Lake pictures

My last day at the lake consisted of about two hours, from when I woke up at 6:20 until I left for the second time at 8:20 (I forgot my cell the first time I left), so since there isn't much to write about, here are some pics:

Lakeside Day 3, Friday, August 6th

As usual, I woke up early. This time, I managed not to wake up Mom, but instead got my coffee vewy, vewy quietly. I'd been up for about 20 minutes when SuperDoughnut came downstairs. He was very disgruntled to see me awake, and I'm not sure what the big deal is about being the first one up, but he was Not Happy with me.

The morning followed the usual Lakeside routine--doughnut run, breakfast, newspaper run, swimming. I skipped the swimming because my knee still hurt from Thursday's fall and read instead. After lunch, I took another nap, and this time my father woke me up because "You slept a very long time and I was worried about you."

Again, pot, kettle, blahblah.

Mom gave me a lecture on being more careful about where I stepped, what with the MS balance issues and NO sympathy about my poor knee, but Annabel and I bonded over falling in public, so it was a net gain for family relationships. Either Wednesday or Thursday night Bookworm and I had bonded over Mad Men, which I just barely managed not to spoil for her. Great show, btw, and you should watch it.

Dinner Friday night was a very American vacation meal--corn on the cob, hamburgers, beer, and Great-Gramma Jammies' summer blockbuster consisting of sliced peaches mixed with blueberries and brown sugar. There were also lovely tomatoes and fresh sliced cucumber, which I was pleased to find out SuperDoughnut shares my love for.

After dinner, there were several golf cart rides. Captain Crossword took the kids down to the pier so that The Awesome Nacho could do a photo shoot with his new Domo plushie, and later there was a group golf cart/bicycle ride down to Whistle Stop for ice cream. As I've mentioned, I'm more of a salty snack person, and when I saw that they had freshly popped cheese popcorn, I got that and a soda.

Oh, my. Why did I not know about this on Wednesday? Imagine freshly popped popcorn with movie theater butter and bright orange cheese flavoring. It was warm and messy and so very good. I shared with the nieces and nephews, because like movie theater popcorn, a "small" was pretty damn big, and while they all liked it, Tinkerbell enjoyed it the most.

When all of the ice cream and most of the popcorn had been consumed, we walked out on the pier. The waves were really high, and were splashing over the pier at various points. We watched the sun sink, and it took me a minute to realize that the sun set about forty seconds earlier for me than for my "little" brother because I'm about 8 inches shorter!

Dad and the kids and I took the golf cart back to the house. We took the long way, because this was the last golf cart ride before turning it in Saturday morning. Tinkerbell had fallen and scraped her ankle on the way to get in the cart, and she cuddled up to me for the whole ride. When we got back to the house, there was triage and a bandaid, and it was all good again.

Lakeside, Day 2, Thursday August 5th

Despite a late-ish night, I woke up at my usual time of 6:20. Despite trying to be quiet, I managed to wake Mom up when I nuked myself a cup of coffee. She got herself one, and we were sitting on the porch talking very quietly when SuperDoughnut came down. He looked a little grumpy, and said to me, "I'm usually the first one up." After about ten minutes, he pronounced himself bored, and when none of Mom's suggestions worked, I asked if he wanted to draw on the apron I'd gotten him. He initially said no, but then came back about five minutes later and had changed his mind.

Not too long after SD was ensconced at the porch table with his apron and two packets of permanent markers, The Awesome Nacho and Princess Mathgeek came downstairs (Tinkerbell likes to sleep in--she's a nine o'clock girl all the way). Mom had put out all the different cereals and bowls and spoons and then taken her bike ride, so after I got dressed, I fixed bowls of cereal for SD and PM, and went back to reading my book.

Captain Crossword and Tinkerbell came downstairs around nine, and I got her her first bowl of cereal while little brother got some coffee. Then, before he had even had his second cup, he took the kids on a golf cart ride to get doughnuts, which is a morning ritual at Lakeside.

I am not fond of doughnuts--my personal taste for junk food is salty rather than sweet. But a cake doughnut from The Patio, fresh out of the fryer and thickly crusted with cinnamon sugar, tempts even me.

After dropping off the kids and the pastries, little bro went back out on a quest for a newspaper box that actually had newspapers inside it. The kids each had a doughnut, Mom came back from her bike ride, everyone except for my father got up and dressed and moving. Shortly after CC returned with the newspaper, a general poll was taken on who wanted to go swimming at the indoor pool. It wound up being me, Captain Crossword, Jeeves, Mom and all the kids.

I'm not entirely convinced that someone didn't replace my nieces and nephews with fish during the ride over to the pool. Tinkerbell doesn't swim yet, but she's completely comfortable in the water, and the other three are both skilled and fearless. Between the cannonballs, swimming underwater, roughhousing and other silliness, two hours flew by.

After swimming, we had lunch. Mom always has a ton of good food, and this year was no exception. After lunch, when Mom and Captain Crossword and Annabel took the kids to East Harbor, and I took a nap. I'd told Mom that I would go with her and Dad to pick up Bookworm Mathgeek's birthday cake and ice cream. East Harbor in August, or really any outdoor venue in August is right out for me--I've never been particularly heat-tolerant anyway, but that's the one thing that has gotten noticeably worse thanks to the MS.

A word or six about my father: The man loves his sleep. He is the last one up in the morning, or sometimes the only one waking up in the early afternoon. He takes naps, and whether he's napping or sleeping, he will put his good ear in the pillow so his alarm clock can shrill for up to an hour without him noticing. Getting him up when he's not ready to wake up involves repeated trips to his bedside, with occasional shoulder-shaking and sometimes some yelling.

So that Thursday, I'd laid down between one-thirty and two. At three-thirty, Dad opened the door to my room, stuck his head in and stated that Mom wanted him to call me. At three-forty-five, Dad stuck his head back in the door, and said in a tone just dripping with disgust, "This is the second time I have had to call you. You had better get up!"

"Thanks, Mr. Pot."

I got out of bed and got dressed, laughing to myself at my father's inability to see that the things he dislikes in me are his own worst character traits, and the three of us headed out on an ice cream hunt. The object of our search was Bookworm Mathgeek's favorite ice cream, Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby. Alas, it was nowhere to be found in Marblehead and Port Clinton, and believe me, we looked everywhere. Fortunately, the store where Mom had ordered the cake had her second choice, Toft's Peppermint Party Mint. Mom also got noisemakers, matching crepe and tissue paper, and silly gifts from the kids.

We got back to the house, and my poor, unsuspecting sister-in-law was reading in the hammock. We put out the cake, decorated the eating area, wrapped the presents and put them out.

Sneaking this in here, so it's not quite so obvious--Thursday afternoon I had my annual Fall Over My Own Feet At Lakeside. I careened down the concrete garage stairs, grabbed the card table to steady myself, and instead managed to take a glass ashtray with me, shattering it on the floor.

The girls were so excited that they rousted Bookworm out of the hammock and brought her inside, where we sang to her. She opened the presents and the cards, and then we went out to dinner.

A note about my card: Given that Bookworm and I are both readers, and we both tend to be alternately amused and appalled by typos and grammatical errors, I got her a card which mentioned casinos and bars as "disrespectful places." I'm pretty sure it should have been "disreputable places," and was planning on giggling with her over the error. What I hadn't planned on was the card-opening taking place in the middle of a storm of family. So it just looked like I got her a card with a mistake on it. :p

Instead of the winery restaurant where we used to go for the big fancy family dinner, which has gone down in quality and up in price, we went to an upscale sports bar for dinner. Crosswinds was a big success--everyone's food was great, the service was both cheerful and competent, and I had my very first (and my second) Lemon Drop martini. I was smart enough to decline cake when we got home, although Tinkerbell confided to her Daddy that she was full but had just enough room in her tummy for cake. ;)

Between the food and the alcohol, none of the grownups were up for long after the kids went to bed that night!

Lakeside, Day 1, Wednesday August 4th

Wednesday morning started with a beep and a whimper. The beep was my alarm clock, and the whimper was from me on account of said alarm clock going off at 5:20. I got up, got caffeinated, showered, packed the car with my suitcase and the dogs' tote bag, and headed off to the vet hospital.

After leaving the dogs at boarding, I went out to Mom and Dad's house, to see if I could find Tinkerbell's two kangaroo plushies and the folder with all of her medical info (and an active prescription). It wasn't looking too good at first, because my ADDDad had started changing the locks, never finished, and had taken my old key and given me a new one before he finished the lock-changing. Fortunately, I remembered where he hides the spare key, and was able to retrieve the 'roos from under the guest room bed and the medical folder from Grandpa Arnold's desk.

Off I went to work, for a frantic three hours of trying to get everything caught up before the office was without both Mom and myself, then I headed out to my car and up to the lake. I made the drive in a bit less than two hours, and was surprised to find that everyone was home when I got there. The Awesome Nacho and Princess Mathgeek helped me get my stuff inside the house, and then I got hugs from everyone.

