Bicycle Banzai

Picture it: 

Me riding a borrowed and geared bike pumping my almost shaved legs like pistons down a country road like a woman possessed. It was a sight to behold. The anguish on my face, the sweat on my helmeted brow, the matching orange shirt and Dunlop Volleys warning all in my way to "stand aside! Mad woman coming through". Well, you can picture it but the anguish on my face was from the God-awful seat I was sitting on. Bike was outstanding - those gears are looking mighty attractive I tell you - but the seat has to go. I am so-o-o saddle sore. My pubic bones HATE me, and those bones can be bloody spiteful man!  

Oh and on the way back that kamikaze magpie/black and white piece of flying poo came gunning for my orange shirt. Scared the crap outta me. BUT I BOUGHT THE SHIRT TO RIDE IN AND I AM GOING TO WEAR IT (until I go on that run again, then I am changing it).
Our fearless leader and torture expert has suggested we get fit for a 100km charity ride next October...ooh, I don't know. I would have to shave my legs AND armpits... at the same time. Would my bright orange Dunlop Volleys cope with the mileage? Are there magpies on this run? Do they supply skinny choc milkshakes at the pit stops? So much to consider, so much to weigh up. Stay tuned. Who knows.
I do love my bike riding though.  Great company, great exercise and beautiful country.  We saw lots of koalas and their babies on this run, beautiful flowers in bloom in the paddocks and happy and healthy cattle and horses.  It does not get any better.

Sydney Australia Rocks

 

The Lovely Husband and I spent about five days in Sydney this year and had a blast.  We both used to live there before moving to the country and every now and then we need a city fix.  Sydney has it all.

Deadly Red Treadly

I have recently joined a social bicycle riding club.  Well, there is four of us now anyway.  I ride with my friend about every fortnight on weekends but this will be every week while she is at work. 

I have a "ladies" bike, no gears, wicker basket and a nice comfy seat.  It is red so it goes faster.  I bought it from a department store in a box and we put it together.

I am riding with real women who ride real bikes with real gears and those slinky riding jerseys.  I wear my pink Dunlop Volleys, leggings and over sized man's shirt.  Man I look hot!!  (Not).

I think the woman who takes us is gobsmacked - no gears?  What is that about?  You can see the lack of comprehension in her bulging eyes as she stares at the foreign body that is my deadly red treadly.  It does have hand brakes...

Anyway, we had our ride.  They took it quite slow until I enquired if this was their normal pace...it was so-o-o slow.  I think they thought my bike was handicapped.   Once the pace picked up a bit it was lovely.  Chatting, riding, chatting, dodging swooping, nest protecting magpies and spying mother koalas in the road side trees.  Beautiful.  I did ask for a couple of drinks stops, we red bike riders get thirsty.

On the way back I started to fatigue.  We red bike riders tire when riding against the wind but I made it back and was amazed to find out that we had ridden a whole 19km!!  Woohoo, I am so impressed with myself.  I survived the ride with NO gears.

I shall ride again with these real women.  Maybe they will convert me to gears, maybe not.  But I shall ride the deadly red treadly with a comfy seat with pride, puffing and panting and peddling for all I am worth.

Dry Ground

This was our paddocks one week ago...desperately needing rain.

Holy Hail Storm Batman!

Only small stones but they shredded the mango tree as you can see...

Bee Gees & Housework

The Bee Gees, Their Greatest Hits, Disc 2:  Cleaning the house with this music this morning I was a sight to see.

Striding down my newly vacuumed hall in my 80s ski jacket and unruly mop of hair to STAYIN’ ALIVE…no beard though.

Purple tracksuit clad bum swaying to the song MORE THAN A WOMAN as I sing loudly into the toilet bowl.

Reaching up to the shower rose with a pained expression on my face as I belt out the chorus of HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE.

Sweeping the detritus from my laundry floor and bopping around the sweeper to YOU WIN AGAIN.

And finally collapsing into my camping recliner in the sun of the back veranda and singing with weakening energy to GUILTY with Barbara Streisand and Bazza.  I sat through EMOTION and HEARTBREAKER before I decided enough was enough.

All the while my 19 year old son, who has been warned of the housework concert, is clamped under his doona, hoodie stretched over his head and most probably grimacing to my dulcet tones.

If you gotta’ do the housework, and eventually you do, it is not a bad way to do it.

Just love their stuff, talented little Vegemites that they be.

Brain Injury Anniversary - Whoa 7 years?

That anniversary snuck up on me a tad, wow it has been 7 years since I did the head plant from the back of my horse.  7 years of highs and lows, but mostly highs. 

