Still just grieving

It will happen some day - of this I am certain, but at present I can't stop crying over Booker - and for Jake in a small way, too.  My beautiful first lads - gone far too soon.

When we rescued Jakey, it was a spur of the moment decision which I will never regret.  Never.  He deserved so much more time to enjoy life - a better life than the one he'd been dealt, and there's just no shaking that thought.  Going into it we knew he had FIV, and it was apparent that the insidious disease had taken quite a toll on Jake's body from whiskers to toes - but it didn't matter.  

He was barely making it when someone blessedly decided to save this skeletal frame of a cat from the meager existence he'd come to know.  I am grateful it happened, but that feeling of gratitude is fundamentally tied to another feeling I almost can't put my finger on.  It's a feeling of incredulity, I think.  At least, it's the closest thing I can identify that makes sense. 

Why did it take so long for another person to recognize his loveliness (despite the grime and missing fur, the sunken eyes, and the nonstop drooling; the frightening countenance he couldn't help)?  

His character was sweet and trusting, and he was loving beyond comprehension for everything he endured.  That was the way he presented himself if you stopped to really experience him, but you would have to make yourself look beyond (or behind) the outward appearance to do so.  Not many people did, but for me it was something about his eyes that drew me in and and held my heart. 

As cheated as I feel for Karl and myself, I can't help crying for Jake's sake that we couldn't have given him more - more time for love, warmth, clean surroundings, plentiful food and water, companionship...a family.  Simply put: just more time.

I fell in love with Jake in a fleeting glance.  Karl was a little reticent after having just lost Flop (and just before her, Cleo), but he became smitten once we met Jake face-to-face.  This scrawny, scarred, lack-of-fur, toothless and drooling thing charged out of his kennel and into our arms, as though we were long-lost family members - and that sealed the deal.  We were his family as much as he would be our boy.  He was the missing link in our clan, and there was no denying it was the right thing to do.

Sadly, his days were numbered; we knew it was a matter of maybe a year, but it was a year we would commit to wholeheartedly and unreservedly.  

As it turned out, the end was not to be that far off.  His poor body had endured all it could of the ravages of FIV, and despite multiple vet trips and doses of antibiotics to kill off the recurring respiratory infections, he let us know he was tired and ready to move on to a less painful place. 

Five and one-half months passed so quickly.  Too quickly.

Oh, Jake... I love and miss you, so, so much.

Booker was the young man Dottie brought to our care not long thereafter, and he was quite a change from Jake.  Pounds and pounds of difference.  We went from emaciated drooling happiness (and mostly white all over) to hissing orange pounds of fear.  Whenever I slipped into a teary mode thinking of Jake, Booker would find me and peal off a fearful face of teeth and a horrifying hiss.  Had it not been for the fact that he had once been someone's cat (this was clear because he had been neutered and front declawed), I would have feared Booker's behavior more.  For me, he presented as a feral cat, but with Dottie he was a mushy lad.  Even with Karl he was calm and accepting of some attention, so I hoped it would be just a matter of time.

Over time, Booker and I developed a love and companionship, and he became my shadow.  If I left a room, he followed immediately.  We talked and shared chairs, and he would ask to be held from time to time!  He loved my stitching, and anticipated those hours in the day when I would sit and stitch, and he would watch excitedly as the needle would rise and fall, dragging the tempting string through the material.  Oh, how he trembled at the thought of catching the threads and silk pieces, and every once in a great while would leave his comfy corner of the bed to climb onto a small perch on the chair just to be closer to the action!  His silly joy with being given a go at my threads brings a smile to my aching heart. 

Book wasn't to be here as long as we anticipated.  A small lump was detected on his lower jaw, which grew quickly through the late summer.  He was taken in for dental work in August and the x-rays showed the mass was actually an out of control, inoperable cancer.  The doctor was very kind and asked how we wanted to proceed. 

We spoke of letting him return home with doses of heavy medication to keep him comfortable for a number of weeks, but that would only give us time to say goodbye - it would not be the decent thing to do to Booker.  The other choice was to have them end the procedure and put him down while he was still groggy.  Neither option was ideal, and to choose between the only two presented was heartbreaking. 

Well, from here you know the rest of the story.  I suppose this is why/how I lost my stitching mojo, and why I am not feeling capable of producing any handwork at present.  Perhaps soon the fog will lift, but until that happens I am surviving only on getting up each day and just going back and forth to work, looking for opportunities for Karl to find employment, and performing the least of the mundane daily routine items.  Well, mundane, save for one additional little occupant in the house.

We have a new friend for Odin, who was most sorely missing Booker.  Book's departure left Odin lost and confused; spending hours every day crying out for his big buddy, endlessly searching the house from one end to the other.  Karl couldn't think on replacing Book, and would not entertain looking at faces online to find another needy prospect to fill out our family, so one weekend I took matters into my own hands, and that is how Simon came to be.  He is helping to replace some of the grief with his silly antics, but everything about this is going to take time.  More on our new family member another time.

See you on the other side.

