care bear beams and roller grill nights

My miserable cast and stitches were removed yesterday.  Good riddance!  The stitches were causing about 80% of the pain, which makes me feel a little embarrassed.  The achilles rupture didn't take me out, but the stitches?  They pretty much turned me into a monster.  

I am only feeling some superficial pain from the stitches.  The biggest thing I'm dealing with is what feels like a forest fire in my boot.  Turns out I carried the fire with me from cast to boot.  Who would have thunk it?  The healing powers are doing some kind of fire dance with bonus crackling flame sensations.

Thankfully Robert found the best ice machine ever with a bootie that fits underneath my boot.  We put the machine between our heads last night and set it to 30 minutes on, 30 minutes off.

This picture is the machine taking up valuable book space.  Sacrifices!  Unlike the ice machine I had after my meniscus repair surgery which had the plug beneath my foot, I can unplug this one on my own.  This is what eleven years of technology advancements looks like.

Josie has been absolutely glued to me since this whole thing started, but even more in the last few days, especially at night.  We weren't sure what she would think of the ice machine and long hose, but she squeezed herself in.  Each time I woke up to rotate myself she was there and a couple times she was even laying on the hose, which didn't look comfortable at all.

She does something I've only known one other dog to do.  She stretches herself out so that she's touching me from head to toe.  Each time I turn she makes small adjustments so that she's still snuggled as close as she can get.  Rose, our maternal and sometimes stern reincarnation of Emily Post, would do this same thing. It's a little like being in a roller grill but the hot dog next to you is glued to you and covered in fur.  Sometimes Josie cuddles so close she oozes into my roller grill spot when I rotate.  After about five turns I only have about five inches of bed space left, and poor Robert has to help me roll her back to her own spot on the roller grill.  This is how it's been going a few times a night: 

"Robert?"

Silence.

"Robert!"

Some kind of unintelligible noise.  

"Your dog's butt." 

That's all I have to say, and he knows it's time to help me move her again.  

I just can't get over this dog.  She is taking such good care of me.  I think Josie and Robert's care have doubled the healing powers in my house.  The beams of light from these two care bears is probably what's fueling the forest fire.

I am wearing all four wedges in my boot right now and non-weight bearing.  One by one the wedges will disappear, and as each one disappears I will become weight bearing 25% at a time (and probably have a taco party each time too).

I start PT next week, and I already know the first question I am going to ask.  I have been separated from my home workouts for too long, and I've already modified the lists to remove the things I can't do at the moment (see you later sumo squats and planks) and left the things I can do (hello upper body weights and leg lifts).  

At the exact moment I had the achilles injury Robert was busy coding a new version of my home workout list.  Prior to the summer, I used a program (shortcut) Robert created to pull 25 numbers from from my exercise list, which has about 100-150 exercises.  Sometimes multiple numbers appeared in the same workout - like a motherload of planks (which I did 30 miserable seconds at a time because that's my max time).  Sometimes the random numbers were balanced.  Sometimes the numbers zinged the other way and I would spend an ungodly amount of time rolling muscles and doing breathing exercises. 

Over the summer I learned the importance of sequencing, and an expert went over my exercises with me.  We deleted a few that were either not a good fit or they just weren't good for your body (turns out sit ups are terrible for you!).  We added in the ones I needed to do for my specific kind of pelvic floor therapy, and the last thing we did was sort them into four categories - warming, strength, balance, and stretching/mindfulness.  Cardio is important too, but it's separate from the home workouts.  Robert was busy coding a program that would give me a list of 3-7 exercises per category.  In addition to creating a program for the four different categories, Robert was factoring in duration too (gotta love his beautiful nerd brain).  There are longer exercises like sun salutations and shorter ones like getting off the floor with zero assists (although there are days this one takes longer!).  I was initially worried about the sequencing, because the surprise of various random generators and shortcuts is a small gift to myself and also helps my mind relax.  With Robert's program I will be able to follow the sequencing while still randoming the numbers within each category.