I think I can safely assume that I will not make a full recovery any time soon.  I still have minor short term memory loss, concentration issues and just a LOT OF FATIGUE!  Not that it bothers me to have to sleep for an hour an a half every day, go to bed at 9.30 each night or suffer the consequences and heaven forbid if I spend too much time concentrating on anything because my brain goes onto Confusion Mode.  Aaah but it is all good really.  I have learnt patience, sometimes inner peace and acceptance.  I am not complaining, just making fun of it.

Funny story:  I met someone the other night who I recognised and they me but neither of us spoke for a few minutes until the penny dropped.  She is another brain injured soul and we laughed when we realised our mutual quandary.  This Fellow Headcase is only 2.5 years into the recovery - huh amateur!  And, me thinks is still fighting the affects of the difficulties associated with her injury, unfortunately.  I first talked with her when I was asked to meet her approximately 12 months after her injury by my ex-brain injury counsellor and I do remember thinking that she is not taking this lying down (so to speak).  I also fought my injury but in the end you have to accept what is and I feel she is not quite there yet.  We women are stubborn creatures.  I also feel that she looks at me and my "limitations" and dreads the thought of being me in years to come. 

But me and my limitations are doing alright.  I am very lucky to be employed by a large company that will take any hours I can offer (maximum 7 hours/week).  I have a loving family and the best of friends.  I am surrounding by beautiful countryside and have gorgeous pets.  I am not dead basically.  If you are not dead, you have to live and I believe I am not to be pitied as I saw in this Fellow Headcase's eyes. Good Gravy, give me hell, tease me senseless - I can take it, but do not pity me and look down on me, that I will not accept.

Our Garden

 

Dress Sense?

 

 

My teenagers and their friends on a typical night out.

A Conversation with My Teenage Son

Can I have the car today mum? 
What time do you need it till?  I am going to Photography tonight and it finishes at 9.
Well I am hanging with friends today and then we are going to the movies.  It doesn't finish till 9.15.
Good, you can pick me up.
I was kinda' hoping to hang out with my mates for a while afterwards.
Well then I need the car.  You will have to make other arrangements.
(Some thought and contemplation ensues).
Why don't you think about it for a while.
(10 minutes later).
OK I will take the car and pick you up.
Right then, thanks. 
I am leaving at about 9 this morning.
Great.  Can you take the recyclables in please?
But it is raining!
Yeah.
Have you put them in the car?
(Jaw drops).  No. I am in my slippers.  You put them in the car.
But I am taking them in.
Yeah, in my car.
But I pay $20 petrol money every week.
(Look at him)
OK, I will.  (Look of defeat and disappointment).
(I walk away, smiling at the amusement of this whole conversation).  "Have you put them in the car?"  HUH!

Damaged Greyhound



 This poor greyhound has had a bad week.  Our dogs are inside at night while we watch TV and every now and then they go out for a bark and a wee.  One night recently Layla came back in looking a wee bit subdued (which for a greyhound is nothing new) but she was even more so.  Then I noticed the blood dripping on the floor.  Ooh 'eck I says, or something like that anyway.  I think she had had a run in with a possum or something.  Under her left eye was about a 1cm cut but under her right eye, and I mean just underneath her right eye, there was a cut for the full length of her eye!  She had some skin off her muzzle as well but compared to the other injuries they did not matter.

I was a veterinary nurse in the 80s for about four years so out comes the First Aid Kit, cotton balls, home made saline and drag my teen son out of bed (he was the only other person home) and we convened in the laundry (aka ER).  I had to clean out the wounds, apply pressure to stop bleeding and then bandage to hold her face together.  She could barely see because of my work and she tried to remove said bandage too.  I made up a bucket for her head and she went to bed that night looking mighty funky.

The next day I took her to the vet for stitches and the bucket had to stay on for 10 days until I removed these stitches and she is now free.  Her modelling days are over though.

Layla no longer chooses to go out at night for a bark and a wee.  She stays in and minds the fort.  The middle picture is her waiting patiently for the cat to finish drinking before she has a turn.  Such a polite Bucket Head.

Oil Can Art

 

Skewers are not Fattening Apparently...

Who would of thought that a packet of skewers would need a "Nutritional Information" window.  I find this quite funny, but then I am a bit funny too.

25th Wedding Anniversary

The Lovely Husband and I are about to hit this milestone, this month.  Woohoo! We made it.  What a ride!

We celebrated yesterday by going for a relaxed walk along the beach, there were children playing and screaming in the shallows, dogs running after thrown sticks, beautiful sunshine, rolling waves, it was all so perfect (it is autumn here in Oz).  On our way back I took some photos with my phone, we took the exit and stood at the lookout at the top of the sand dunes, we kissed, so romantic. 

It was the wrong exit.  Our car was no where to be seen.

Back on the beach, the sun is shining, dogs playing etc etc (look out for the dog poos) and the next exit was in fact the right one this time.  Went for a drive to a local and usually relaxed seaside town, some big event on and the traffic was gridlocked.  OK, we turned around and drove straight to the fancy schmancy cafe in the countryside we had booked for this auspicious occasion.