Endings and beginnings - and all of the stuff that happens in between

Simply Simon

It's been two weeks of Simon already - two weeks today.  Odin adores him, and is having infinite fun in the romping and chasing category, although deep in the recesses of his brain I am certain there are remnant thoughts of Booker;  traces of affection and respect, and an unidentifiable longing for his big brother...gone but never forgotten.

It took two months for Simon to come into our lives.  No, there wasn't a lot of searching that happened, but Karl couldn't let himself open up completely to making a choice and bringing home a companion for Odin.  I understood that, and I empathized, but I also saw a need to move forward during our collective period of grief.

Besides all of that, Odin was extremely miserable - lonely and alone, and mourning the loss of his buddy.  He still jumped at the odd noise around the house, and called incessantly for our large orange sweetie, and truth be told it was getting  harder to deal with on a daily basis.

I was determined to fill the void left by Booker's departure, but also felt pangs of guilt in ways I am sure many pet owners will understand.  What felt like disloyalty to Book was understandable, but not insurmountable.  Karl and I could have gone on a while without inviting a new cat into our lives, but Odin was inconsolable.  That became the impetus on my part - it made Karl miserable in other ways, but it gave me a reason to keep my heart open to the perfect opportunity.

My mind was set on an older female (for reasons I won't bore you with here and now), but Simon was the one who presented himself a couple of Saturdays ago, and the rest is history.  As you can see from the photo, he is a scrawny kitten of approximately 18 weeks of age - so that makes him about 4 months old.  He's tiny, and as it turned out (despite vet papers provided by the rescue agency), he had fleas; we found this out the hard way.  Both boys are wearing flea collars now (yes, Odin ended up with them, too).  But this wasn't the worst of it, either.

Last Saturday became a very expensive run to the vet clinic which the rescue bunch had taken Simon's litter to.  Ended up with two vaccinations and an oral treatment, plus the rather expensive flea collars.  And I won't even make you guess that one of the treatments was for tapeworm.  Yup, tapeworm!  So, here we are, $155 poorer, but Simon is that much better for it.  Hopefully his robust appetite will help to put some meat on his little bones over the next few months.  Right now he's curious, playful, loving, and excellent company for Odin.

The splendid Booker - rest in peace

Farewell, Booker...you are much loved and will be forever missed.

Oh, yeah - and another little thing

Apparently, the person formerly known as my 'dad' passed away January 10, 2017.

Who knew?  [shoulder shrug]

Not a day late, just the day after

Yup, yesterday was Christmas, and I managed to keep from uttering 'the phrase" to all but two people, - so, I feel as though I've achieved almost complete hermit status.

All of my cards made it out of my hands and to their recipients (at least I hope they made it to their destinations), but Karl dragged his feet and missed getting one of his (I say three, he says one) out the door and on the way.  Not a bad average

Karl and I each took a turn speaking with mom, but I truly wish she were here - or, at the very least, much closer. it would make visiting easier.  I am aware she doesn't want to leave her beloved northern tundra, her moose and deer, and that icy lake, but I think it's time to get her south of the bridge.  Much as she dislikes living in the land of the trolls, she should be moving into closer proximity to the bulk of her sibs and kinder - sooner rather than later.

We had dinner at the kids' new home in Holly on Christmas eve; it was fairly low-key, and the meal was delicious. 

Just in case you are behind the eight ball, Brian and Angels bought a condo - not too far from their old apartment - and it's a world of difference in size and sounds and smells.  Needless to say, the honeymooners are happy in their new digs, and the pets are settled in, too.  Bud will need to look a little harder to find work with a decent income in that direction, just to keep from having to drive great distances in his old car, but that was the decision they made.

No complaint here, but an observation: it's been a 'warm' season so far - between Thanksgiving and Christmas - and the weather peeps are calling for more of the same... and warmer!  With the bulk of winter ahead of us, I wouldn't mind a bit of this sort of thing lasting the next month or two.  Yes, I do prefer cooler temps to warmer ones, but you take what you can get, right?

The twins are doing well: Booker is far more playful again, so hopefully I can get Karl to play along when I am at work and keep Book moving more to rid him of some chunky monkey pounds.  Even a Maine Coon can be too large.  And Odin is doing better intestinal-ly speaking.  He remains rambunctious and Odin-rific, keeping Booker jumping with his spastic antics; and the FiV is well off in the background for the time being.

OK, so I've covered all of the bases for the time being.  I was trying to be informative and still keep from being too verbose; practice makes perfect, or so they say.  For now, I am going to tidy up a bit, then plunk myself in a chair and sort through some old papers and balance the bank account against the statement!  In the background I will binge on The Great British Baking Show, starting at the first episode.  Yes, I've seen them all before, but it's enjoyable (tasty) viewing, and well worth a second screening.  From there, goodness knows what I'll do, but it will be in the house and not out and about with throngs of people or crazy 'me first' drivers.

Oh, there is one item of note which I didn't go into, but it will keep for the time being.

