The Unwieldy Traveler

SO, David is home for the week visiting his family. He had wanted to for awhile, his parents are now in their 90's and he didn't want to keep saying "next year" - and then have it be too late. We've been having some upheaval at work so after looking at my schedule I told him to book a flight for this Saturday and I would see all of my clients at warp speed for the next two weeks, scheduling one for Saturday around 10am. That way I could drop him off, grab some coffee and see the client. The week he was gone would be more lowkey and I could use personal time to get home to take care of the dogs. Note to self - NEVER let David book his own flight. He took what I said as written in stone and did indeed book a flight from Sat to Saturday. The departing flight left at 5:50 - AM people, AM. I asked him (hysterically) if he realized that the flight was departing from Pittsburgh, an hour ride from our house - he did but didn't think it would be that bad. I asked if he realized he needed to be there 2 hours PRIOR to the flight leaving - oh, oops, yeah, no he didn't.  This meant of course we needed to be out of the house at 2:30 in the morning, I would get him there by 4 AM IN THE MORNING and then be free to dork around Pittsburgh until 10 am when I saw my client. Hmm. The dogs were another issue, there would be no one to let them out until noon, I tried to explain it to them but Molly kept thinking there were biscuits involved and Reuben just feel asleep. David called our kennel but they were full - but then he called back and said they could share a kennel since it was only for one night - thank goodness! David was able to drop them off Friday early afternoon and it was one less thing to worry about. We tried to go to bed early but the sun refused to set so I fell asleep at the usual time despite my best efforts.  So we bounced out of bed at 1:45, staggered to the shower, I tried to make my hair look like it had NOT be styled by a chimpanzee with a meth habit and went scootering off to the airport. David is not a good traveler so he worried and fretted til I kicked him to the curb at the airport. Then I was free to....hmm. Starbucks was not open. Panera Bread was not open. Apparently it is only NYC that is the city that never sleeps, Pittsburgh apparently does not know that rule. So I got coffee at Sheetz and read for an hour or so, then Panera opened. It was not too bad, I got my grocery shopping done and dorked around the waterfront for a little while but I was glad to get done and heading home - boy I was tired!!. I picked up the inmates around 11:30 paying cash and paying extra - I was extremely grateful to the people that own the kennel and accomadated us. I have no idea what I would have done without Kritter Cutz and Kennel. I got everyone fed, out and settled, did a few things around the house......and the electric went out. I was way too tired for that, seriously. I called and  it came back on an hour later, thank goodness. We had an uneventful night and a pretty good day. Hopefully the rest of the week will stay that way til I pick up David on Saturday next week - at 11 o'clock - AT NIGHT. 

The Unkindest Cut Of All

We only had our Scout for a short time, not even a year from when we found him abandoned in our garage. Maybe the person that dumped him thought he would find a home with us - he did, after David cut him out of the wall he'd sought refuge in. He was terrifed of course, crying himself hoarse and hiding when we came near. No animal deserves that treatment, the party that dumped him did him no favors.  After a few days we finally got him to accept us - and brought him in. We fed him, had him neutered, he was our boy and despite his short time on this earth, he had it pretty good. Had we not found him so quickly things could have gone south for him, but we did and things didn't. How he ended up on the road is a mystery to us - we never saw him in the front. Every night when I called him in he came from the fields next door, after a hard day of terrorizing the mice. He was a sweet silly cat and I miss him greatly. I know everyone likes to say Never Again, it's not fun having your heart shattered every once in awhile. But , I'm not sorry - I gave a stray kitten a fighting chance, he did not ever starve, suffer an injury, no one threw things at him, he spent not one night cold or hungry. I would have liked for him to live his full life, to grow old and skinny like my Vincent who is currently working towards the sunset of his long and uneventful life.  But it was not in the cards. Our neighbor called and let us know he had been killed, after seeing the poster David put up and for that I'm grateful. The only thing worse then having a pet die suddenly is not knowing - imaging them lost and crying, I called him for days, every morning and evening hoping to hear his hilariously loud call back to me.  I'm sad that he's gone, but grateful he went quickly, without suffering. And no, I'm not going to look for a cat - I know one will find me. 

So, who bought this?? - When This Girl Accepted A Strangers Friend Request On Facebook She Didn’t Expect What He Would Do. Her Poor Daughter..

This recently appeared on Facebook - I found it  misleading and offensive, It was beyond belief that someone would go to the trouble of posting it - and then thousands of people would share it "to save a life". Why was I so upset by it? First of all - it's lifted from an episode of Criminal Minds and it never happened. But like most urban legends there are parents out there that are either crying over this poor fictitious girl or are frantically re-posting it in an effort to catch the criminal trolling for kindergartners to sell over seas. I find it amazing anyone would even buy this - the premise of this story is a  parent has befriended a cute guy on Facebook who after seeing a picture of her kid E bays the kid, snatches her from school, throws a bag over her head and zips her off to South Africa. Hmm. Been to a school lately? I have - I do visits to schools in my job. I have to have photo ID, sign in with time, make or car, color of the car, and then go through a metal detector. And this kidnapper not only manages to make off with the kid but flies her all the way to South Africa with no ID and a bag on her head. Absolutely amazing!

