Rough Night

Last night left me shaking.  I'm still trying to deal with all of my emotions about it.  Here's what happened:

Hubband and I were just sitting down to relax for an hour to watch a TV show when we hear a crazy noise.  We had the TV on so we weren't sure quite what we were hearing but it didn't stop. So we paused the show and ran to the backyard.  It sounded like the neighbors dog may have caught a cat and the cat was losing the battle.  It wasn't quite that simple... (note: I don't wish ill on any cats, even if they are the spawn of Satan)

The neighbors dog is a very bouncy 90lb boxer who doesn't get enough attention or exercise, so naturally he takes out his boredom by running around and playing with objects in the backyard.  Unfortunately, one of these objects is a decorative, metal food dish stand.  The decorative metal is about a 1/4" thick.  It looks something like this:

PLEASE DON'T BUY THIS FOR BIG DOGS!

Not exactly something that I think of to put out for a Boxer - a Chihuahua, or some other foofy dog, perhaps, but not a Boxer.  Nonetheless, this is what his owners have decided to give him.  In all of his frivolity, the dog (we assume) pounced on this stand in his boredom and managed to get his paw through one of the curlycue's on the side of the dish.  He. Was. SCREAMING!  If you've never heard a dog scream in terror and pain, consider yourself lucky.

Now here's the catch.  The owner's are out of town.  They've left the dog at home with their cousin.  This cousin has dogs, two foofy dogs as a matter of fact, so he knows how to handle himself around animals.  But he's not from San Diego.  He's from Yuma.  So he knows nothing about the vet centers in San Diego.  And why should he?  Who would have expected this to happen?  He calmed the dog down a bit but not before Hubband and I rushed over there to see what had happened.  It's amazing what your mind stops worrying about when you see an animal in pain.  I was in my pajamas pants and tank top, no bra, no shoes or socks, trying to take care of this dog in a backyard that hasn't seen water in years (literally - two years).  When I came home I realized I was covered in burrs, and dead grass.  I didn't care.

And then it hits me - I got into emergency management mode.  Deal with this situation.  The tin snips aren't going through the dish.  We can't move the dog - he's not only in a lot of pain, and we don't have the right equipment to immobilize him in a vehicle, but he's going to hurt himself or us when we try to move him.  Hubband calls an Animal Rescue center to see if they can send someone to come get him.  Nope - but they did tell him that if they came to get the dog, it would be considered abandoned and the owners would never get him back.  Assholes.  Uh... not an option (even if I think he might be better in another home).  

I call the Emergency vet center and they give me three phone numbers.  The first is an emergency, mobile veterinarian.  She doesn't answer.  The second is a mobile, in-home euthanasia veterinarian who the vet clinic thought might have some information about transporting hurt animals.  They also don't answer.  Finally, I find an angel by the name of Damian Mitchell.  He specializes in animal transportation. He's trying to talk me into how I can move the dog because his services are expensive ($225 to pick up the dog).  Then he hears the dog screaming.  He says "I'll get in my car NOW!".  

30 minutes later this angel arrives at our house (he drove down from north county) and completely takes over the situation. He's calm, authoritative, but not pushy, or rude.  He calmed the dog down.  He calmed us down.  He was truly a hero.  By 9:30 last night (this all started at 7:10) we had the dog at the emergency vet clinic.  The ultimate cost of the night was 2+ hours of heartache.  I don't care if it cost us $225.  I wouldn't have cared if it cost us $1,000.

I guess if I can leave you with nothing else, when in doubt about moving an animal, call Damian.  His company is TLC Pet Care & Transport and you can reach him at 760-809-8953.  I want everyone in San Diego County to know about this man - he's truly a gem.  

Thanks for reading... I know it's not the standard, upbeat post, but I had to share about what happened.  I'm still pretty shaken.  And an update on the dog - they were able to get the dog dish stand off him in 5 minutes.  I know it seems like a lot of anxiety for us for them to remove it and make it all right in 5 minutes but honestly, I'm not a vet.  I couldn't imagine trying to force it off myself, and we could have been hurt ourselves.  Lovely, adorable Havoc is fine.  He'll be back at the fence in no time!

Adventures in the Kitchen: Buns

If I haven't mentioned it before, the Hubband is quite a catch.  He cooks.  He cleans.  He brings home the bacon so I can have a career I love.  The cooking is almost always an adventure though.  He's not so into making meals he's made before.  He always wants to "go big or go home".  Since he's always at home when he cooks the only option left is to "go big".  And yesterday's meal was no exception.