Blessings to one and all, and safe travels to those on the roads or in the air ~

A Good Year

Perhaps I should have called it, "A Momentous Year."  Or even, "A Year of Grand Change."  Oh, there are too many other titles to bestow on this year - always speaking in the familial - but it definitely was a year of accomplishment and change, tumult (the good sort) and beginnings/endings.

At this time of year it is common to concentrate on being thankful, on joyous celebrations of coming together, burying the hatchet, seeing the good in everyone (even if there is none in some folks to see).  It is the time folks reflect on the year as it races towards another finish line, and think themselves better off, or better people, or whatever form of improved they care to blind themselves with.

However, under the heading of "my sons," it truly was a year to be thankful for.

Karl graduated from junior college with 2 Associate's, and

Brian married his lovely friend and partner, Angela.
Even I was able to come by a full time job this year ('bout darn time!).

No, I won't spend paragraphs going on and on about any of this.  Suffice to say, thank you, God, for all of your love and goodness.

But I will ask: why does it seem as though the majority of us only wait until this time of the year to be thankful for the many blessings which come our way over the course of 365 days?  Shouldn't we be more diligent in our thanks, prayers, and praise when the blessings occur?  Think about it... then respond appropriately.

With love and gratitude -

Up before the alarm

'Natch.'

Odin had been exhibiting signs of illness, so I took him to our 'regular' vet - the family vet we found at the start of the girls' decline in health as old ladies.  The office people were very kind when we had to put down Flop, and then Hobbes - I only wish we had been their client for Cleo's sake.  But all of that was eons ago, or so it feels.  It stills aches as though that was just last month, and since I am a soft touch, recounting all of it will most likely always move me to tears.

Anyway, the last trip I took to the 'family vet' late spring, found me pleading to have the tri-test repeated on Odin - the test which tells of impending doom (heartworm, FiV, FLv).  Upon adopting 'O' we were told that test had been run at the rescue vet office, and that he was free of all three - thank God.  After having 'lost' Jake no less than half a year too soon, I was not interested in shattering my still-healing heart again... at least, not right away.

A little history: 'O' was found in a field, frozen to a towel, starving, bald in areas, obviously suffering from fleas, and (as we've been told) stinkier than 5-day old roadkill on a 99*F day.  What was scarier was this semi-feral little boy had the imposing 'forearms' of Popeye, 9" nails, and a limited vocabulary consisting of "now," "more," and "%!#&!"   The latter we call his cuss word, and he uses it a lot.  He was in rough shape.

To complicate his hard-scrabble life even further is the lack of vision in one eye, missing teeth and, as we found out a couple of weeks into life with Odin, a definite digestive issue.  In short, 'O' was a hot mess, but he was our hot mess, so we set out to improve his life in every way possible.

Fast-forwarding 1-1/2 years finds Odin thriving and turning into quite the tremendously needy love bug.  Neither he nor Booker are lap cats (more's the pity), but they are wonderful lads, and good company nearly any time of the day. 

Anyhow...

...several months back, I took Odin to the vet, wondering about getting some answers and fixes to help him feel better for whatever might have been the matter.  His breathing seemed 'off' and was growing worse day by day.  His poops should have solidified after more than a year on medicated food, too.  And the smell from his mouth...what was that?!?  But it was his breathing that most concerned me, and mostly because Jake's demise was marked by a similar onset of frequent and worsening respiratory episodes.  Could we help 'O'?  Oh, how I prayed that we could - and quickly.

Instead of waiting five weeks for the first non-emergency appointment with our usual vet, I called the local Humane Society and asked if I could get Odin in to be seen any sooner.  Due to my new daughter-in-law working there, 'O' was moved up on the list quickly, and in no time we were in the office and speaking with a doctor.  X-rays were taken, blood was drawn - and most importantly, they listened to my request for having a repeat on the tri-test. 

It wasn't a long wait before the doctor was informing me of the positive results for feline immunodeficiency virus (FiV = kitty aids).  My heart sank.  The x-rays revealed no mass of any sort on Odin's airway or lungs, so the respiratory distress was all due to the FiV. 

He was prescribed a rather strong antibiotic, which made a huge improvement in his breathing in no time, and knocked out the oral/nasal infection in nothing flat.  Also, 'O's' lost another tooth since then, but everything else seems to be at bay - and so we take it day by day.  On the other hand, the antibiotic created a new problem in the form of colitis, and now Odin wakes with a scream and a start, having to poo immediately.  This is bad news for sleeping through the night and for the rug in my bedroom, but it's all doable because it means we have a little more time with our sweet diminutive weirdo.  For a good couple of weeks I'd been awakened way before the alarm - sometimes two-to-three times per night.  Happily, these instances have all but subsided.

Ultimately, my wish is not to trade one set of problems for another.  I don't want to keep the respiratory infections at bay at the cost of Odin feeling crampy and suffering from unpredictable diarrhea - that just wouldn't be fair... or kind.  Therefore, we will watch and listen to and care for Odin with every ounce of love and attention we can muster, until he tells us the time has finally come.  'Natch.'