Table for two, lovely outlook, amazing menu, oh I feel like a wine.  I drink preservative free wine which is never on any menu but oh look it is on the fancy schmancy menu.  Oh yeah, how groovy is that?  Never heard of this one but it is a chardonnay, we can share that.  What is that number 220 next to it....is that?  No-o-o, it can't be.  Is that 220 number in dollars?  Nice waitress confirms that that is in fact $220.  Holy Crap!  I'll drink water thanks.  What about a cocktail...hmmm, very schmancy again, and I now know what the numbers are and for $15 for a teeny tiny glass of brightly coloured booze I will drink water thanks.  25 years or not I have my limits.  The Lovely Husband went all out and ordered sparkling water!  Phew, what a wild man.  I drank tap water with my single prawn entree wrapped in beautiful flavours and a leaf!  I drank tap water with my pork belly done in the most beautiful marinade and tender to boot.  The tap water was particularly nice with the biscotti I had for dessert, mmmm, yum.

The arrangement for that night was for the offspring to cook dinner which they did.  Crumbed lamb cutlets, chips and store bought shredded salad with sachet of dressing.  A glass of wine from our fridge and the company of our beautiful children, aaah, it does not get better than that.  Dessert was a supermarket apple pie with a carton of custard.

On our anniversary day we will have apricot chicken.  The Lovely Husband wooed me with that one all those years ago. 

The simple pleasures in life do not have to be fancy or schmancy or cost $220.  They can be as simple as a French Onion Soup sachet, a tin of apricot nectar and chicken pieces, baked and served with rice.

You may read this and think, hmmm, these country hicks are far from sophisticated but I say who gives a sloppy cow pat!  We have made 25 years and we still have a lot of years to go, many more crumbed lamb cutlets, more servings of apricot chicken but no where on this earth will I ever have a bottle of $220 chardonnay.

Evil Thomas The Tank Engine

 

Wonky Egg for 2012

This chook must have a bum like a rose bud!

Cute Rat Alert!

How cute is this little rodent eh?

The Dynamic Daughter's pet rat, Chai enjoying some cuddly time.

Men Don't Put the Seat Down!

I was fooling around with night photography and I came up with this slightly quirky political statement.  The male symbol is supposed to face to the right but this one is pointing down to the obvious cause of its appearance.  Interpret it as you wish but I am quite happy with my experiment with a slow shutter speed and a book light on a long arm.  What fun, what a result, what is that smell?

The P Plater

Phew! He Drives!
Despite popular opinion teenagers are OK.  My Young Negotiator (18 1/2 yo) has just gotten his driver's licence and as every parent knows this is an anxious time for us.  Will they crash and die some horrible death, get booked and have to be driven everywhere again, break down in the middle of the night and call us up for advice/help/solace?  But we parents have to let go, tough on me but do-able.  In fact it has been better than I thought.

On the day he passed his driving test I had a dinner and show to go to that night.  Kate Miller-Heidke is EXCELLENT by the way.  Bloody fantastic concert, but I digress.  Dinner in a noisy restaurant and then a music concert is a big deal for my brain injured noggin, causing fatigue and unsteadiness on feet because of sensory overload so driving is a no-no for me in this situation.  I asked my newly appointed driver-son to drop me off and pick me up later which he readily agreed to.  We have an extra teen in house at moment, his friend the Country Lad, and both boys escorted me to town in my car and dropped me off.  I held each lad by the shoulder, looked straight into their eyes and told them sternly "DO NOT MUCK AROUND IN THE CAR".  This would be the Young Negotiator's first drive without a responsible adult.  I know right?

Dinner was fantastic but expensive, concert was FANTASTIC, did I mention that?  Kate Miller-Heidke is one talented Vegemite, and funny to boot.  My mobile was on silent but twice during the concert it 'rang' vibrated.  I ignored it, I was out man!  The show finished quite late (for me) and as pre-arranged I texted the Driver-son to pick me up.  No reply.  Great, he has his music up too loud.  Oh shame mother, shut your mouth, he and the Country Lad were already there waiting for me.  It was he who rang me twice during the show to see if I was ready to be picked up.  I was thrilled to see them alive and undamaged.

In the car I was relegated to the back seat, the driving team up front were 'men' and I was the passenger.  My worries of them fooling around while driving were also squashed.  They were working as a team.  The Country Lad is still on his Learner's permit and he was the Driver-Son's extra eyes.  He pointed out to the Driver-Son that he was "still in neutral you idiot" when the car failed to reverse out of the parking spot.  Mind you the Country Lad also had a small torch in hand to shine on the T-bar gear stick because the light showing you which gear you are in has been dead for years.