As always, my brothers had visited The Cheese Haven on their first full day at the lake, so there was a large selection of wonderful cheeses in the fridge and assorted candy in the pantry. After a bit of grazing, I unpacked, changed clothes and then napped until dinnertime.

After dinner, the whole famndamily sat around and read and talked. Tinkerbell asked me to read to her, and I was thrilled when she picked one of the two new books I'd brought up to the lake, Once Upon a Cool Motorcycle Dude.

When the kids had all gone to bed, Jeeves had drunk enough beer to get juvenile about the author of the book I was reading. If you can't figure out what's humourous about an author whose initials are P.N., bless you, and if you have figured it out, trust me, it's not funny the first time, let alone the twenty-first.

I swear I went to sleep just to get away from the brat.

KJAM on radio silence

Headed up to the lake house for four days with the whole famdamily. Wish me luck!

Dear White Trash Neighbor,

My condolences for your impotence and the fact that your insurance won't cover Viagra. However, when you choose to buy fireworks to compensate, I would appreciate your keeping in mind that the Fourth of July was a freaking month ago, and I do not appreciate feeling as if I were living in downtown Beirut.

Sincerely,

Jammies and the dogs on the verge of a nervous breakdown

Back to the dentist

If you're squeamish, stop reading now.

Yesterday, I went out to Mom & Dad's to babysit while Mom went and put in five hours at the office. Dad has a cold, so he's being a complete baby and he slept all day (except for the forty-five minutes where he pushed the girls' craft projects out of the way and ate and read at the kitchen table). *eyeroll*

The girls were overall well-behaved, and we had fun, but my mouth was really sore. It felt as if the swelling had gotten much worse and my gum above the missing tooth was hot. Despite regular doses of ibuprofen, it wasn't any better this morning, and then when I was brushing my teeth, something snagged on the brush, which was how I discovered a bone sliver was working its way out.

Although the oral surgeon had done the extraction, my regular dentist squished me into her schedule. After a quick x-ray and exam, she came back with the Novocaine and told me the sliver was too big to allow it to work its own way out. As soon as I was numb, she enlarged the hole, pulled out the piece of bone, and showed it too me.

I am not exaggerating when I say that this sharp-edged, pointy piece of me that had decided to break loose was the size of my pinkie fingernail. Eeep! I wound up with three stitches in my mouth and an appointment on Tuesday to see the oral surgeon again for follow-up. I also feel as if someone has been beating on my gums with a mallet.

Ow.

Girly day

Today was a complete immersion in girly stuff. Mom, Princess Mathgeek, Tinkerbell and I went out to lunch with Vegan Lawyer and her granddaughter and stepgranddaughter. We had lunch at Southern Gardens Tea Room, where the girls' soda, pink lemonade and milk were served in teapots and their lunches arrived on two-tiered stands. After lunch, we went to a kids' salon, where all four girls got their hair styled, their fingernails painted, their makeup done and then an all-over dusting of glitter. Michelle from All Lacquered Up would be pleased that both of my nieces selected Dorothy Who? for their manicures. Cupcakes were consumed, pictures were taken, and we had a lovely pink day.

Toothless

It's done. It was fast and brutal. There were two points at which I came up out of my chair, but the whole thing took only 25 minutes. Of course, after reading the "post-surgical" instructions, the potential side effects sound worse than a bad tooth!

Can someone give me a ride?

The good news is that I don't have to wait three weeks and two days for my extraction, the dentist had an appointment available tomorrow evening.

The bad news is that it's at 5:15, which makes it impossible for Mom or Dad to take me, since they have the girls. It's not a long distance or anything, but driving myself means no sleepytime meds to make things easier.

So if anyone wants to give me a lift tomorrow evening, I can pay you in perfume, bath stuff or cinnamon ice cream. ;)

Edited: Dad's going to take me when he's done with work. He said yes and then hung up on me. Ahhh, paternal love. *grin*

"But I didn't want a birthday party!"

So said Plaid Jammies when informed that events had conspired against him. Flannel Jammies said with utmost reasonableness that it hadn't started out as a birthday party, it just sort of evolved from the following chain of events:

Plaid Jammies turns 70 today.

Captain Crossword, Princess Mathgeek and Tinkerbell flew in to Ohio from Texas last night.

Flannel Jammies' big brother Robert* and his wife were headed back to Florida from Lakeside, and would be stopping overnight last night.

T and C, a couple that the Jammieses knew from grade school on, were babysitting their two granddaughters about three minutes away from the Jammies homestead.

Therefore, Flannel Jammies elected to feed everyone she could get her hands on, from dinner to dessert, and we also had presents.

I got there early, both to help Mom get ready and because she had asked me to stop for some sweet corn. That is one of Captain Crossword's all-time favorite foods, and while it's available other places, it's best in Ohio in July and August. He'll get more up at the lake, too.

When I got there, Mom was out getting ice cream, because heaven forbid she only have Dad's favorite dessert, three kinds of Ben & Jerry's, diet soda cake and fresh berries, someone might want vanilla ice cream! So I talked Dad into opening his present early, and he was very pleased with the book and the Borders gift card. Then I sat on the front porch and shucked the corn, finishing up just as Mom came home.

For some reason, before he left for the airport, Dad decided he had to show me how to refresh the page the flight info was on. Thanks, Dad. :p

Mom and I had just gotten everything to a point where we could sit down and talk when her brother and sil arrived, so they joined us on the deck. After we'd caught up for a bit (I can't believe my cousin's daughter just finished her first year of college), we resumed dinner preparation.

At that point, a pretty impressive storm was blowing up, but fortunately, it didn't hit until just after Dad came home with my brother and nieces. Princess Mathgeek, who has stayed at Gramma's house before, showed her sister everything she remembered, from the guest room to the toys in the basement, and then we sat down to eat.

T and C and their granddaughters joined us later, for dessert, and the four little girls had a great time making sundaes and playing while the adults chatted. Unfortunately, I was the one to break up the party, since I had the longest drive home.

All in all, a great night, even if Dad didn't want a birthday party.


*Yes, Bob's my uncle. :)

The warranty on this body has run out...

can I trade it in? :(

The latest bad news came after a morning of fruitless phone tag at work, when I went to the dentist and discovered I need an extraction. Because it's the very last tooth in the back, my dentist feels that a root canal would be extremely difficult, expensive, and buy me at best three years before the tooth had to come out anyway. Oh, and it's also infected.

What on earth did her Majesty do?

Mike Campbell, guitarist of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, collapsed on stage in St. Louis this past weekend. Today, the group announced that their show here was postponed because doctors had told Mr. Campbell to take it easy.

So I want to know if it was Queen Mediocretia's overwhelming sex appeal, or if she just cursed him.

Hmmmm.

George and Alabaster go to a game

Friday night, Mom and I took my nephews to an Akron Aeros game. While the younger was more interested in the junk food, the elder has played baseball and explained quite a bit of the game to his little brother.

The Aeros played well, they trounced the Erie Seawolves 8-1, the weather was great for anyone who doesn't have MS-induced heat intolerance, Canal Park is a small jewel, we had seats just to the left of home plate and the fireworks were spectacular. Gramma bought nachos, popcorn, slushies, cotton candy and ice cream, while Auntie Pam bought giant foam claws. I'd say the boys had a pretty good time, and I know I did.

Whew, she's not stupid!

Allie of Hyperbole and a Half did an experiment with her dog, and her drawings of her dog bear a striking resemblance to Little Miss. Having seen that, I had to try the treat-under-a-cup test on Little Miss (I already know how she does on the blanket and name recognition tests). It took her about twenty minutes, but she did eventually figure out how to knock over the cup and snag the treat.

So she's not dumb, she's just ADHD.

Could I just burst into flame?

Northeast Ohio is in the middle of a spate of gross summer heat (high today was 91), and given what happens to me when I'm out in it, I think I'd prefer to actually be a vampire.

Little Miss got herself stuck outside today, and in the time it took me to walk outside, unloop the chain and walk back in (less than a minute), both forearms and my chest blazed up with itchy redness. I didn't go near any plant material, I just got touched by sunlight.

I've never wanted to be a vampire, because the thought of drinking blood is disgusting. However, I've changed my mind. If I were a vampire, I wouldn't be one long enough to drink blood, I'd just go out in the sunlight and burst into flame.

Then I wouldn't be sitting here itching.

Uncool at the pool

Because I feel as if I've maxed out on the water-walking, Mom suggested I start water aerobics with her. However, the times I have tried it, the class is too fast-paced and complicated for me to keep up. After a bit of thinking, I decided I needed to add wrist and ankle weights. I ordered them from Swim Outlet, and they arrived on Thursday.

