tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10195922764408468662024-03-12T19:40:05.696-04:00Brit Knitter<em>Knit on, with confidence and hope, through all crises</em> <br />
Elizabeth Zimmerman <br />
1910-1999Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.comBlogger490125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-2371056276951445222012-07-27T18:00:00.000-04:002012-07-27T18:00:05.526-04:00Settling in NicelyAnnie and Molly have been in New Jersey for almost 48 hours now, and they are settling in nicely. Here is a shot of their first meeting with their big sister/doggie mama, Emma.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7656471348/" title="Emma, Annie, Molly by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma, Annie, Molly" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8004/7656471348_4ff2fef9a3_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Emma isn't sure if they are cats or rabbits or what, but she knows they can't possibly be dogs...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7656471192/" title="Emma and Annie by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma and Annie" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8432/7656471192_a0b4a51bea_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Here she is saying "What is this thing, and why is it sniffing my butt?"<br />
<br />
Emma is pretty much ignoring them right now, which is OK. She will come to love them, I'm sure. She has been through a rough couple of months, and it will take some time, but we will all get there. In the meantime, Annie has claimed the biggest, comfiest doggie bed...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7656471582/" title="Annie by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Annie" height="180" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7254/7656471582_0760ae1c7c_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
...but Molly isn't content with a doggie bed. She has to be on the over-stuffed chair with all the pillows that she can push around until she gets them in just the perfect position.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7656470486/" title="Molly by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Molly" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8007/7656470486_60a2960b9e_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
One of their favorite things is shopping, as you can see from this photo taken yesterday at PetSmart.<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7656470870/" title="Annie and Molly by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Annie and Molly" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8028/7656470870_94fbf0a5e1_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Molly was bark-bark-barking when she was walking around the store, but she quieted right down when I put them in the cart. She likes to ride in style.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7656471030/" title="Annie & Molly by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Annie & Molly" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8152/7656471030_08f3950837_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Don't they look like stuffed toys? <br />
<br />
These little munchkins are so precious, and have already brought a lot
of joy to a house that was so full of grief and sadness over the recent
loss of Tara and Cooper. They will be heading down to Fortescue this weekend for their first taste of the beach! Welcome to New Jersey, little girls!Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-26482078501305024952012-07-24T18:00:00.000-04:002012-07-24T18:00:05.022-04:00In which Emma has puppies...The past couple of weeks, or really months, have been so very difficult. In addition to coping with the loss of Tara and Cooper, we have been trying to keep Emma's spirits up. Not an easy task, as she misses her siblings terribly. She is sleeping better at night, but when she is left alone, she will howl. Not a barking kind of howl. It's a soft, coyote-like, kind of howl that is totally heartbreaking to hear.<br />
<br />
Take a look at her in this picture. She was "helping" me piece together a quilt. She soon had enough and decided to lay down on the work in progress. She always has this sad, defeated look on her face now. It breaks my heart to see her like this. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7638441190/" title="Emma on the quilt pieces by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma on the quilt pieces" height="180" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7265/7638441190_5a0f275953_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
My sister and I have both been looking at possible siblings for Emma. I am still very raw inside, and wouldn't think of an addition if it weren't for Emma. She apparently needs the company of other dogs. Humans can only offer so much comfort, as we all very well know. <br />
<br />
<br />
Anyway, rescue is the only option for us, so my sister has been scouring Brittany rescue sites like <a href="http://www.americanbrittanyrescue.org/" target="_blank">American Brittany Rescue</a>, <a href="http://www.nebrittanyrescue.org/" target="_blank">New England Brittany Rescue</a> and <a href="http://nbran.org/" target="_blank">National Brittany Rescue and Adoption Network</a>. <br />
We took Emma to "meet and greet" an available Brittany, but the meeting did not go well. It was one week after losing Cooper, two weeks after losing Tara, and I think it was just too soon for all of us. Emma positioned herself in between the other Brittany and us, and snapped if she got too close.<br />
<br />
<br />
We started to think that a puppy or a smaller dog would be better, so I have been setting my sights on another breed altogether. I have always, always, always loved the look of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cavalier_King_Charles_Spaniel" target="_blank">Cavalier King Charles Spaniel</a>.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7638652338/" title="z cavs1 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="z cavs1" height="156" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8015/7638652338_67dfe8cc1d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
I have shied away from the breed due to their many health concerns, but there are no guarantees with anything in life. Look at my sweet Tara for an example of that...<br />
<br />
After looking at a couple of Cavalier rescue sites, I filled out an application with <a href="http://www.cavalierrescueusa.org/" target="_blank">Cavalier Rescue USA</a>. To make a long story short (or at least less long), there is a pair of Cavalier girls about three hours from here who are in need of a loving home. Their owner passed away, his daughter couldn't keep the dogs and placed them with Cavalier Rescue USA. They were adopted out to a loving couple last month, but the wife has developed some very serious health concerns, and they are no longer able to keep the dogs.<br />
<br />
Meet <a href="http://www.cavalierrescueusa.org/component/k2/item/797-annie-and-molly-in-charlotte-nc.html" target="_blank">Annie and Molly</a>:<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7638441020/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Molly and Annie by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Molly and Annie" height="141" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8146/7638441020_1b4c018e19_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Those are the names given to them by their original owner, so I don't want to change them. I have no idea which dog is Molly and which is Annie. They are approximately 5 years old, and Molly is perfectly healthy, but Annie is deaf and has a grade 4 heart murmur. ( I can handle this, right?) My dad and I will be driving down to Maryland tomorrow afternoon to pick up these cute little girls. Don't they look like Brittany puppies???<br />
<br />
I have a really good feeling about this. I am positive that Emma will love and care for these two as if they were her own puppies. Let the healing begin...Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-13849882429105747072012-07-12T18:00:00.000-04:002012-07-12T18:00:02.276-04:00Coping with loss.I want to thank everyone for your comments and support both here and on Facebook. I have never gone through losing two of these precious souls so close together. Two dogs in two weeks. It's rough. Really, really, rough, but we are trying to keep everything as normal as possible for Emma. Unfortunately, Emma is extremely intelligent, and one of the curses of having an intelligent dog is that she sees through all of the false bravado and forced cheer. I swear she is more "human" than some humans I know.<br />
<br />
Anyway, one of Emma's issues right now is sleeping at night. She doesn't want to do it. At least, not in either my bedroom or my sister's. Normally she would come to bed with me for an hour or two, then jump down and go into my sister's bedroom for the rest of the night. (She likes to spread the love, you know?) Since losing her siblings, she won't sleep in either bedroom. She wants to sleep in the great room, but not alone. No sir-eee. Someone has to sleep out there with her, or she will bark. She will bark, bark, bark, and then bark some more. Then nobody gets any sleep. Needless to say, my sister and I have been taking turns sleeping on the sofa. Problem solved.<br />
<br />
Another challenge for Emma is being left alone. It's not an option right now. She will howl at the door whenever she is left alone in the house. Not a big surprise, as she has always had another dog or two to keep her company. Our solution? Don't ever leave her alone in the house. There is the small issue of my sister and I both having jobs, so we are getting over that hurdle by Emma going to work with my sister.<br />
<br />
Here is Emma just lounging around when she really should be doing some filing.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7557540390/" title="Emma 7-12-12 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma 7-12-12" height="177" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8160/7557540390_2ccbeb3fee_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
Emma is learning how to use the telephone. As long as someone holds it for her, that is.<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7557540498/" title="Emma 7-12-12 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma 7-12-12" height="180" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7256/7557540498_3f4a27e7f6_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Beware of dogs popping their heads up from under computer desks.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7557540324/" title="Emma 7-12-12 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma 7-12-12" height="147" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7118/7557540324_93321e8f97_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Emma can just...about...see...over...the...counter. We need to see someone about lowering these countertops...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7557540790/" title="Emma 7-12-12 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma 7-12-12" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8001/7557540790_50b8caecf7_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
Recycle? Of course we recycle here. Anything edible goes into Emma. Everything else goes into the recycle bin.<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7557540634/" title="Emma 7-12-12 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Emma 7-12-12" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8024/7557540634_45d3e6cf84_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />Of course, this situation can't go on forever. Eventually, the summer will end and my sister's school will be filled with kids again. While that's not a problem for Emma since she absolutely loves kids, there are a couple of kids in the school who have severe allergies. So, along with the no-peanut-butter-allowed-in-the-building rule, there is also a no-animal-with-fur-allowed-in-the-building rule. ::sigh::<br />
<br />
I realize that so far we have been using short-term solutions. The long term solution would be to get a brother or sister for Emma. I'm having a hard time with that right now, and am nowhere near ready to get another dog. It's too hard. I know that they give so much more joy than the heartache that losing them brings, but having that heartache so fresh, from losing TWO of these beautiful souls... I'm just not ready. I can't even think about it right now.<br />
<br />
That said, I <i>have</i> been thinking about it. If it wasn't for Emma's issues, I wouldn't consider it, but Emma needs a friend. She needs a brother or sister who can give her what us humans simply can't. I have been looking on the <a href="http://www.americanbrittanyrescue.org/" target="_blank">American Brittany Rescue website</a> and there are so many dogs out there in need of homes... Emma needs a sibling, and there are dogs in need of a home. Any way you do the math, how selfish would I be to say no to another dog?Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-63414210290268919362012-07-07T17:42:00.000-04:002012-07-07T17:42:33.098-04:00And then there was one...It hardly seems possible, and I'm still in shock, but it's true. Cooper is gone. Emma is all alone now. She has been grieving for Tara, and now she has lost her brother, too. Cooper has--had been having asthma-like problems for months now. He had xrays and bloodwork in December, and had been on a couple of different meds until we found the combination that worked for him. He has--had been stable, only having episodes when he was excited or scared, like during a thunderstorm. This morning he was fine, ate his breakfast, got into his usual mischief, then all of a sudden he couldn't get enough air. We tried to calm him down, but nothing helped. We rushed him to the WonderVet. He gave him a couple of shots, put him on oxygen, then took xrays. His lungs were worse. Much worse. End-stage-disease worse. Despite everything the vet could do, every breath was a struggle. For the second time in two weeks, we made the hardest decision in the world. But also for the second time in two weeks, there was no decision to be made. We could not allow him to suffer. I can still hear his gasping struggles to breathe. I will hear them until I die. <br />
<br />
Cooper on the day we found him, June 19, 2008. He was 9 years old at the time.<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6390664649/" title="Tara & Cooper by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><br />
</a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2677040568/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCF0684 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCF0684" height="221" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3221/2677040568_a0b03964b6_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Cooper helping with the dishes, and breaking the dishwasher door in the process.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/3299887707/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCF1657 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCF1657" height="180" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3623/3299887707_aaaedb88a5_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Cooper helping mommy knit.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/3188411210/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCF1428 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCF1428" height="180" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3490/3188411210_91b3923b1b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Cooper at mommy's work.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/4796989153/" title="2010_07130025 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="2010_07130025" height="180" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4136/4796989153_ece3cf2ab5_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
Cooper enjoying being an inside dog after a lifetime of being outside<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5979101774/" title="Loopie Coopie by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Loopie Coopie" height="180" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6121/5979101774_0ff9993379_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