They made me laugh when they complained to me that the car did not have a CD player in it (the car is too old for such modern technology) and there is no where to plug in an MP3. 

The two teens worked together on driving carefully but we also talked and laughed in the car.  I am so impressed with them.  I know the Driver-Son will make mistakes, have (hopefully) small bingles and still need our guidance in the car but we all needed that at their age.  Phew, the initial stages have been low stress but I am sure there will be exceptions to this.  There are three drivers in our family and only two cars so there will be juggling and compromise from all of us.  It is a thrill to have our Young Negotiator driving.  Unfortunately, we have to start again with the Dynamic Daughter in a couple of months but that is life.

Have I mentioned to you how BLOODY FANTASTIC Kate Miller-Heidke was?

A Proud Proud Mother

Have I bragged enough about my offspring?  Nope, got more of it.

The Dynamic Daughter is in an important year at high school.  Year 11 involves lots of work towards the HSC and she is attacking it like a woman possessed.  She also has her out-of-school drama lessons.  That amazing teenager has also taken on a fundraising effort for her trip, with a group of teens, to a developing country where they will trek for days, do volunteer work in a village and play tourist at the end.  A huge undertaking for these young people as they have to make the decisions, source their accommodation, food and transport in-country.  It is a team and character building challenge which is not meant to be easy or simple.  And they will be helping those less fortunate then themselves.  Wow!  I am in awe.  It is expensive and the costs have to be met by fundraising/own pocket and she has taken this on with gusto.

I am certain I was not mature or confident enough to take this sort of thing on at her age.  I believe the youth of today are amazing.

The Dynamic Daughter and her friend the Curly Headed Young Man, who is also going, ran a trivia night recently in our little country community hall and what a success it was.  I was not allowed to help.  The Old Cheese (my mother) and I were allowed to cook and supply food but the two teens completely ran it themselves.  All teams had excellent fun and at the end everyone helped pack up the hall and clean it.  The community spirit was outstanding.  They raised a gross total of $730! 

My team were not allowed to win and so with great restraint we came nearly last.  The things we do for our children.

Just to add to the Dynamic Daughter's workload she has also become a youth ambassador for the local performing arts industry. 

And...she wants to organise her 16th birthday party.  Phew, I am exhausted.  Oh, that's right it is not about me (damn!). 

We had an excellent parent teacher interview night recently and so all is going swimmingly.  I am mildly concerned (as are a couple of her teachers) that she will crash and burn with all this pressure upon her.  She has had issues with anxiety and depression in the past and she is cyclothymic which means she can have extreme highs and lows but we talk with her about it and try our best to keep communications open.  Well, as open as a teenager wants to be with their parents anyway.  Hopefully with maturity comes better ways of dealing with these pressures and as parents, all we can do is be there for our babies........err sorry, teenagers.  Slipped into smother mode there.

The Dynamic Daughter and the Curly Haired Young Man are holding a high tea soon, another fundraiser.  I offered to come and do the washing up and was met with stone cold silence (crickets chirping).  Okay-y-y.  Only if you want I plead.  Silence.  Hmmm, is the thought of something so elegant and ladylike impossible to imagine with me in the room?   Aaaahhh!  I am an uncouth slob obviously.

Have I told you how proud I am?  Oh, alright.  Good luck Dynamic Daughter!

Pothole Art

Some artistically bent, community minded citizen is going around painting our many potholes with bright coloured paints.  It is actually quite useful because as a driver you cannot always see the ruddy great holes until WHAM!

Dead Bee

Pippis on the Sand

Coupla' Chicks Scheming

Don't these girls look like they're planning something.  Does it remind you of the animated movie Chicken Run?
My two bantam Wyandottes were sharing the love in their clucky state.

Beachside Humpy

Check out this beautifully made humpy.  It is on the coast and on public land.  Most amazingly is a sign at the base of the structure asking for respect and shock of shocks, no one has vandalised the humpy in any way.  I love it.  On the day I photographed it an elderly couple were sitting in its shelter on camp chairs enjoying the view.  Beautiful.

Malaysian Vegemite?

The Lovely Husband and I ate out at a Malaysian restaurant recently, it was beautiful and authentic but I could not help but photograph this part of the menu.  Check out the ingredients in the Mama Prawns.  What the...? 

Toad Bites Dog

Bloody Roger!  This dog is approximately 9 years old.  He has lived with the poisonous cane toad hopping around our back yard for all his life and ignored them.  Until last night.  At bed time.  My bed time.  He and I were in the back yard last night, I was hanging out washing just before going to bed.  He was biting a cane toad.  Oh and you know what?  Poison tastes bloody horrible in your mouth apparently. 