Saturday morning, I decided to skip the class and instead do a 40 minute workout on my own when there was less of an audience* in case I made a fool of myself. I only used the ankle weights, figuring that when I get used to those, I will add the wrist weights. They were certainly effective--my speed slowed down to where it was when I started taking the class fifteen months ago, and I could still feel the strain in my leg muscles when I went to bed last night.

While I was at the pool, a woman came in wearing a shower cap rather than a swimming cap, and then proceeded to wave her arms about in very weird gestures the whole time she was walking. Uncool, but very amusing.

As I was leaving, a man on a motorcycle, with a boy behind him pulled up to the curb. The boy got off, the man watched him walk in the door and then left. I'd have given the guy lots of points for being a cool dad, except neither of them was wearing a helmet. Risking your own life is one thing, risking your kid's life is unconscionable. Uncool dad!

Dear Princess Mathgeek and Tinkerbell,

Thank you for the beautiful cards and my wonderful birthday present. Two weeks ago, when my company was here, we went to Beachwood mall, and saw exactly those duckies in the Swarovski store. I thought how adorable and sparkly they were, but didn't get one for myself. This was a perfect present.

Thank you again,

Aunt Jammies

Gaaaaaaaaaaah

I hate summer. I hate sweating, I hate being heatsick, I hate being confined to air-conditioned offices and houses, and I hate the fact that my car AC doesn't work the way it should and I. HATE. SUMMER!

The joys of home ownership

As I mentioned, Sherri and Jay made a spontaneous trip to Ohio on Thursday. We had a lovely, quiet Friday and Saturday, full of shopping, baking, eating, movie-watching, perfume-testing, laughing, exercising, lunching with relatives, etc.

On Sunday, I got up at my usual 6:20, and the water was out. I tried flipping the breaker, to no avail. When Sherri woke up, I sent her down to the basement, and explained what had happened, then put some empty bottles in my car and headed out to the folks' house.

Mom was out riding her bike, but I got in the back door to the garage, and started filling water bottles at the utility sink. I was almost done when Mom got home, and she invited the three of us to spend the day at her house. I wound up not going anywhere, although Jay and Sherri went to Barnes and Noble and picked up dinner at the Olive Garden. Somehow, throughout the day, the pump came back to life enough for us to be able to flush toilets, although not shower or wash dishes.

Monday morning, I took a shower at the Natatorium, then went on to work. While I was there, I talked to Dave, the well pump guy, and he said he'd meet me at the house at 12:30. It wound up being closer to 2:00, but he replaced the switch, and didn't have to dig anything up, yay! As soon as he was gone, I told Jay and Sherri to have the long showers they both wanted, and then it was time for a nap, then dinner, then a quick trip to World Market.

Tuesday morning I dropped Jay off at the Nat and went on to work, then headed for a local nursery, where I picked up six pink-flowered lavender plants. When I came home, Jay walked Little Miss and Sherri and I made pesto. We also discussed books and knitting and gardening. She's taken up knitting again, so I can count that and BPAL as my enabling successes for the visit.

While I did very much miss Imp and Rob and Dampy, it was nice to have Sherri and Jay all to myself. I wished they lived closer.

The calendar lies...

it says my birthday is in eleven days, but it's already over!

Sherri and Jay surprised me with a weekend visit and birthday presents last weekend.

Mom took Sherri, Jay and me out to lunch for my birthday.

My parents got me a new bathroom floor last month.

My dear friend Mickey Mouse sent me a lovely card, British potato crisps and handcrafted artwork.

My dogs sent me a card from New Jersey.

Several of my Lush friends sent cards.

Clearly, it's all over except for the driver's license renewal!

Thanks to everyone for making my birthday wonderful.

The Great Duck Hunt of 2010

On Sunday, I hit a local craft store to return some beads I hadn't used for my ninja swappee's present, and of course I had to look at everything because I had a store credit for $3.58, plus Mom wanted some stickers to send my nieces.

In the very back of the store, there was a bin with some wild rubber duckies--they had spiky hair and were squishable like little duck stress balls. I bought one, and put it in my bag to show Mom on Monday. I also got her stickers and some yarn (yes, yet another addiction).

When I went to show Mom my Mohawksquashyduck, we discovered that if you set it down just right, it lights up! So Mom was instantly enamored of the idea of getting a pair of them for my nieces when they visit in July. Neither of us had time to go to the craft store on Monday, but I promised to go Tuesday evening after work.

Tuesday morning started with a literal bang--at 5:59, there was a huge CRACK of thunder right over the house. Almost immediately, my alarm clock added its two cents worth. Littlefoot did not want to go outside and pee in the rain, so while I was picking him up and putting him outside, Little Miss decided she needed to piddle inside. After I'd cleaned that up and fed her, then put her outside and fed Littlefoot, I was ready to go back to bed.

Alas, I had to call the vet for an appointment, because the only other time Little Miss has broken her housetraining was back when she had that UTI, and then I had to go to work. Because of the timing of the vet appointment, I couldn't go to the craft store, so Mom said she would go on her way to water aerobics.

Having braved the 5 p.m. traffic to the vet's office, where Little Miss refused to give a sample, I found that my old boss took my word, Little Miss's current behavior and some evidence of irritated skin as evidence enough of a UTI and he gave me antibiotics for her. On my way home, fighting the 5:15 traffic, Mom called in a panic from the craft store, where she couldn't find the Mohawksquashyducks! I did my best to direct her, but to no avail. I told her I'd go after water-walking and see if I could find them.

When I got to the natatorium, Mom's water aerobics class was just finishing up, so I waded over to do the stretches along with her. She whispered that she'd found the ducks by asking a sales associate--apparently, there were so few left that they were dumped in a "$2.00" bin with a bunch of other odds and ends.

So The Great Duck Hunt of 2010 ended with victory for the huntress, and hopefully happy baths for my nieces.

One little project completed

A soap sack for my secret swappee, Kate, made of 100% cotton Sugar and Cream yarn:

Ded Skwerl, a Photo Essay

For Tramp, with much love:

It started with a toy I got at Ross, a plushy dog toy with no stuffing:



I broke the "No toys with faces" rule because it was an evil squirrel, and handed it over as soon as I got unpacked:



It was received with much interest:



Followed by immediate denning under the kitchen table:



Enthusiastic chewing:







My hard heart was immune to pity:



But not to pride in my girl:



Who now wants to know what the next toy will be:

Doppleganger

So far, I've welcomed three new people to the water-walking class the last two times I've gone. The interesting one last night was a fat chick with glasses and dark curly hair who has the same first name as me. It's pretty cool to think that I've been doing this for over a year now, and even if I haven't lost weight, my clothes fit better and I haven't gained any weight!

Of course, sometimes I don't manage to make myself go, like tonight. I suspect there may be a bit of situational depression attacking me, what with the layoff and the lack of success in job-hunting, and while I am very happy for The Mad Tatter, I'm also a little bummed that she has a job and I don't. I'm having a hard time getting through my days at work, to say nothing of cleaning or gardening or water-walking after work. This is the kind of thing where I wish I could just slap myself out of it, because there are a lot of people a lot worse off than I am.

Oh. My. Dog.

I got a phone call today to set up a meeting with the Summit County Executive about my letter and that horrible shelter! Now I have two weeks to get ready, worry about what I'm going to say and what I'm going to wear...

Take that, BUN!

Took Littlefoot to the vet hospital today for follow-up bloodwork. He was feisty enough that both techs had to help hold him down for the blood draw, which was definitely not the case two and a half weeks ago. His creatinine is still too high, but it's down closer to normal, and his BUN is normal.

Plus, he's gained over a pound! Gooooooooooooo Littlefoot!

Letter #2

(Letter #1, if you missed it)

June 7, 2010


Mr. Russell Pry
Summit County Executive
175 S. Main St.
Akron, OH 44308-1314

Dear Mr. Pry:

Enclosed is a copy of a letter I sent to the Summit County Animal Control facility director over six weeks ago. Even though the former Executive Director of Heaven Can Wait ‘shelter’ has been convicted of cruelty to animals and the current Executive Director was also charged, the Summit County Animal Control facility still allows this organization to ‘adopt’ animals from them. I have received no reply to my letter, and as this concerns potential animal neglect and abuse, I am now looking to you for answers.

Since the taxpayers of Summit County are supporting the Animal Control facility, I believe we have the right to ask for accountability on the part of its staff, especially where the welfare of individual animals is concerned.

Ideally, the County would stop allowing Heaven Can Wait to remove animals from its facility owing to the owner’s conviction and jail term for animal cruelty. A much less satisfactory alternative would be the monitoring of any animals so removed on a weekly basis until such time as they are adopted.

Thank you for your anticipated attention to this matter. I look forward to hearing from you soon.


Very truly yours,

Anyone who wants to copy and send this letter above his or her name and signature has my promise that I will reimburse you for the cost of postage. Please help.