I know I will not be able to play tennis for another 8-11 months.  But getting my daily exercises back and doing my PT will be a huge mood boost for me.  I've heard it's not going to be easy, but any work I can do will help me feel like I'm doing something to put all the pieces back together again.  Who knows, by the end of the year I might be going for walks with my care bear homies.

happily ever after horror movie

Tomorrow will be one week since my surgery, a milestone I'm celebrating early.  There are hours I'm engaged in work, school assignments, reading.  And there are hours I'm gritting my teeth, counting down each quarter hour as I ride the pain and tame my imagination about what's going on under the splint.  I stopped taking pain meds after Saturday, and the days have been doable, but the nights are like some terrible horror movie.

Robert went through a similar surgery when the tendon on the side of his ankle snapped.  I'm not sure what the name of that tendon is, so let's just call it hellraiser.  Though our stories are similar, Robert had the extra challenge of discovering there wasn't a groove to hold hellraiser once it was stitched back together.  So he went from splint to a hard cast, because they had to grind out a new groove in his ankle bone to hold hellraiser.  So yes, we've both had haywire tendon surgery stories, and he knows what I'm going through, but his was on a whole different level.

Each time I share a new pain with him, he's so nonchalant, like he's describing how a server works. 

There's the fire-hot glass pain in the bottom of the heel (his response - "oh that's just blood pooling").  

There's the gnawing on the back of my heel with razor teeth pain (his response - "just your stitches rubbing on the splint").  

There's the feeling of giant spasms in the calf area, which feels like being bitch-smacked by a fish.  You know the feeling when you're fishing and the fish comes out of the water and it's flopping everywhere and it smacks into you with all its spiny glory - that feeling but on the inside.  When I told Robert this, he said, "well that's probably just your tendon coming back together."  

The squeezing python pain?  "Oh, you just aren't elevating it enough. That's the swelling against the splint."  Like my leg is literally a sausage bursting from its casing.  

Last night there was a new sensation.  I told Robert it was feeling itchy in there too.  Having some experience with my disgusted looks, he was even more succinct than ever.  "Dead skin."  And I was like, "Dead skin what?!?"  He started to explain, "Well your leg isn't getting any air."  But I was done.  No more.  I've learned my lesson.  It's better to think there's a menagerie of creepy creatures having a nightmare party down there.

A couple big things happened yesterday that instantly lifted my mood and Robert's too.  First, I had a shower after not showering since last Tuesday.  Robert and I plotted for days the best way to do this.  And really, the best way ended up being what was going to be the most entertaining for Robert and neighbors.  That's how you know you're making a sound decision.

Robert waited until all of our neighbors were out taking walks and as a bonus, a city worker was digging up and replacing the old gas line in our yard.  Then he found the most obnoxious spray setting on our garden hose, hauled me out of the house, plopped me on a chair where I could be viewed by our entire neighborhood, wrapped up the injured leg in multiple plastic bags, and proceeded to cackle maniacally as he Jackson Pollocked me with soap and the sprayer.

The good news is I can now tolerate being around myself and we've got a good plan for the next shower.  The only difference is that we're going to do it in the dead of night.

And I also have something to do during the long hours - plotting vengeance.  Robert always says he loves my creativity.  So I'm sure whatever I cook up for him will be something he'll enjoy.  

I knew Robert was going to pick up the girls from their little vacation at their doggie daycare, but I was so exhausted after the shower I went to bed for a while.  The next thing I know there's golden retriever flying at me.  Robert said Josie flew past him when he got home and opened the door.  She went straight for me.

I'm the lump to the left. 😁

I am extremely fortunate to have a husband who is so incredibly nurturing and such a lover (he helped me take off my nail polish for the surgery and even found a walker like thing for the toilet so I could I use the bathroom independently).  But I also have this dog who went from this happy, goofy sweetheart who made it clear from the beginning that she was a baby who needed our love and protection.  Never once did she show signs of being protective or nurturing like one of our past dogs, Rose.  Even as a baby, Rose made it clear that she was there to take care of us and keep us in line.  

Suddenly, with this injury, Josie has become a total nurturer.  She has glued herself to me since she's been home and has been so incredibly gentle with my giant boo boo.  We were going to try to keep her out of the bed, but she made it very clear that wasn't happening.  I told Robert if she just happens to land on me the wrong way, we'll have one hell of a story for the emergency room.