We rang the vet.  He told us to hose his mouth out for 10 minutes, rub his gums and inner mouth area and keep him calm.  Do you know many dogs who can keep calm while you hose out their mouth?  Probably more than I imagine.  But a staffy?  But Roger?  It took three of us.  The Young Negotiator was there to stop him from backing out had hold of the little nugget body.  The Dynamic Daughter was on hose duty.  (Don't wash the poison down his throat either).  I was on washing and rinsing duty.  Apparently the poison sticks to surfaces and begins transferring its toxin so that is why you need to rub his tongue, gums, teeth, mouth and not get bitten for your trouble. 

Truth be told he was pretty reasonable considering.  We must have removed all the poison because he stopped frothing and shaking his head.  We were all pretty wet and smelly (you know, wet dog smell) at the end of it.  I don't know whether he will bite a toad again because how much he associates that attack with everything that happened afterwards is any body's guess.  I am hoping not.  Bloody dog.  OK, I am happy he is fine. 

There is nothing like slipping into freshly laundered sheets with pillow and doona fresh from being in the sun all day and having that lovely and unique Eau de Wet Dog come between you and your loved one.

Brain Goes to Mush

OK, I told you I stuffed up my colonoscopy appointment month, and I accused my mobile of not charging when I didn't have the plug turned on, well... there is more.  Sigh.  My brain has become mashed peas with the occasional floatie piece of soggy white bread (no substance).  Let me list them for you.

1. I am allowed 200MB data a month on my mobile plan.  I usually don't even get close to that usage but this month I was panicking.  Oh my God, after 3 days into the new month my data usage was soaring.  I switched everything off, apps, updates...what had I done?  I had no idea.  When it got over 245 I was going to lose the plot, such as it is.  Then, I realised it was counting in KB not MB.  Derr sister!  When it got to 1MB I had to laugh.
2. Bought a shopping basket to attach to the carry rack of my push bike.  Oh yeah, she was a beauty, simple to install and would carry my stuff.  Only, I decided to install it when my poor brain was already strained from too many scathingly brilliant ideas racing through it.  First go, I attached the four screws and washers to the to mounting plates beneath the basket.  Fiddly but not overtaxing.  Easy.  Except when I was finished, the basket was not, in fact, attached to the carry rack.  Oh the mounting plates were attached alright but they were completely separate from the rack.  Yep I could see the problem straight away because I am that clever.  But Mrs Fixit/Never Say Die/Too Proud to Ask for Help tried again.  Second time I incorporated the rack and it was definitely attached this time but the brackets were facing the wrong direction.  Sigh.  Third time I had the basket attached to the rack, the brackets in the right direction and voila!  So proud.  Eventually.
3. Soul Sister and I went bike riding on a designated bike track in another town recently.  It was a long, long ride and because we talk, talk, talk and laugh, laugh, laugh and carry on like pork chops I was exhausted by the time we finished.  As we were installing the bikes onto my bike rack Soul Sister realised I was having trouble finding my words.  A sure sign that my brain was in another dimension.  I was a bit wobbly on my feet so she asked me gently if she could do the driving.  Oh yeah, you know what, that is not a bad idea.  Huh!  Utter brilliance.  Soul Sister was moving into survival mode obviously, she wanted to arrive home in one piece.  Fussy.

There are probably more but I can't remember them at this point in time.  Hmmph.  Probably cannot completely blame the brain injury, although it is one lifelong excuse to be used at will.  It could be early onset senility, some strange disease brought on by a mosquito bite, a miniature space ship moving around in the brain, early signs of menopause or just the fact that I am a ruddy great goose.  No comments from Twisted Sister thank you.  I know which you would say.

From a Dog's Perspective

ROGER: Staffordshire bull Terrier, mad as an axe, ADHD, cyclonic.

LAYLA: Retired and rescued greyhound.  Calm, quiet and always hungry.

Visitors

Roger:  Was that... is it... oh yes it was a car door slamming.  LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME.  I love you, I don't know who you are yet but I love you.

Layla:  Is someone here?  Excitement.  Maybe they will have food.  Maybe they will love me.  I always need love.

Roger:  It's the grandparents.  I LOVE the grandparents.  Grandad loves me!  Grandma too but with restrictions.  I want you both I WANT I WANT I WANT.  What the... the Pack Leader Mum has me by the collar but I will pull.  Maybe she will let go.  She is talking to me but all I hear is blah blah blah Roger! Those legs, I. must. lick. those. legs.  Grandad's legs are long and skinny and hairy.  His legs play with me and chase me.

Layla:  Grandparents.  I love them.  Do they have food?  Have they touched food lately?  Will they still smell of food?  Wet nose in their hands will tell me.