We have a bit of a battle in the house - who makes the best chili?  I argue that I do as it's a more "traditional" chili (and by "traditional" I mean that it's the same delicious recipe that my Mum gave to me that I've been using for years and years).  He argues that his is better because it's always different.  And I have to admit, his is VERY good (wipe that smug look off your face, Hubband).  However, after the last chili event we ran into a bit of a situation.  It was SO spicy it was a bit hard to eat.  So instead of drinking lots of milk or water to reduce the spice we found a way to add more calories and fat to the meal - we decided to use buns to aid us in eating the chili more slowly rather than just taking smaller bites.  I know - it's ingenious!  

This time when the Hubband made the chili he used 2 1/2 jalapeños so we weren't sure how spicy it was going to be.  So he planned ahead and looked up a recipe to make homemade buns rather than buying them at the store.  Infinitely more tasty, but arguably far more work.  

They turned out GREAT!  They're a very dense bun because he found a recipe that doesn't require them to rise but here's the process.  I thought it was picture-worthy.

 

 

Mm, mm, good!

The Cleaning Sickness

There's an obvious trend emerging when I get sick.  No, not the gross trend where the cold develops from a small tickle into a monstrous annoyance full of runny noses, sleepless nights and tender glands.  It's "The Cleaning Sickness".

I'm not very good at being sick.  I think I got it from my Dad.  At least if my  Mum had any say in this, she'd agree that my Dad is a bit of a baby when he get's sick.  And so am I.  Of course now that I actually sit here and think about it, I suppose it's a strange opinion.  I don't know anyone who says "Yay! I'm sick! I LOVE getting sick.  Now I can take some time off".  Well, maybe high school students do, but otherwise, many of us suffer through being sick as if it's the worst thing that's ever happened to us.  I'm no exception.  

I get weepy - I'll cry at books.  I'll cry at movies.  Heck, even just thinking about the fact that I'm sick makes me cry.  But it's the last few days of the cold that really surprise me.  On the 3rd last day of the cold (that was yesterday) I am a mess - I lie on the couch, reading books, watching bad TV and movies I've seen umpteen times.  I don't shower.  I eat ridiculously  high amounts of sodium in an effort to drown my sorrows about being sick in a dehydrated fog.  I get sore from lack of mobility.  Basically, the worst version of myself takes up residence on our couch and pouts at the Hubband to please get me Diet Ginger ale and cookies.  He does the first.  He won't give me cookies.  He knows that if he gives me cookies I'll pout at him a week later because for "some reason" my pants no longer fit.  They've shrunk! ;-)

And then the 2nd last day of being sick arrives.  Today.  YAY!  Well, sort of yay.  My voice isn't really up to par and my nose is still runny but I'm a CLEANING MACHINE!  I empty garbages that have needed it for the past week but have gone unnoticed in my daze of illness.  I start organizing - filing, packaging, labeling, reviewing emails long forgotten.  I make the bed.  I get ridiculous amounts of work done for my clients.  I don't know what it is other than my body saying "Ok!  You're almost human again.  To make up for the past week, today you must be SUPER HUMAN!".  And so I go for it.

The last day of the sickness, which is tomorrow, is the day I dread most.  I'm 98.77777% better.  I don't have a stuffed up nose.  My head is clear.  I'm ready to get back to life as usual.  Except, I'm a coughing maniac.  Talking makes me cough.  Sleeping makes me cough.  Cough drops hardly get rid of my cough, though they help a bit.  Sigh...

So, I'm excited about the rest of today.  I shall continue to be uber productive until midnight tonight, at which point I predict the coughing shall commence.  I hope you all sleep well; I know Hubband and I sure won't!

Operation Paint Da House: 2010 - Part II

After posting what I thought was a great post yesterday, using stunning imagery through words, I was corrected by a friend who claims to be a "visual" reader. He offered to help remedy the situation by taking pictures of Hubband and I painting the house. Much to his surprise, I took him up on the offer. So, yesterday afternoon, Sean of Resolusean Photography drove over to my house to make painting appear far more glamorous than it is.  Turns out, painting isn't all that exciting, but Peaches got a great photo session out of it. And I got a great afternoon's conversation. Thanks, Sean, for pretty-ing up my blog and making it more enjoyable for my readers!

I do have to hand it to Sean, though, he does make painting the house seem like a more attractive prospect.  Look at these photos - they make me want to go back out and get some more painting done!

Front light - thank goodness Hubband covered this or it would match the house.

Sean has succeeded in making a can of paint look sexy.  That's right!  S E X Y! 

No! That's not a hot new fashion trend - that's tape, acting as a bangle.  Gotta paint in style, girls!

I put tape in my pocket, and then my cell phone.  When I pulled it out, it was stuck like this.  Surprisingly this was entertaining enough to discuss a few times (with Sean and Hubband).