So here I type in bed, and her butt floof is all up in my laptop as it should be.  

Margo is a different story.  She got up this morning and gave us some hardcore stares.  So Robert finally surrendered and took her to work where she can be with her beloved J and do her important shop dog duties.  I love her to infinity, but she has her own agenda!

Well, I've got some important cuddling with my Jo Pie to do next.  The most important thing on the list today.

Superfloppers

Last summer we splurged and rented someone's pool thanks to Swimply, which is kind of like Airbnb for pools.  There are a few pools on Swimply in the KC metro area that allow dogs, so that's where the splurge comes in.  Robert and I pay very little to swim about once a week at a couple different public pools, but sadly no dogs are allowed.  

Our last goldens, Rose and Ella, thought they needed to rescue us anytime we went swimming with them.  Nothing could convince them otherwise.  Unless we were sitting in a creek with them, it always turned into too much stress for everyone.  Margo and Josie, however, are completely the opposite.  In fact, if they get tired swimming, they come right to us and let us hold them while they take a break.  Yes, there were stairs and a shallow place for them to rest, but that would defeat the purpose of having humans.

After last year's experience, it was at the top of our bucket list this year, and we invited a friend and his kids to come swimming too.  Both dogs and kids were really thrilled to just be hauled around on the giant raft, and Margo and Josie were convinced the kids were going to their best friends ever.  Both kids just started swim lessons, but after about ten minutes in the pool, you would have never guessed it.  They were swimming like pros!  Did Margo and Josie ever realize that the kids were just learning how to swim though?  Nope!  They were completely oblivious.  If you ever need a dog to rescue you for any reason, these two dogs are not it!  

Roadkill Revisited

A poem of mine, Roadkill, which was published in Slippery Elm's 2019 edition, is available in their web archive. 

My golden lovelies, Rose and Ella, make an appearance in this poem. I'll never forget the memory of the poem. When I worked at a closer library branch Rose and Ella would join me on my walk to work sometimes, and I would call the taxi aka Robert whenever they became tired or on the rare mornings when they made it all the way (this was in their old lady years) . Our walks only happened when the taxi was available. We saw lots of strange things on those walks, but the "roadkill" was the strangest. I think we were all on edge as we approached it. And boy did I laugh like a maniac when we finally got a good look at it!

I giggled the entire time I discharged books that morning because of Rose and Ella's reactions to the roadkill as we approached it. When I went to lunch I quickly jotted down the first draft of the poem.

Needless to say, when I told Ella one of my poems about her had been published she just gave a big sigh and went back to sleep.

Monkey Retrievers

I think it's fair to say we've run out of ways to entertain ourselves around here. Thankfully Margo and Josie are full of ideas. 

Rose and Ella were choosy about textures. They didn't like walking on plastic or rubber and were so terrified of the ramp that led up to the self-service dog bath, we just had to lift them into the bath like the 90 pound princesses they were. Ella thought it was great fun to be lifted gently into her bath by her royal subjects. Rose flailed around like we were going to drop her at any second.

Any time Margo and Josie see a playground they nearly lose it. They want to run over every part of it, jump off every ledge, and now their enthusiasm has even given them the confidence to try the previously-dreaded slide. Margo will actually slide down the slide just like a child will. Josie will start to slide and then make a spectacular leap when she's had enough. It is one of the funniest things ever. I've been laughing too hard to take a proper video but hope to soon.

When Josie saw a child in a tree a few days ago she actually started climbing the tree! Fortunately the child thought it was hilarious and we were able to stop Josie before she got too far. 

There is no such thing as a dull day around here. 

turkey-flavored toothpaste cloud of love

Ella seems to be perking up a bit, eating a little more but only with an ungodly amount of encouragement. When she walks she's not struggling as much as she has been. We're picking up a pain pill at the vet's office today. Depending on how she responds to the pain pill we might be making a tough decision soon. But she keeps giving me a few wags and still enjoys the cuddles.