In The House

Roger:  The kitchen is off limits when food is being prepared or when the family are eating.  This is so hard!  I break the rules every day and every day I am sent out but one day they might forget and not notice me.  The cat can come and go as she pleases and she does this to show off.  I don't care.  I am bigger than her. 
If Pack Leader Mum is at the computer too long I bark at her.  If she swears or sighs or is upset I talk to her and come to comfort her.

Layla:  The kitchen is off limits when food is being prepared or when the family are eating.  If I walk very slowly and quietly, don't let my nails click on the floor I can bypass this rule.  The floor can contain smidgens of morsels of edible stuff.  The bin is my mecca.  I must get to the bin.
Wherever Pack Leader Mum is I am.  She often forgets things and goes up and down the hall or in and out of the house many times but I must stay with her.  I used to be lonely and isolated and I will never again be lonely and isolated. 

A Walk

Roger:  Smells are everywhere.  Here, there, all over the place.  Oh I gotta' pee.  I am in a big hurry.  You never know when the world might end or we have to go back home.  Quick quick quick.  Oh I gotta' pee.  Jackpot!  Calf poo.  I gotta' eat it before Layla finds it.  Scoff, choke, hack, scoff.  Oh I gotta' pee.  Oh yeah, carcass of rodent.  Mmmm, roll in that, roll roll roll.  I smell great. 

Oh Pack Leader Mum is calling home.  Quick quick quick.

Layla:  Freedom, run run run.  Smells everywhere.  Where is that rabbit?  Squat and pee.  RABBIT RABBIT RABBIT rabbit rabbit rabbit.... gone.  Ooh calf poo.  Eat it before Roger.  Where is that rabbit?  Smells everywhere.  Oh there is Pack Leader Mum at the top of the hill.  She loves me.  We are too far apart.  Run run run.  Puff puff puff.  Where is that rabbit?  Oh baby, calf placenta!  Roll roll roll.  I smell great!

Pack Leader Mum is calling home.  Gotta' go.  Do not want to lose my family.

An Outing

Roger:  Car trip!  Puff puff puff I am so excited and we haven't left home yet.  Ooh ooh ooh someone I don't know walking past the car.  I LOVE YOU!
On leash in open air and I want to sniff sniff sniff.  Oh I gotta' pee.  Person... I LOVE YOU.  I want to lick your legs.  Running away?  How exciting, me too.  Dog... I really want to know you before I decide whether to attack or play.  Pulling pulling pulling.  The lead may give way, I might be able to chase all those people/dogs/inanimate objects.  Oh I gotta' pee.

Layla:  Car trip?  Oh OK.  Mixed feelings of excitement and trepidation.  Pack Leader Mum and Dad drive round bends and my lo-o-ong legs have to surf them in a confined space.  Roger's excitement is catchy. 
On leash in open air and I stick close to my Pack Leader.  They might try and separate from me.  Dog... if I don't look at them maybe they will ignore me.  Eww they are sniffing me.  Stand tall and think of something else.  Food.  No time to sniff.  Got to focus on staying with Pack Leader.  Person... stay cool, don't do anything.  Oh a pat, lovely, I will take that.  I gotta' crap right here and right now.

Bed Time

Roger:  You are running late Pack Leader.  It is time, I am restless.  Are we going out yet?  Oh yay, it's time for my bedtime biscuit.  Big, hard biscuit.  Chained to my kennel first and then biscuit.  Chomp, crack, choke, cough, chomp.  Mmmm. Bed time with the mozzies.

Layla:  Are you sure it is that time?  What if I lie here just a bit longer.  Ooh biscuit, I forgot I was hungry.  You go first, there are toads out here.  Chained to my bed in shed and then biscuit.  Very gentle when I am given the biscuit.  Biscuit very hard.  Pack Leader leaves and I lie down and eat.  I want to be in the house with the family.  I am chained now because I wrecked the door to my shed. I stress when I am separated from the family.  But I know I will see them in the morning.  I will not be lonely or isolated again.  They even give me breakfast so I know I won't starve.

I'm So-o-o-o Embarrassed

This will make you laugh.  It is embarrassing but it is funny.  In my previous post I talked about starving, dying etc.  Well, it is not strictly true anymore.  Now remember that I have a brain injury (that old chestnut) and am approaching the age of menopause and am a busy mum with lots on my plate, so to speak, pun intended.  Let's not consider the fact that I might be a goose, a dimwit, a total lame brain.  Let's just leave the name calling aside and blame my age or brain or motherhood.

This afternoon I phoned the day surgery about my colonoscopy tomorrow to confirm a time as you do.  Luckily it was before I took the first Drano solution to empty out my digestive tract.  It appears I read the date wrong and my procedure is not until the beginning of next month.  Oops.  All that complaining, all that suffering, all that clear liquid and it was for naught.  And, I gotta' do it again next month.  Wow.