If you want to protect your kids never mind Dr. Evil, look around you. Did you know that according to FBI statistics the children snatched by a stranger account for 1/100th of a PERCENT? And they note that most likely is not accurate as a family or individual covering up a murder of a child will report that child as missing to cover their tracks.The term "stranger" also covers people you're in contact with or people that see the child physically. Someone brought up Etan Patz but the man most likely responsible for his abduction actually worked in a store in his neighborhood - a stranger that was acquainted with the victim. The person most likely to victimize a child unfortunately, is a family member, a family friend or someone in an authoritative position such as a priest, teacher, scout leader. Look at the Duggars - it was not a stranger that molested those girls - including one as young as 5 years old - it was their own sibling. And it was not some outside agency that helped their brother continue with his crime - it was their own parents, not some "stranger danger". And more sickeningly they continue to downplay it - that it was a "little touch on the outside of clothes" which does not jive with the police report that stated "forcible fondling of the breast and vaginal area".

I guess it bothers me because it's just one more reason for Helicopter Parenting to continue - because of things like this being repeatedly shared til people think it's true. We've ended up a nation afraid to let our kids out of sight. EVER. My kids played in the neighborhood, they rode their bikes without me staring them down, walked to friend's house. If it was on our road they could go by themselves, any further and it was either both kids or with a friend. Do that now and I'd be looking to be arrested. But I knew where they were and really, now with cell phones, they're just a call away. We've managed to turn an entire generation into people that cannot be self sufficient, eternal teenagers. I"m glad my kids were up and gone before the internet took that away from them. And yes my kids were "free range" and still are!! 

To Be Or Clot To Be, That Is The Question.

 SO, I got the results of the Leiden Factor 5 blood test back a couple of weeks ago. I waited for a few days and then finally called - the person cheerfully was "hmm, Julia L-e-s-t-e-r, oh there you are! It's positive so I guess we'd better make you an appointment with the hematologist. Hello? Are you there? Hello?" I was a bit astonished as the only thing I thought would be positive would be, well me being negative. So they sent my results to hematology and I had an appointment on Wednesday. First of all it's in the Cancer Center which was a bit daunting, I felt very out of place to say the least. They had sent me the forms at home so that was all done. I had brought what I consider my "car sock" - I leave it in the backseat so if I have spare time I just knit on that. They called me and did my weight, my vitals, etc - it was very weird as there is nothing wrong with me, I was asked if I was ever tired or had fallen lately. I actually lied on falling question but technically my falling is usually related to a Common Sense Deficit such as standing on a tippy chair in the woods trying to reach something. Or chasing the dog through the mud and going ass over tea kettle into a ditch. So in order to cut to the chase I said no. The doctor was very nice and told me I only had one copy of the Factor 5 gene which is a good thing. However, having had clots in the past and my family history that is a not so good thing so I have to have MORE blood tests. I am only on baby aspirin twice a day so that was a super fun thing. I bought the little orange chewable ones which was not a good idea as I ate 6 of them the first day. They are very good. They also remind me of my friend in 4rth grade Kathy Turner from Arkansas - she was the baby aspirin addict. Her mother tried to keep them out of her reach but if you slept over Kathy's house she would push the chairs up to the counter. She would stand on her tiptoes reaching way to the back of the very top shelf and there would be the orange baby aspirins that she would split with her guest. I'm surprised we didn't bleed out some weekends. ANYHOW, I have to get more tests done, then another appointment in 6 weeks and hopefully it will remain a couple of little aspirins a day. That I can handle.

what A Week!!

wow,what a week! It started out ok, the house was going to be sold Monday,Tuesday I had my first doctor's  appointment for a baseline. Monday came - not a peep from the RE, nothing nada. We had a lovely blow out fight of course, David dragged the Afghan and his share of the dogs and slept in the guest room. The next morning things had calmed, my  MD appointment  went well, we decided to go to Morgantown to shop and relax, then phone range when we got there - closing at two. Quick food shopped, David dropped me and the food off and then went to the closing. He returned triumphant, money in the bank. Easter was Sunday so we planned a quiet dinner to celebrate the sale and the holiday. Wednesday I got a text from my sister's wife that Janet might have had a TIA, but she was stable. Thursday morning the shit hit the fan

I had left my phone in the car at work so went down to get my phone and found a text from Diane that Janet had a stroke. After a 20 minute meltdown I spoke to my boss, finished my work, quick got my oil changed for the trip ahead and the next morning drove straight from my house to Riddle hospital. Janet was up and talking much to my relief - Diane hoped she would be released that night but they weren't done with her yet.Our family has a genetic clotting disorder but she had tested negative so they needed to look further. In the meantime Diane had managed to cut her finger badly enough for stitches. Yikes! But things got better, Janet got sprung in the morning and in the afternoon I got to go to the pickle store AND a yarn store. I stayed for Easter dinner, it was nice having dinner with family. I took off around 3, loaded with an Easter dinner for David, he ate late, but he got dinner too.On Monday I got labs drawn because our family has a genetic clotting disorder. I called the doctors office this morning and surprise, I have it. So I will be visiting the hematologic next week, but better to find out this way then to throw a clot.