I told you I slapped the tape to any surface it would stick to.  Turns out it sticks very well to windows.

Within 10 minutes of starting the process yesterday I stuck my elbow flat against a wet wall. I think it says "I'm a hard worker and I'm not afraid to let it show".  Or maybe it says "I'm a klutz with a short memory". 

How does he DO that?  The container of paint looks sexy too!

Tools of the trade. 

 

Not my sexiest, I'll admit...

I got bored with my original canvas so I moved on to a more entertaining one.  Thanks, Hubband!

And now, on to Peaches' pro photo session.  Not much of a worker this dog, but cute as all get out!

The smile just kept getting bigger.  Too cute!

Thanks for everything, Sean! We're looking forward to our next photo session this weekend.  I'll be paint free, this time, I promise!

Operation Paint Da House: 2010

In 2008, much to our utter shock, Hubband and I (who was not yet Hubband at the time - still Lowly Boyfriend) bought a house.  Why, you ask, is that such a shock?  Because houses are ri-donk-uloulsy expensive in San Diego.  But, like I said, to our utter shock, when the bottom fell out of the housing market, we were able to accomplish a dream.  Ha ha!  If I recall my church-related upbringing correctly, the meek shall inherit the earth.  Rise up, mighty Meeklings!  Now is OUR time!  (Side note: a big "thank you" to all the banks and mortgage lenders that hosed all the previously un-meek home buyers by giving them ridiculous mortgages without accurate background checks.  You have made my dreams come true!)

So, as I was saying, in 2008, much to our utter shock, Hubband and I bought a simple home; a bungalow that has become our little corner of the world.  When I say I love this house, I'm not exaggerating.  We looked at dozens (sadly, I'm not exaggerating...) of houses before we found our Home.  When we walked in the front door I said "Oh yeah, this is our home".  We submitted the offer and within 24 hours we had an answer.  It was meant to be.

It's now two years since we bought the house; we have a little bit of money saved up so we want to make some small upgrades.  We looked at putting an addition on the back of the house but it was going to cost us about a bazillion dollars (give or take a kazillion) so we decided, instead, to just paint the exterior of the house and put up an arbor over the front patio.  Yeeeeeahhhhhh... brilliant idea on paper.  Bad idea in reality.

Three or four weeks ago darling Hubband started to scrape the house down to take off all of the old, dried, cracking paint (which is a glorious salmon color, by the way).  If I remember correctly this task had him annoyed within two hours or so.  So Hubband went to his favorite store (* shameless plug*): Home Depot.  He bought himself a palm sander and once again revisited the task of removing the paint from the house.  This step, while likely necessary, and ultimately faster than scraping the house, is far more annoying for those of us residing inside the house.  Namely, me and the dog.  The dog proceeded the spend the afternoon whining and pacing the house while Hubband tried to reduce the house to rubble by means of a palm sander.

Sanding complete (two weeks later).  Now it's time to paint.  Only, we need to prime before we get to add color.  Priming = house looking like it's done a bad job of applying sunscreen. Hubband has also, ever-so-diligently, taped off all the elements of the house that we don't want to be painted.  However, with the heat and humidity over the past week and a bit, most of the tape is now dangling and swaying in the wind.  Periodically this will rub against the office window and scare the bajeezus out of me.  I've now started to slap the tape back down to any surface it will stick to so I avoid the unexpected moments of terror.

So this weekend, I get motivated to help him.  I'm kind of an "instant gratification" gal so if I put paint on the walls, it had best be color.  However, the priming isn't done so I agree to be the good wife that I promised to be when we said our "I do's" and I paint all possible surfaces within my range (anything lower than 6' or so).  What this really means is that I've painted two measly pieces of trim around the garage and a bit of the concrete that the previous owners thoughtfully painted pink (no, we still don't know why).  Then Hubband decides to dump a container full of primer down the front of himself. At first it's funny.  Yes, it's a moment riddled with inappropriate language as Hubband is doing his absolute best not to get paint on the driveway, but mostly I'm giggling as I do my utmost to remove the mass of paint from his clothing.  And what, you ask, is the best way to try to remove paint from a body?  Paint it!  In theory the brush will absorb the extra paint and we can scrape it back into the can for future use.  I'm not so good with theories!

So now Hubband is mostly white, and a little giddy from the paint removal process, and the panic starts to set in.  We realize that perhaps we've bitten off a little more than we can chew (proverbially speaking, of course).  Hubband is standing on the ladder, brush and bucket in hand, contemplating how we're going to paint the the peak of the house when we only have a ladder that will allow us to reach 10'.  I'm pacing, trying to figure out how to make the process easier.  I call my Parentals.  They don't answer.  Hubband and I share a look - I'm almost in tears.

