Something Tribbling here

Rule 21 -  make connections

    I’ve been forced, these past few days, to make a good examination of conscience. Sister Mary Eucharista (grade 3, St. Matthew’s) would be happy with me for this. I’ve had to take a good look at the projects Hub and I got done, things that cropped up during to add to the project list, and what is still on the table - like, stuff I‘d rather be doing. That middle part is the tribbling part. Have you ever gotten going on a project, then 7 or 8 more come up while you are doing that 1 major project? Some mathletes look at this phenomenon as subset problems of the greater problem. Other, more philosophical folks, defer to Murphy’s Law. Then there’s us Trekkies, and we find the situation totally Tribbling.

     Not a Trekkie? Almost everyone has heard of the Star Trek franchise. There’s the “Next Generation”, "Voyager", and the movies. Those of us of a certain age will remember the original series - you know, William Shatner’s life before Boston Legal and Priceline… One episode from the original series found the crew of the Starship Enterprise venturing to a port in the outer galaxies. Someone brought on board a salesman, who sold one Lt. Uhura a Tribble. These are cute, furry creatures that purr and coo. They are relaxing to have around. They were transportable in a pocket or purse. They loved to be next to their people. They had one drawback, which the crew found out about quickly. Tribbles reproduced at a rate that would make your average rabbit herd look like a bunch of cloistered monks. The fur balls got into the food and into the cargo, and ate themselves silly. They didn’t do any real damage to the ship, but they messed with everyone’s heads so badly… they had to go. And they did, but not without the crew learning something in return.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXE5l0dXt5c&feature=context-shows&list=SL


     Life around here has been a bit Tribbling this past week. Our kitchen is finished with a few exception (minor fixes). We moved box after box out of the living room and the contents have new homes in the new cupboards. Still to be unpacked is the dining room. We are painting the walls before we move the dining room furniture back in place. At this writing, we are in the final coats on the walls and trim.

     Add to this Ma Nature. Not only has she had hot flashes in the form of 100 degree-plus heat, she’s been a sweaty mess. Maryland gets ridiculously humid in the summer. This summer is no exception. Painting in this weather - even in an air-conditioned house- is challenging.

     Then Ma introduced us to Derecho. Talk about a blow-hard… he should run for public office. Seriously, the winds hit our neighborhood with such force that good trees got topped. One of my neighbor’s trees landed on our back patio and deck, with a renegade branch hitting and rolling on our roof. We got lucky with this item, since the insurance adjuster checked out the roof and found no damage. No major damage of any kind, except to my garden ornaments and gnome colony. But the tree needs to be cut up. The job is started, but we need to finish it.

     The heat has pretty much fried the gardens. I can’t keep up with the watering. There’s also the clean up of the yard on a regular basis. All this stopped while the kitchen project was going. And it’s really too unsafe in the heat to work out there now. At least for us, it is.

     Haven’t had the energy to read in the evening either. By the time dinner is cleaned up, my get up and go, got up and went. So there sits two Julie Hyzy books, just waiting to be read. There sits dog training books I use as reference in my manuscripts. Oh, to use them before their expiration dates from the library!

    Writing time suffered too. The only thing I could keep up with is this blog. I’ve got writing projects in various stages of completion just waiting patiently to be pulled out. One manuscript is almost submission ready. It needs just a bit of tweeking. My rabbit character, Esther Bunny, needs to contact her Jersey public again. That’s got to happen soon, too. And I need to work on the fabric I bought to make a stuffed Esther, as inspiration. My plans for Blog 2 are on hold too.

     Church duties came up again this week with two funerals. Ask any funeral director- no one dies on your schedule. And I need to combine scope and sequence charts for two different 7th and 8th grade religious education programs - to be used at the same time.

     This is beyond Tribbling. These projects are eating up my brain cells and I spend more time over-organizing my life than I should.