In other news I was so exhausted last night I asked Robert to take care of the dogs so I could go to bed early. I think I was asleep before 8. As I was falling asleep I felt like I was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of turkey-flavored toothpaste (one of the worst smells on the planet) and I also felt a quick flash of drool on my hand that  must have been hanging over the side of the bed. When I woke up this morning I told Robert about it. He said that after the pups went out and had their teeth brushed they came racing into the bedroom. Robert quickly blocked my side of the bed with his body and tried to get the girls to go into their kennels. Like a flash of lightning Margo slipped through his legs and came over to give a stern and exasperated sigh into my face before forgiving me (nudging my hand) and going to bed.

We've talked about how similar Margo is to Rose, but also how Margo doesn't have one mothering bone in her body (which would be appalling to Rose). Even though Margo was upset I messed up our nighttime routine, I think it's possible she also wanted to say goodnight and make sure I was in the room before she went to bed. 

sugar lumps and macaroni and cheese

About once a week I take 20 or 30 minutes to look through old pictures.  It's a necessary indulgence. I've had a great life filled with amazing people, and pictures capture an astounding wealth of memories that sustain me and keep me going.  Whether I'm going through a rocky patch or I'm simply in the mood to celebrate my life, immersing myself in my photo albums, both digital and physical, keep me afloat and fill me with joy.

I've decided to start sharing a few of these journeys with you because it's another way to stay connected to my family and friends and the world.  We can't sit down in person every week, have a cup of tea, and share memories together, but we can still find a way to connect.  

Lately, I've been poring over pictures of my first two sugar lumps, aka my golden retrievers. Bringing two baby goldens into our lives has made me think about the crazy journey I've had with Ella, who is one of my soul mates.  Currently I find the puppies to be exasperating and Robert keeps reminding me how I wanted to get rid of Ella the first two years of her life.  It pains me to admit this, but he's right.  Ella was a total jerk during her puppy phase.  She ate all of our base molding in our last house, never wanted to cuddle with me, and would push Rose out of the way to get whatever she wanted.  But we're a lot alike.  I can be a jerk too and a bit selfish sometimes.  And when I feel prickly or focused the last thing I want to do is cuddle.  Ella is still a jerk sometimes, even in her old age.  But she's also so very tolerant of the puppies and will let me kiss her face now without blowing snot on me in exasperation.  When I wake up in the mornings I lay on her dog pillow with her and curl myself around her while I pet her belly. She would have hated this two years ago but now loves it. 

This picture was taken at our old house in 2012.  I was journaling, and at the time, the dogs were allowed on the couch.  They were freshly shaved, something we don't do anymore, and very wrinkly and precious.  I am wearing a shirt that belonged to my brother, Scott, at some point.  It was bought while he and Mom were on one of the South American treks she used to make.  Those weren't my memories (I have no qualms about borrowing others) but I remember loving their stories when they returned.  I wore that shirt until it had holes in it and sadly tossed it before I started collecting shirts for a t-shirt quilt.  



When I think about Scott or Mom or Rusty I always look at an Arizona album.  The picture below from 2009 is far from perfect, but I love it for a several reasons.  First, you can clearly see the mountains behind me, which is something I associate with Tucson and Oro Valley, where my family lives. Whether you're in the drive thru at McDonalds or on a hike, you can always see the mountains.  I also love this picture because it is clearly after a rainstorm.  When I check the date of the picture I smile because it means that it was during monsoon season, which is a special time of year.  I'm also playing on the backboard with puddles everywhere. This picture confirms that crazy passion I feel for the sport.  I adored the racquet I was playing with, which was a Head and my third racquet (my first was a wooden Chris Evert and my second was a Head that a friend of my family, Bob, carved my initials in) and called it my macaroni and cheese racquet because of the color.  When I began having issues with tennis elbow a few years ago I switched to a Volkl that was supposed to be easier on the elbow.  I haven't had an issue with tennis elbow since the switch, but I'll always have a place in my heart for that macaroni and cheese racquet.  I still have this tennis skirt and wear it all the time. Apparently Adidas is a great brand.

This was taken in 2014 on a different couch.  I was trying to read and like usual, Ella just didn't care. If I sit on the floor with a stack of books right now, she will mosey on over and do exactly the same thing.  For eleven years this dog has been laying all over my books and heart.

Rosie Posie

Last Friday we lost our lovely Rose.

The sudden loss of such a positive and intregral part of our family has been devastating.  