Cooper, my boy, my little man.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/3402943770/" title="2009_03310007 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="2009_03310007" height="180" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3537/3402943770_4054718df5_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
Four years with Cooper was not long enough. No matter how long they are with us, we never have these beautiful souls long enough.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-73624520638997990122012-06-27T20:46:00.000-04:002012-06-27T20:47:20.472-04:00My Sweet TaraTara is gone. She is now playing with Scarlett, Katie, Mellie, Scupper, Sam and Sam II. Her battle with <a href="http://www.vetmed.wsu.edu/deptsOncology/owners/lsa.aspx" target="_blank">Lymphosarcoma</a> was short, just shy of 12 weeks, but she was a fighter. Her case was atypical, and there were no guarantees when we started chemo, but we had to give it a shot. After trying three different protocols, the oncologist took her off meds last Tuesday. She has been on "comfort care" for a week. Last night, or really early this morning, she was struggling to breathe, and could barely stand on her own. This morning, we made the hardest decision, but really there was no decision to be made at all. We were not going to have her suffer. She was too good for that.<br />
<br />
Everyone has been so supportive through this, and I feel fortunate to have so many wonderful people in my life. The words of encouragement here on the blog and on Facebook are truly what got me through some of the roughest days. My whole family has been wonderful, from going to appointments with me, letting Emma and Cooper out on the days that Tara had chemo and I would be away from home for most of the day, to just being there when I needed them the most.<br />
<br />
My work has been wonderful, allowing me to work from home when I couldn't leave Tara, approving vacation days no-questions-asked, and my coworkers picking up the slack the days I wasn't at work. I even got a new boss in the middle of all of this, and I wasn't there until the afternoon on her first day of work because of one of Tara's treatments. How lucky am I to work for a place that understands that pets aren't just pets, they are so much more than that?<br />
<br />
OK, I'm really blubbering now, so I will just share some of my favorite pictures of my sweet girl and then go to bed. <br />
<br />
Tara the first day we brought her home from the <a href="http://www.americanbrittanyrescue.org/" target="_blank">American Brittany Rescue</a> transport. Look how scrawny she was! <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2471115305/" title="Taraonchair by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Taraonchair" height="150" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2262/2471115305_dcb9531747_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
When she first came here, she didn't know what toys were, but she learned pretty quickly!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2281601247/" title="100_1564 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="100_1564" height="180" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3251/2281601247_5facdfd516_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
She liked to help around the house, from cleaning out the cabinet where the trash and recycling bins are kept...<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2281210245/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Tara in trash by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Tara in trash" height="180" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2096/2281210245_da2543386a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
...to helping with the dishes.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2282512500/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="100_2402 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="100_2402" height="180" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2236/2282512500_f940255b5d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
She was fashionable...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2282485096/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="100_2121 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="100_2121" height="180" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2030/2282485096_6c37f54dc9_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/4030516408/" title="2009_10200029 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><br /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
...refined (eating off of a fork)...<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2488171032/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSCF0453 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="DSCF0453" height="180" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3075/2488171032_bb1387276d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
...and loved. Loved so very much.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2281994692/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Happy Tara by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="Happy Tara" height="240" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2334/2281994692_b496730c6b_m.jpg" width="206" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I am
positive that she is in heaven right now, because if there is a heaven,
the worst dog in the world would be more deserving of a place there than
the best human.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-79044821124224096852012-06-14T18:00:00.000-04:002012-06-14T18:00:08.363-04:00Ups and DownsIt has been a month full of ups and downs. Literally. One day Tara would be covered with lumps...<br />
<br />
<img alt="WP_000714" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_5_0_3_1339695447599_1108" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8001/7187106459_754f271b72_m.jpg" width="240" /><br />
...and after a treatment at <a href="http://www.rbvh.net/" target="_blank">Red Bank Veterinary Hospital</a>, they would be gone.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7232/7372335830_4c75b8e822_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="WP_000691" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_5_0_3_1339695447599_1100" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7232/7372335830_4c75b8e822_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Now if only they would STAY gone. Everyone following on Facebook knows that Tara is now on her third protocol. The first one worked great, but only for 4-6 days at a time. By the time her weekly appointment with the oncologist rolled around, the lesions were creeping back. They kept coming back faster and more numerous as the weeks went by, so Tara was switched to a second protocol. That was last Wednesday. Things looked good on Thursday, but by Friday the lumps returned. Over the weekend, they kept growing, and more and more kept coming. Clearly protocol 2 wasn't working. Tara went back to Red Bank on Tuesday, and the oncologist put her on yet another protocol. It's Thursday now, and the lumps are getting smaller, but not at the rapid pace that they shrunk up before. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe this time they will slowly shrink up and go away and stay away. Maybe the third time is the charm???<br />
<br />
On another matter, totally unrelated to Tara, (who am I kidding, everything I think about and everything I do is 100% related to Tara), remember those posts I did a while ago about getting out of debt? You know, how I took a second job, and I cut up all my credit cards and vowed never to go into debt again? Funny thing about that... It's not gonna happen. I cash flowed the first month of Tara's treatment from my emergency fund (after all, what could possibly be more of an emergency than a sick dog, right?) but that well quickly ran dry, and guess who opened up a credit card?<br />
<br />
It's not a terrible kind of credit card, though. It's called "<a href="http://www.carecredit.com/" target="_blank">Care Credit</a>" and it's only for medical or dental expenses, for you <i>and</i> your pets. I hate posting about this and including a link, but I thought I would mention it in case anyone else finds themselves in a similar situation.<br />
<br />
So, back to Tara. I don't want anyone to think that I'm allowing Tara to be used as a canine pincushion or a lab rat. I hate the fact that she is getting poison in her system every week. I hate the fact that that there isn't one treatment that works for every dog. I hate the fact that Tara's case is atypical, which just adds another element of surprise. (These kinds of surprises I could do without!) That's a lot of hate. But, as long as Tara is tolerating the chemo well with no (or minimal) side effects, we are going to give her every shot (no pun intended) to go into remission.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, Tara spends her days hanging out with her brother and sister...<br />
<img alt="Cooper, Tara, Emma" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_5_0_3_1339697778053_1062" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6037/7015246025_241cd59c50_m.jpg" width="240" /><br />
...taking naps...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5320/7187106321_747f4dd823_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="WP_000679" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_5_0_3_1339695447599_1027" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5320/7187106321_747f4dd823_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
...letting the ceiling fan blow her belly hair...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5196/7372335622_98c686da16_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="WP_000682" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_5_0_3_1339695447599_1063" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5196/7372335622_98c686da16_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
...and modeling mommy's knitting.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7239/7372335690_28de431972_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="WP_000656" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_5_0_3_1339695447599_1087" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7239/7372335690_28de431972_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Tara thanks everyone for their continued prayers and healing vibes. She says she can feel your support, and it just makes her want to fight all that much harder. Keep 'em coming!Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-15238109877056160312012-05-06T08:21:00.000-04:002012-05-06T08:21:31.932-04:00What a Difference a Day Makes!If I didn't see it with my own eyes, feel it with my own hands, I wouldn't believe it. Tara woke up this morning (after a good night's sleep), and the tumors are smaller. I'm not crazy. Maybe I am crazy, but the lumps really ARE smaller. Some of the little ones are gone. The bigger ones that were about the size of a goose egg are smaller. They have maybe decreased by half. One dose of chemo, and the lumps are going away. I can't tell you how thrilled I am. I had to share right away since I know so many people are following her progress and sending prayers, vibes and healing thoughts her way. We feel all of that support, and are truly appreciative. It makes a huge difference.<br />
<br />
I've tried to get photos, but it's hard with her long fluffy hair. The best I can do is show you this one from May 1st. She is eating a french fry after one of her vet appointments, and you can see a couple of lumps on the top of her head. That was five days ago, and they were just getting larger every day.<br />
<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1018">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1017"><a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7133386853/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1016"><img alt="WP_000618" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1015" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7202/7133386853_b9b8132770_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<br />
Here is a picture of her this morning. Can you see the lumps? Nope! They are so small that you can't tell they're there unless you feel her head. She looks a little grumpy in the photo, but that's just because I've been following her all around and rubbing her all over, keeping her from getting her morning nap.<br />
<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1056">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1055"><a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7002017190/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1054"><img alt="Tara 5-6-2012 One day after first chemo" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1336305370226_1053" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7080/7002017190_da6fd1dd58_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
She is tolerating the chemo really well, slept great, and had a hearty breakfast. One of the lumps in her mouth was bleeding quite a bit yesterday whenever she would lay on her right side, so her "hearty breakfast" was all soft foods, but she enjoyed it just the same.<br />
<br />
I don't have any false expectations, and know that each week she will get a different chemo drug, and she may have side effects. Her best case prognosis is 18 months, but they will be 18 <i>quality </i>months. It would have been a few weeks, at the most, without chemo, and I have to believe they would have been rough weeks for her. Right now, every day with her is a blessing.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-89611402729803248102012-05-05T18:03:00.000-04:002012-05-05T18:04:03.372-04:00Too Numerous To CountThis past week feels like it has been at least a month long. This past month seems like a year, or a decade. I feel like I have been walking through a fog, with occasional episodes of a reality so freaking unreal. I've got to tell you, the fog is looking pretty good right about now.<br />
<br />
Four days ago we got the detailed report on Tara's tumor. You know, the ONE tumor she had on April 9th. The ONE tumor that was removed on April 10th. The ONE tumor that, one week later was joined by six others. The six tumors, that just one more week later were joined by 20+ others. And then this morning, I found out that if there are more than 50 tumors on your dog, the doctor lists it as "too numerous to count." Yes, indeedy. <br />
<br />
Two days ago we saw an Oncologist in Malvern, PA. Wonderful facility, but they kindly said that they don't take cases as extensive as Tara's, and referred us to Red Bank Veterinary Hospital in Tinton Falls, NJ. That same day we took Tara to an Holistic vet. Somebody asked me what holistic is, and I don't know what the official definition is, and I'm too tired to make the effort to link to wikipedia, but it's all natural remedies, with herbs, massage, acupuncture, and stuff like that. I learned a lot about the body and blood, and got some really good suggestions on changes to make to their dog food recipe. I also got a couple of supplements to aid in digestion and restore energy. The holistic vet also highly recommended Red Bank Veterinary Hospital. Her exact words were, "run, don't walk, to an oncologist." Not something you want to hear. <br />
<br />
That brings us to this morning. We left at 7:00am for our 9:40am appointment with the head of Oncology at <a href="http://rbvh.reachlocal.com/?scid=1842146&kw=12487912&pub_cr_id=14540340809" target="_blank">Red Bank Veterinary Hospital</a>. (By the way, if anyone is keeping track, that's seven visits to four different vet offices in 4 weeks.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="thumb">
<span class="photo_container pc_m"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6999962658/" title="RBVH"><img alt="RBVH" border="0" class="pc_img" height="180" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7100/6999962658_b31b8da97f_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span>
</div>
<br />
I have to tell you that I was immediately impressed with the facility.