<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Bprgl_4z6gY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Ok, Self. Time to prioritize…

1. Finish dining room. All else waits for that project to be done.
2. Finish cleaning up the tree when the heat breaks.
3. Read when you can.
4. Keep voice recorder handy. At least when an idea hits, you can talk it into the recorder. Do this instead of the post-it note thing. You already can’t find your desk already for the to-do list and the post-it notes.
5. Figure due dates, mark the calendar, and hit the gas peddle. We are off in warp drive to get things done.

Now, to take a deep breath and get back to painting the dining room.

     The grain shipment in the show was sabotaged. Do not sabotage your success, Self. Get it into warp drive.

Need more power, Scotty….

Captain, I’m givin’ ‘er all she’s got…

Loose ends...

Rule # 41 - There doesn’t always have to be a moral to a story

     It’s almost one entire month since our kitchen got “crashed”. I sit here today trying to catch my breath and plot my next moves. I am tired - tired of camping in my living room, tired of eating dust, tired of trying to cook at a “campsite”, tired of things being topsy-turvy, tired of tripping over boxes, just plain tired. (Madeline Kahn, where are you when I need you to sing from “Blazing Saddles”?)

     But - and this is a big one - I am very satisfied! Now I stand in my newly refurbished kitchen and say to myself, “Self, you live here. This is yours! And you got class! (or at least it looks that way)”

     In the past few weeks, we’ve had so many contractors working here, the place sometimes resembled ants at a picnic. Busy, each day. Slowly, but surely things came together. Yes, we were inconvenienced a bit, and dust really doesn’t taste that great. But I had faith in the workers and our project manager. It paid off, big time!

Lots of dust

     We had a painter paint our walls a light green. I learned long ago that the mind reacts to the colors it observes. Hey, advertisers use that technique all the time to get us to feel hungry when we aren’t.  Green is a “sedative” of sorts. It seemed to calm the mind down. Light values of green should make the room a bit brighter. But our old kitchen was bright yellow. Very high on the visual stimulus meter. It was all right, but we needed a new look. Now, I’m not sure if this calm thing can translate into “I’m not as stimulated, so I’m not eating as much as before and should lose weight”, but it’s worth a shot. I’ve found a Zen color for me.

     I trashed carpet on that side of the house. Well, actually several animal pets trashed it for us. Hardwood flooring came in to replace it. It feels softer on the ole’ paws and achey, breaky knees and legs. And does it look fantastic!!!

before

after

     We used to have painted walls for a backsplash. Now, way back when, that was a cool thing to have. But these poor walls, and the paint, have been washed so much that the paint lost its semi-gloss finish. We got tile to replace it and put some decorative touches in there with glass bits.

back splash tile layout

      We lost the Formica counter top, complete with mitered seam that caught all kinds of food, and brought in quartz. Seamless quartz!  Cool, seamless quartz! Lovin’ it!

quartz counter top

another view of why we needed a back splash!

     I wonder how long my daughter will play with the new sink faucet. It has a sprayer built in. Switches to play with and now she just might be able to spray her brother from the sink. (Not on my hardwood floor, Lady!)

cool faucet with a pull-out spray head

     And so much more lighting!!!! Under the counter, extra overhead in the ceiling, new fan.... now I'll be able to really see when I cut myself chopping veggies. No more excuses!

     But if that was the only thing on my stress plate the past few weeks, this soul would be a bit more peaceful. But, no. Mother Nature had to get her 2-cents in, too. Our area was hit with a massive heat wave. Days of 100-degree plus heat kept us frying, or we felt like we were frying. On top of that, the Ole’ Broad had a temper tantrum in the form of a derecho. WTH? I had to watch the Weather Channel to even find out what that was. Seems like it was a sudden downburst of wind up to 100 miles per hour. Our area got hit with 60 miles an hour plus sustained winds with gusts to 75 miles per hour. And we live in a wooded, environmentally protected area… do you see a problem now? Ma decided to prune a few of my neighbor’s trees and dump them on my roof, patio, back deck, veggie garden (sob!), and flower garden gnome colony. Like I don’t have enough firewood, Ma! The weirdest part was, in all that wind, stuff at ground level didn’t move. Trash cans and lawn furniture didn’t budge. The winds were all 50 feet and above, sending the limbs onto power lines. Try calling your insurance agent after a calamity. Even her power was out for a few days. Next project - new roof? We shall see.