Recently, Odin was started on a new prescriptive food, and seems alright with it.  While it took some time to get him weaned from the first prescriptive to this new one, I can finally say he is eating most of his meals each day - and that is a blessing.  The abrupt screaming poos are winding down, although I must remain on guard when he begins to cry incessantly, and wander from place to place.  Karl is not as attentive during the day while I am at work, so there have been many days when I've arrived home to find a secret, stinky gift from Odin laying in wait for me in front of my closet. 

Oh, 'O'!  I love you, love you, love you.

Dogsitting

Dog-like substance was delivered earlier this morning.
Cats have scattered, returned, scattered and perched, been watchful, wary, and weirded-out.

Somewhere around 7AM the kids pulled into the driveway, running behind schedule and concerned with leaving their pup in the care of someone else who may - or may not - keep him from harm.  They didn't say so, but I knew it was an issue for them.  Ted has stayed with us in the past - overnight, even - but that was before recent events, so the kids are understandably nervous.

A little history -
Several weeks ago Teddy was with the other dog grandparents for a long weekend, and when they got home from church they found that he had gotten into a hazardous situation involving a bottle of fish oil pills.  Yup, an entire bottle of fish oil (meant for humans), left where the opportunistic Ted could get his muzzle on it.  And, boy howdy, did he make a job out of it; not even a few pills escaped his notice.  By the time the g'rents arrived home, Ted was beginning to exhibit signs of toxic proportions, but nothing was done to get him care at a vet's office.

Time was of the essence but the errant parents made no move to get Teddy help - and it would be hours before the kids found out something had happened.  Hours that could make a difference for their beloved pooch.  Hours that would determine Ted's long-term health prognosis.

B&A returned to find their lovely pooch had been fairly ucky for a while, were made aware he had ingested 'some' fish oil pills, and knew his poops were growing 'schloopy', so they grabbed up the sweet pup and made plans for how to prep him for what they figured would be eventual diarrhea.

During hair trimming, Ted began the horrendous vomiting which signaled a violent turn in the toxic mess to come.  There was blood mixed with other matter, and with each successive puke there was more blood.  Bud tried to remain calm (while asking for a pair of clean socks), and helped a somewhat frantic Angela with 'what next'.

Even though she works in a vet surg' arena, it's a whole other ballgame when the patient is actually your baby.

I believe they were both panicky to a degree, but they managed to find an emergency vet close to home, and to get the three of them there in one piece.  From that point on it was finding out what was going on, what might happen next, and making choices on how to proceed.  By this time it was closing in on midnight, and they were faced with some challenging decisions.  It was far too late to give Teddy ipecac, so waiting and treating was pretty well the order of things for the immediate future.

Ted was terribly dehydrated and a mess at both ends, so he was left with the vet and the kids went home for anxious hours and fitful sleep.  The waiting game involved possible aspiration of vomit, which could result in pneumonia.

That was immediate issue numero uno point-B.  Numero uno Point-A was the dehydration, and helping to stop the Mount Vesuvius-ness of Ted at the 'in hole' and the 'out hole.'  Once released, he was on a course of meds to help flush the toxins from his liver and kidneys (and at the very least, hopefully mitigate the damage to an extent), but it's all still a wait-and-see sort of thing.  Had the parents reacted with a call to poison control, or a trip to their vet as soon as they found he had ingested so much of the fish oil, things could have been set in motion to keep Ted from such a serious, and life-threatening ordeal.  But you can't go back.

It can take up to a year to find out if he will develop pancreatitis from the extreme amount of fish oil ingested (which would bring with it a horde of additional health issues).  Worse yet, he is now at a much higher risk of becoming diabetic, and that won't be evident immediately, either.  For the time being, Ted is doing well, and is more like his old pre-fish oil self.

History aside, Karl and I are large and in charge today, and I find myself surrounded by boys.
Furry boys, antsy boys, nervous boys, hissy boys, and displaced boys.  Round, skinny, bristling, and tall boys... and I love 'em all.  Let's see what the day brings, shall we?  Have fun at Yuma-con, B&A.

What's on your calendar?

Poor Booker, et.al

Long story short, we adopted a new rescue cat, who is every inch the opposite of Jake.

Ah, Jake.  Will there ever come a day when I do not say or think your name and experience heartache and tears?  [lip quivering, eyes moistening]

Jake was a fragile boy of ten years, riddled with end-stage FiV and the onset of renal failure.  He was beautiful for all of the oddest reasons, and a sloppy boy who needed constant cleaning and grooming due to the ravages of the FiV.

He was also beautiful because of the most obvious thing - he just simply was.  I think it was Jake's soul that shone through all of his ailments and physical scars, and I miss him deeply.

While Jake will never be replaced - can never be replaced - we did invite a new member into our growing tribe.  But more about this newbie in a moment.