Thanks,

Jammies

Gardening progress

I was outside from 7 to 10:30, when it got much too hot for me. I have a flaming sunburn on my face despite "sweat-proof" sunblock, I got two or three wheelbarrow loads of weeds to the compost heap and the round front bed is now ready for newsprint, topsoil, new plants and mulch, which I will do this evening. :)

Washington, D.C., Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

Sunday morning, Mom and I were both up early. We each had a cup of mediocre coffee and started packing, I took a shower, and then we checked out and left our bags at the front desk. We'd planned all along to have breakfast at a restaurant near the hotel which had a giant banner reading "Voted best breakfast in Alexandria."

When we got there, there was a line out the door, which seemed a good sign. When we were inside and seated, Mom told me to go ahead and she'd get our coffee while she decided if she wanted to brave the inside line for made-to-order omelets and waffles. I gulped when I saw the buffet--whoever voted this place best breakfast was clearly not vegetarian. There was a big bowl of watermelon chunks, baked apples, canned apples and cherries and nary a vegetable in sight. There were biscuits, grits, limp pancakes, limper French toast and home fries, but no pastries or bagels, and there was a huge choice of meat--link sausage, patty sausage, sausage gravy, ham, bacon, even creamed chipped beef. I had sausage gravy over home fries, and talked Mom into getting an omelet.

We had time to get our bags and stop in the restroom before catching the noon shuttle to the airport, where we sat directly in front of the door to our plane rather than just by the gate. I ran down to a newstand to grab a Diet Coke to wash some Benadrool down with, and got a peanut bar from the Williamsburg Nut Shop for Dad. The flight home was uneventful, and on the way we stopped at the grocery store for romaine and tomatoes.

Dinner was salad for Mom and I and leftover brisket for Dad and I, then Mom went outside to trim bushes and I did some laundry. I was in bed by eleven and up by six, and at seven-thirty went to get my dogs. Even Littlefoot was frisking around at the prospect of going home. I got them home and the car completely unloaded, took a shower, dressed and went in to work.

Mom and I are good travelling companions, and hopefully we won't wait five years before taking another trip together.

Washington D.C., Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

I woke up at 6 without an alarm, and threw on my robe and my wrap so I could head downstairs for a smoke before getting dressed and making coffee. My legs and butt were screaming at me from all the walking on Friday, but I didn't dare take any ibuprofen until after I'd had either food or at least my daily Prilosec. Still in my pre-coffee fog, I stood in front of the elevator and pushed the button three times before realizing it wasn't even lighting up. So I looked at the fire map and headed for the stairs. Seven flights is a long way, even down, especially when you've overtaxed yourself the day before and then slept seven hours without moving, but I kept at it. I wound up coming out of the stairwell in the employees-only area behind the front desk, and startled the only clerk working the early shift. He figured out what I was doing there, though, and promised me the elevator guy was almost done. Didn't matter to me, I wasn't walking up those seven flights!

I'd brought my book down with me, but I never got a chance to read it. There was a woman outside who was just dying for someone to talk to, and she gave me an earful of conspiracy theories about public officials, her view that businesses closing was the result of socialism (!) and how all of Washington seems like they're "ready to throw down" (spend a lot) on clothes. I escaped when I'd finished my cigarette, and thankfully, the elevator was working again. I zipped upstairs, started my coffee and took a shower, hoping said coffee would cool enough for me to drink it while I got clean. Or cleaner, since I'd had a shower the night before.

A word about coffee, my mom, and me: Mom's family nickname is "Asbestos Mouth" because she adores both spicy-hot and temperature-hot food and beverages. In the time it takes my coffee to cool enough for me to sip, Mom has finished hers and is making a face because it has gotten "too cool." When she got up, she made herself a cup of coffee and drank it all before getting dressed.

We headed out on foot, since we were only about eight blocks from the yarn shop where we were meeting four of my BPALz. We were meeting at eleven, and we left the hotel a little before nine so we would have time to stop at Starbuck's for a second cup of coffee and maybe do a little shopping in Old Town. We got a cinnamon scone to split with our coffee, and sat outside enjoying the morning. As mentioned, Mom vacuumed up her coffee before I had managed to do much more than blow on mine. All of the extra napkins I'd grabbed came in useful when a Starbuck's customer came out of the store and headed for his car with two very overfilled iced coffees. :)

Mom and I saw a house built on land owned by Light Horse Harry Lee, and she knew he was a Revolutionary War hero, and I knew he was Robert E. Lee's father. We saw a lot of beautiful houses and gorgeous gardens. We did get the giggles over one planter full of a plant that looked like chrysanthemums but had pansy-like flowers--when I looked closely, the flowers were wired on. The first store we saw on King Street was a big Ross store, which was open, so we went in.

I'd always wanted to see a Ross because Flinty over at Polish or Perish is always talking about her nail polish finds from there. They didn't have hardly anything in the way of polish, but I still managed to find a cute turquoise fake-straw hat, a dead squirrel dog toy and a seriously gorgeous white skirt and jacket/blouse (bloucket? jouse?). Unfortunately, I found myself somewhat caught short, and had to do an Ellen. I scooted into the restroom and was there for fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, the restroom was inside the fitting rooms, so when I found the white outfit, I had to go back. I did not make eye contact with the attendant.

We'd spent all of our pre-meeting time at Ross, so we walked across the street to Knit Happens. Mom went in and started looking at everything, and I stayed outside to wait for mah peeps. Clever_Girl and Katestamps arrived first, with C_G pulling up to the curb to let Kate out and then heading around the corner to find parking. I gave Kate a fierce hug and got one in return, then walked her inside to meet my mom. C_G came back and was also introduced, and then Vampkat called looking for us. Just as she was pulled up talking to us, a parking space opened right in front of the store, so she grabbed it and fed the meter. Now the only one we were missing was Yvaine, and knowing that she had lived in Alexandria for a long time, I figured she didn't need me standing outside like a fat, sweaty beacon. :p

Yvaine arrived about 11:30, at which point Kate had already picked out a lace-weight yarn and started a shawl, and C_G and Kat were looking at books and listening to Kate, my mom and both yarn store SAs talk about how easy it is to knit. Mom got a little nervous when the perfume came out and the sniffing started, because she thought we were going to get thrown out! Fortunately, there was no one else in the store, we'd been complimentary about the SAs' projects, and they'd made at least two sales from us. Plus, it had been less than two hours when we all decided we were hungry, and Yvaine won my undying gratitude for knowing of an awesome Lebanese place a few blocks away. I still feel bad for recommending the kibbeh to Kat, who couldn't finish it; but I ate every morsel of mine.

After lunch, Kat had to boogie, but the rest of went to the Nine West outlet, where C_G, Kate and I worshipped the shoes and Yvaine actually bought some. Mom waited outside, because the store was totally crowded. After that, C_G and Kate headed for home, and Mom and Yvaine and I went to The Gap. Mom found skull flip-flops for my nephews, Yvaine got bathing suits and other stuff, and I found a brown and tan tank top that was perfect for my new white outfit. Yvaine is awesome to shop with, and I'm not just saying that because she can reach things I can't. ;)

Yvaine took Mom and me back to the hotel, and came up for a bit for Diet Coke, conversation, and a look at the choker Severina made for me. Even though Mom thinks the necklace is "gross" because of the skeleton, she had to laugh when I said Sev told me the back of the necklace was made from the hide of a Nauga that had died from tuberculosis in true Victorian fashion. When we were a bit rested and restless, Mom and I mentioned that we were planning to take a water taxi to the National Harbor and go to the Peeps store. Yvaine offered to drive us over there, and we took her up on it. I'd have suspected her of merely being a polite person, except I know that she loves her Peeps!

We figured out the parking, and just as we left the garage, it started to rain. We went through a courtyard with a really gorgeous fountain, down a street and then we were looking at the "You Are Here" kiosk and trying to figure out where the Peeps store was, when I realized that it had to be on a lower level. We went down, and sure enough, there it was. There were a bunch of people streaming off the water taxi, and one young girl was throwing up right in the middle of the sidewalk. I very carefully didn't say anything to either of my companions, and tried to hold back my sympathetic gag reflex.

The Peeps store was a lot of fun. They had Peep everything (except for refrigerator magnets, Mousey, sorry :( ), including artwork made out of Peeps on the wall. Even a Warhol-ish Peep picture! There were also huge dispensers full of all the Mike and Ike citrus flavors, and on the opposite wall were four giant dispensers full of four flavors of Hot Tamales. We got a present for Goldilocks, our stated reason for coming, Yvaine loaded up on Peeps, I bought candy, and we headed out to wander around the lower level of the National Harbor.

It's a good thing we were flying home on Sunday, because Yvaine spotted this cupcake place with the most appetizing selection I've seen in a while. They had carrot cake and sea salt caramel, which was all I needed to see! Then we wandered back up to the level we came in on, where we had drinks and three kinds of French fries at a restaurant called Ketchup. There were six kinds of ketchup to dip the fries into, so it was a delicious if not a healthy dinner. On the way back to the car, we stopped at a store called Stonewall Kitchen, where Mom got all kinds of chocolately treats for Dad, I found dark chocolate-covered ginger bits for Vegan Lawyer, and I treated myself to a little bag of dark chocolate-covered espresso-flavored caramels.