Bright, airy, immaculate, well thought out. You have got to go to the link above and click on "virtual tour." Really, really impressive. Every staff member I dealt
with was kind and compassionate, even though I had been up all night
(and looked it) and couldn't stop crying from the moment I got there. There was something so very final about this appointment. This was our last hope, and it is incredibly terrifying to take your sweet little girl through this door:<br />
<br />
<div class="thumb">
<span class="photo_container pc_m"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7146050481/" title="WP_000635"><img alt="WP_000635" border="0" class="pc_img" height="180" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8015/7146050481_abe16e2599_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span>
</div>
<br />
The doctor was so good with Tara, and kindly did not comment on the fact that I was a blubbering idiot. He was incredibly calming, he took his time with us, and answered every question. Even the stupid ones. In a nutshell, we learned that Tara's cancer is atypical. Lymphomas usually appear in
the lymph nodes (around the neck, in the groin area, etc.) and then go to the internal organs. Tara's cancer is sub-cutaneous,
under the skin, and is over her whole body, but ONLY directly under the
skin. No organ involvement. That's a good thing. It is also extremely aggressive. Remember the "too numerous to count" comment? That's a bad thing.<br />
<br />
Typical lymphomas have a 75-80% remission rate after chemo. That's good. With Tara, he said all bets are off, and would estimate a 50-50 chance
of remission. That's either good or bad, depending on the whole is the glass half full or half empty kind of thing. Apparently dogs have only about
10-15% chance of having side effects from the chemo, as opposed to 90%
chance in humans. If this was a typical lymphoma, we could expect an 80%
reduction in the lumps in the first week. Again, Tara is not typical,
so no guarantees.<br />
<br />
With all that in mind, we elected to begin chemo. With
such a low chance of side effects, we had to go for the 50-50 chance.
She goes back next Saturday to be evaluated, have more blood work done, and round
two of chemo.<br />
<br />
It is wrong for me to hope that since the tumors appeared so
quickly, they might leave just as quickly? Maybe I'm not hopeful. Maybe it's wishful. More than likely it's delusional, but let me have my little fantasy, OK?<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I am sitting here watching her. Watching, watching, watching.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6999962726/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="WP_000640"><img alt="WP_000640" border="0" class="pc_img" height="180" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7238/6999962726_242e937f08_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Is she breathing too fast? Too slow? Does she look thirsty? When did she pee last? Are those lumps any smaller yet? Less numerous???<br />
<div class="thumb">
<span class="photo_container pc_m"></span>
</div>Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-43136607829134003302012-05-01T18:11:00.001-04:002012-05-01T18:11:55.411-04:00Burgers and Fries!Thanks to everyone for your kind and supportive comments to yesterday's post. Tara would really appreciate them, if she could read. Now the hugs and belly scratches from everyone...that's a language she understands. She says keep them coming! I appreciate the good thoughts, healing vibes and prayers, too.<br />
<br />
Tara had a fun time at the vet today. She got to visit all the the vet techs, she saw her nanny, and she even got a massage from Dr. Bill. Truth be told, he was just checking out how many lumps have popped up the the last 7 days, but Tara thought it was a massage, so we're sticking with that. The decision was made not to remove any of the lumps. There is no reason to put her through another surgery at this point. Dr. Bill just did a needle biopsy of some of the larger lumps, took some X-rays, and then came back in the room with some choice expletives. Gotta love him.<br />
<br />
Tara didn't care. She got to see her friends at the office, and then she got burgers <i>and</i> fries on the way home. The burgers she saved to share with her brother and sister at home, but the fries? Nope. She ate them right down.<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1032">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1031"><a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7133386753/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1030"><img alt="WP_000623" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1029" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7084/7133386753_1832f81061_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<br />
Watch those fingers, mommy!<br />
<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1024">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1023"><a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7133386853/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1022"><img alt="WP_000618" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1021" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7202/7133386853_b9b8132770_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<br />
Emma and Cooper were not pleased that Tara got to go for a ride without them, but all was forgiven when she came back smelling like the Vee-Eee-Tee. The burgers she brought home helped, too.<br />
<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1069">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1068"><a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7133386707/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1067"><img alt="WP_000625" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335908321770_1066" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7131/7133386707_91fb0fc92b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
What's next? In addition to the holistic vet appointment on Thursday
afternoon, we have a 9am appointment with an oncologist in Malvern, PA.
Unfortunately, we already know where that facility is. <a href="http://britknitter.blogspot.com/2007/02/dry-run-and-high-hopes.html" target="_blank">We took sweet Mellie there in 2007.</a><br />
<br />
Oncology and Holistic in the same day? Sounds like we don't know what we are doing and are trying to cover all bases, doesn't it?<br />
<br />
That's just about right.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-41019922155056631902012-04-30T18:00:00.000-04:002012-04-30T18:00:10.128-04:00More Burgers in Tara's Future...<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1021">
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1045">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044">Contrary to my last two posts, I have found that I am not at all brave. A brave person doesn't want to crawl right back into bed every morning so she doesn't have to face the day. A brave person isn't on the verge of tears every second of the day. A brave person wouldn't feel as though her whole world was caving in when she finds a new lump on her dog.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044">The additional testing came back on Tara's tumor, and it is not good. It has spread to the lymphatic system, but I didn't need the report to know that. There are new lumps appearing every day. Every freakin' day. Her head, neck, legs, back, sides...everywhere. You know that feeling of being punched in the gut and having all of the wind knocked out of you? That's what it's like with each new lump.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044">Last Tuesday when Tara had her stitches removed (from her surgery on April 10) we showed the vet the half dozen lumps that had appeared at that time. Tomorrow he will be taking one (or more) of them off to be biopsied, just to confirm what we already know to be true. It has spread. Like wildfire.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044">Thursday we will be taking her to a holistic veterinarian. At this point I kind of feel like it's closing the barn door after the horse has run off, but it can't hurt. Plus, Tara really loves to go for rides in the car, and she knows she gets a burger after every appointment! Here she is after getting her stitches out last week.</span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7277/6983221002_6521e09aa0_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="V__F4D3" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1042" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7277/6983221002_6521e09aa0_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"><br /></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"><br /></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"><br /></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"><br /></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044">Nom, nom, nom!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044">The only good thing about this whole situation is that Tara feels perfectly fine. She is acting normal, eating and "eliminating" normally, playing with her toys, running around the yard, and generally being the sweetest dog in the whole wide world. Don't get me wrong, this whole thing sucks, but at least she has no idea it sucks.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044"></span><br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1044">It's my goal to keep it that way...</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7129306131/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1019" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335814852256_1020"></span></div>Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-2841973786210070052012-04-22T15:44:00.000-04:002012-04-22T15:45:05.860-04:00In Which I Become Brave, Part 2<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1043"></span></div>
When last we heard from our (allegedly) brave blogger, she was about to embark on an epic journey across the country. Well, maybe not "epic", and not exactly "across the country". Still, it was from New Jersey, through the <i>whole state</i> of Pennsylvania (which is a pretty wide state, by the way), and well into Ohio. Yes, I do know how pathetic that sounds, but I've never been that far west! Yes, I know how pathetic that sounds, too.<br />
<br />
Moving right along... The plan to leave on Monday was scrapped, and new plans were made to leave at 9:00 on Tuesday morning. That would still give us a full day on Wednesday for me to help my friend unpack, return the rental car, and be on the train at 12:25am on Thursday. <a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6951027098/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1096" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="WP_000601" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1095" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7116/6951027098_79c48b68ca_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1043">I packed my things late Monday night, and had everything ready to go. Dad would pick me up and take me to my friend's house in Cherry Hill (about an hour away) and we would get the cats in their carriers and be on our way. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
But alas, that was not to be. My friend calls at 1:00am to say she is not feeling well and can't possibly leave on Tuesday. OK. Plans were made to leave Wednesday morning. I would be at her house by 7:00am, we would gather all the cats and be on the road at 9:00am. Sharp. </div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<br />
Wednesday morning, dad picks me up at 6:00, we make good time and get to Cherry Hill a little before 7:00. There are no signs of movement in or around my friend's house. I knock on the door and she comes to the door. At this point, I am seeing this whole thing through dad's eyes. There are boxes and packing material all over the house, empty cat carriers in the hallway, and my friend comes to the door in her bathrobe. I look at dad, he looks at me, and I tell him everything will be fine, it's under control. He doesn't believe me for a second. He gives me a hug, promises to pick me up at the train station the next day, and against his better judgement, he leaves.</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<br /></div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
Our plan was to be on the road by 9:00, so I enter the house with thoughts catching cats and loading them in carriers. I find out that first we have to finish packing. FINISH PACKING!!!! OK, calm down. How long can that take? I find out that her plan was to be on the road at 10:00. OK, that's just an hour later. We should still get to her house in Ohio by 7:00pm, allowing for a couple of stops for gas, etc. 10:00 comes and goes. 11:00 comes and goes. She is packing, and I am moving boxes into two pods that are still in her driveway. The pods are scheduled to be picked up at noon. We surely have to be on the road by then. Surely not. The pod men come and go, and we are still packing and loading the two cars. </div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<br /></div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
At this point, I ask, delicately, if we shouldn't be catching cats and getting on the road. You have to understand that my friend has such a good heart, and is truly a wonderful person, but I am beginning to see that what I thought was a mild case of separation anxiety (along with her normal crazy) is out of control. I tell her that no matter what, we have to be on the road by 1:00. That would get us there by 8:30 if we don't stop for gas or have to pee. (Not exactly realistic, but I am trying to make the best of a bad situation.) That would give me 3 hours in Ohio to help her unpack the essentials and get the cats acclimated to their surroundings before having to leave to get to the train station.</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<br /></div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