Hobbes was our one remaining girl from the divorce/move, and bless our little fur mama, she had room in her territorial heart for Jake despite all early outward appearances.  When it came time to let Jake go in peace, it turned out that Hobbes had also come to accept (and depend upon) his presence in the house.  She did her usual mama-cat thing and wandered the house carrying a mouthful of food for him.  Calling to Jake to come eat, her calls of course went unanswered.  I can't tell you which of us was more blue, but it was clear to see we needed to find another kitty she could share her family with.

And so it was we opened our hearts and home to a rather large three year old.

Enter the newbie
Booker Sullivan is a huge youngster; healthy and playful.  From the looks of him there is a large helping of Maine Coon, but his fur gives away his mixed breeding.  Book's temperament and skittishness lead me to believe there was some cruelty in his life, for as much as he desires to be near us, he is weary of contact... unless he initiates it.  Lately he is far more social and permissive, but still on guard.  Over time I am certain he will come to trust us and forget his past and all that he knew. Until that time arrives we will follow his lead.

In the meanwhile, the approach of the New Year has some of the people in the neighborhood shooting off fireworks simply for the hell of it.  Idiots.

Booker is more than worried over those sounds, and has begun pacing and cautiously peering down halls and around corners.  Each time we move locations, we've found poor Booker trying to follow; skulking in terror around furniture and into rooms between the bangs and booms.  I hope the nearby moron currently lighting the noisy rockets will stop soon. However, I do realize there will most likely be more as midnight approaches.  Until then, Karl and I will turn up the televisions to mask the sudden bangs and hisses, and will talk to him and sit with him - if he will allow it - until the arsenals are spent.

Poor lad.  Sadder still, I know that there are also vets and dogs who are rattled by the same sorts of noises, but inconsiderate assholes are everywhere.  Does no one ever give thought to how the things they do may ill-advisedly affect others?  Even more remarkable to wonder is if they even care?

Farewell, Jake. Grieving is a long process.

Yes, it's still December, and no, things haven't changed all that dramatically, so no need to fret over what you may have missed.  That is, things pertaining to the ol' everyday happenings are fairly status quo, but the projects of a sewing nature have taken shape and advanced.  There are photos and words to look at if you're even the teensiest bit interested in the quilts and other handwork.  You know where to look for that eyecandy.

More about Jake -
He had FiV (in human terms: kitty aides), and was given a year or so to live - depending upon how he lived and how the disease progressed over the course of time.  It was truly all dependent upon the ravages and whim of the FiV.  He still had worms even after arriving at our home, so the vet who first saw him was a bit remiss in the examination and treatment of our gentle, sick lad.

The final nail in the coffin, though, was that the FiV had also left him with a lateral physical condition - renal failure.  The second vet (our family vet) diagnosed it, and told me that Jake had whatever time the RF would allow.  All the blood work showed him to be more in jeopardy from his kidney issue than the upper respiratory infections that clung to him like a vicious gypsy curse.  It would truly come to a bit of a toss-up for him in the end, though. 

FiV is a cascading illness.  A death sentence like no other for an animal, and a bitter pill to swallow for the humans who may love them.  Many countless infected FiV animals live and die in anonymity and solitude.  No... not "solitude."  Loneliness.  They die alone and unmourned - and that cuts like a knife to realize after knowing and loving Jake.

Jake was 'found' and rescued literally at death's door.  There was no more that we could do for him except make him comfortable and love him, and so that was what we did.

But Jake shone like a royal star.  Despite his many ailments he was a beautiful and loving cat; a companion and a giving soul.  He hissed once and only once, trying to stand his ground when our 17-year-old girl tried to run off the new 'intruder' in her kingdom.  He took the many vet visits like a champ, and was the most mild-mannered boy.  The techs and doc loved Jake's weigh-in visitations; even when necessary to draw blood, obtain urine, take a temp (or any other procedure), he kept his cool and allowed the many hands to poke and prod and pinch.

In spite of the antibiotics and plentiful food, the love and safety of a home, and the regular medical care, he finally came to the end of his earthly days.  With tremendous sorrow, we drove to the vet last month and put him to rest.  It was as hard a task for Jake's sake as it had been for our girls.  I always feel as though I'm stealing something of their futures in making that decision, and I ask them for forgiveness as we approach the final moments together.

For now, this is farewell, Jake.  Run and find your sisters, Cleo and Flop, and know that someday, years from now, we will all be together.  Thank you for your love and trust and beauty.

25

Yesterday....my baby turned twenty-five.  25!   How does that happen?

Believe me when I say that I have been watching this one every step - every eyelash flutter - of the way, and I still have a hard time believing it.

When Brian turned twenty-five I felt it.  For some reason it seemed 'right', and it was believable - and perhaps I was more in tune and accepting of the march of time.  But Karl hitting this milestone seems incorrect somehow.  Maybe it's the Asperger's that has me incredulous.  It's deceiving.

At any rate, it has happened - happy 25th birthday my little bug!  I have loved every minute of it.

Wazzup?

Since the last post, a lot has happened/ended/improved/come-and-gone.  Here is just a sampling.