To The Dump!

The conversation about the dump actually started with a picture of David's Uncle Richard's trailer in Amagansett  that he's selling for a cool million. And he'll most likely get it because over the years he's become surrounded by the rich and famous. Who are not fond of trailers or bait shanties. Or locals close up. So this conversation took a Remember When turn which eventually meandered to the local dump. There's a Facebook page frequented by transplanted and current locals so I posted a couple paragraphs - and in about 16 hours it's been liked over 50 times with comments still coming. The dump of my childhood was huge, it was used by the surrounding towns before they started trucking it out. Going to the dump was a favored activity, we often went with friends and if you didn't go with them it was OK because they were probably down there already. It sounds strange to anyone not growing up there but it was not just garbage - it was everything people didn't want. David was once given a hideous dining set by a client, it was a fake Mediterranean style complete with green tinted veneer and fake iron embellishments - he tried to give it away and finally gave up. He loaded it in the truck and as he was unloading a station wagon pulled up. The guy started cheerfully packing it in his car as David unpacked it out of ours - the pre-cursor to repurposing. He waited while David fished the nuts and bolts out of the truck bed, off he went with his "new" dining set.And that was everyone, the ugly old dresser you hated someone else  loved and crowed over their lucky find. There was so much that could be fixed and repaired, one woman reminisced that her father brought home broken bikes to fix and give to the kids that couldnt afford them. My mother had a friend that would brag about the slipcovers she found in perfect condition - in my 50s and I still recall that! The old toys were new to us,  scrap wood for forts and birdhouses. The guys at the dump would separate things into piles, household, appliances, the ever popular old lawn mowers. The summer people would dump tons of stuff rather than cart it back at the end of the season and it was ours for the taking! Shooting rats was an activity that started at dusk to early evening, it was the spot to go for practice with your new gun - a never ending supply of targets. Everyone took their kids down the dump for rat shooting or playing. Now of course it would be an insurance nightmare, you do realize our parents let us wander freely to explore and looking back no one ever died tragically at the dump. So there's a rather odd but fondly remembered childhood memory. And the funny thing is I'm not alone

You Can't Always Get What You Want

There was a cat food commercial I used to find hilarious,it involved a family that adopted a stray cat on a dark and stormy night. No, I don't find stray or homeless cats funny, but the stray they patted off with a towel was either a Maine Coon or a Persian. Given the state of the cat' s coat he had obviously - and  recently been abandoned by a groomer. The Comercial makes me laugh because well, I've adopted cats off my porch, from under the house, under a bed, the pound and not one has been a Persian. My first cat was a tabby, much like the one I have now. I mentioned I would love to have a cat and a relative deposited one ASAP. I went to the pound for the next one, surely they must have one long haired cat. They might have but I could not see past desperate orange tabby trying so hard to get my attention. Mr Lee came next, born to the stray we took in under Adams bed. The mother took off ASAP, I re homed most of them and we kept the tiny black runt. We were not good at figuring out the boy or girl cat thing so it was intedesting when Mr Lee gave birth to 3 kittens, one of whom had long hair that we kept. We had one brief moment of that tiny longhaired cat- stolen and gone. Claw came next grey and white. Vincent, stray, starving and black appeared next, beaten to a pulp. And now Scout, teeny tabby dumped. I gave up on the persian years ago, I had a patient that put it all into perspective for me. She saved abandoned animals and one day I was admiring one of her rescues. He was a magnificent long haired dark grey cat with the most startling green eyes. I said what a beautiful cat and she rolled her eyes. That cat she said was too damaged and skittish to give to anyone. But,pointing to a half grown one "that yellow cat loves everyone, he is the nicest cat. I took him off a man who was getting ready to break his neck because he wouldn't go away. He just kept coming back and the guy threw him, and he came back again and again". She looked at that cat, angry. "Do you want him,?No of course you don't, who wants him - he's nothing, a nobody. No one wants a plain yellow cat do they?". She took a couple of steadying breaths and apologized for getting so upset, but I could see what she meant. So after that MY perspective changed - which is why my cats come off the porch, out from under beds and are retrieved from the garage. To quote The Stones you don't always get what you want, but if you try - sometimes you get what you need.