     And then the ants came back (real ones, not the contractor comparisons). It was hot and dry outside, so the little shits came inside. In my new kitchen… through the cracks that hadn’t yet been caulked… I hate ants… These are the very prolific sweet kitchen ants too. Sandy soil, hot temps, and dry conditions bring those little buggers out of their hills and into my house. It’s me or them… and I will win… until the next time…

     We still have to paint the dining room. Once that is done, the rest of the boxes can be unloaded and we can relax a bit. We are both tired but must find the energy to complete the task!

     Except for a few items that need to be corrected, we’ve been crashed and it was successful. My one and only kitchen renno is done! Time to break out another bottle of wine and celebrate.

     Thanks, Bill!

Before

After

     And have I got a kitchen contracting company for you….!

Dust to dust

Rule #  38 – Seek Balance

     My grandmother – God rest her soul- would freak! She was a person who believed her sole purpose in life was to take care of the house and family. She also did not like dirt. She was the one who dusted the furniture each and every day, sometimes more. This situation would make her absolutely, freaking crazy.

     We had the drywall put up – the next step in our kitchen crash.  Now while the drywall contractor did his cutting outside, he still taped and mudded the seams, then sanded… And sanded… and remudded and sanded again. This went on for a few days. Now, I’m no Mrs. Clean, but I could literally autograph my furniture. There was wallboard dust in places I didn’t even know existed. We changed the furnace filter and I still think I ate some dust.

     Next step in the process is putting up the cabinets, more dust, but in the form of sawdust. This presents as brown flecks, versus the white powder of the wallboard dust (Dude!). Now there is no way at all, that I can keep ahead of the dust. Air conditioning is on, air is circulating with the house fan, and dust bits appear in the weirdest spots. We go through Swiffer dusters like they grow on trees and are emptying the vacuum more than we have in the past. 

     Add in our painter, who sanded, primed and sanded again. Then he painted. And more dust…  but a great color on our walls. It’s a nice, calm light green.

     In come the floor contractors! And more sawdust! We got hardwood through the dining room and kitchen. Cutting was done primarily on the front deck, but there is still sawdust in the house.

     Now the kitchen is really starting to take shape. We are past 3 weeks of the job and we are almost ready to move the stuff back into the new digs. Did I use the word “ready”??? I am MORE than ready. The project is at the point where we both want it done and over so we can clean up and reclaim our sanity.

     Both Hub and I are sneezing and coughing with the dust. He even changed the furnace filter – again.

     You know, as crazy as my grandmother would have gotten, I often wonder how she would have responded to this work. Bless her heart - she was a bit of a control freak. The house was her domain. When she said to do something, you were supposed to just do it. No questions asked. Screw it up and you did it again and again until it met her standards of cleanliness. My mom – her daughter – was not as much of a stickler. But Mom had her moments. She would get nuts over other people’s clutter. The nuttiness seemed worse when Nana was staying with us. Guess the grandmother had lots to say, and my mom was stuck in the daughter role. One thing I do remember about both women – neither went behind us redoing the job. You did the job to their expectations and that was it. My mom’s expectations were more relaxed, for the most part. I guess having six kids will do that to you.