Last Wednesday, the day after we returned from Texas, Rose threw up several times.  This wasn't too concerning because she had a tendency to do this whenever she drank too much water.  Robert was also very sick with the flu. When I woke up Thursday Robert was struggling to breathe so I rushed him to the emergency room. On the way there I realized I hadn't checked on the dogs.  I texted Rachel and she said Ella had been out to potty but couldn't get Rose to stand up.  Rose often struggled to get up because of what we thought were her hips. I dropped Robert off at the emergency room and raced home.  

I couldn't get Rose to stand up.  I've never felt so helpless in my life.  Oddly enough, when I thought of asking for help, the first person that came to mind was our introverted, very unfriendly neighbor.  Thankfully I didn't doubt myself because he helped me carry her to the car without a word. On the way to the vet I felt like I was falling apart.  I called Scott, my brother, and he talked with me and gave me strength.

On my way back to check on Robert, my chest hurt so bad I knew I was in trouble.  Thankfully Robert only had a touch of pneumonia due to complications from the flu and I was able to take him home later that day where we could both rest for a bit.  

When the vet called and told us to pick up Rose, I was so hopeful.  But she needed a sonogram, which our vet didn't have.  We spent one last evening with Rose, who grew increasingly worse.  Robert was still very ill.  I had just caught the flu myself, and we were all trying to grapple with the news that Rose was leaving us.  But I'm glad we were together.  Friday morning Robert and I took Rose to the vet where they did the sonogram of her tummy.  When we found out she had cancer and there was nothing that could be done, Robert's mom picked up Rachel from school, and we all crammed ourselves into the small examining room with Rose to say goodbye.  

I have been mired in negativity the past few days. We were so sick over the weekend I hardly remember anything except grief and pain, and the two blended into one solid lump.  Oddly enough, when I woke up this morning, I knew I was getting better because I could feel the emptiness.

But I got up.  As cheesy as it sounds, Rose wanted everyone to be happy and I've decided I'm going to fake it until I make it.  

Rose lived for the happiness of others.  She knew we loved her unconditionally and was always happy so long as we were happy.  She lived a long life, 11 1/2 years, and spent her last days on a trip where she was cuddled nonstop.  And she must have told Ella not to worry because Ella is handling her absence better than the rest of us.  And I've always trusted Ella.

Dear Rose, here's to 11 years of love, kisses, tug of war, cuddles, fountain flopping, squishy mud, swimming, walks galore, talky box places like the bank, friends aplenty, bedtime, and belly lovins'.

We will love you always, Rose.  You were such a good friend, protector, and beautiful soul.

Jason!

Robert, Rachel, Audrey, the dogs, and I just got back from visiting my brother, Jason, in Texas! Though we were iced in one day, and pretty much everything was closed for both the ice and holiday, we had a fantastic time.  We spent most of the time cuddling with the dogs.  Jason's two dachshunds are even cuter than our dogs and insist on cuddling with whoever is sitting down.

I also met Jason's brother, Bill, and he was just as awesome as I imagined him to be.  We met with the whole family for pizza the night before we left and had a wonderful time sharing stories.  

It was such a fun and relaxing trip.  

Rachel with Spanky and Cooper



Ella, Rose, and Robert had their own cuddle party going



Though we were too cold to take many pictures, Robert did snap one of Jason and me.  We look like two people who have no idea that ice is on its way.  

Even though it was cold, Robert, Rachel, and I added another state picture to our collection

a very lovely happy holiday

I just had a fantastic three days off and lovely holiday with family.  

Robert's sister, Jennifer, visited us for a couple days, and as always, we had a blast with her.  

Jennifer took this picture of Rose and Ella hanging out with her dog, Gaston.  

Rachel and Gaston did some bonding as well.

And of course there were gifts.  Jennifer gave the best gifts this year.

Most importantly, a homemade pom pom wreath I am insanely infatuated with.

She also made infused oils and extracts, a festive string of dried oranges, and a charming basket made out of plastic bags.  

Even though I decided against any embroidery gifts for this holiday because of the new gig, I decided to stitch names on stockings for everyone.  They turned out better than I expected.  And more importantly, Robert's grandma, Carolyne, complimented them.