Are we on the road by 1:00? No. We have a terrible time catching the cats, in which much blood was shed. Human blood, not kitty blood, although I have to admit I was tempted... We finally had 8 cats in crates, at least I think it was 8, and then two get free. Turns out we had the cages upside down and they got out through the big holes that are supposed to be at the bottom of the crate under a tray. I sat on the front porch and could feel the tears starting. My friend says, "Maybe today isn't a good day to go, after all." I point out that for me it was the last day I could possibly go. I have to get the 12:25am train on Thursday to be back in Philly the next afternoon. I work on Friday, and have got to be back. I also can't afford to reschedule the trip for another week and take more time off work. For me, it was Ohio or bust. I said I would drive the rental SUV which was packed to the ceiling, literally, and whatever cats she wanted me to take. I would drop them off at her sister's house in Ohio, and her sister could take me to the train station.</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7185/6951027464_0b8423231a_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="WP_000603" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1041" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7185/6951027464_0b8423231a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>So that's when I became brave. At 2:45 on Wednesday afternoon, I pulled away from her house, and headed to Ohio. By myself. Not counting the wailing cats in the back seat, of course. To let you know the enormity of this undertaking, I do not drive over the Walt Whitman Bridge, and I certainly do not drive on the Schuylkill Expressway. Have never done it, and never will. Heck, there's a reason why people call it the <i>Sure-Kill</i> Expressway. However, to get to the PA Turnpike, I drove over the Walt Whitman Bridge <i>and </i>the Schuylkill Expressway. (How brave am I?)<br />
<br />
I was doing fine, concentrating on listening to the GPS, getting through the traffic, and not missing an exit, but when I finally got on the Turnpike and the mechanical GPS voice said "Continue on Route 76 (the PA Turnpike) for 298 miles" I broke down. After the PA Turnpike, I still had to drive on the Ohio Turnpike for well over 100 miles. I thought there was no way I could possibly do this alone. Again, not counting the angry, wailing cats in the back seat.<br />
<br />
Turns out, I could do it alone. Although, I was on the phone with my sister or parents every hour (hand's free, of course) so I wasn't really alone. Then my friend's sister, Judy, called, and assured me that she would get me to the train station in time. So even though I was alone in the car (except for some really, really pissed cats) I had a whole support network making sure everything was OK. Some might say my family is over protective, to be so concerned about a 49 year old daughter driving to Ohio. I prefer to say my family loves me.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I only made two very quick stops for gas (where I also pumped gas for the first time, by the way! Yay, me!), and made it to Ohio, without mishap, at 10:30pm. We will overlook the fact that I arrived at the wrong house and knocked on a complete stranger's door at 10:30 at night. People in Ohio are really, really friendly, by the way, even very late at night. After finding the right house, I finally met Judy, her husband and her best friend. They all welcomed me like a long lost friend.<br />
<br />
I followed them to my friend's new house, where we set up litter boxes, cat food and bowls of water, and I unpacked cat beds. They we let the cats out of their kitty prisons, and we left for the train station. Judy and her friend Peggy insisted on accompanying me to the train station and waiting until I was safely on board. I kept telling them they could leave me, but they insisted. I'm glad, too, because the train station was in a dodgy section of a small town in the middle of the night. Also the train station was unmanned, and the building was really, really nasty. We all agreed that is was a perfect spot for a murder.<br />
<br />
Eventually three more people arrived to board the train, but they wouldn't have been any help in an attempted murder. It was one older woman wearing sandals, and a couple who had to be at least 100 years old. And the man was blind. No help at all. Plus the train was over an hour late. Could things have gotten any worse? Yes, we could have been murdered, but we weren't, and we made it safely onto the train.<br />
<br />
<a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6951027416/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1226" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="WP_000605" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1225" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7216/6951027416_a1e22fc337_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>The train trip home was uneventful, and I made it to Pittsburgh in plenty of time to catch the connecting train to Philly. I was exhausted, but had so much caffeine the day before that there was no way I could fall asleep.<br />
<br />
In honor of my new-found bravery, I had a Greek Salad on the train. It was delicious! I even ate the stuff that I usually discard. Instead of eating just the lettuce and the tomatoes and tossing the rest of the add-ons, I ate the black olives and feta cheese. First time ever. You might point out that there are also onions and mini pepper like things in the salad, also, but no, I didn't eat them. Eat onions? Unidentified peppers? That's just crazy talk!<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1228">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1227"></span></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
The train eventually made it's way into 30th Street Station in Philadelphia. I have always told dad that, while it's good to see him at any time, I was never so happy to see him as when he came back from the pharmacy after picking up my prescription for pain killers after my back surgery. I was so happy and relieved to see <s>the prescription</s> er, him. He now topped that day. Both mom and dad were at the train station to pick me up. This is the only picture I got...</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1098">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1097"></span></div>
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1075">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1074"><a class="rapidnofollow" data-track="photo-click" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6951027236/in/photostream" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1073"><img alt="WP_000608" border="0" class="pc_img" data-thumbdata="" height="180" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1072" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7182/6951027236_c08a5907a9_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1145">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1144"></span></div>
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
...but I think it's my new favorite picture of them.<br />
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1063">
<span class="photo_container pc_m" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1062"></span></div>
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>
<div class="thumb" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335114389122_1044">
</div>Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-91402977552943257162012-04-21T09:54:00.000-04:002012-04-21T13:35:44.127-04:00In Which I Become Brave...Well, it's been less than a month (barely) since my last post, so I guess I'm getting better at blogging??? Probably not. I've just been so busy, and quickie updates on Facebook are much easier. Haven't found me on Facebook? <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1138518454" target=" ">Here I am.</a> I am making up for the absence of posts with this very, very long one, so settle in... <br />
Those of you who follow me on Facebook already know the worst. Ten days ago I found a lump on my sweet little Tara. <br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6951026964/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="WP_000588 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="WP_000588" height="166" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5035/6951026964_3b2eda30f2_m.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It wasn't the normal fatty tumor that lots of female dogs get. It was large (about the size of a half dollar), round, hard and flat. I immediately thought the worst, of course. I called the vet right away and they said to bring her right in. As soon as WonderVet saw it, he said it had to come off and to bring her in the next day. (Love my WonderVet!)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6951027146/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="WP_000602 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img alt="WP_000602" height="180" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7062/6951027146_107ea22528_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>Tara is such a little trooper. She did great with the surgery and the stitches (and she has a LOT of stitches). Any time she would try to mess with the stitches you just had to look at her and say "Tarrrraaaa, Tattie, Tattie, Tattie" and she would stop.<br />
She is such a sweetie pie... I have been trying (mostly unsuccessfully) not to freak out...too much. <br />
<br />
We got the preliminary lab results that it is a malignant sarcoma, and that the surgical margins are clear. We are still waiting for a more detailed report. Tattie gets the stitches out on Tuesday, and the WonderVet will show me where all of her lymph nodes are so I can check them every day. Apparently that's the next probable place for a lump to appear.<br />
<br />
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. <a href="http://britknitter.blogspot.com/2008/04/missing-two-very-special-dogs-on.html" target=" ">I hate the month of April</a>. I totally blame April for every bad thing in the world. Not really, but I have so much anger over this. So very much...<br />
<br />
<br />
So what about the title of this post... "In Which I Become Brave"? What's that about? Certainly not anything to do with Tara. I am the opposite of brave where the dogs are concerned. Not at all.<br />
<br />
A very good friend who has a large heart, and an even larger dose of craziness (the way all good friends should be) has gone through a very nasty divorce over the last two years, and decided to move from New Jersey to Ohio. Her main concern about the move was her cats. She has 6 indoor cats, and 5 outdoor cats. The indoor and outdoor cats do not get along, or else they would all be indoor cats, so I offered to help drive the cats to Ohio. The plan was for her to drive the indoor cats and I would drive the outdoor cats. The moving date? April 15. April 15,<b> 2011</b>.<br />
<br />
That date came and went, obviously, so then the moving date was was July, then November, then February, and then April again. (Yes, freaking April!) Plans were made to leave on April 4th, and I would return by train on April 6th in time to go to work on the 7th. I arranged for vacation time from work, we rented an SUV, and I bought my train ticket home.<br />
<br />
April 2nd comes, and she says she will never be ready, can we delay a week? I couldn't go the next week, so we decided on Monday, April 16th. We would leave early in the morning, arrive at her new home outside of Cleveland in the afternoon, have a couple of days to unpack and get things settled, and I would catch a train home on the 19th. The only passenger train that comes through northern Ohio heading east arrives at 12:25am. Middle of the night. Ugh, but no problem. We can deal with that.<br />
<br /><br /><br />
<br />
She called me on Friday the 13th (that should have been a red flag) and said the movers would not be finished packing, and could we leave on Tuesday? Sure. No problem. At that point I was just as happy to be home with Tara, as it was six days after her surgery. I drove to her house anyway on Monday to help with getting the rental car, and any last minute packing that needed to be done.<br />
<br />
Last minute packing? It looked like a tornado hit the house with "stuff" still everywhere. (This should have been another red flag.) Not to worry, she says, she is leaving lots of stuff in the house. OK. No problem. We pack until late that night, and make plans to leave at 9:00am on Tuesday.<br />
<br />