     My expectations, for the most part, are non-existent. I am eternally grateful for true effort and an attempt at sweat at least as far as cleaning goes. Remember when I said that I taught middle school and high school Home Economics? Most of my relaxed attitude comes from that experience. I showed the students how to clean. I expected them to do it. If they didn’t, tiny livestock moved in – and you would be surprised how quickly the law of natural consequences kicked in and how fast the kids “remembered” how to clean the kitchens. The kids at both levels never left any classroom kitchen totally in disaster mode. But if they did forget a few things, I took the “dirties” and put them in the fridge until the next time they came in. The offenders had to clean up after stuff was frozen on the surfaces. They learned quickly. It was great to have after school detentions in my classroom, too. Behavior problems spent an hour after school scouring stoves, cleaning and sanitizing counters, all while listening to Pavarotti sing his favorite arias (and me, trying to sing along). Word got out, I got a reputation and detentions were not that popular. No one wanted to suffer the pain of listening to opera (or me). Except for this one fellow, who found he actually liked the music of opera. That fellow took notes… not sure if he was serious or just kissing up. Most kids complained about cleaning up after others. I told them to get used to it, especially if they ever had kids themselves.

     My patience is certainly being tested with this project. The professionals are just that – very professional. But sometimes I think I’m becoming my mother. I want it done and over with, so I can get everything back where it belongs. I have to remember to keep the faith. I also have to remember to be a stickler with the quality of the work. I have to be sure things that need redoing, get redone. Back to teacher mode…

     Note to self: trust that this job will be done, to my satisfaction and as close to on-time as possible and any issues will not resemble the pain of passing a kidney stone. Find your inner chi, self… deep breaths. It will soon be finished…

     Ummmmmmm….. Ohmmmmmmmm…. Ummmmmmm……

     And where is the latest, new furnace filter and box of tissues?

 

....On the Eve of Destruction

Rule # 15 -  Write your observations

It begins. 

Before!

The crash starts at 8:30 am on a Monday morning with the demo of the old kitchen. Everything goes. Some of it was already donated.

And the process still totally amazes me!

And it got me to thinking, too, how easy it is to take something down, or out.

Our contractor scheduled 2 days for demolition of the old kitchen. We started with the carpenter ripping out the cupboards, a wall, and fixtures. He had everything out in one day. He even got it all to the dump and cleaned up his mess, too. One day! Easy, right? Next day the guys from the flooring contractor ripped out the tile and carpeting, and cleaned up after themselves, too. One day and done! The wallpaper came down on Wednesday morning. And that was it!

Forty years ago all that kitchen stuff was new, state-of-the-art, and sparkling. Now it was dust and garbage. Way too easy!

When I watch the home dec shows on HGTV or DIY, the owners always say the demo is such a satisfying thing to do. Just think… you smash! You take a sledge hammer to a wall and beat the stuffins’ out of it. It’s more stress relief than a Whack-a-Mole game on the Boardwalk.

It made me think… if tearing down stuff is this easy, how easy is it to tear down a relationship? Seriously, how many of us took one second and then regretted what we said or did because it tore someone down? The kitchen demo can be turned around and fixed. “I’m sorry” doesn’t always fix relationships. It doesn’t always fix events.

Back when I was still a classroom teacher, I heard way too many kids pump out “I’m sorry” as a reflex. They would say something, see the reaction and then apologize.  The problem was, the kids never changed their behavior patterns or attitudes.  They continued to act like jerks and apologize, thinking that all was well. What was the point of the apology then?

An “I’m sorry” without a change in behavior or attitude is no more than hot air and empty words… and there’s enough of that going around.

That was a difficult concept to hammer into a pre-teen’s head. Or a teenager’s, for that matter. Or many adults, to add insult to injury. Even my own rather thick, Irish-German skull… 

When I look at our construction schedule, there are 2 ½ days allotted for demolition and 3 ½ weeks for the rebuild, with an extra 2 weeks added in for settling and “surprise issues”.  Easy take-down, but hard to rebuild. And a process that takes a long time to complete.

I have lots of friends who have gone through relationship issues. Some divorced and called it quits. Some stuck with the relationship to try to work things out. In both scenarios, trust was the ultimate victim of the behavior choice. After the behaviors tore down the relationship, neither person in the relationship could trust the other for a long time… or ever again. I saw that with parent-child relationships, too. The child got involved with a bunch of loser friends, started taking the parents’ love and bail-out acceptance for granted, and the parents could never trust their own child again. Love may still have existed. Bailing out may still have continued. But trust died a nasty death on the altar of  “It’s all about ME”. Sometimes trust came back, but it took a long, long time.