Sated and overloaded, we headed back to the car. Yvaine took us to the hotel and said goodbye, and Mom and I went upstairs and had a quiet evening knitting and reading. Mom confessed that she was nervous beforehand because she was afraid my friends would think she was too old to be hanging out with all of us, and she was really touched that C_G and Kat both hugged her before they left. She was glad to have met them, and impressed at how smart and charming my friends are. Of course, I'm impressed, too!

Washington D.C., Friday, May 21st, 2010

For the first and only time on our trip, the alarm went off at 6:30 a.m. Mom and I were both up and dressed and on the 8 a.m. shuttle to the airport Metro station. When we got to downtown D.C., we stopped at a coffeeshop/bakery that could have been local or could have been a stealth Starbucks. Whichever it was, the coffee was good, the bagel was good, and we had fun people-watching.

Next we walked down to Ford's Theater, where we found out we couldn't line up to go inside until fifteen minutes before our ticket time, which left us about twenty minutes to kill. We checked out three or four souvenir shops, looking for bicycle license plates for my nieces and a Washington charm for my charm bracelet. No luck on either in the kitschy places, but I did get a charm at the Ford's theater gift shop.

By then it was 9:40, so we went over and lined up in front of the museum/theater and yakked while we waited for the door to open. At about five 'til, an officious young man instructed us on what to do once he opened the door, and then we headed in. We went through security, and down a whoooooole bunch of stairs to the museum. There was a bookstore, where I picked up a paperback copy of The Last Full Measure by Jeff Shaara, and lots of exhibits about Lincoln during the period of the Civil War. They had videos, documents, memorabilia all arranged in a very sensible fashion, and the whole thing was impressive and very sad. I hit a bench with my right knee (not the end of the recurring theme), but otherwise managed not to make a total fool of myself.

The museum was the first half of the Ford's theater experience. The second half was a one-act play all the way back up those stairs we had come down earlier. I didn't know that Ford's was still a working theater, but in addition to the daily performances of One Destiny, they do other plays. One Destiny was interesting, because I had never really thought about how Booth broadcast his intentions to different people. It's as if he said "Tonight, I'm going to kill the President" one word at a time to one person at a time throughout his day. There was a Q&A afterwards, but Mom didn't want to stay, so I'm left with interwebbinetz research to find out if Our American Cousin was ever performed again.

Mom and I both wanted a good salad for lunch, so we stopped at a chain place called Potbelly that looked interesting, and had good salads. They would have been great salads except they were both made with iceberg lettuce instead of something more vitamin-bearing and interesting. After lunch, we meandered down Pennsylvania Avenue just far enough to find a venerable Post Office which had been converted into a small mall. Mom found two gorgeous pashmina wraps for $20, and we were on our way out when I spotted something wonderful in the window of one of the tourist traps.

We went inside, and I am now the proud owner (and my nieces will be, too) of a Federal duck! He has a blue baseball cap, and a stars-and-stripes t-shirt. :)

At that point we split up, Mom heading for the Library of Congress, properly called the National Library, and me for the Holocaust Memorial Museum. Mom took the map, so of course I got lost and had to call her. When I found the museum, I had about forty minutes to kill, so I found a bench near an ashtray, hauled The Last Full Measure out of my purse, and settled in. My peaceful solitude was briefly interrupted by a horde of teenagers on a bus tour, but fortunately their chaperones and tour guide were just lining them up for the next stop.

There is not a whole lot I can say about the museum. It's a very intense experience, and I didn't, couldn't, look at everything. I had been there for just under three hours when my phone rang, startling me. I thought I'd turned it off before going into the museum. I checked, and the call was coming from the vet hospital where I'd boarded the dogs. Already on the verge of tears, I answered the phone, heard one of the receptionists ask for me, and then the call dropped. It took me about ten minutes to get outside, and in that ten minutes, I thought that Littlefoot was gravely ill or had already died.

My peaceful smoking bench was now in full sunlight instead of shade, and there were people all over, but I called the vet's back and got some not-good news. Littlefoot is in mild to moderate kidney failure. They had started him on a prescription diet, and the best option is that he'll be around for quite a while longer on this expensive stuff. The worst option, of course, is that the food won't help, and I'll be looking at lots of subcutaneous injections of saline or euthanasia. I've seen too many owners keep their animals alive past the time when it would be kinder to let them go, so I know that if it gets that bad, I'll have to let my boy go.

I called Mom, and she was on the grass across the street from the museum, so I walked around it and plonked down beside her and told her. After a few minutes to ease my aching feet, we headed out to walk the Mall and see at least some of the memorials. I had no interest in going to the top of the Washington Monument, so we admired it from the outside, and then walked slowly down the mall to the World War II Memorial. It's absolutely beautiful, and I was a little envious of all the people paddling their feet in the fountain, but not even for cool feet was I going to sit in full sunlight of an 83º day.

Have I mentioned it was freaking hot and I hate heat? It was, and I do. I had pretty much sweated off my sunblock and was just miserable from that, to say nothing of the misery from my poor legs and feet. Still, there was one funny moment as we walked toward the Lincoln Memorial--I swear a squirrel stopped and posed for these two tourists. I said that to them, startling them, and when they'd walked on, I said to Mom that I have got to stop talking to strangers--I say weird things and freak them out. Mom said it was just that they didn't speak English.

Mom had seen the Lincoln Memorial, so she went to see the Korean War Memorial. I sort of gulped a little at the sight of all the steps, but there is an elevator, yay, which I rode up with a nice family--Mom (who took pain pills to make it that far, to which I was all, "Sing it, sistah!"), Dad, and late-teenaged son. I took a picture of the three of them with the statue, politely declined their offer to do the same for me (I do not need a record of how I look when I'm sad, sweaty, overtired and in pain, thanks, I can look in a mirror and see that) and then walked very, very, VERY carefully down the slick marble steps.

We walked slowly past the Vietnam Memorial, and I gave a selfish little prayer of thanks that both of my uncles came home safely. Then we had to walk all the way back to the Smithsonian to catch the Metro. We managed by picking out a bench and aiming for it, stopping to sit for a few minutes when we reached it, then picking another one farther down and repeating the process. Mom said that on her entire eleven-block walk to the Library, there was literally no shade and no place to sit on all of Pennsylvania Avenue. We actually hit a Metro stop north of the Smithsonian, charged up our passes and headed for the airport. It was about 7:45 when we got there, so we decided just to pick up dinner there and either eat it where we got it or downstairs waiting for the airport shuttle. The first place we saw had a gorgeous poster of a caprese sandwich, so we stopped there. There was a manager-type at the counter with the cashier, and when I asked if they had that sandwich, he said the only thing they didn't have was the dinners.

I requested the caprese sandwich (which this place calls an MBT) with chicken. The cashier, who was not all there, asked if I wanted wheat or white, and when I said wheat, promptly said that they only had white. I said carrots rather than chips (they did have those) and asked for a Diet Coke. Mom asked for a smoothie, and was told they didn't have those, so she got hummus and veggies. The cashier then discovered they were out of Diet Coke, so had to deduct that from our total.

Despite the fact that we were the only customers, it took so long for them to get us our food that we decided we'd better eat and wait for the shuttle. So grimy and sweaty and tired and achy, we ate our dinner alfresco, with engines for music and exhaust for atmosphere and concrete for ambience. My sandwich was really good, though.

We got back to the hotel more than twelve hours after we left it, took turns showering, and then spent the evening reading, knitting, and talking a bit. Another good vacation day, except for the bad news about Littlefoot. Btw, he seems to be doing okay on the new food, at least he's eating it.

Washington, D.C., Thursday, May 20th, 2010

Mom slept in until almost nine, which is very unusual for her. I was up at 6:30, so I made coffee in the room, and then went downstairs and had a smoke. I had four books and my knitting, and it was nice out, warm but not hot, so I was in no hurry to make Mom get up and entertain me. One thing I had noticed was that the coffee for the room was one of those single-shot pod dealios, and we had one regular, which I made and drank, and one decaf. I didn't think it was fair that Mom wouldn't get coffee just because I woke up first, so on one of my trips down to smoke, I stopped at the front desk and asked for another regular packet.

"That will be $3.50."

*me blinking*

"Okay. I'll take it."

Desk clerk: "If you wait until tomorrow, Housekeeping will put another one in your room."

*me blinking some more*

"There are two of us, and I just drank the regular coffee."

Desk clerk: "But you get one free one every day, you don't have to buy another one."

*me giving up*

"Just sell me the coffee."