Been living from Tuesdays to Thursdays to get K-dub through his compressed college course, and he ended with a solid A!  Yea, Karl!  He even used the opportunity to get up IN FRONT OF THE CLASS AND SPEAK for an additional (but totally unnecessary) fifteen extra credit points, using as a topic one of his written assignments throughout the course.  I am so very proud of him for following through and taking the class when he really wanted to drop out of it all those weeks ago.

Brian went to a tournament in Chicago over the weekend, and had his own brand of epiphanies.  We'll see where it takes him over the coming weeks/months.

Must head to the library to take an online aptitude test (job-related), as our internet connection is so slow, and more than occasionally takes a diaper break in the middle of every operation.  Would hate for that to happen during the typing test portion.

Have gotten halfway through RowD, and can now begin to look ahead to RowE.  One-quarter of the quilt is nearly OFFICIALLY complete, and I am excited to say the least.  A far cry from being in the first row with so much to look forward to.  I confess, I believed wholeheartedly that the process would go faster - especially after the first few squares, but adding material (colors) to the palette seems to have made it more difficult and time consuming.

Dropped online a couple of days ago to log the computer off for the evening, and saw that my lovely friend Maria was online, and in her google account.  By the time my home internet connection allowed the correspondence box to open up....she had signed out.  I was disappointed to have missed the chance to face-to-face with her. [sigh]  I hope she is doing well, and that her summer classes have brought her closer to reaching her immediate goals.  Miss you, Maria!

OK, time to stop burning daylight.  Enjoy your days and be well, everyone.

Dropping like flies

The headcount of those ill continues to grow around the ol' casa, now numbering three-of-six. That's two humans and one feline to be specific.

Hobbes seems to have been the first one of us to fall, followed closely by Brian. 'Beana' (Hobbes to you uninitiated blog readers) is the eldest of our furry family members, and had a high metabolism which keeps her constantly hungry. Although, for all of the eating she does, she never tops anything more than five or six pounds on the scales - if THAT. Her cold keeps her sniffing throughout the day and night, snorking and wheezing; blowing little kitty snot-bubbles in an attempt to clear her nose. Usually, the snot-bubble events happen in the still of the night, as she lies next to me on our queen-sized bed - she, slumbering (or preening) at her pillow and me snoozing blissfully on mine. I am awakened at intervals of what seem to be half-hour to forty-five minutes apart, and then never fully allowed to fall back into anything remotely close to a deep sleep. She doesn't hate me, she just thinks it's amusing to play the part of the mist off Niagara Falls in my face.

A stuffy nose is no different for a cat in its discomfort or inconvenience level than it is for a human, but humans can adjust easily to mouth-breathing if we have to - cats don't like that practice at all. And Hobbes...well, Hobbes likes to share.

And her stuffiness makes eating a bit of a chore, too, so I am met with a lot of uneaten food in her bowl. Good thing her fluffy sister has no issue with poaching leftovers.

At any rate, Bud's illness began in the form of the annoying throat-clearing which only seems to raise my hackles - and my mommy alarms. By the time he was really "a-hem, uagh, a-hem, mgg-uaghing" enough to make me want to smack him with a two-by-four, it was too late to pre-emptively strike with Airborn or some other nip-it-in-the-bud OTC remedy. Nope, he was in for a bit of a sick spell; but it went from a headcold to his chest. Then that mucus-to-throat issue created vomit a-n-d now an ear infection to boot! Along the way, he also seemed to be bothered by chills and muscle aches just as the headcold appeared to abate, so I am flumuxed by this round of sick.

However, Karl began throat-clearing, drippy nose, and sore throat complaints two or three days ago, then developed the dreaded "D" yesterday, just to make it interesting. Last night he then began to complain of aches in his joints, a headache and chills...so off to bed he went!

The remaining two cats and I are keeping some distance where we can, and are avoiding touching tissues irresponsibly left around the domicile. Other than that, everyone is well.

Oh, except I seem to have a repeat of a nasty eye infection of my left eyelid - again! Second time inside of a month, and it seems to happen after teaching at the JAF. Gotta be kid cooties, eh? Hoping the swelling is gone by tomorrow, since it looks as though I lost a round to a boxer, and you can't put make-up on that.

Hope everyone is fairing better wherever you are.

Oh. My. Word.

Karl has finished his first full essay assignment AND turned it in electronically - on schedule!

Ahead of time, even!!

And we still have hair on our heads and teeth in our mouths! ! !

Hello, again

Not going to wait until the end of the week to post an update. Nope, instead I am going to 'steal' a moment here and fill in a blank or two, then get back to my regular programming.

Heh heh...television humor.

The big news of the week is of course - Brian's 27th birthday! 27! :vO His birthday gift to me was a haircut (his, not mine), and my gift to him was a beautiful pair of woolen socks to wear with his kilt. Hey, those bad boys are hard to come by, and are expensive. Karl bought him a large bottle of clove-infused mead after having tried it at the Renfest. Happy birthday, Brian!