But what really has me tossing down the chocolate biscuits is when I phoned the Lovely Husband (and I use the term loosely) to tell him of my mistake he turns around and proceeds to share with his workmates, all of them.  Oh how funny it was, he thought.  Then, I say, then, he tells them about how about two weeks ago I was bitching and complaining about my relatively new mobile phone not working, not charging and I was going to deal with the stupid phone company, the stupid contract I was locked in, the stupid charger.  Except when I went to unplug it, I saw that I had not actually turned it on at the power point.  Duhh!  Needless to say, the phone is fine, the phone company unharmed and the charger functioning normally.  Unlike my head.  Sigh.

Must go eat now, I have some serious catching up to do.  It will not consist of jelly, clear soup or yet more water.

I'm Star-r-r-rving

OK, I am about to share more than I would usually but I need the distraction.  Just warning you.

Tomorrow I am having a colonoscopy.  Yep, one of those lovelies.  So yesterday I had to not eat fruit, fibre, veggies, red meat etc.  I could have low fat dairy and lean white meat.  That's alright.  I can cope. 

Today, I am allowed no solids, no milk products, no food!  I am allowed clear liquids eg. clear juices, jelly, strained chicken noodle soup.  That sort of thing.  Holy Crap! (Get it?)  Food is so-o-o important to me.  This is killing me.  (Slight exaggeration, only slight).

This afternoon I have to consume some stuff, some dosed water, some chemical that will empty my bowel like a good dose of salmonella poisoning, like an Enyo cloth for the inside, like a fire hose has been shoved down my throat and will straighten out my small and large intestines.  (Again, I don't exaggerate greatly).  Holy, holy CRAP!

Help. 

Tomorrow, I have to have nothing four hours before procedure.  I think I have said it all.  My life is HELL.  Hell I tell you.  Of course, this comes from a spoilt woman who considers food to be the staple of her life (funny about that). 

I will survive.  I am a survivor.  I didn't say I wasn't a whinger.  I also didn't say I don't feel sorry for myself.  I certainly would never say I enjoy starving to death.  But I do like a good exaggeration.

Greyhound Run

Imagine the theme music for the old 6 million dollar man TV show

Our Layla Greyhound is a failed racer.  She was washed up at the age of 3.  When we first got her she did not like walking on the grass very much.  In the paddocks she would follow the cattle paths and avoid "nature" at all costs.  Now at the age of 9 she is a happy farm dog who dislikes walking on the road.  Paddocks are her preference and rabbits are her focus.

We have had a lot of rain recently and the dogs have not had the walks they usually get.  Cabin fever has affected us all but none more than Roger our Cyclone Staffy.  So, in a recent break in the weather I took both dogs for a run in the paddock.  Layla was seen to run off into the long grass after what I assume was a rabbit.  She met met at the top of the hill, puffed but happy.  On the way down the hill she and I saw another rabbit.  Only this time there was sheep fencing between her and her quarry.  Still, it made for a fun chase up and down said fence.  Before we reached the foot of the hill she took chase yet again only this time the grass was longer and thicker in patches.  My brindle greyhound was seen doing Bambi like romping in and out of the long grass, ears erect and eyes alert.  She leaped around for some time and was very entertaining.  Just a note here, she has not managed to catch any rabbits, hence her probable failure on the race track.

Back at the house Layla looked like heart attack material.  She was so puffed she was almost wheezing.  Her poor old chest was heaving air into her lungs and her tongue was about as wide as it could get.  But, for a rescue dog who was brought up in a cage and was not used to grass, this is fantastic to see her so happy in her half dead state.  What a way to go eh?

The Unemployed Teenager

The Young Negotiator is 18 and out of school for good.  He knows not what he wants to do with his life.  For now he needs a job, a paying job so he can live, spend, have fun and think about his future.  I have noticed the teenagers in this predicament all think they will get that job and be done with it.  We do not live near a big city.  There are many, many teenagers who left school and are looking for work, untrained and inexperienced teenagers.  Their confidence was admirable but now reality is sinking in and there are many, many unemployed teenagers.

 My answer?  Volunteer!  The Young Negotiator was told if he did not find paying work he would be doing volunteer work for charity.  He has his casual job with a large chain supermarket but the shifts are few and far between.  But three days a week he has work, two days in one Opportunity Shop and one day in another.  It took some encouragement (pushing) but it is working quite well.  In the two day a week job he is actually being trained in retail and they are very happy with him and his attitude.  They often get young people 'volunteering' because they want to continue to receive govt. benefits or for community service and their attitude can be less than enthusiastic apparently.  The Supervisors think him marvellous for volunteering (he failed to mention his pushy mother) and his confidence is building.  Even the Young Negotiator can see the benefits now.  In the one day a week Op Shop he is one of three men to go out in the furniture truck picking up and delivering second hand furniture, TVs (the older, far heavier type) and various donated goods.

