.

Mom asked me to give Younger son a lecture about the hazards of messing with matches—being a fireman and all. She’s mostly concerned about fires as she had found him lighting matches and setting small things on fire. WE see him lighting small fires. I am still impressed with the prophesy of my "chat". One of the things I told him was that he was just one of those people who always gets caught.

Mom gets a new boyfriend, but Dad still lives in the house. Boyfriend was just out of jail and sometimes stayed at the house. Big fights. Dad leaves loudly, many times. They separate, but Dad comes back within a few weeks and boyfriend leaves (back to jail?) Rent a room to a Latin couple with a baby. This lasts for several months, giving way to the couple leaving and family members and swarthy man coming and going all the time. At least 8 – 10 people there again off and on for another couple years.

Neighbors

After a period of blog blank, where I couldn't think of ANYTHING to write about, Drunken Housewife ,has once again inspired me.
The only problem is this. For the worst neighbor, it is a ten year long epic tale which includes, but is not limited to, at least two felony convictions, SWAT teams, drunken family fights, Meth addiction and recovery, numerous abandoned/run over cats, lies, betrayel, abandoned vehicles in the driveway next to our bedroom, a crappy trailer which replaced the abandoned vehicles and became party central briefly, Sea Scouts, and lice.
I don't know where to begin.

Is it paranoia,cynicism, an overactive imagination...

Or is it a CONSPIRACY?

I got a notice from SBC that "our" contract is about to expire and I can UPGRADE to double my download speed for just a few bucks more. At the same time, it seems like things are running SO SLOW recently. I've done disk cleanup, Ad Cleanup, checked the defrag.

I have pictures of cats, and I'm not afraid to use them!

You can't win if you don't play. How many of YOU tried to come up with a fitting nom de blog for Iris Uber Alles?

Local vs Big Box or online buying

Somewhere recently, I read about a father/son discussion about where to make a purchase (shoes?). Dad presented the son with the idea of price vs supporting local business and people. I was reminded this afternoon of another factor in the equation. Service. It almost seems automatic that local business provides better service, but that is NOT always the case. About a year ago, she who must be obeyed, decreed that we needed new, preferably granite counter tops. This would be a substantial investment, and I thought we should shop locally. We first went to a granite company just a few blocks from our house. We walked in the door which chimed, announcing our arrival. We walked past a door where there was a person on the phone. We waited, and waited, and waited, and waited some more. Eventually another person walked in without acknowledging us, rummaged around for a car part and left. We waited some more, looking at a few samples that were laying around. Finally the first person came in, and we explained our interest. He seemed bored, offered us a couple of samples and we were on our way. No one met us when we returned the samples. Another local company specializes in kitchen and bathroom remodels. As soon as we indicated that we only wanted a new counter top, they lost interest. Still wanting (for some reason, are we masochists?) to support local business, we thought we could buy the new sink and faucet. We were shuffled off to Jessica, a cheery young girl about 20. We explained the measurements of the counter which were custom made. We loved a Farm house sink and picked a faucet to go with it. The sink did not have holes for the faucet, it would have to be in the counter top. I explained several times the space limitations. I got a cheery "Oh, It'll be just fine" The sink is a special order, no return. There is (or I should say there WAS a 25% restocking fee) $1300 later the sink and faucet arrive. I start taking measurements, there is NO DAMN WAY this is going to work. Jessica cheerfully refunded the money for the faucet (minus 25%) and when I asked if they could at least help me try to sell the sink, "Oh NO, we couldn't do THAT"
We eventually sold the sink for half price on Craig's List, bought a sink that WOULD work from a local hardware store (which got bought out by Home Depot right after we got it) and had the counter done through Costco, where we had a personal rep who walked us through the whole thing, meeting with us at the granite company etc.
I can deal with surly teenaged help, but the attitude of some local business's is just beyond my understanding.

Journey To Colder Climes....and back!

The good news,

I had Fish and Chips, gluten free, at a wonderful small place, for the first time in 10 years. There were 2 gluten free beers available, but I don't drink.
Strolled through History and art museums and galleries ad nauseum.
Visited with old friends and relatives.
We bought a new table for our living room at a wonderful place called Renovation Hardware.
On our way back, spent a nice evening at a B&B called Iris, in Ashland OR (see photos)
Was introduced to Bubble Teas.
ALMOST got stuck in snow trying to get to a viewpoint.