School is progressing about as you'd expect. Comp I for me is going well; for Karl, it's a bit more challenging - but he seems to have a good instructor. Mr. Quincy is (so far) diligent in responding to email, and genuinely seems to care that I want Karl to succeed, and is willing to help through open communication and getting copies of notes from class to K. [insert excited, happy face here]

On the other hand, Web Design is really kicking my keester. It doesn't help that my retrograde PC (and it's outdated IE program - which I can't upgrade past IE9 in order to do the work at home) is conspiring against me. Today I will head into the lab for a couple of hours to avail myself of the tutor and the working program there. [this calls for a cheer and an "oh, crap"]

Maria is enrolled in four classes this semester - GOOD ON YA, M! I would be too, but I waited too late. Although, it's probably a good thing I get my feet wet and ease back into this sort of school work. It's not like Specs was....not by a long shot. This is REAL work, eh? I am proud of you, Maria, keep up the good work!!

Jean is now in her second year of that radiology program (YEA!), and seems to be taking more of it in stride - I think. She is a wonder, because it's a lot of work and practicum on top of it! Plus, she's working one to two days (l o n g days) per week in a radiology facility on top of it! I know it's stretching you thin, lady, but you are a champ!

Mom is mending well, the issues with swelling and pain are subsiding. It's a good thing! Thank you, Lord. And, she still has PBS on her rabbit-eared TV, so is happier than not. It's not the same as seeing some regular network programming and her favorite "Wheel" and "Jeopardy" shows, but PBS is great when that's all there is. And that's WAY better than the alternative "reality TV" BS now offered 70% of the time on the other four channels (which she can't see).

As for me, well...I am the slacker in the group, I suppose. I am teaching somewhere in the neighborhood of two classes a week (the ones that don't cancel due to low enrollment), and taking my own piddily two classes. Pfft. Yes, still sewing when I get a moment here and there, just not enough of those moments any more.

OK, so enough of this for a bit. I need to get cleaned up and ready to meet with the tutor. I'm gonna learn me some web designin'. Hooo-doggies!

Mom, call me if you need me -

Well...hello!

Attempted to post yesterday, to update you all as to what's been transpiring in my life over the last week (or more), but blogger is again on the fritz. [primal growl] I am going to try and make this brief to avoid any further blogger BS for the day, so I hope you can read between the lines in this abbreviated report.

Arrived home from the U.P. two days ago in time to pick up Karl from his last day of summer semester. He had just taken his final and was ready to leave the building. He was expecting to see Jean there, as she had offered to drive the distance from Clio to Aub Hills to gather him if I couldn't make there myself. THANK YOU, JEAN!

Mom is mending after her [deleted for privacy's sake], that's where I was for the week. Besides that, the timing was right to be there for her birthday, too. Happy birthday, one more time, mom!

The week was a rainy one so I wasn't able to get out and weed whack her driveway (or around her flowerbeds), but it was neat to watch the clouds billowing over Lake Superior.

Brian is looking forward to the start of the Renaissance festival this month, and will be dividing his time between Lowe's during the week, the comic book shop in Fenton, and the festival on the weekends through September.

Thirteen days to go before the start of the quilt show/competition, and sixteen for me before I can attend it and then take my quilt entry home! Can't wait to see it hanging with other entries from around the world and from across the United States!

OK, so let's see if blogger will allow me to post this today, without issue.

Have a good day!

Yes, "again"

A little bit, that is.  A little bit about the weather and then [drum roll] - on to other things! [cymbal crash]

The weather only factors in because there has been a change.  [grinning madly]  It's still humid as all get-out, but it is cooler this morning.  With the help of the attic fan thrumming all night long, the inside temp is a manageable 74*F!

Tah-daaaahhhhhhh!  And I do mean the "aahhhh" thing.  S'wonderful!

We were on the road yesterday afternoon, skirting the rolling storm front (which was over our left shoulders and closing in quickly), until just shy of returning to my little 'burb.  Boom! 

The lightening, heavy whipping winds, and torrential rains made a violent statement as we cruised to within four miles of the house.  Floodgates opened and branches fell left and right, but through all of that, the temps fell, too!  Everything still feels wet.  Damp and icky, but over the course of the next few days it will dry out some.

The reason we were on the road?  Well, to deliver my little quilted beauty into the hands of strangers.  Many, MANY strangers!  It started off at a UPS storefront in Clarkston, and by later in the evening had only managed to crawl as far as Pontiac.   This morning finds it on a truck and actually moving out of the state!  No turning back now.

More updates can be followed on the quilting blog.  But for now I have some cooler temps to take advantage of, so I am going to get away from the keyboard.  How are you going to celebrate the break in the heatwave?

One more step

And yet, one more step taken. 
One hurdle achieved. 
Another tick on the list attained.

About two weeks ago (yikes!) I received a lovely packet in the mail telling me that PQ1 had been juried into the GR AQS competition, and that I needed to complete the forms contained within and mail it back to them haste.  Actually, what the cover letter read was, "...fill these out and send them back NOW."

One of the forms regarded insurance for the quilt - both for shipping and loss replacement should something happen at the show (or during shipping).  Lots of cost involved here.  Without a proper, legal, binding appraisal, whatever loss might happen would all be on me.