Yesterday I FaceTimed with my family who lives in Tucson and then we bombarded my dad with a phone call.  So many voices and faces I love. Robert's mom and grandma spent most of the day with us and it was really relaxed and fun.

It was quite possibly a little too relaxed.  

birthday balloon ambassadors

Rachel celebrated her 17th birthday yesterday.  She picked an interesting place to eat, a place where they cooked an assortment of food (and one mountain of butter) in front of us.  It will not be the place I pick for my birthday dinner, but Rachel enjoyed it and the company was nice.  

From left: Robert's mom, Audrey, Robert, Robert and Rachel's grandma, Carolyne, Rachel, and me.

Naturally, Robert filled the house with balloons and made Rose and Ella official birthday balloon ambassadors.

Ella didn't mind her balloon duties until one got caught in the fan.  And even then, she was only mildly perturbed.  In the picture, Robert is decorating the box of one of Rachel's presents (a framed map of the United States that she can stick her pins in that she's been collecting from all of our trips).

Rose was happy to be a birthday balloon ambassador because she will do anything for Rachel's happiness.  Really!

Because I am a hillbilly and I know many of my blog readers are as well, I will share this wonderful picture of synchronized birthday balloon pottying with you.  Please excuse our yard (we do not have grass yet! So very hillbilly, yes!)

Carolyne's cathedral

Robert's grandma, Carolyne, is doing well.  Though it's been a slow recovery, each day there is much progress.

Yesterday, Robert texted one of many progress reports - Grandma's cathedral has been removed!

I was retrieving a book for a patron in the children's section when the message popped up on my watch.  I guffawed so loudly a child jumped away in alarm.

Yesterday I also received a phone call telling me that our float trip pictures were ready.  Though only one picture stood out, it was exactly what everyone needed to see.

Today's progress report was fairly straightforward, and Carolyne is creeping determinedly towards recovery.  Nothing but going home is going to top the relief she must have felt to get that dreaded cathedral out.  

waterlogged with happiness

Rachel, Robert, the dogs, and I just returned from a fabulous mini trip that included floating down the Niangua river and visiting with my Dad and his girlfriend, Lisa. 

Naturally we did a little thrift shopping, where I found treasure - a stamp set with both the words of animals and the animals themselves. It's missing a few pieces, but is so perfect for journaling.

Rose and Ella were sorta accepted by two of Dad and Lisa's four cats:



Everyone got their cat fix (and then some). It's pretty obvious Jake (cat) only has eyes for Lisa.



There was so much peace to be found on the river, and we're just plum waterlogged with happiness:

On the way home Rachel conked out, but Ella was happy to provide a soft place to land:



Because we used a disposable water camera, the bulk of our pictures still need to be developed.  So here's to good-ol'-fashioned waiting for pictures.  If there are any keepers I will share them with you as soon they're developed!

ready to teach my bike a lesson

Robert has been building shelves in the garage (nothing has fallen yet!) and also fancy bike hangy things.  

And Rose and Ella and I have been... Well, we've been taking it easy.  



With my hip problem on one side and a bum knee on the other, I took several days off, but am hoping that I can outwalk a couple geriatric golden retrievers here in a few days. And maybe try to stay on my bike this time.

fountain flopping

You know the humidity has officially set in when Rose and Ella's idea of a walk is to find a fountain to flop in.   

rocking chairs

There's still much decorating to do, plus the porch needs to be painted, but Robert and I splurged and bought the rockers we've always wanted.

The other morning he put one of them together and I happily claimed it and was almost late for work!

* Yes, that is the cone of shame.  Ella has an ear infection.  

Team Rachel

Robert, Rachel and I loaded up the dogs yesterday and took off on a chilly, squishy hike.  Due to recent rains we slid more than we walked, but we soaked up the early spring air and watched the dogs bound manically through the woods.  

Shortly after Rachel received her driver's license she broke one of the rules that Robert and I established, and rather than talking about it with us she clammed up.  We told her that she would lose her driving alone privileges until she was ready to talk about why she had broken one of the rules. A week went by and we wondered why she hadn't said anything.  Robert and I started dropping hints.