The bad news,

While playing fetch with my step sisters dog, Jazzy, he injured himself to the extent that he will probably have to be put down. (Torn miniscus both rear legs) I feel TERRIBLE! We didn't play that hard, honest!

Got ANOTHER cold!

Why we even polish the bottom of the fire engine

New longer, but better title.

We polish the bottom of our fire engines for the same reason your mom told you to always wear clean underwear.

This is old, but I had forgotten about it.

Question for the ages

Is that Lonely Repairman lonely because he's TOO DAMNED EXPENSIVE? Just a thought that occured to me when our 20 year old dryer died one day before a week long visit to the Land o' Ports.
Actually, it didn't die a totally natural death. It started with what I interpreted as a death rattle. (Frayed belt OR bad bearing on an idler arm) These being things I used to be able to do, I attempted entry during halftime of a playoff game. Now it's dead. So the question becomes, repair or replace? The local appliance store is closed on Mondays. Our dolly is at my mom's house which is scheduled to be fumigated today. But I just CAN'T dump money into a 20 year old dryer. So it's out the door at 6:30 am, get dolly, then to Home Depot by 7:30. They carry two models of THE BRAND, but only one (maybe) instock. So off to Lowe's, they don't seem to carry electric dryers. And everything takes 7 days. What's up with THAT? Drive in commute traffic to SEARS? Why not? Get there at 8:56, wait, 9 am not open, no signs as to when they DO open, anywhere.
Back to Home Depot, they do indeed have my second choice in stock. Buy,load drive home, uninstall old dryer. Spend 30 minutes trying to get old cord off due to nuts being inaccessable. How did I get them on? New dryer uses screws, but only gives me two of needed three. Dig through jar of old screws. (Watch your filthy mind!) Go to attach vent, can't find clear instructions in manual, call Home Depot, third person I talk to says "I dunno" and gives me THE BRANDS hotline number. Wait on hold FOREVER, finally get a person who disconnects me. Go to THE BRAND.com find downloadable installation instructions which are not any clearer. Attempt half ass hookup, which fails.
FINALLY use a flashlight to peer into the innards and able to figure out how vent hooks up.
6 hours 20 minutes. I guess this is what it means to be a guy. Sometimes I'm a smart feller other times a fart smeller.
Now it's $30 to have the waste hauler haul it, or $10-20 to take it to the dump myself, well, I have a week to think about it.

Another subject, I think I'm OUT of poop stories. As to why I seemed to have so many, I think it's because of my agedness. So if you don't have any or many poop stories, they lie in your future, lucky you. I hope to not accumulate anymore.

Pains of parenting

It's a painful time when your little one starts testing her independence, taking chances, and making friends you don't approve of.

Soon they're looking anywhere for their next drink...