It takes 3 minutes to lose someone’s trust. It takes a lifetime to regain it. Trust has friends like loyalty and fidelity. Without these, there is no trust.

So the demo of the kitchen is done. Now I have to trust that the crafts people know what they are doing as we rebuild. I have to trust their skill and expertise to have my plans come to fruition. And I have to trust that I will not interfere with their work. My husband and I decided long ago, that this job was a pro job. For the most part, the skills needed were beyond our do-it-yourself skill set. Now to trust…

Demolished!

Flashback to teaching again… My eighth grade kids did a career unit. We used a curriculum plan called “The Real Game” to help them learn job acquisition skills and how to live within their means, among other things. It was always an eye opener for both the kids and myself. I could never get over the idea that kids literally fought to be the doctor, lawyer, or politician in the job community we established, because of the money or fame factors. No one wanted to be the carpenter, or the plumber, or the auto mechanic, or the electrician - the get-your-hands-dirty jobs. They had the idea that you got into those jobs only if you flunked out or dropped out of college. They were convinced that you were not smart enough to go to college if you got into those types of trades. Then we looked at the education needed for the trades and compared it to a college degree ladder. Full master trades people have an education in their field that is equivalent to a PhD. And they have experience in their field. And they have already used their education to make money in their field. And they tend to be able to charge their job worth for their labor. That’s more than many college grads can say, even today. It took a while for them to get the idea that EVERY job - as well as every person IN the job - in a community is valuable, not just the high paying ones.

I wonder how many still get that point. Schools don’t seem to, especially when they take the trades out of the building’s total curriculum, and shove kids toward a 4-year degree, whether the kid likes it or not.

Well, now the rebuilding process starts. And I totally trust the crafts people coming into my house and working on it. I am in awe of their knowledge. I will try to snatch tidbits of “how-to” from them as they work. I need to watch the masters at work.

Wish me luck!

About my stuff...

Rule #35 - No profanity please.

     It’s crash time. It’s a major renovation project for us. Not just a coat of paint on the walls… even then, we both tend to add vocabulary to the English language. Little did I know the snowball effect on my life this project would have.

     We contracted to have our kitchen gutted and redone, and to put hardwood flooring through into the dining room. And, as they say, the prep work is the hardest and longest. So true here.

     It took us over a year to get planning for this project underway. It took longer to save the money for it, but we did it. We found our contractor, got our design done, got the components ordered, got a construction schedule, and now have deadlines to have things done. That was easy, compared to the next steps. Emptying both rooms was a taxing and enlightening experience, to say the least. It was time to rearrange all of our stuff.

     Lucky for us, my sister-in-law works for Hallmark. They may have overpriced cards and kitschy gifts, but they ship stuff to their stores in great boxes. We started to pack up as if we were going to do the one thing my husband wants to do most - move away from the over-taxed life in Maryland!

     Before we could do anything with the boxes, though, we needed some packing material. Hmmmm… what would work? I know, I’ve been meaning to clean out the linen closet. We could use the old towels and sheets as packing material. Genius! And, oh, the treasures I found. My husband has over 30 pair of socks that were stuffed in the linen closet, just waiting for him to wear out what he had and pull them into use. We found underwear that we bought on sale, for both of us. Uh oh…. Time to clean out my underwear drawer! The trash dudes are going to love us this week! Closet and drawers, done and done. Back is a bit sore, but I’ll live. And language stayed civil, for a change.

     Now we have a pile of linens and towels decorating the dining room. Time to pack up the china cabinet, an old book case and a media storage cabinet. I would pull stuff out, wrap it up and turn around to more stuff. It looked like the stuff morphed into rabbits and kept reproducing all over the dining room table. I pulled out and boxed up more stuff. Holy (insert cuss word of choice here)!