The Young Negotiator is an Extreme Book Worm, Computer Gaming Freak, Card Playing Jockey.  He does not, in normal circumstances, move furniture/TVs.  This experience has been an eye opener for the skin and bones we call our son.

First Week:
"I really think they need to update their OH & S information Mum.  That stuff is heavy!" 
I remain outwardly neutral.  Inwardly I giggle at the thought of my poor young man doing hard work.

Second Week:
"I'm exhausted.  I don't know if I will keep this up.  There are some people working there who don't want to be there.  It is a bit depressing"
Aaah, welcome to the work force sunshine.

Third Week:
"I still don't like it but I think I will stick with it for the moment"
What's that?  A bit of resilience coming through?

Fourth Week:
"Look at my hands, I have calluses!!!"
Mmmm, I had them as a child from riding my bike all day.

The Young Negotiator has decided he does not want to work in the furniture moving industry.

He is learning and even admits, after direct questioning (the only way to get information), that it is a good thing.  He can definitely see the benefits and has improved his resume and his references with this experience.

I love that kid and he cracks me up but the Young Negotiator will survive the work force with a new appreciation of how lucky he is, how to get along with all kinds of people and that experience matters and calluses are not the end of the world as we know it.

Fish Oil for Dogs

I have discovered something that calms my cyclone-on-legs staffy, Roger.  Quite by accident but still, a discovery all the same. 
I take 3g fish oil capsules daily (for my brain apparently), odourless and easy.  Recently I accidentally purchased a large container of fish oil capsules that were not odourless.  Blechhh! Unable to cope I decided to give them to Roger, who has skin issues.  I had been giving him 1500mg/day for two weeks and he seemed fine (at home he is quite well behaved and calm) and then being due for a vaccination I took him to the vet.  Unfortunately it was a very hot day so, instead of being relegated to the back of the station wagon he got to travel on the back seat in air conditioned comfort.  He was very quiet and well behaved, a little strange but not incredible. 
At the vet, Roger is normally quite cyclonic/mad/loud/strong, all in good humour of course.  He was not on this occasion.  He was calm and well behaved, very strange.  In the examination he was happy but again well behaved.  His temperature, heart rate, everything was normal and he had his vaccination.  Normally his temp is slightly raised (from his excitement) and probably his heart rate.   Are you sure he is OK? I say to the vet.

While waiting to pay my million dollars for his consultation he again was calm and well behaved.  Normally if other dogs come in he goes into excitement overdrive and barks, growls, pulls my shoulder from its socket and generally makes a nuisance of himself.  When the nurse who served me realised he was present she was aghast.  Is Roger here?  She says while leaning over the counter to confirm this amazing fact.

On the trip home he again lay quietly on the back seat and had little urinary accidents on our back seat.  OK, I am thinking he has a urinary tract infection.  He is definitely not himself and he never has accidents.


At home he again had a little accident in the house, he has not done that since he was a puppy, but I realised he was unaware of the urine dribbling from his flaccid 'Little Roger'. 

It took me a couple of hours to work it out.  It probably would have occurred to me earlier if I had upped my own fish oil dosage to that of a small elephant but still, it did eventually occur to me that it was the fish oil.  He was so relaxed.  He was focused and did what he was told at the vet - away from his home environment - an absolute miracle.
I did have to take him off the high dose because his little accidents smelled strongly of fish oil and that is just gross.

They say fish oil is good for kids with ADHD and it is recommended for them to focus etc.  Well, I can confirm that it does that for insane staffy dogs.
So I have just commenced him on a 500mg daily dose.  I will take him away from home in two weeks time and see if he has taken this stuff and converted it to normality. 

Ahh, I hear you say, he is who he is.  He is cyclonic but he is lovable and happy.  That is his personality and you should not mess with it.  But I say, WAS IT YOU TOOK HIM TO PUPPY PRE-SCHOOL?  He was by far the most intimidating puppy, naughtiest puppy, the one most likely to be attacked by frightened little fluff balls.  WAS IT YOU TOOK HIM TO GROUP DOGGY TRAINING?  He drove me to ends of my wits.  He was so excited and strong and loud and uncontrollable and, and and... I was physically exhausted at the end of each session and so gave that away as a lost cause.  He can sit and behave at home beautifully but take him away from his own environment or have visitors and he turns into a doggy Mr Hyde, albeit friendlier.

So old Roger is being medicated.  I am messing with his head... but in a good way.  At least I am trying to make him more socially acceptable.  If it does not work then I will accept it.  But if it does then WEEHARRRRR!! I will be able to take him out in public, he won't want to kill dogs at the beach, frighten little old ladies into their wheelie walker, take skin off unsuspecting innocent children when he jumps on them to tell them he loves them.  Ahhh the possibilities...