At that point, the desk clerk broke off to answer the phone, and I gathered from her discussion that I could exchange the decaf packet for regular. I confirmed that with her, and said I'd drop it off later if she'd give me the regular now. Then she went and looked and said they were out of regular, but she'd send Housekeeping up to trade.

*eyeroll*

When Mom did get up, I showed her how to work the coffeepot, she was appalled at the charge for additional coffee, and after she got ready, we went down and had another cup of coffee each at the restaurant, and I had a bagel.

Cost of the coffee in the restaurant? $3.50.

We walked to the Metro again, and after consulting our Fodor's and the wall map, bought a pair of day passes and headed for the Smithsonian. There were tons of kids on school trips and lots of amazing exhibits. In the one of Julia Child's kitchen, there was a photo of her bent over the stove in her first apartment with her husband, which really brought home to me how tall she was. In the Inaugural Gowns exhibit, Mom and I laughed about how Betty Ford's formal gown (non-inaugural, of course) was a lovely yellow and green brocade with a hidden zipper up the front. The 1970s have much to answer for! The First Ladies exhibit had my favorite piece in the entire museum. Julia Grant actually had a silver house for her perfume! There was also a fascinating exhibit with one house that existed from the Colonial Period to the 1960s and five of the families who lived in it. We had lunch in the cafeteria, which was good but overpriced, and then saw the Star-Spangled Banner exhibit before visiting the gift shop and heading back to the hotel. When we left the subway, I clocked my right knee (see? Recurring theme...) on the escalator handrail.

As we walked from the subway to the hotel, I suggested that we take the hotel shuttle to the airport and catch the Metro from the airport stop. Mom agreed, and we went upstairs and cleaned up and changed. We caught the 5:00 shuttle, then took the Metro waaaaaaaaaaay up north to U Street. When we exited the Metro, all we had to do was turn around to find the Lincoln Theater, where our show was. The Fodor's book had said that U Street had lots of shopping and restaurants, so we set off to find them. We saw lots of restaurants, but only two drugstores. Mom needed aspirin, so we stopped at CVS, and then we wandered up and down the street looking at menus. There are lots of Ethiopian restaurants on U Street, but we wound up having dinner at a little bistro where they asked if we had reservations but gave us a table even though we didn't. Mom had her second veggie burger of the day, and I had a salad and smoked gouda macaroni and cheese.

After dinner, we walked down U Street and then turned down a side street, where there were a few more shops. We amused ourselves in a place full of kitchen gadgets, awwwed over a patient from a storefront veterinary hospital being walked (a Golden Retriever with one leg in a cast!) and strolled through a plant display which included several mock orange bushes, the scent of which took us both back to Savannah. One thing I saw but didn't quite manage to figure out was several street vendors with multiple bottles of essential or perfume oils. I couldn't tell if they were custom-blending perfumes, or if it was more of a gris-gris kind of thing, but I thought of Beth at BPAL and was very intrigued.

The review Mom and I saw at the Lincoln Theater, Duke Ellington's Sophisticated Ladies was absolutely incredible. The music was gorgeous, of course, well-performed and the dance was amazing. Maurice Hines has incredible talent and stage presentation, and there were two teenaged brothers, fifteen and seventeen, who just rocked the whole house every time they took the stage. It was a long show, so when we left the theater, it was about 10:30, and it was close to 11:00 when we arrived at the airport. After waiting a few minutes, we decided we'd missed the shuttle to the hotel (we hadn't) and took a cab. Since the fare for ten minutes was fifteen dollars, Mom was pleased we hadn't take a cab all the way from U Street!

I did take off my makeup and brush my teeth before falling into bed Thursday night, but that's about all I managed to do.

Washington, D.C., Wednesday, May 19th, 2010

Mom drove me bonkers Wednesday morning insisting we finish everything she'd been putting off before we could leave for the airport. Because I had gone to bed late (packing) and gotten up early (loading the car and driving the dogs to the vet/kennel), by the time we left at 1:00, I had smacked right into the silly zone, and that was only exacerbated by the can of Diet Coke I drank in the car because I didn't have time to drink it in the office.

Our flight was scheduled to leave at 3:20, and we got to the airport just at 2:00. After our inadvertant adventure coming home from Savannah, we were careful to check the flight time. The seating area at our gate was full, so we sat one gate down. Mom took out her book (Freedom by William Safire) and I took out my knitting, and we settled down to wait for our boarding call.

At 3:05, I heard a garbled announcement in which there was a word which sounded sort of like the Jammies family surname. I looked at Mom, and asked if she'd heard it. She had, so I tucked my knitting into my carryon and headed for the desk. A customer service person asked what I needed, and I said, "I thought I heard my name." He answered, "You probably did, where are you going?" I said, "D.C." and he said, "That was the final boarding call for your flight." Mom and I just squeaked on to the plane before they closed the door! Once we were safely in and the plane was airborne, I said, "At least I wanted my mom, not my sandwich!"

The flight was uneventful, but Mom missed the best part--looking out the window as the plane skimmed in over the Potomac. I did tell her that it's pretty impressive that she went from being so scared she needed a Valium to fly to being able to get on a plane and not make a peep until after we landed.

At the airport, we caught a shuttle to our very nice chain hotel in Alexandria, Virginia. Exiting the shuttle, I banged my right knee hard on the door (remember this, it will be a recurring theme). Once we were in the room, I called my friend and fellow BPAL fan, tempete, to see when and where she wanted to meet. She directed us to a mall at Pentagon City, and met us in the food court. Because it was SO very loud there, we left the mall and went to a Mexian place across the street, where we had a nice dinner, with lots of talking and good food. Wei had brought handmade sugar scrubs for me and for Mom, and lip balms for the two of us and for the other four BPAListas I planned to meet on the trip. The reason Wei couldn't meet up with the rest of the group on Saturday was that she was leaving Thursday for a scientific conference in Croatia, where I hope she has some good weather for their reportedly awesome beaches.

After dinner, Mom and I took the Metro back to the Braddock Road stop and walked back to our hotel. I had checked to make sure that the subway was within walking distance of the hotel, and it was only eight blocks away, but about four of those eight blocks were through neighborhoods that were not the nicest. Mom and I agreed that Wednesday evening was the last time we would take that walk in the near-dark.

Back at the hotel, Mom took a shower and I headed for the hot tub, hoping to soak myself enough to relax all my aching muscles. The pool was absolutely infested with teenagers, which didn't bother me. What did bother me was the fact that evidently the chaperones had told the kids that they could only be in the hot tub if there were no adults wanting to use it. I felt a bit bad about the immediate exodus (but not bad enough to not get in!). I soaked for about fifteen minutes, just watching the water and listening to all the horseplay. Then the chaperones chivvied the kids out of the pool, and the attendant said something about finally having peace and quiet for me and for her (she was studying). I replied that without all the noise, I was liable to fall asleep! I squished back to our room, changed into my jammies, rinsed out my suit, and fell asleep without taking off my makeup or brushing my teeth.

Ded Jammehs iz ded

Mom and I are going to Washington, D.C. on Wednesday, so of course we thought this would be a good time to have a handyman take care of one or two things that need fixing. That's all well and good, but I have to move everything out of the library closet while still trying to reclaim my back flowerbeds.

On that subject, I got an early start this morning, removing weeds and schlepping mulch out to the back. I took a short break and went to Ace Hardware for topsoil and Temptation nursery for three white lamium and four blue columbines. I worked outside until it was too hot (noon) and then came inside, finished up the laundry and took a nap. At 6:30, I went back outside and stayed out until 8:30.

I'm both happy with what I accomplished and a bit dismayed that there's still so much too do. The smaller of the tricky beds is weeded, re-soiled and mulched, the seven plants plus two irises which were waiting to be planted are all in, and I scattered a bunch of gladiolus bulbs in there for good measure. At this point, I'm thinking that I'll do the other tricky bed the right way, and on the two narrow beds, I'll wait until fall, then mow everything down and start over in the spring.

Tomorrow night I have to finish cleaning out that closet, and then start packing. My biggest dilemma is how do I know what scents I want to wear until I get there?

*ponder ponder ponder*

The price of mourning

Three hundred sixty-three days ago, I used my tax refund to have my beloved Stormdog put to sleep. I had planned to use the money to buy mulch, but bringing peace to my heartdog was more important. Afterwards, I didn't have the heart or the joy to even go out and weed, so I just let my flowerbeds go.

The beds with the sweet woodruff and the lamium are in the best shape, of course, since that's the job of a good groundcover. All of the rest, however, are a nightmare of nettles, dandelions and dead nettle. Over the last week, I've gotten the bed between the sidewalk and the front lawn completely weeded and mulched, at a cost of ten broken nails, permanently imbedded dirt, and tons of hives.

I still feel Stormy's presence here. It's just as if I had three dogs, only one of them doesn't need to eat or go outside. I've thought about him pretty much the whole time I was weeding, and while I still miss him, I know I did the right thing for him.