"What have we done?", I think to myself.  "There's no way we can conceivably finish a task like this!  We're Meeklings, not mighty, over-confident-home-owners capable of taking on monumental tasks by ourselves.  We're the payers - the people who hire other people to do stuff like this because we don't know how.  Our "Plan B" is: when in doubt, pay someone to do the job!"  So I do the only logical thing: I grab the laptop to find someone to finish the job for us.  No good.  No one is open on Sundays (did I mention I'm an instant gratification kind of gal?) and it's going to be far more expensive than we had hoped.  

Plan C?  Just. Do. It.

Armed with our paint swatch choices and the grit and determination of a field mouse, I head back to Home Depot in search of inspiration.  I purchase two cans of paint - COLORED cans of paint.  I figure in the name of sanity, it's best to just move forward and make it happen.  I return to the house $80 lighter thanks to the paint and the "Better" paint brushes I bought, and proceed to add color to the house while Hubband continues to prime all of the surfaces that I can't reach.  Success - Team Schmaltz beats the odds again!

Is it done?  Nope, but we're getting there.  Will it be done by the end of this month?  Probably not, but that's mostly because we're doing our part in the "worst-looking-house-on-the-block" parade.  Next month it will be someone else's turn and we'll be able to drive down the block, snickering smugly to ourselves, rolling our eyes and saying "Poor Meeklings!  They don't know what they've got themselves into.  Thank goodness WE are mighty and know how to take care of our home".

Love in a yellow box.

Working from home permits me to be a little lazy on my own time.  Take today for example: I have things I should be doing - working on some graphics for my parents company; updating document templates with my new logo; walking the dog... all sorts of productive things that should be done.  HOWEVER! The world won't fall apart without them being done so I've resigned myself to the fact that today will likely be a relatively unproductive day as I'm not feeling particularly well (my tummy hurts for no good reason and I don't want to dress like an adult because tight pants hurt so I'm sitting here in stretch pants and a not-so-baggy t-shirt, pouting).  I do, however, have to muster up a bit of dignity before 5pm when I will be picked up by a colleague to head to a rather public networking event this evening.  A big part of me wants to cancel.  But I've paid $55 for the meeting and with my current income being what it is (or perhaps what it isn't) it's likely best that I get my money's worth (tight pants not withstanding...)

Getting back on topic: I work at home.  Very little goes unnoticed in my house as a result.  For example, I've learned that my darling Hubband, while very good at cleaning the bathroom, and painting the house, and maintaining our landscape, cannot, for the life of him, wipe the counters after he makes a mess (ahem... meal).  In the grand scheme of things, much like my lackluster productivity level today, the world will not fall of its axis if he doesn't wipe the counters.  However, it does irritate to no end. 

So I grumble and pull out the sanitizing spray to wipe down the cutting board that appears to be stained with last nights pork loin marinade (yes, he cooks good food).  And I grumble as I rip the paper towel off the roll.  I mentally bitch at the fact that I'm left cleaning up after his mess (completely ignoring the fact that he worked a full day and then came home to cook me dinner while I continued to work on the computer).  Cleaning done, I lumber over to the cupboard and grab the toaster (because I've decided to make myself some peanut butter and honey toast to ease my gurgling stomach) and I find the box of Honey Nut Cheerios that I assumed he had finished yesterday.  He left one bowl-size portion for me.  Turns out, he loves me!  It also turns out, to my utter astonishment, that I'm perhaps slightly less justified in my opinion of the amount of work I do around the house than I had imagined I was.  

Time to turn over a new leaf.  Tomorrow.

Today I will continue with the mental self-flagellation for ever thinking an unkind thought about my darling Hubband and his house-keeping abilities, and I will move forward with the procrastination of just about everything on my to do list.

And Hubband, when you read this, if you did it by accident, and you just felt like plain Cheerios instead of Honey Nut Cheerios, please don't burst my bubble.  I love you too!

What I DON'T Want to See First Thing In the Morning...

You may have read my previous post about my phobias.  Today, I think Mother Nature was messing with me.  I walked out of my front door, smiling, excited to be going to visit Haydee of Concepts Event Design to help her with her blog design and what do I see?  THIS!  

It's as long as my pointer finger.  No... I didn't get this close with my cell phone camera - I zoomed in on this mo' fo'!  Needless to say I was a bit distracted on my way down to National City.  His younger brother greeted me when I came home by jumping across my path which sent me screaming (kind of literally) in to the house.  Ugh... can it be Friday already?!