Another week went by and Robert's mom, Audrey, who is an important member of Team Rachel, dropped a few big hints, even directly asking her about it.  Rachel still wasn't ready to talk.  At this point Robert and I reached out to friends who are parents, and asked if we were doing the right thing by leaving this in Rachel's court, and they concurred. So we waited.  And waited.  And happily drove Rachel everywhere with these tiny thought bubbles above our smiling faces that implored, what the heck.   

Finally after almost two months, Rachel tentatively brought up the topic of driving while we were on our hike yesterday.  It took everything I had not to do a little dance.  She was initiating communication with us about something huge!  All on her own! And it was such a productive conversation!

This isn't going to be the last of tough conversations we'll have, and Rachel's probably going to break rules again, but hopefully this is a step in the right direction.  Hopefully Rachel is figuring out that Robert and I are only marginally scary, in the sense that we are boring adults with high expectations.  Hopefully she's closer to understanding that talking to us equates to more support for Team Rachel. 

Here's a bit of magic from our hike:

One of my favorite trees, Redbud, which I used in pancakes and salads growing up

A bit of bloodroot lighting up leftover winter like a candle

Moss!

As usual, the dogs greatly enjoyed the mud.  Ella is giving me the 'stop that paparazzi nonsense' look.

happy as can be

This is what I mean when I say that our house is starting to feel like home:

One dog is a pillow/place to prop homework, the other is a footrest.  And they are all happy as can be.

relaxing with the fam

Yesterday Robert, Rose, Ella and I snuck away to visit with family while Rachel had Thanksgiving with her mom and stepdad.  

We spent much of the day with my dad and his partner, Lisa, chatting and laughing.  

It was a really relaxing and much-needed visit.

Rose and dad were constant pals and though I was happy to exchange her for a couple cats (dad and Lisa have 5), we never struck a deal.

Today is all about coffee and yoga and music because this is what it's going to look like at work tomorrow:

love is in the air (and maybe other stuff too)

We officially moved back to the remodel on Saturday, and it's awesome, but also supremely chaotic.  It's been a two steps forward, one step backwards kind of thing.

For instance, Robert got the washing machine up and going so I started a load.  That's when we discovered that the dryer wasn't working.  Thank goodness Robert's mom lives across the street (I may take this back at a later time).  Sadly, one of Rachel's socks is missing so I'm hoping she doesn't notice...  And that it's not in the street somewhere.  

The dogs did a little puking on the fancy floors (which was surprisingly easy to clean up), but now they are happy and nestled in.

On another note, I had some very interesting patron interactions in the past few days.  I almost feel like some kind of divine powers have been trying to keep me distracted from all the chaos at home.

A few days ago I assisted a middle-aged patron with his dating profile.  The poor fellow had a lot of interested women and didn't really know how to respond or anything.  He was very dapper and polite and dare I say, handsome?  So hopefully I didn't help a serial killer.

I also helped a lady print a few pictures, which is nothing new.  She insisted repeatedly that the images must be 5x7, which is also nothing new. However, every time she watched me check the 5x7 box, she pulled out a tape measure from her purse and held it up the screen.  The first time she did this I tried to assure that she was going to get what she wanted without measuring, but it gave her such satisfaction to hold up the measuring tape to the monitor that I thought, "why not, if it makes her happy?" So I kept my laughter and impatience in check, and gave stern looks to those nearby who couldn't do the same.

Later I was asked by an eighty-something year-old patron if I knew of any good audiobooks he could listen to with his girlfriend. Before I had a chance to throw out any ideas he suggested Team of Rivals.  My first reaction was, "whaaa no way. That's not romantic."  And then I thought, "wait isn't that over thirty discs long?"  Apparently we were on the same page (ha a pun!), because he winked at me and said, "that oughta keep her around for awhile, don't you think?"

But the best interaction happened yesterday when a patron shyly approached the desk and asked if anyone had turned in a cell phone.  "Well it's your lucky day," I said when I found it in the lost and found.  She nodded and took the phone from me, put in the code to unlock the phone, tapped on her pictures, scrolled through, found one, looked visibly relieved to see it, and said, "thank God.  This is my cat, so this has to be my phone."