On Tuesday, I will take down my big signature picture of Stormy with his birth and death dates. He will always be in my heart, but it's now a warm memory instead of a cold loss.

Love you forever, puppy mine. <3

Kickin' tushie and taking names...

That's what my mom was doing today! Not kicking ass, because Mom doesn't swear (much). Yesterday, she spent most of the day trying to keep a client from shooting himself in the foot (and mostly failing, because the client's an idiot). Today was a much different story.

First thing she did was go to court much more prepared than opposing counsel, and since she was the one who had the support calculations all ready, the magistrate accepted her numbers.

Then she made a reluctant payee cough up the $7 court fee they've been stonewalling us on for two months.

Then she got one of our Wards to accept a temporary solution to a problem he's having when I couldn't even get him to listen to me.

Finally, she got VL to sit down and eat her birthday cake, which nobody could get her to do yesterday.

Way to go, Mom, you rock.

Four basil plants,

Three lavender,
Two cherry tomatoes
And a chocolate mint plant.

Yes, Cochran's, aka Temptation Nursery, is open, and I went today and spent $21 for the above. I have now filled all the gaps in what I hope will someday be my lavender hedge along the driveway, and filled a hanging pot with chocolate mint and peppermint. I have room in the planter for four more basil plants, and the cherry tomatoes are temporarily residing on the stoop in front of the breezeway, until we're past the danger of frost.

On the down side, last year's neglect of the garden and lack of mulching has led to an absolute mess this year. The only part of the back yard that actually looks good is the lamium right by the back door. *sigh*

Oh well, there is a three-day weekend coming up, so hopefully I can get my mulch money together before then.

When your day starts with a live slug on your foot...

don't give up, it might actually get better.

This morning when I let Littlefoot in and Little Miss out, I felt kind of a tickly sensation on one of my feet after I closed the door. I looked down and saw a slug on my foot.

A. SLUG.

ON.

MY.

FOOT!

I proceeded to have what Patrick McManus describe as a Modified Stationary Panic, which involves jumping up and down and screaming, in this case, screaming "GETITOFFME!"

That's an exceptionally silly thing to scream when you live alone except for two dogs, one of which is outside and neither of which have opposable thumbs. Eventually, I did what any sensible person would do--I scraped the slug into the wastebasket, immediately removed and triple-knotted the bag, and then threw it out into the driveway. After that, I rinsed my foot with hydrogen peroxide and vomited.

Hell of a start to my week, and it got even worse at work. Saturday's mail was waiting for me, and it included a letter from the VA regarding one of our guardianships, telling us about the new procedures the VA has decided to start. It's not enough that all accounts going forward must have every single bank statement stamped or sealed by the bank each month, it must be done retroactively for accounts turned in as of 01/01/10. Bastards. Couldn't they go find some actual veterans to, I don't know, help? Instead, they mess around nit-picking the people who are actually helping.

Fortunately, things improved. I worked half a day for Mom, then headed north to have lunch and network a bit with my former co-workers. I got hugs from everyone, reference letters from two of the attorneys, and a compliment from another one. When she hugged me, she said, "Ooooh, you smell good, like flowers and stuff." I was wearing BPAL Swank on top of Skindecent's Sultana dupe, so lots of fruit and not many flowers, but it was still a nice compliment. We had a lovely long lunch at Zoup, then I stopped at the Lush store on my way to Maresche's house. Even though she'd left lunch before me and I'd spent about 30 minutes at Lush, I beat her to the house, so I dragged the Annabelle hydrangea she and her husband had dug up to my car and stuffed it in the trunk. I also got the trunk closed! Yay me! When Maresche got home, I had just enough time to point out her birthday present (a birdbath) and hit the road before rush hour peaked.

I came home, unloaded the hydrangea, which I will plant tomorrow after work, and let the dogs out and in with no slug-related ickiness.

So even Mondays can be newts and get better.

Letter #1

Animal Control
Attn: [Facily Manager's Name Redacted]
460 E. North St.
Akron, OH 44304

Dear Ms. Manager:

Enclosed is a copy of a flyer which was posted on my home mailbox earlier this week. Please note that the flyer specifies that all animals come from the Summit County Animal Control Facility and that the new Executive Director is XX. As I’m sure you remember, the only reason cruelty charges were dropped against XX was that her daughter agreed to plead guilty to the charges against her.

The day after I received the flyer, I called your office, but the young man with whom I spoke dismissed my concerns quite casually. I would very much appreciate some reassurance that Summit County will stop allowing Heaven Can Wait to take animals from your facility or that you are monitoring the health and safety of any animals so removed.

Thank you for your anticipated attention to this matter

Very truly yours,

*sigh*

I can't even work up a good mad about this, I just keep starting to cry.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I have been calling the outsourced HR services of my late, unlamented former employer since my last day of work, trying to find out about my COBRA benefits. They kept telling me I couldn't sign up until the first day after my severance ran out, April 1.

So on April 1, I call to sign up, am told that the paperwork will be sent to me, and that the coverage will be retroactive to 4/1.

The paperwork and bill are actually sent on 4/11, and I am billed for approximately 3.5 times the figure I was quoted per month, AND I was billed for two months, April and May.

When I called to ask about this, I was told that the $179/month (not the %57 I was quoted) was correct, and that even were I to give them a credit card number (which I don't have) right this minute, my coverage would not be effective until after outsourced HR received the payment and forwarded it on to the insurance company, who then would add me back to the policy.

So for the crown I may need, I can go ahead and pay the approximately $500 up front and then request reimbursement from the insurance company.

Yes, because we all know how easy that is.

Basically, I have to give Aetna almost $200 of my money for a month in which they are going to do absolutely nothing for me.

An Akron woman was just sentenced to house arrest for animal abuse and neglect. Here is a lovely picture of her mother, Patricia, at her daughter's sentencing.

So tonight, I get home from work, and find a flyer stuffed between the mailbox and the flag. I open it up to fold it neatly and put it into the recycling, and discover that Heaven Can Wait is holding a big party to reopen this Saturday. The flyer invites the reader to adopt one of the dogs or cats rescued from the Summit County Animal Shelter, and to meet the new Executive Director, Patricia Mihaly.

When I came home from water-walking, I left a voice mail for the reporter who wrote the story I linked to, telling him about the reopening and asking if he knew how this "shelter" is getting more animals from the county shelter. Tomorrow, I will look into finding out how to get the papers necessary to qualify as a 501c and seeing if there are sponsors who might not want to have their names associated with an animal abuse case.

Tonight, I shall fantasize about picketing the shelter open house on Saturday, carrying a blown-up version of Patricia's lovely picture.

MS Walk 2010, Columbus

Yesterday morning, I got up at O'Kogi Hundred (4:30 a.m., if you don't know what potters' schedules are like), had one cup of coffee, let the dogs out and in and fed them, got dressed, brushed my teeth, and was ready when Mom pulled in the driveway at 5:30. We stopped in Mansfield for coffee and then made it to my brother's house before 8.

Yesterday was my nephew's birthday, but as he told us, he was not officially ten until 4:50. He still got hugged and got a token present from Mom (since he'd already had his real present in the form of a five-day trip to NYC). I hung on to the card and cash I had for him until after the Walk.

The sun was shining, but it was extremely chilly, mostly because the wind was really strong. This was my first time doing the MS Walk in Columbus, and I don't know if it's always at the Zoo, but because of that, everyone needed to get a ticket and a wristband for admission, even those of us who had registered online ahead of time, like Mom and me. I have to say that I was extremely unimpressed with the lack of organization. At the Akron Walk, if you register ahead of time, you just need to drop any cash or check donations and start walking. There's also a marching band and balloons and t-shirts and beads at Akron. I saw people with beads and shirts, but I didn't get either. :( Columbus just had everyone standing in a giant mob in front of the registration table, out in the coooooold wind for thirty to forty-five minutes. Ugh.

The Zoo was very nice, and we took a lot of pictures with the boys and the metal sculptures of various animals. I also made my brother take one of me with a manatee sculpture, what for comparison. ;) We didn't walk the whole loop of the zoo, but we did stroll around for about an hour, and I got to look closely at sleeping flamingos, which was pretty cool.

When we all agreed that we were done with our walk, we went out for breakfast at a place called Marie's Scrambler (I think). I gave my nephew his card and $25 in cash. I had spent a bit of time looking for a good birthday card for him, but I had no idea that the hoops&yoyo card would be such a big hit. When I told him I was giving him cash because I couldn't find any Prince of Persia Lego stuff, he said, "Any Lego would do, Auntie Jammies." I thought that was pretty sweet of him, but now he can buy what makes him happiest. I also printed the Lego version of him with his black belt on heavy card stock so his mom can frame it and hang it in his room.