What happens next? Do we catch all of the cats? Do we go to Ohio? Stay tuned for the next installment in a day or so. For now, I am headed to Fortescue. No phone, no internet, but plenty of gnats! Heaven!Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-24617558311511326142012-03-25T16:53:00.000-04:002012-03-25T18:23:54.649-04:00So much for more frequent updates...Once again it has been way too long. Why? Working, working, and more working. Things will be getting better on that front, though. I gave my notice to Glitter World. I had a really, really bad day at the register a few Sundays ago. I had a rude, horrible, nasty, bully of a customer, and I realized that it's just not worth it. If I hadn't been exhausted from working seven days a week for the past 18 months, the customer probably wouldn't have gotten to me the way she did. The next day I turned in my notice. They asked if I would continue teaching knit & crochet, and I said yes, but that's only once a week, and at least I won't be working the register any more. Sure, it will take me longer to get rid of my debt, but it will get done, eventually.<br /><br />On a brighter note, I have found some really great ideas on <a href="http://www.pinterest.com"target=" ">Pinterest</a>. Knitting hints, recipes, and fabulous home ideas. Take a look at these cool light fixtures made from teacups...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6426332835/" title="Lights teacups by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6219/6426332835_55a12963f8_m.jpg" alt="Lights teacups" width="192" height="240" /></a><br />...and fruit jars!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6426332897/" title="lights mason jar by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7023/6426332897_a9a6f10124_m.jpg" alt="lights mason jar" width="168" height="240" /></a><br />Wouldn't these fruit jar lights look great over a kitchen sink? Maybe a set of three of them? How does one go about making these lights, though. I know...ask dad! Dad is always up for a project. Sure, he might think it's a stupid idea, and he might question why would anyone would want fruit jars hanging over their sink when the could have a perfectly good fluorescent fixture, or better yet, recessed lighting so you don't see any light source at all. Why draw attention to the fixture, especially when the light it provides is less than adequate for a kitchen? It is worth noting here that dad's idea of "adequate" kitchen lighting is something akin to surgical suite lighting. After all, if you should have to perform an appendectomy, where better than over the kitchen sink?<br /><br />Anyway, I casually mentioned this idea over dinner last Thanksgiving, and dad made the first prototype that weekend. Notice the use of a pumpkin pie filling can as the light fixture:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6426332803/" title="Lights dad by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7166/6426332803_b23f083458_m.jpg" alt="Lights dad" width="240" height="180" /></a><br /><br />After multiple trips to Lowes and an electric supply store on dad's part, and a day trip to find fruit jars on my part, we were ready for the fun to begin. At least, it's the fun part for dad. Ripping and slashing is always the best part of any job, according to him. The cabinet trim came down in one piece (thank goodness) and then it was time for the demolition!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7015245759/" title="WP_000545 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6212/7015245759_14c5e546f1_m.jpg" alt="WP_000545" width="180" height="240" /></a><br />Where there was once just a small hole that fed electrical wires to an ugly fluorescent fixture, now there is a huge, gaping hole. Notice all of the junk on the counter. Insulation, sheet rock, pieces of a 2x4...it was all in dad's way, so now it's all gone!<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7015245675/" title="WP_000546 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7068/7015245675_9121fc967d_m.jpg" alt="WP_000546" width="180" height="240" /></a><br />At least we spread a tarp down first for easy cleanup. Next step, install the board dad made to fit over the sink. He had already pre-wired the new fixtures, of course.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6869134646/" title="WP_000563 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7079/6869134646_7b87dd13ca_m.jpg" alt="WP_000563" width="240" height="180" /></a><br />Add the trim again, and some fruit jars, and voila! A concept becomes a reality!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6869135238/" title="WP_000571 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6120/6869135238_d2ff7f955a_m.jpg" alt="WP_000571" width="240" height="180" /></a><br />I'll never be able to perform an appendectomy over the sink, but I absolutely LOVE my kitchen lighting! Thanks dad! You're the best!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/7015246213/" title="WP_000572 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/7015246213_bd07c1a004_m.jpg" alt="WP_000572" width="240" height="180" /></a>Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-13098369546329858092012-02-05T19:23:00.000-05:002012-02-05T20:15:47.560-05:00All about the dogsIt has been brought to my attention that the dogs didn't get a single mention in the last blog post. Of course, it was <span style="font-style: italic;">the dogs</span> who made me aware of this major oversight. Actually, it was just Emma, but she said that since she is the alpha dog, hers in the only opinion that really counts.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5468405260/" title="81 (2) by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5016/5468405260_bc706043ca_m.jpg" alt="81 (2)" width="240" height="180" /></a><br /><br />So anyway, all three of the hooligans are doing fine. Emma continues to dominate everyone, including me, while Cooper continues to be the clueless boy that he is, and Tara continues to be the sweetest little thing in the world. Seriously, I have never had such a calm, quiet, easygoing dog as Tara. Just between the hours of 6am and 10pm, though. She is up at least two times every night, around midnight and then again around 3am. I've tried to ignore her and pretend I'm sleeping, but she knows better. She will stand over me and do one sharp, chirping bark every 10-15 seconds until I give up and take her outside. Her bark is just like the smoke detector when the battery is running low-- very hard to ignore. Having Tara is kind of like having a newborn baby, not that I have personal experience with that. Also, a newborn eventually sleeps through the night. Tara arrived on the Brittany Transport on St. Patrick's Day in 2005, so it's been almost seven years since I have slept through the night. Oh, well. A good night's sleep is highly over-rated.<br /><br />Speaking of the Brittany Transport, I had this past Saturday off from Glitter World, and was able to finally participate in a Transport! This cute little guy's name is Jed.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6826590337/" title="Jed2 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7144/6826590337_9c00354c96_m.jpg" alt="Jed2" width="240" height="180" /></a><br /><br />He is four years old, and has been living with a foster family in Rhode Island. On Saturday, with the help of seven drivers, Jed made his way from Rhode Island to his forever home in Virginia. He is such a sweet boy. It only took a couple of miles on the NJ Turnpike for me to fall head over heels in love with him.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6826590615/" title="jed3 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7170/6826590615_5332ac6fc6_m.jpg" alt="jed3" width="240" height="180" /></a><br />If he was going to a foster home instead of a forever home, I think Jed would be my fourth dog right now! He is in an excellent new home with a loving daddy, though. While we will never know what Jed's first few years of like were like, I am certain that his remaining years on this earth will be happy, and he will be a much loved, much spoiled little boy.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-23097659987015009892012-02-01T02:34:00.001-05:002012-02-01T07:05:30.267-05:00Since November... Really?Today is February 1st, and is it possible that I haven't posted since November? I am such a bad blogger. Non-existent blogger, really.<span style="font-style:italic;"> :sigh:<br /><br /></span> I've been working a lot, and Facebook seems to take up what time I have on the computer. Facebook, and <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/" target=" ">Pinterest</a>. Love Pinterest. Seriously, if you want to waste a perfectly good hour or two, go to Pinterest. Need an invite? Let me know and I'll send you one.<br /><br />Anyway, lots of stuff has been happening around Britknitterville. Remember Stevie Wonder from <a href="http://www.britknitter.blogspot.com/2011/11/at-long-last.html" target=" ">this post</a>?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377817311/" title="Stevie Wonder by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6116/6377817311_4764e54327_m.jpg" alt="Stevie Wonder" width="240" height="180" /></a><br /><br />He was such a friendly little guy. (Notice the use of past tense? You know where this is going, don't you?) He always greeted me when I brought him his food. Well, one Sunday morning as I was getting ready to go to work at Glitter World, he didn't greet me. I was running late, and figured he was just being a lazy mouse. When I got home from work, his food was still in his bowl. Not a good sign. I found him curled up in a little ball. He had departed this world and gone to that great mouse wheel in the sky. I felt like crap going off to work without making sure he was ok. What would I have done if he was still alive, though. Take him to the vet? I don't know. Anyway, I placed him in his little wicker mouse nest with lots of cotton and wood chips and buried him under the dogwood tree. RIP, Stevie Wonder. Now I just have Carlos Ruiz, and I never see him at all. He waits until I leave the room before coming out to get his food or water. If I want to have a look at him, I have to leave the room and shut the door, then peek through the curtain to watch him come out from under the wood chips. If I open the door again, he dives for the chips. Did I mention Carlos is a biter? He is. <span style="font-style:italic;">:sigh:</span><br /><br />Oh, and remember the stray dog that wandered into that yard from <a href="http://britknitter.blogspot.com/2011/08/after-stormand-earthquake.html" target=" ">this post</a>?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6069228593/" title="Russell by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6087/6069228593_c431726054_m.jpg" alt="Russell" width="170" height="128" /></a><br /><br />I named him Russell, for obvious reasons. Well, he got away from his owner again, and found his way back to Britknitterville. Only this time, there was a casualty. Hanna.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377586755/" title="Hanna by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6217/6377586755_cbb45b0e5e_m.jpg" alt="Hanna" width="180" height="240" /></a><br /><br />Yep, Russell got into the garage (through the cat door) and couldn't get back out. While he was in there, he killed Hanna. Feathers everywhere. I know he's a dog and it's instinct, but it's hard not to be mad at Russell for killing such a sweet chicken. Russell's owner offered to buy us another chicken. Seriously? <span style="font-style:italic;">:sigh:</span><br /><br />Speaking of dogs and people who should make sure that they are secure, those of you who follow me on Facebook know that my niece Michelle's dog Luna got away from her while she was walking through the woods near her house. It is my absolute worst nightmare, that one of my babes should get loose. There is nothing like the feeling of walking into your vet's office and seeing a "Lost Dog" poster, and knowing that dog.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6767105631/" title="Luna missing by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7170/6767105631_05172b29f3_m.jpg" alt="Luna missing" width="240" height="180" /></a><br /><br />Eleven days she was gone. There were literally hundreds of flyers all over the area, and I frankly gave up hope after day seven. Fortunately, a local farmer (who had been allowing Luna's searchers to tramp through his fields and woods) spotted her, called my niece, and followed Luna until Michelle arrived and caught the escape artist.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6767105517/" title="Luna & Michelle by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7175/6767105517_d06f8caa11_m.jpg" alt="Luna & Michelle" width="240" height="180" /></a><br /><br />This is Michelle and Luna later that afternoon. See, this post isn't all bad news!<br /><br />Now, this bit is especially for <a href="http://knittingitout.wordpress.com/" target=" ">Golden Gracie's mom in Chicago</a>. There is a man who lives near Fortescue with eight beautiful Golden Retrievers. It's a rare thing to see one person with eight big dogs (except for <a href="http://theportuguesewaterblog.blogspot.com/" target=" ">Sue and her pack of ten dogs</a>... Happy Birthday, Sue!), but when you see those eight dogs fishing on the beach, now <span style="font-style:italic;">that's</span> a sight to be seen!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6767105567/" title="Goldens by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7008/6767105567_501f8fe5f0_m.jpg" alt="Goldens" width="240" height="180" /></a><br />Here they are, all calmly watching their daddy fish off the beach.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6767105689/" title="Goldens2 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7172/6767105689_3c14196c46_m.jpg" alt="Goldens2" width="240" height="180" /></a><br />They are all on leashes and are tied to a pole holder in the sand. They are all perfectly well behaved, and stay there for hours watching the sea birds and enjoying the sunshine. What a life!<br /><br />I have to go and get ready for work now. I'll do my best to post again before another three months go by!Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-31352195747877879282011-11-26T13:34:00.000-05:002011-11-26T14:19:56.315-05:00Yet another bite...OK, so my last post left off talking about the seagull incident. I didn't mention that there was another bite that same day. Not another seagull. Not another mouse. This time was a feral cat.<br /><br />Remember <a href="http://britknitter.blogspot.com/2011/02/here-kitty-kitty-kitty.html" target=" ">this post</a> about the feral cat colony in Fortescue? My sister and I were feeding the cats, hoping to catch some of them and get them neutered, but of course we were not fully prepared. No cat cage, no gloves... nothing but a bag of cat chow and high hopes of saving a life or two.<br /><br />To make a long story short (I have to get ready to go to work), I ended up getting bitten by one of the cats. I didn't get a picture of it, but it looked something like this:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6406513663/" title="scary black cat by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7007/6406513663_4c4e7825fc_o.jpg" alt="scary black cat" height="254" width="198" /></a><br /><br />It wasn't the cat's fault. The poor thing was scared. Still, I ended with some kitty fangs in my hand. You know what that means... The next day I called my doctor's office to see if I needed an antibiotic. The nurse told me that they send all cat bites to the ER. Seriously? The Emergency Room? I told her that it wasn't serious at all, definitely NOT an emergency. She said that is standard procedure. I insisted on seeing a doctor before being sent to the ER, so they reluctantly gave me an appointment.<br /><br />The nurse who came to the waiting room to take me back to an exam room looked at me and said "You're the mouse girl!" What have you gotten into now? After briefly explaining, she said "I want to follow you around for a week. You must have a fascinating life." Fascinating? Yeah, right.<br /><br />The doctor agreed that it wasn't serious, and gave me an antibiotic but told me that I had to be seen again in a week. Even if it was completely healed, I HAD to go back and let them see the wound. I figured that was better than going to the ER, so I agreed.