Month: February 2012

Leap Day!

When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap.
– Cynthia Heimel

Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.
– Gloria Steinem

When men have come to the edge of a precipice, it is the lover of life who has the spirit to leap backwards, and only the pessimist who continues to believe in progress.
– Gilbert Keith Chesterton, 1874 – 1936

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at it destination full of hope.
– Maya Angelou

Half of the failures in life come from pulling one’s horse when he is leaping.
– Thomas Hood, 1799 – 1845

Life is a traveling to the edge of knowledge, then a leap taken.
– D. H. Lawrence, 1885 – 1930

The weekly drama

HAH!  no drama to speak of this week.

From last week, my son booted the baby mama out, which I really hate, but will get used to, I suppose.  I didn’t have to live with her.  I worry that I won’t see Katie as much and she’ll be subjected to crazy people, but maybe not.  I feel bad for all of them.  The rise in childhood obesity corresponds exactly to the rise in divorce rates.  I read that somewhere.  On the internets.  So it must be true.

Goob is doing fine, blood sugar is fine, surgery is healing nicely, and he barked enough last Friday to incite our neighbor into even greater deeds of spying.  Crazy old man.  Jeebus.  On a ladder into our yard.  Peering non-stop through the fence.  Wiggling the bushes when we get to close to the fence line like he’s backing up not to get caught.   I flip him off a lot, don’t suppose it helps but?  Next I’m going to post a bible verse in big letters to the back of the house just for him.  About a spy being as bad as a murderer.  That should fan the flame a little.  He’s really starting to bug us.  He’s older than dirt but in good shape.  The little bastard will probably outlive me.  I think he’s pushing 80.  At least.  I’m going to swim naked a lot this summer in hopes of giving a heart attack.

Here he is, on a ladder on his side of the fence, looking into our backyard.  He’s an old perv, I think.  Maybe the naked swimming is a bad idea.

 

 

 

Affection on Valentine’s Day

Animals are reliable, many full of love, true in their affections, predictable in their actions, grateful and loyal. Difficult standards for people to live up to.
– Alfred A. Montapert

Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives.
– C. S. Lewis, 1898 – 1963

We should measure affection, not like youngsters by the ardor of its passion, but by its strength and constancy.
– Cicero, 106 – 43 BC

When you make an omelet, as when you make love, affection counts for more than technique.
– Isabel Allende

Noble characters and pure affections and happy scenes are very comforting things. They’re a refuge from life’s disillusionment.
– Gustave Flaubert, 1821 – 1880

Does it really matter what these affectionate people do, so long as they don’t do it in the streets and frighten the horses?
– Mrs Patrick Campbell, 1865 – 1940

Via Van the Quotemaster

 

Goob Progress

Labs came back, the big cancer was benign, and the spleen was granulated but benign, whatever that means. Was nice to get some good news for a change.  Gunnar’s mouth is back to normal, he’s eating and pooping (still loose but ? ) and we found out something weird but interesting.

His behavior had become odder over the last couple of months – chasing the shadow of his ears, freaking out over any flickering light and wanting to get it, really OCD-acting.  He’s always been flaky but this was getting out of hand.  Turns out the big cancer pumps out whatever the opposite of glucose is so he had low blood sugar and wasn’t running on all his cylinders.  Isn’t that weird?  He’s behaving almost normally now. Of course, normal for Goob would be not so normal in a different dog ..

One bad thing out of all that – they shaved off his nipples when they prepped him for surgery.  I’ll bet that hurt.  He had explosive diarrhea all over the prep tech so she was probably paying him back.  Still, they do all need to be able to deal with poop.  I’m trying to decide whether it’s worth pursuing.  I’ll probably talk to the doc when he gets his staples out next week.

 

From Ebert’s Newsletter –

Scottish artist Robert Montgomery goes about at night illegally plastering over advertisements with posters covered in his poetry. His very pleasing verse is presented in white typography on a black background, screaming out ideas about beauty, consumerism and hypocrisy, among other things. The elegant words, and their sparse presentation, have been appearing on hoardings for the last ten years.

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Rick’s mass was terrible.  Watching my son carry his father’s ashes down the aisle was very, very hard.  He said that finally made it real for him.   Sad day.

Weakly rap up

Oh, sweet jeebus, another bizarre week.

Goob, the German Shepherd (of the Paint Your Own Dog Fame), had terrible diarrhea again and I decided to take him to the vet.  Ended up taking him to emergency surgery (by one of the teaching docs at UCD!) and having a gigantic tumor cut off his stomach (inside). And they took out his spleen because it was icky.  Don’t know yet if the tumor was benign or malignant, won’t know until the middle of the week.  I hope it’s benign because we can’t afford chemo.  This whole thing ended up being slightly over $5,000.  I’m not making that up.  There was a moment there when we were not going to do it, but then we realized it would be even harder not to. So we got the surgery done.

Also this week we learned that the diabetic cat is not doing as well as she once was.  Kidneys are probably starting to go, blood sugar over time was not too good.  I am blaming myself for that last one.  Have been feeding her too much kitty crack.  But she loves it so, and I keep thinking she won’t have that much longer so why the hell can’t she just enjoy herself?  Now we get to buy cat food that is $29 for a 6 lb bag.  I’m not making that up, either.  At least they like it.   We might actually be able to feed them their tiny high calorie bit of it (little cat, 1/4 cup a day, fat cat 1/2 – 3/4, Cheetah, 1/2 cup) while we watch them eat.  And that will be the extent of it.  Fat cat will lose weight and I will be able to quit cleaning her arse for her.  Gee, that would be too bad.

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Rick’s mass is tomorrow, then a meet and greet and eat afterward. I will attend the first, probably skip the latter.  None of my people will be there (except Andrew), just all of his new wife’s people.  His mom isn’t going, it’s too hard on her to be out of her environment after her stroke.  Ricky was her baby, her favorite, always.  Should have said that in the obit.  I imagine this will do her in.

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Bob went to fix something under my tub in the bathroom, took a panel out and found extensive mold from a leak that can’t be reached w/out knocking the tile out.  Have to redo the whole thing, it’s a mess and probably explains why I haven’t been feeling so great.  Lots of mold.  Mold is my enemy.  On a positive note, we’ll be able the replace the non-working, butt-ugly jacuzzi that is my tub/shower.  Hard to get in and out of because sides are so high and I am so dang old these days.

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I’m starting a yoga foundation series tomorrow night.  I went to a 101 class, I like it.  It hurt but then my back was really great for a day, and then excruciating ever since. Worse than ever.  Maybe if I do it regularly it will get a lot better.  I have degenerative disk disease, fairly advanced for someone my age.  Also, I was just diagnosed with Morton’s neuroma in my foot.  Falling apart, I am.  I got a cortisone shot in the foot, helped a lot, but about made me pee my pants when he did it.  Not much fun. But worth it.  I can walk again on it.

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Anyway: Goob is back home now (since this afternoon), in his bed, happy to be with us.  His mouth is a thousand times sorer than his stomach, I suppose from the intubation.  He has a lot of medicine to take but the sore mouth made giving him pills difficult until I figured out how to do it in the baby food he’s eating.  Yes, I am feeding the German Shepherd baby food.   Baby food and chicken stock.  Hopefully not for too long.