After breakfast, the Pickypants family headed in for a family nap before the big party. Mom and I headed home, with a stop at Michael's. I got some pretty cotton yarns that were on sale, and in the car, Mom helped me cast off the hot pink washcloth that I was planning to surprise her with on Mother's Day. Instead, I tucked it into her bag and told her I'd find something else for her. As usual, she told me to save my money, but we all know I'm not good at that. On the way home, she drove, I knitted, and when she dropped me off, I let the dogs out and in, and then collapsed into bed for a good long nap.

Thanks to everyone who sponsored Mom and me. And even though Mom thinks the Akron MS Walk is boring, I prefer an animal-less walk and fewer registration hassles, so next year, I'm going local again!

WTF is wrong with me?

First I burst into tears when I see a big, black-and-white, Shepherd-y mix hanging his head out of a car window and having fun.

Next, I get teary when Jonathan gets auf'd from Project Runway.

Then the conjoined Barbies at water-walking make me furiously angry.

And now, I'm all ticked that Gail Carriger's latest book ends with a freaking cliffhanger. I hate cliffhangers, but I shouldn't be quite this irritated.

So WTF is with all the overemotional reactions lately? It can't be hormones, I don't have hormones anymore.

Aaaargh!

MS Walk 2010

Mom and I are walking together in Columbus this year, along with my brother, sister-in-law and both of my nephews. If you're interested in making a donation, send me an e-mail and I'll send you a link.

A Little Fall of Rain

I've always loved that song and I've almost always loved the sound of rain falling.

Very early Sunday morning, there was a brief shower over Casa de Jammies. I'm not usually the type of person who can wake up and be awake--I need my coffee and some time. However, when I hear what sounds like a dog piddling in my bedroom at three-thirty, I tend to be awake very quickly. Once my adrenaline rush had worn off, it was nice to hear a soft shower through my open bedroom windows. It would have been nicer had I not had to get up at 6:40 for work.

This morning, at 4:54, I heard the same sound, but quickly realized it wasn't raining--Little Miss was piddling on my bed. I jumped up just as she finished, whisked off all the bedding and threw it downstairs, then put her outside for a bit while I started laundry and the coffee. I tried twice between waking up and leaving for the day to get a urine sample from her, but no luck.

This afternoon, I came home, took Little Miss out again and still couldn't get a sample, so I loaded her into the car and headed for the vet's office. I got there early enough for one of the techs to come outside and follow us around to see if we could get a sample that way, but again, no dice. We gave up after ten minutes and headed inside, where the tech showed us to the dog room. Thirty seconds after walking into the room, Little Miss shivered, peed all over the floor and pressed up against me. The tech ran for a pipette, laughed that apparently all we needed to do was scare the pee out of my dog, took the sample to be tested and cleaned up the floor. I chatted with the receptionists as I waited, then Dr. B came in.

We joked a bit as he and the tech hoisted Little Miss to the table, as he had the tech take the dog's back end. He checked her gums and her heartbeat while telling me that she did have a UTI. However, although he found a lot of bacteria in her urine, he did not find a lot of red blood cells, so I caught it early. I gave him credit for teaching me what to look for, and thanked him for fitting my sick pupster into his schedule. He gave her ten days' worth of antibiotics, which means ten days of cream cheese, which will make for a happy puppy, and with any luck, any rain I hear tonight will be more Norah Jones than nightmare.

Entitled or insecure?

If someone asks for advice on a message board, and one of the respondents posts a 500-word patronizing, condescending, polysyllabic bloviation in response, what does it make said bloviator when she then returns to the thread to complain that the original poster hasn't thanked her for her post? Specifically, when said bloviator says she wants back the time she invested?

Disgustingly entitled, or horrendously insecure?

*ponders*

The miracles of modern medicine

To the overaged Barbie dolls at water-walking yesterday:

I'm so impressed that not only do your faces show only subtle signs of plastic surgery, but that you managed to be separated after your conjoined birth. However, now that you have been separated, it is not necessary to always stay together, even when you are in a group exercise class and blocking the progress of people who are there to work out rather than chat.

I see dead people.

Wednesday night at water-walking, I saw Uncle Fester in swim trunks, accompanied by an adorable little girl in a hot pink swimsuit with a tutu attached, and I saw Stonewall Jackson getting into the lap pool.

Tuesday on my walk to file some stuff at court, I saw J.E.B. Stuart by the Health Department, and wanted to point east and tell him to get to Gettysburg before Lee did something stupid.

Yes, it's been a weird week.

Learning to fish is hard!

If you've heard me tell this story before, skip to the next paragraph. My mother is good with an awful lot of things, but she's got at most basic skills with a computer. One time, my dad was trying to get her to branch out, and used the old "Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day/Teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime." bit on her. Mom said, "Just shut up and give me the damn fish." It's hilarious both because my mother rarely swears, and also because it's the perfect exasperated response.

The last six weeks, Mom and I have been giving each other fish. She's cast on and cast off my knitting, fixed dropped or extra stitches, told me how to find my gauge, etc. I've been monitoring her new work e-mail, doing attachments and switching identities, etc.

On Friday, before she left for a week in NYC with my dad and my nephew, Mom sent three e-mails with attachments herself. When she was doing the second one, trying to remember the next step without me prompting her, she said, "Learning to fish is hard." If you know my mom, you can hear her saying that. If you don't know her, just imagine a quiet, ladylike voice saying this in a tone of mingled resignation and pouting. She did it, though, sent all three e-mails with coaching but no stepping in for me.

With that in mind, this morning after my two cups of coffee, I watched the long-tail cast on video at Knitting Help about ten times, started my own cast, unraveled, re-watched the video, tried again, rinsed and repeated until I had 60 stitches on #7 needles, and then knitted an inch while I watched last week's episode of The Amazing Race.

It's just a bluegill, but I did it. :)

Around here, spring doesn't spring, it vrooooms.

Yes, the temperatures are getting warmer--it was in the high fifties today.

Yes, the daffodils are growing about an inch a day. In fact, sometimes I wonder if I could just sit and see them actually growing.

Yes, the back yard is the usual swampy mess.

The real sign of spring, though, happened today as I was thinking about taking a nap--the yobs next door got their dirt bikes out and started revving them up and then took them out for a very loud test ride.

Happy Ostara!

Don't eat the cheezy poofs!

Since last Thursday, there has been a big, poofy, bright orange cheese puff of unknown origin in my driveway. From Thursday through Saturday, it looked no different--no sign of decaying, no sign of nibbling by wild critters, nothing. Sunday morning, it had lost some of its bright orange-ness due to the snow we got overnight, but other than that, it's still the exact same piece of preservative-laden, artery-clogging, cheesefood-flavored styrofoam.

Perhaps I should start testing any snack foods I want to eat. If the critters won't touch it, then I shouldn't eat it.

Does anyone other than my mother like DST?

Ick. It's back to getting up in the dark, getting headaches because I haven't slept enough, screwing up my circadian rhythms and just generally having my life messed up because one hundred ten years ago, the practice saved on lighting. Double ick.

To add to my general grumpishness, my nails are all either flaking or broken, I sliced a chunk of skin off my right index finger yesterday, and I still haven't done my taxes. I'd go back to bed, but I haven't changed the sheets.

Hmpf.

This looks familiar...

Dear Dog,

Yes, it comes in 40 pound green and white bags. Yes, it is distributed around the house in big bowls. Yes, it is crumbly and damp and apparently tasty, at least to you. However, it is NOT dog food. This is proven every time you barf it back up.

STOP EATING THE DAMN POTTING SOIL!

Works in Progress

Mine:



Mom's:



It's so easy to tell who the novice is that there's not much point in posting these, but they made me grin.

Oh, and I'm done with my lame-ass square!

I hate knitting

It's hard, I'm bad at it, and while other people are doing lace and intarsia and inventing their own damn patterns, I can't even finish one damn square without screwing it up! Aaaargh!

Plus, my toe is infected, of course, which means that not only am I unable to finish the Goddamn Knitting, I can't take my frustrations out in the pool. I can't walk, because that involves closed-toe shoes, which are verboten unless I am actually outside, so I'm reduced to the icky old exercise bike in the basement.

Bad Mood. Ur doin' it right.

Oh, no, not again!

My right big toe was bothering me over the weekend, and it felt as if the nail was growing back. Yesterday morning, I called Dr. Happy Feet and made an appointment for the first thing today. I got all prettied up for work, assuming that Dr. HF would take a look, tell me if I was wrong or right, and if the latter, have me schedule an appointment for fixing it.

Well! That is not at all what happened. When the doc took a look at my toe (after I explained that the discoloration was nail polish I'd missed cleaning off), he said that yes, the nail was growing back. Instead of having me make an appointment, though, he promptly injected me twice with Novocaine, dug out the bit of nail regrowth, and applied Phenol. I am now home, under orders to stay off my feet and keep the right foot elevated as much as possible, while avoiding shoes and stairs for the rest of the day.

I'm also not allowed to go to the pool until maybe after my follow-up appointment next Monday.

Pfui, pfeet.