And they end up passed out in a gutter

Poop stories

One of my new favorite blogs made the point that basically poop stories are popular. Then at another new favorite site, "Norman" had a pretty good body fluid story. Both of which reminded me of a Fire department poop story.
Background- Most departments work a 24 hour shift, changing at about 8am. The oncoming shift, after coffee and conversations spends an hour or two cleaning the station. So you're cleaning someone else's mess. There is pressure to NOT leave too much of a mess, The alternative, always threatened, is to get up extra early and clean the station before you leave.
At some point, the waking shifts began finding the primary toilet unflushed every morning. Nobody seems to have said anything, but certainly there must have been suspects. (Since it wasn't being talked about, nobody realized it was happening on ALL three shifts. One morning, a shift awoke to find a runny pool of excrement IN FRONT of the toilet, with shitty footprints leading to a shower stall. So NOW they're ALL talking about it. WHO DID IT! And nobody was going to clean it up, because that would be confessing! 8am is approaching, the oncoming shift hears about it, "well somebody damn sure better clean it up, we're not going to do it!"
Finally, Ed, one of the best, most consciencious guys I ever worked with, who also had cooked a very spicy meal the evening before, cleaned it up using the bath towels provided by a towel service. The "used" towels were put in the hamper by the back door for pick up.
The story has two lines at this point.
First part, the oncoming shift had a "Good Ol' Boy" captain who liked to work on his car after hours. Typically, when called for dinner, he would walk in the back door, grab a used towel to wipe his face and then his hands so he didn't soil the bathroom sink too badly with grease etc.
Need I say more? I would would have been off on stress disability. As it was, I almost had to go home because my sides hurt so much from laughing.
Second Part, Now that we're all talking, it becomes apparent that "The Mad Shitter" is not from within. Suspicious looking feces have been found outside on nights when the front door was locked. (It was a simpler time) The captain, now highly motivated to capture the fiend, sets a trap. He goes to Radio Shack, and get a motion detector and rigs the alarm to a light by his bed. The front door is left unlocked, at about 5am, the motion detector is tripped. Forces are gathered, a little time passes. The assembled firefighters rush into the bathroom and find the paperboy, with his pants down, taking a dump. It seems the lad had issues. He was hauled away by the PD. We had a new paperdelivery person after that.

Traitors in our midst

Since I read THIS, it all becomes a lot clearer.

The following is unrelated feline cheesecake.

Lily meets Charlie

You'll have to trust me on this one. A better photographer would have gotten more of Charlie. I THINK I can see a leg.

Full Disclosure

In the interest of full disclosure, and because a reader of this blog, (33.3% of my readership) witnessed it. Charlie the Seagull, let me feed him a hot dog 1/1/07, in front of a bunch of people no less.

Jeep Jerky

My Esteemed Deceased Stepfather, a man of many talents, was a hunter. He took great pride in his marksmanship, his respect for, and safe handling of guns. For many years he was a member of a hunting group that had exclusive rights to hunt on a large private land holding in Northern California. He was basically unavailable on weekends and holidays during deer season. There was a cabin that was used as a base of operations where large quantities of food and alcohol were prepared and consumed. Pranks were played, and stories spun, boys being boys.
The hunting was done from jeeps in very steep terrain. One year, EDS, while in the back seat of the jeep, spotted a large buck down in a ravine. The brake was set, EDS stood in the back, braced himself on the roll bar, took careful aim through the powerful rifle scope, gently squeezed the trigger until the rifle fired. Still looking through the scope, he saw the buck look up, then prance away unharmed. His hunting buddies started laughing. The bullet had struck the front edge of the red jeep's hood.
EDS's stepson, moi, has been known to file away stories like this for future use. As Christmas approached, I had an idea. I went to a local body shop and obtained a crumbled piece of red sheet metal from a smooshed vehicle. I cut it into strips, wrapped them in tissue paper which I put in a nice box. I then created a label announcing EDS Jeep Jerky! 100% of your daily iron intake in one serving. You shoot it you eat it. And then there were various testimonials from celebrities talking about the wonderful qualities of the product. It was wrapped up real nice and given as a Christmas present. It was a conversation piece for some time to come.

Views from the edge

This was taken early this morning, peak gust was 50 mph at about 3:45a.m.

This was taken about 8 a.m. wind at 30mph. It was hard to stand.

This was the only damage I found. It was next to the house behind my mom's. Just missed a Propane tank. Couldn't tell if the other house was damaged.

Charlie the Seagull

This is Charlie, the Sea Gull. He has been a fixture (figuratively) at my late mother's house for almost 30 years. He's easily identifiable by a "scar" on his neck. First, my step dad was trained to feed him hot dogs by hand. After my step dad passed, Charlie went away for a couple of weeks, but then returned. After a breaking-in period, my mom & Charlie came to an agreement where she was allowed to hand feed him. After a couple of years, my wife and I became apprentices who Charlie would SOMETIMES allow to be fed by. During this time he seemed to have a girlfriend he brought along who was named Charlene. After my mom died, Charlie again went away for a couple of weeks before returning. This time he seemed to have become a vegetarian, rejecting hot dogs in favor of bread. This lasted for about 6 months. He's back on hot dogs, but does not wish to be fed by hand. I think he doesn't want to get attached.