<br /><br />One week later, I go back to the doctor. After the routine blood pressure, pulse, temperature check, she examines the seagull and cat bites and then says that even though everything was healing nicely, she wanted me to get a rabies antibody test. Apparently I had a fever. Great. There was no way I could have rabies. I figured she was just being overly thorough. I took the paperwork, "filed" it in the glove compartment of my car, and figured she would never know if I got the test or not.<br /><br />A week goes by, and I am really feeling like crap. Tired all the time, headache-y, stiff neck, eyes hurt. All of the classic signs of a fever. I took my temperature. It was 100.2. I take some Advil, and get on with my day. Next day, feeling like crap again, temp was 99.9. Holy crap, could I have rabies????<br /><br />I dug the paperwork for bloodwork out of my glove compartment and hauled my fevered self to the lab. Two (feverish) days go by, then three, then four. I don't hear a word. I call the doctor's office on day 5. I am told it takes at least a week for a rabies test, sometimes two weeks. Then there was the Thanksgiving holiday... I tell the nurse I still have a fever, she wants me to come in right away. I put her off, figuring there is no point in being seen without the results of the bloodwork. At this point I'm thinking rabies is a possibility...<br /><br />Fortunately, the nurse called yesterday. NO RABIES!!! Yay! Time to do a happy dance! Since I still have a fever, they put me on another antibiotic. The third one in as many months. Let's hope this one knocks the hell out of whatever is wreaking havoc with my body!Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-9078621872653719122011-11-23T18:28:00.000-05:002011-11-23T18:28:00.081-05:00Another bite.First things first... Happy Thanksgiving to all! Yes, I know it's not until tomorrow, but I am working tomorrow, and don't know if I will get a chance to blog.<br /><br />Yes, that's right. I am working. On Thanksgiving. Glitter World is open, so I will be putting on my happy face and ringing up tons of glitter-covered-crap that people just can't live without and feel the need to buy on Thanksgiving Day. It's not so bad, really. It's just another thing to be thankful for, right? A job. Two jobs, actually. So many people would be thrilled to be working tomorrow, or any day at all, that I don't feel as though I can complain about working. At least I don't have to cook a Thanksgiving meal. Cracker Barrel, here we come! Yet another thing to be thankful for!<br /><br />What else am I thankful for? Emma, Tara and Cooper, of course. Although they have their cute little noses out of joint because their little mousey brothers Stevie and Carlos got their pictures in the last blog post. Was there a single picture of the dogs? Nope. Sure, the dogs were mentioned in passing, but apparently that wasn't sufficient, and their egos have taken a hit. So, without further ado, I give you <span style="font-style: italic;">(drumroll, please)</span>...<br /><br />Cooper, Emma and Tara!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6390784543/" title="Cooper, Emma, Tara by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6216/6390784543_f90b092c0b_m.jpg" alt="Cooper, Emma, Tara" height="180" width="240" /></a><br />I wanted to get a picture of them doing something cute, but this is what they do 99% of the time. This photo is unusual in that all three babes are in one photo--a rare occurrence! I am so thankful that they are happy and healthy, particularly as Cooper and Emma would technically qualify as "seniors", although both can still act very much like puppies on occasion.<br /><br />Here is another picture of the babes from today when I ran home from work to let then out at lunchtime.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6390664649/" title="Tara & Cooper by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6238/6390664649_b05298339e_m.jpg" alt="Tara & Cooper" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />That's Tara and Cooper. (Emma was camera shy.) It was raining, and Tara and Cooper hate getting their feet wet. I was standing out in the rain, getting soaked, cajoling and pleading with them to "come down and do pee pees". They are doing their best to ignore me. Notice the closed eyes... It kills me that the think that if they can't see me, I can't see them. Silly babes.<br /><br />At the risk of doggie overload, here is a picture of Cooper and Tara from last week.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377817955/" title="Cooper, Tara & Hanna by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6113/6377817955_ba4d63fc79_m.jpg" alt="Cooper, Tara & Hanna" height="180" width="240" /></a><br />The chicken on the gate? That's Hanna. She is (or <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span>) the neighbor's chicken. She has been living here for a couple of years. Notice Emma is not in this picture. She's afraid of Hanna. I know, I know... a bird dog who is afraid of a chicken. My dad says I have single-handedly ruined the breed by coddling my sweet babes.<br /><br />Anyway, Cooper quickly lost interest, but not Tara. She and Hanna had a standoff, and I was about to be late for work.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377818061/" title="Tara & Hanna by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6098/6377818061_b8c074fb1f_m.jpg" alt="Tara & Hanna" height="180" width="240" /></a><br />The only thing I could do was "shoooo" Hanna off the gate.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377816951/" title="Hanna by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6216/6377816951_e0cd565470_m.jpg" alt="Hanna" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Oh my, look at that ugly scar on my hand... We'll come back to that later.<br /><br />Hanna decided she didn't want to be "shoooo'd" and found somewhere else to perch. On me.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377586755/" title="Hanna by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6217/6377586755_cbb45b0e5e_m.jpg" alt="Hanna" height="240" width="180" /></a><br />She stayed on my arm until I walked to the woods and found a tree limb for her to perch on. Silly bird.<br /><br />Back to the scar...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377586633/" title="Seagull Scar by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6035/6377586633_dcf5f194e5_m.jpg" alt="Seagull Scar" height="180" width="240" /></a><br />Ugly, isn't it? It's about six weeks old now, so it's actually looking a LOT better than it did. How did I get it? Another bite. It was more like a rip, really. My sister and I were on the beach at Fortescue, and a woman down the beach was fishing, and a seagull got caught in her fishing line. How? I have no idea. I've never seen that happen before.<br /><br />Of course, I go running down the beach to lend a hand, and the seagull bites the hand that frees it! It wasn't his fault, though. The poor thing was terrified. The fishing line was wrapped around both wings and both feet. Between the three of us we managed to get him free and he flew away <span style="font-style: italic;">(thank-you-baby-jesus)</span> leaving nothing but three happy women, and some blood on the beach. My blood, not his.<br /><br />Fortunately, the seagull was not harmed in any way.<br /><br />Fortunately, I now have a house a Fortescue, so was able to go and wash the wound with antibacterial soap & wrap it up.<br /><br />Fortunately, I recently had a tetanus shot, (you know... from the mouse bites) so I feel protected from any heebie jeebies that seagulls might carry.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I have an ugly scar, despite the use of Vitamin E cream.<br /><br />Unfortunately, seagulls creep me out now. This is what I imagine every seagull is saying to me:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6390844015/" title="Mean seagull by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6224/6390844015_d5e82279f5_m.jpg" alt="Mean seagull" height="192" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Unfortunately, the seagull incident was not the end of my adventures that day...<br /><br />Stay tuned for another bite. Literally.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-19261987941719145002011-11-21T18:52:00.005-05:002011-11-26T14:27:58.205-05:00At long last...Finally, a blog post! I appreciate the emails and Ravelry messages I've gotten over the past couple of months, but want to assure you that everything here is fine. Mom and dad are doing great. The dogs are all happy, healthy and always looking for trouble. I've just been so busy, working at the museum and at Glitter World. I have so much to get everyone caught up on that there is no way I can do it in one post. In the first place, I would be up all night working on it, and in the second place, it would bore you all to tears.<br /><br />Have you ever heard the joke about "How do you eat an elephant?" Answer: One bite at a time. Anyway, I have a big ol' elephant of stuff to share, and will be writing "bites" until I get caught up. Now for the first bite. No pun intended... You'll understand this later on.<br /><br />A couple of months ago, my niece who works at the local PetSmart posted a picture of a blind mouse in need of a home on her Facebook page. Apparently this little guy came into the store for sale and was missing an eye and she was afraid it would become "snake food". It's bad enough for these little mousies to be sold for food (yes, I know about the circle of life and the food chain and all that, but I don't want to see it or allow it to happen on my watch, you know?) but this poor little guy would never see the snake coming at him and have no chance at all to get away.<br /><br />Well, since I am not using credit cards, I had to wait 3 days until payday to go at get little Stevie. (I named him after Stevie Wonder, being blind and all) Not having had any caged pets since I was a kid, I needed the cage, litter, bottles, dishes, food, etc. and had to wait until I got the cash. So, on payday I went to PetSmart and bought this:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6173034368/" title="Stevie, Carlos & Cliff by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6158/6173034368_c7b67a4e7b_m.jpg" alt="Stevie, Carlos & Cliff" height="240" width="180" /></a><br />It's not just a simple cage, it's an apartment tower of mousey-fun! I went with the super-size accommodations, because Stevie was in a cage with two other mice, and I didn't want to buy just Stevie and have him miss his little friends. Of course, I couldn't choose which of the other two mice to buy, and if I only bought one, the other one would be all alone, so of course I had to buy all three mice.<br /><br />Admittedly, I had no idea what I was getting into, and I don't recommend anyone purchase a pet if they do not fully understand what the care of that pet entails. In fact, I have never had any great fondness for mice. Really, I hate the little suckers. Correction... I USED to hate the little suckers. Somehow I managed to convince myself that little Stevie was going to be snake bait and I was his only hope for survival. So, I just jumped in with both feet and am in this for the long haul...for better or for worse.<br /><br />Better: There is a <a href="http://www.rmca.org/"target=" ">Rat and Mouse Club of America</a> and the people on the forums there are very helpful to newbies like me.<br /><br />Better: They are all boys, so there will not be any additional mice.<br /><br />Worse: They are all boys, and boys will fight to the death as they mature.<br /><br />Worse: I had to purchase two additional cages to prevent mouse homicide... or mouse-icide????<br /><br />Worse: Boy mice are notoriously stinky, and one boy mouse smells as bad as five girl mice.<br /><br />Worse: My laundry room immediately took on the odor of 15 mice. We're talking really, really stinky.<br /><br />Better: My sister's secretary took one of the mice off of my hands.<br /><br />Worse: The laundry room still smelled like it had 10 mice. Still really, really stinky.<br /><br />Better: There is a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/GoodBye-Ferrets-Small-Animals-Gallon/dp/B0002ARQS2" target=" ">product</a> that you add to their water bottles and it helps to neutralize the odor of mouse urine.<br /><br />Worse: It takes several weeks to get the odor down to a manageable level.<br /><br />Worse: Mice bite. They bite and hang on with a vengeance even when you are screaming and trying to shake them off of your hand.<br /><br />Worse: If you are bitten by a mouse (or two, or three) you need to get a tetanus shot and an antibiotic. Just add the co-pay and prescription to the cost of the mice, cages, litter, food, water additive, etc., etc., etc. Also, the doctor has to call the county board of health and then tells you to monitor the mice for any non-mouse-like behavior. Rabies, you know.<br /><br />Better: I have two new little souls that it is surprisingly easy to love. Here is little Stevie:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377817311/" title="Stevie Wonder by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6116/6377817311_4764e54327_m.jpg" alt="Stevie Wonder" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />And here is a picture of both Carlos Ruiz and Stevie Wonder:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6377817507/" title="Photo_38737EF2-0165-573D-250C-FAEFDAE7BE93 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6055/6377817507_37a56639d2_m.jpg" alt="Photo_38737EF2-0165-573D-250C-FAEFDAE7BE93" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />My stinky boys. Priceless.<br /><br />Stay tuned for future bites. Literally.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-74996900119996591552011-08-28T17:37:00.000-04:002011-08-29T06:38:37.446-04:00After the Storm...and the Earthquake.Hurricane Irene has come and gone, but rest assured that everyone here in BritKnitterville is fine. I hope everyone reading this is safe, too. Irene was downgraded to a Category One hurricane by the time she made landfall in New Jersey. Oddly enough, this is just the third time in the State's history that a hurricane made a direct hit. This was the first time that we boarded up the windows of the Museum where I work.