So, without too much delay, I attempted to find a qualified appraiser and gain an appointment in short order.  No easy feat here in the mitten state.  The quickest thing available found me in Bay City yesterday, and the appraisal was done in about an hour.  With all of two weeks now having slipped between my fingers, I must get this bunch of papers back to the AQS gang soon.

The next step is to ship PQ1 to Kentucky, then cross my fingers and say my prayers.  August 14th can't get here soon enough!  More later, peeps - have a quilty day. :)

P.S. Thanks, Jean, for driving the final leg!  I had a fun time meeting your cousin and her son, Doris and Nick, too.

And the winner is.....

..."Polished Leather."

Yup.  The paint color preferred this time for the long south wall is a very dark (but not black), deep purple-to-brown.  The difference being: THIS time, the entire length of the wall will be all one dark, rich, gorgeous color, and will be completed all at the same time.

*Crap*

I just managed to burst my own happiness bubble by remembering I also have to paint the ceiling in the dining area - as well as the living room - before I can call it 'done.'

Ah, well.  One step at a time, I guess.  One step at a time.

Polished Leather is going to look snappy with a quilt and several wonderful enlarged photographs, by yours truly, hanging all over it.  But I have to hurry along, now.  If I'm not quick about it, the coming heatwave is going to zap my momentum, I just know it, and this little project could sit undone for another [name the time frame].

Finger's crossed, photos later.

My bad

It dawned on me last night that I had forgotten to report Karl's progress in his advanced math class.

Yes - he passed his first test!  Initially, he had a C+ grade, but seemed dissatisfied with that grade.  He was looking forward to averaging the same sort of grades as he had in the first math class, but since this is advanced (and therefore more complicated) algebra, it makes sense that it might not come as easily, or with the same results for the lad.

At any rate, I suggested he take his test and the math notes - and work leading up to it - in to his next tutoring session to see where his issue may lie, to see if Justin (his tutor) can help Karl over his hurdles, thereby making it easier to pass the next test.  You know, get Karl (and keep him) par with what was coming at him in class. 

My thought is if you have working knowledge of the sequence of formulation, factoring and figuring for algebra, then you should be able to move through the more complicated problems.  But, if you have a hiccup early on, then getting the more complicated stuff will be, well....more complicated.

So, Karl went in to tutoring armed to the teeth to review his test and see where he needed a little help grasping whatever it was that had eluded him.

The two boys found two problems which had been answered correctly, but which the instructor had incorrectly marked wrong!  Karl finished his tutoring session having mastered a concept (with Justin's help) that stumped him, AND with the knowledge that he could perhaps raise his grade for the test a little by asking the instructor to review those two problems the boys found to be graded wrong.

Guess what?!  She did see the issues with the two problems in question, and re-graded Karl's test accordingly, which bumped his grade from that C+ to a B- !!!  This made Karl very proud - and rightly so!

Need I say I am proud, too?  Well, I am!
- - - - - - - - - - - -
On to Brian news.  Arrived home the other day to find Bud with an impressive bandage on his left forearm.

"A bandage!", you gasp.

Yes, and here's the story.  He cut his forearm on a poorly stored blade he found "the hard way," while searching for something he had dropped on the floor under his desk.  Yes, he placed the blade (some time ago) into the flap of a cardboard box, then stacked the box with something else, then, well.....you get the picture, right?  He forgot completely about the blade, then made contact with it while prowling around under his desk.

The "contact" made was with his forearm, and the results were a fairly deep sub-q cut (but not to the muscle) which required something in the order of 10 stitches to close.

Wheeee!!  Oh, and yes, I did do the mommy-thing and suggest (strongly) to Brian I thought this might be a good time to clean his room.

So, it's been slightly eventful here.  How's things at your end of the swamp?

For those of you "in the know"

And there aren't many of you regarding this topic, but -

Bud was having an issue getting from his home improvement employer his first full paycheck.  I know!!

The run-around he received from the HR/Payroll person on site was ridiculous, to say the least.  The crux of the matter left him with this decision (per that Payroll/HR bimbo): Brian could pay a $25 stop pay fee to have them re-issue his paycheck.

Yup, you read that right.  HE would have to pick up the tab for their stupidity and carelessness.  So, after two days of sporadic discussion here and there, he went in this morning to speak with the store manager before his shift began, and to question this awfully strange pay protocol for employees.

Why would the employee have to pay for a check they never touched, never saw, never had a chance to misplace? 

I know, I hear you - "What!??  What's the other option?  Where's the decision making?" 

The "or" in all of this was to wait and see if and when the check ever materialized at some time in the future.

Well, the long and the short of it is that Lowe's will eat the fee to stop pay, and will immediately issue a paycheck, which I trust will now be direct deposit instead.  My only concern is that Bud check the online system available to see his hours and to be certain the payroll amount shows up with the correct tax amounts withheld and no other surprise gaps equalling $25. 

This mistrust has a firm foundation.

Anyhow, yea, Brian!  Way to confront the BS!