What if I didn't say something?

It's getting so I'm feeling like an old know it all, giving advice where none was sought. (Refering to comments in other's blogs) I'm afraid I haven't found the "OFF" button in my brain after 30 years of analyzing the possibilities and probabilities for given input. But I'm haunted by the possibility of something really bad happening if I stay silent. Every year around this time it seems like there is a family wiped out by Carbon Monoxide poisoning. "If only" are words that haunt emergency responders. I guess it'll take awhile longer to get those old responses out of my system. Maybe I should get a part time job.

My Gluten Intolerance story, or a cure for insomnia

To start with, Gluten Intolerance is not an aversion to large butts.

Gluten Intolerance, or Celiac disease, can have many different manifestations and may show up at birth or anytime during one's life. It is thought that some people are genetically predisposed to having this. It is NOT an allergy, rather it is an auto immune response to a protein found in wheat, rye, barley and millet. They guesstimate that the incidence is about 1 in 133 people, although many people may not be symptomatic.

My particular "brand" is called Dermatitus Herpetiformis. My onset was about 8 years ago. I have read some papers that theorize that some onsets may be caused by stress and/or infections kicking the immune response into hyperdrive. I was both highly stressed and coming off an infection. The symptoms were very itchy, watery pustules on my knees, elbows, scalp and rear end. The literature describes the itchiness as "unbearable", but I found it to be only very uncomfortable.

After a LOT of testing, I was diagnosed. My initial reaction was that I could not give up pizza, sourdough bread and chocolate chip cookies. I was given a prescription for a drug called Dapsone which is also used to treat Leprosy. (That made me feel good!) The dosage was increased over time while my blood count and liver function were being monitored weekly. The side effect of Dapsone is that it "ages" your red cells prematurely. The goal was to give the highest dose possible without putting me into anemia. I have to say that the lab's blood count level for anemia and mine seemed to be different, and I felt very weak and tired even though I was above the threshold.

Another effect I felt was diminished mental function. I'm usually pretty good with logical thinking and retaining trivial facts. I felt like I was developing Alzheimer's, and I did not know that this was a side effect of the gluten intolerance.

I discontinued the Dapsone when I could no longer stand the anemia. I tried to become gluten free. The deal maker was reading that not being gluten free increased my chances for colon cancer by a significant amount. Going gluten free was harder in the days before labeling laws were strengthened. I was helped greatly by online lists of forbidden versus acceptable items.

For instance, who would immediately realize that licking of stamps and envelopes would now be verboten? Or the use of some kinds of medical tape? I never knew that Soy Sauce was made by fermenting in wheat. (There is one made with oats available in health food stores) Imitation crab meat-no go. Many ice creams (mono & Di glycerides- may be a wheat product) Label reading has become my life.

It's been a learning experience. Eating out is a challenge. I still have a better situation than many. On a scale of 1 to 10 for severity, I would say I'm about a 3. Some people are SO sensitive that eating a burger cooked on a grill where a bun has been warmed will give them severe reactions. I have accidentally eaten a bite of flour tortilla and all I got was an itchy rash on my stomach for 2 weeks.

Tests for gluten intolerance have gotten better and cheaper. I had to have 2 different pencil eraser sized hunks of meat taken out of my knee to be sent to UCSF for testing. I don't think they do that anymore. They used to do intestinal biopsies for other kinds of celiac testing, and I don't think that is necessary now.

I have read papers that theorize all kinds of things being tied to gluten intolerance, Crohn's disease, schizophrenia, arthritis, learning disabilities, autism and more. If you or a loved one has a problem that you can't get a finger on, or just want to try another way, I recommend a gluten free diet for a couple of months and see if there is a difference. What could it hurt?

Click on any of the Celiac sites on my sidebar to learn more.

Torturing people in menial jobs

It's not right, they are people too. I've responded a number of times to a telemarketing center for medical emergencies. It's not a place you'd want to be . It seemed very high pressure, lot's of junk food, out of shape people, heart attacks, hyperventilation, diabetes, seizures etc.

Having said that, this is pretty funny.


http://howtoprankatelemarketer.ytmnd.com/