<br />
<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6090630962/" title="Hurricane Irene 3 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6183/6090630962_567f17779a_m.jpg" alt="Hurricane Irene 3" height="160" width="213" /></a>
<br />
<br />Irene caused the evacuation of Cape May County (yes a whole county of people!) and most of the shore communities on the coast. Fortunately my little house in Fortescue is on the Delaware Bay side of the state, but I would say that just about everyone left the island for higher ground, even though evacuation was not mandatory. My sister and I drove down there this morning to check on things, and there were lots of trees and wires down (and no power on the island), but fortunately not a lot of property damage. My little house survived with only the loss of one of the window shutters. Whew!
<br />
<br />Not only did we have a Hurricane this week, we also had an Earthquake! In New Jersey! Ok, so technically it wasn't centered in New Jersey, but it sure felt like it! I can't imagine what it was like in Virginia. One minute I was sitting at the computer at in the Museum's library, and my chair starts rolling. I look up, and the hanging lights are swinging. We ran out into the museum (a GLASS museum, by the way) and the ginormous chandeliers in the lobby are swinging. Being in a glass museum in an earthquake is not my idea of fun, by the way. An earthquake in New Jersey...very strange.
<br />
<br />In other news, I have a fourth dog. Well, HAD a fourth dog. For 24 hours. He wandered into the yard last Sunday and started eating the cats' food in the garage. He had a collar, but no tags and I named him Russell. Why? He's a Jack Russell Terrier, so what better name for this sweet boy?
<br />
<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6069228593/" title="Russell by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6087/6069228593_c431726054_m.jpg" alt="Russell" height="128" width="170" /></a>
<br />
<br />To make a long story short, I will never take another dog in to the local SPCA to be scanned for a microchip. I will wait until my Vet's office opens and let them scan the dog. The local SPCA took Russell from me to scan him (no chip, by the way), and wouldn't let me take him back home! I told them I would give them all of my information in case the owner turned up, but they said they couldn't legally release him to me since I wasn't the owner. I never heard of that before. I took Cooper there three years ago to be scanned and they released him to me. Not Russell. They said I could come back in 7 days and fill out an application for adoption. Let me tell you, I was a mess. I was crying, which got another woman crying, and then two more women came to see what we were crying about and they started crying. Still, I had to leave without Russell... I posted his picture on Craig's List and Missing Pet.com, and hung posters in local stores. In the end it was the posters that reunited Russell with his owner. No more SPCA for me!
<br />
<br />I'm sharing this picture just because it's so cute:
<br />
<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/6014001317/" title="dad working on shed by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6146/6014001317_4821a0a02b_m.jpg" alt="dad working on shed" height="180" width="240" /></a>
<br />
<br />That's my dad, with his hair all messy and dirty knees. Doesn't he look great? Especially considering that he has had a rough year with two cancer surgeries. (Still cancer free!!!) He is working on a ramp for the shed at Fortescue. He is happiest when he has a project, and the Fortescue house is an endless source of projects for him. Endless, until the money runs out, which it does on a regular basis. I just made my second mortgage payment, and oddly enough it still doesn't feel like it's MY house. I still have that "trespassing" feeling when I walk in. This helps, though:
<br />
<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5978523011/" title="Scarlett Framed by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6005/5978523011_9e8434805f_m.jpg" alt="Scarlett Framed" height="180" width="240" /></a>
<br />
<br />It is a picture of my first Brittany, Scarlett. My sister had an artist friend of hers do it for me shortly before I lost my sweet Scarlett. Now, every time I walk in the front door, this is what I see:
<br />
<br />
<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5997782159/" title="scarlett framed by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6026/5997782159_fa3043fa40_m.jpg" alt="scarlett framed" height="180" width="240" /></a>
<br />
<br />Yep, that's my house alright. Scarlett watches over it for me while I am away.
<br />Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-60961716080733807412011-07-26T17:34:00.002-04:002011-07-27T10:35:36.852-04:00I'm still here...Yes, it’s been a while. A looooonnng while. Between working 7 days, and working on the house in my “spare” time, I’ve been neglecting every other area of my life. Rest assured that all is well here. Mom and dad are doing fine. Emma, Tara and Cooper are all great. Ornery as ever, which is always a good sign. Recently we even passed the three year anniversary of the day we found sweet Cooper McLooper. I think he's happy here, don't you?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5979101774/" title="Loopie Coopie by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6121/5979101774_0ff9993379_m.jpg" alt="Loopie Coopie" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Anyway, the house is coming along nicely. Ceilings have been painted, fences have been put up, shed doors have been rebuilt, electrical stuff has been rewired, and lamps have been hung. Of course, none of this could have been done without help from dear old dad. Here is the electrical engineer, himself:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5882174844/" title="chick magnet by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5261/5882174844_fb474dca55_m.jpg" alt="chick magnet" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Yes he is, indeed, modeling a “chick magnet” T-shirt. My dear, delusional, dad.<br /><br />Mom has been very helpful, too, with lots of design advice. Here she is on moving day...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5881613685/" title="mom at fortescue by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6018/5881613685_c6f79bd8b3_m.jpg" alt="mom at fortescue" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />... <s>napping on the sofa</s>, umm, contemplating color schemes and curtain styles. Of course, when I say “moving day” I use that term loosely. I haven’t actually really and truly moved. First I had to get the fence installed for the dogs, but then there were some problems with installation, and the company hasn’t come out to fix it yet. That’s a story for another day, though.<br /><br />Then there was the problem of a place to sleep. I almost envy the cave dwellers, in their lack of decision making when it comes to decorating and finding a place to sleep. In the civilized world, this is a multi-step process, involving first buying a bed (as I will still have a bedroom at my sister’s house). Done. Then choosing a bedroom. Done. Then picking out a paint color that wouldn’t clash with the carpet. Done. Then actually getting that paint from the can onto the walls.<br /><br />Not done. <span style="font-style:italic;">:sigh:</span><br /><br />Maybe this weekend when I get off work from Glitter World, but maybe not. The painting has to be done before I can arrange for delivery of the bed, because who wants to climb over a bed while trying to paint? I also wanted to replace the (old, nasty, ugly) ceiling fan in that room but it looks like that will have to wait. All spending has come to a screeching halt. My checkbook needs life support after hemorrhaging money over the past month. However, I am proud to say that I have not used a credit card since August 13, 2010. Shocking, isn’t it? If I can’t afford to pay cash for it, I don’t buy it. Living within my means...a concept Congress can’t grasp.<br /><br />Never fear, though. There are still plenty of no-cost and low-cost things to be done, and first on my list was hanging this lamp:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5979138392/" title="my lamp by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6013/5979138392_69aff904a8_m.jpg" alt="my lamp" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Isn't it lovely? Mom and dad made this lampshade. Actually made it! Cut the glass, wrapped the pieces, and soldered it all together. They made several cut glass lamps back in the 70s. After this one was finished, they decided they didn’t like the shape, and it was on its way out to the trash. Yes, the trash. Growing up, if a thing wasn't useful or was perceived as lacking in some way, it was put out for trash day. I often wonder what would have happened if any of us kids was handicapped or had any learning disabilities... But I digress. I loved the lamp and couldn't stand to have it tossed out, and even though I didn’t have a place for it at the time, I rescued it from the trash and stowed it under my bed for safe keeping. When I moved in with my sister, I hung it on an enclosed porch, but now it has a place of honor above my dining room table. I knew I would have a place for it someday... I just didn’t know that “someday” would take 30 years, or be so far from civilization!<br /><br />I know that some people (most of my family, that is) think Fortescue is the ends of the Earth... the back of beyond... but I think it’s just perfect. I’ve met several of my neighbors already, and two of them are knitters! Everyone is so friendly and laid back. If you’re looking for what are traditionally known as the “finer things” in life, like internet access, marginally reliable cell service, trash pickup, mail delivery, or more than 5 television stations, Fortescue is not your kind of place.<br /><br />If you are looking for a peaceful spot to relax and decompress with a walk on the beach, and don’t mind driving 20 miles (or more) for a gas station or a grocery store, I have a gem of a spot for you.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5211708857/" title="2010_11270036 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4084/5211708857_7452c1469a_m.jpg" alt="2010_11270036" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />The people here are so friendly, and everyone has time to sit and chat over a glass of iced tea. The best thing about being here is asking someone for directions to, say, the dump, or a farm stand to buy some corn and tomatoes. You get answers like:<br /><blockquote><br />"Head out over the bridge, and go inland for a couple of miles. Make a left at the yellow house with a pool in the back yard. Keep going for a bit, and there will be a deli on your left (that they neglect to mention has been closed for more than 40 years, just in case you were hoping to get a sandwich and some chips), and then a pasture on the right where the cows are always wading in the creek. Make a right, and stay on that road until you see the black lab hanging out on the porch of the brick house, and then make the next left. If you come to the big oak tree that lost a limb a few winters back, you know you’ve gone too far."</blockquote><br />Seriously. It is so funny. It makes me want to ask someone for directions even though I don’t need to go anywhere!<br /><br />OK, enough for this post. For now, I’ll leave you with a video of a new song by the Zac Brown Band. This song perfectly describes the Fortescue way of life! Enjoy!<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gFYX6Q3fqpw" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"></iframe>Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-62101891928894389662011-06-23T16:25:00.003-04:002011-06-23T17:05:36.299-04:00The sign says it all...<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5857241833/" title="100_2436 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3163/5857241833_1fe62e7d6a_m.jpg" alt="100_2436" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Yes, the population at Fortescue increased by one yesterday! I've already met three neighbors, and two of them are knitters. I don't have telephone service or internet down there, and even cell phone service comes and goes. It's wonderful!<br /><br />More later, with pictures. For now, I am headed back to Fortescue with another car load of stuff.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-32811572248324212032011-06-20T19:35:00.003-04:002011-06-20T20:44:30.900-04:00Lots of News, All of it Good!Almost a month since I've posted... I'm a very, very bad blogger. It's been a month of ups and downs, and generally nerve wracking episodes pretty much daily. Today, however, was an "up" day. Way, way up. Dad went back to his surgeon for a follow-up visit today. He had his thyroid removed on June 8th, and after a pretty rough recovery, he is doing better now. The best, most important news from his doctor visit today is that the biopsy report was clear! No cancer at all! What a relief. Dad is still pretty sore from the surgery, and has limited neck movement, but after another week or two he will be back to his old self.<br /><br />We traditionally make him his favorite meal - hamburgers with all the fixin's for Father's Day, but not this year. Here's a picture from a couple of years ago:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/2281518041/" title="100_0941 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2401/2281518041_e8885eba8b_m.jpg" alt="100_0941" height="180" width="240" /></a><br />Can you see how big that burger is? He piles everything on his burgers. Cheese, bacon, tomato, lettuce, green pepper, onion, pickles... so much stuff I don't know how he eats it all. Maybe by this weekend he will feel up to the traditional Father's Day burger fest.<br /><br />More good news: Mom is doing really well after her surgery last week. She had a botox injection into a muscle at the base of her esophagus, and she is eating much better now. It may have to be repeated every 6 months or so, but that's a small price to pay for being able to eat without the discomfort she has been experiencing for years now.<br /><br />More good news: I've got mail!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5854935070/" title="Phot4tsq mail by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5103/5854935070_a82d22a828_m.jpg" alt="Phot4tsq mail" height="240" width="180" /></a><br /><br />Yes, it's all junk mail, but it's mine. Ok, none of it has my actual name on it, unless I want to change my name to "Occupant" or "Current Resident" or "Box Holder", that is.<br /><br />So what's the big deal about getting mail? This mail was in my very own Post Office Box. Mine! At Fortescue!<br /><br />Why would anyone get mail at Fortescue unless they lived there? They wouldn't! I will be closing on my house on Wednesday! Yes, that was another good piece of news today. After a nail-biting four days in which the bank and the homeowners/flood insurance company were going back and forth about the wording on the insurance policy (of all things to hold up a settlement...one sentence in an insurance policy!), they finally came to a compromise, and in a mere 36 hours, I will be a homeowner! Me!<br /><br />Does that mean I'm a grown up now? I hope not.Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-71137558626664550512011-05-24T18:09:00.000-04:002011-05-24T18:09:00.144-04:00Pass the Marshmallows...A few weeks ago, I was feeling like I was going nowhere with my get-out-of-debt plan, so I decided to figure out how much I had paid off since <a href="http://britknitter.blogspot.com/2010/11/in-which-chain-of-shame-gets-little.html">my last bonfire</a>. I removed the chains from the Chain of Shame, it made a tidy little pile.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5740147231/" title="May Fire1 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2794/5740147231_f9a7f65dee_m.jpg" alt="May Fire1" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Time to break out the matches...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5740698936/" title="May Fire2 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3011/5740698936_4f23e6a003_m.jpg" alt="May Fire2" height="180" width="240" /></a><br />...and celebrate...<br /><br />...and then go deeper into debt:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5754454747/" title="Under Contract by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5142/5754454747_eb2a05c548_m.jpg" alt="Under Contract" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Yep, the Fortescue house is now officially under contract! Woo Hoo! All I need now is the mortgage commitment, which should come through by June 10th. That will keep everything on track to have the survey, inspections, certifications, blah, blah, blah, done by the settlement date of June 30th!<br /><br />It looks like June will be a big month around here, with Dad's thyroid surgery on the 8th, and mom's esophagus surgery on the 14th. Fortunately, dad is already stocking up on supplies in anticipation of spending time in Fortescue in the next couple of months.<br /><br />What supplies?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5740147349/" title="dad with bug spray by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2722/5740147349_09cf3d4293_m.jpg" alt="dad with bug spray" height="240" width="180" /></a><br /><br />BUG SPRAY!Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-84765454537819961832011-05-20T13:50:00.000-04:002011-05-20T15:34:31.576-04:00Too Many Red FlagsMan, it's been a while. Yes, I've been busy, but that's not the only reason I've been away from the blog. I've tried a couple of times to write, but it has never come out right, so I hit DELETE instead of PUBLISH.<br /><br />First things first...<br /><br />Good news: Dad is doing well after his surgery in March.<br /><br />Not-so-good news: He was diagnosed with thyroid cancer a couple of weeks ago. We are told that it is completely unrelated to the prostate cancer. He has to have surgery to remove the thyroid, and then a couple of weeks after that he will have to be re-admitted to the hospital to take some very weird meds. Apparently, within 3-5 days of taking these meds, he will glow in the dark. (Not really...at least I hope not.) Next week we will find out more details on the surgery and post-surgical treatment.<br /><br />Other than that, everything is pretty much the same. Mom is doing well. She is scheduled for Botox next month.That's right, Botox! I can't stop laughing whenever I think of it. She's not getting it for wrinkles (if she had any, that is). She was recently diagnosed with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Achalasia"target=" ">esophageal achalasia</a>, so they are going to relax the muscle at the bottom of her esophagus with Botox. I keep telling her that once you start with the plastic surgery, it's just a slippery slope. Pretty soon she will be getting a butt lift and a boob job!<br /><br />The dogs, assorted cats and chickens are all doing great.<br /><br />OK, I think I'll end this post right here.<br /><br />Thanks for reading.<br /><br />Goodbye.<br /><br />See ya.<br /><br />Go on now.<br /><br />You're still here?<br /><br />You're asking about the little house at Fortescue from my last post?<br /><br />The house I have been drooling over for two years now?<br /><br />This cute little house with tons of character?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5212308448/" title="2010_11270038 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4125/5212308448_582fcb4cd8_m.jpg" alt="2010_11270038" height="180" width="240" /></a><br />Why yes, I did indeed put in an offer on this house!<br /><br />I know the house is small; the bedrooms are barely big enough for a twin bed, let alone a full or queen; the bedrooms and bathroom are up a narrow, winding flight of steps; the outbuildings are practically falling down and are one high tide away from being washed into the marsh. I know all that, and I love the house anyway. The deeper I got into the house, though, the more red flags started popping up.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5740147407/" title="redflags by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3657/5740147407_59ca51e4f8_m.jpg" alt="redflags" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />The house has been vacant for over three years? That just proves that it needs someone to love it. Termite damage? OK. I can live with that. Leaky pipes? No problem. That's what plumbers are for. An owner who is reluctant to sell? That's a little harder to deal with, but that's what real estate agents are for.<br /><br />And then came the big red flag. Do you see that outbuilding behind the house? Inside the building, there is an old, unused shallow well. You open the door, and there is a hole in the ground, about 2 feet in diameter, full of water. No lid or anything to keep you from falling into it. No big deal. Make a lid for the well, secure it so no one can fall into it, and viola! Well problem solved. At least we <span style="font-style: italic;">thought </span>it was a well. Turns out, it's the septic. Full of water. No lid, because apparently it fills up so often that it has to be pumped out once a month. Estimate to get a new, properly draining septic system? $15,000-$25,000.<br /><br />Big red flag. Huge. Big enough to cover the whole state of New Jersey. Granted, New Jersey <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> one of the smaller states, but still...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5643702205/" title="Fortescue House by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5186/5643702205_4efa2c9fc2_m.jpg" alt="Fortescue House" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />This house is just not an option for me, and will henceforth will be referred to as "The Money Pit".<br /><br />But... behind every dark cloud there is a silver lining. When God closes a door, He always opens a window. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I could go on and on with pithy sayings, but you catch my drift.<br /><br />I now present.. (drumroll, please)... the Silver Lining:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5740701506/" title="25 Louisiana b by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2175/5740701506_c2cbb2ae2e_m.jpg" alt="25 Louisiana b" height="180" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Longtime readers might recognize this as <a href="http://britknitter.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-still-alive.html"target=" ">the house we rented last summer</a> when an old friend came to New Jersey for a visit. This house is also in Fortescue, and while it doesn't have the charm of <s>my house</s> the Money Pit, there is something to be said for three bedrooms, a bath and a half, and actually being able to flush the toilets.<br /><br />So, am I just teasing, or did I actually take the plunge?<br /><br />Hand me a towel, because I am soaking wet!<br /><br />I was afraid to post about this earlier, afraid I would jinx it, but I made an offer, it was accepted (after some back and forth), the contracts have been signed, the attorney review period is over, and an independent house inspector only found two things wrong: it needs GFI outlets in the kitchen, and the front porch is missing lag bolts. Easy stuff.<br /><br />Now I'm just waiting for the mortgage to come through, but have been assured that it will go through without a problem. Famous last words, right? I'm not counting my chickens before they're hatched, but I'm starting to think that I might actually be a homeowner very soon.<br /><br />How's <span style="font-style:italic;">that </span>for a silver lining?Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1019592276440846866.post-53870088798653954782011-04-23T07:05:00.002-04:002011-05-20T13:49:38.373-04:00Working, working, working......and more working. Mom and dad are both doing good, the babes are all excellent (health-wise, not behavior-wise, of course), but between working at the Museum and Glitter World, I'm feeling like a zombie. I keep telling myself that this won't be forever, and I just have to keep my eyes on the goal. What is my goal? Get out of debt! Pay off all credit cards and my car, and become totally debt free. I can't imagine how that feels, but if all goes according to plan, by June of 2013, I should be able to tell you. Seems so far away, but I am determined to do it. Absolutely determined.<br /><br />No deviation from the plan.<br /><br />None.<br /><br />At all.<br /><br />Unless...<br /><br />Wouldn't it be fantastic...<br /><br />If it were a possibility...<br /><br />That this could be mine?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8729257@N04/5212308448/" title="2010_11270038 by Brit Knitter, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4125/5212308448_582fcb4cd8_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="2010_11270038"></a><br /><br />So, on one hand I could be totally debt free in approximately 26 months.<br /><br />On the other hand, I could go deeper into debt for approximately 26 years.<br /><br />Sounds like a no-brainer, right?<br /><br />:sigh:<br /><br />Updates in the near future.<br /><br />For now, you guessed it, I am off to work.<br /><br />:-/Diannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874368719000440871noreply@blogger.com7