     Now I needed a place to store the stuff in boxes…. Hmmmm… empty living room corners. That’s the ticket! We hauled the boxes into the living room and stuff them behind the furniture. We have boxes stacked 4 and 5 high near the fireplace. Dining room stuff is on one side, and kitchen stuff on the other. Ok, we can now move around the living room again…sort of. Those boxes were heavy and hard on the knees. (Insert fresh sets of cuss words)

     Next job is the kitchen. Now we have to be organized. What will we need for the four weeks of the renovation and what can we do without? We packed that up accordingly. Wait a minute… I forgot to set up a cook station in the living room. Move stuff around. Ok… got that covered now.

     I now have to crawl into those inaccessible nooks and crannies in the back of the lower cupboards. Hmmmm… I found antique food stuff! How did we get 3 bottles of Karo light (for candy making and when I cat-sit my grand kitty who is diabetic)? What is this molasses stuff? Wow, we do have grits, so scratch that off the grocery list. How many instant puddings do we really need? That can looks funky, so don’t even bother opening it and trying to recycle the can. Chuck it all. Keep the oriental rice noodles, though. (Creative language use course is now paying off)

     Everyone has a junk drawer in their kitchen. You know, the one that magnetically attracts rubber band, twist ties, General Mills box tops for education bits, pens, pencils, crayons, magnets… and so on. I thought I was so cool limiting myself to 1 junk drawer (in that room). Now to go through all that stuff. Pens that don’t work will no longer live in that drawer. Pencils can be sharpened and kept. I’m seeing a pattern here… keep the old school that doesn’t fail and lose the new school stuff that wears out. (Fresh assortment of cuss words used here)

     Purging kitchen gadgets has to happen too. What have I used recently? Hmmmm…. Short list here. Pull out the 5 or 6 items and keep them with the cooking utensils. Box the rest and they will probably be donated when we restock the shelves.

     Well, everything is now out, boxed, organized, moved… all that stuff from 2 rooms, consolidated down into boxes, tote bags, grocery bags and 2 plastic bins (for the food stuff).  I can’t believe how much stuff we accumulated in those rooms. We now have 3 rooms temporarily in 1 and find ourselves crawling all over our stuff. Language gets creative as we accidentally stub toes on boxes of stuff and get feet tangled in cords for our electrical stuff.

     Someone once told me that profanity is a lazy mind trying to sound important. There is some truth to that phrase, especially when you hear profanity-laced speech coming out of people’s mouths for the heck of it. I hear people use the F-word and make it sound like an exhale. Don’t these people know any other adjectives? What’s the point of sounding coarse? But then, if you are hurt, or angry, what’s a choice word or two going to hurt? We just don’t need a stream of obscenities… that is so NOT cool.

     It’s all I can do to keep my language clean through this process. Doing all right so far, I’ve got to say. Hope it stays that way…. Well, it should. After all, moving the stuff back into the rooms should be more fun than moving it out. It should be like Christmas all over again. Then I get to rethink about how much stuff I really do need.

     George, help me out here!!! Tell me about your stuff…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac

(George Carlin - Stuff, from Comic Relief, HBO)

Now, how much stuff do you really need? Hmmmmm……

dining room stuff

kitchen stuff

And we are living in one room right now...

On fur... and love

Rule #9 - Do not fear emotion

June 5, 2012 - a day that will tear at my heart forever.

     It’s incredible how you remember specific days. I can tell you exactly what I was doing the day President Kennedy was shot. My recollections of 9/11 are still clear as anything. June 5 is another day that will stay with me, because that’s the day we lost our 18 year old dog, Rusty. I will always remember that day, and the few days that lead up to that one. Emotions of those days are still raw and spill out in tears every now and then. The rawness will heal, I’m sure. Until then,......

    This dog was a real family member. I can remember my son and I trolling our Animal Control shelter looking for a dog for my husband as a Father’s Day gift in 1994. We argued about the size of the dog. He wanted big dogs, so they could intimidate anyone who would dare hurt his parents. I wanted a medium-sized dog that looked a bit like our previous hound. I won. After all, his dad and I weren’t getting any younger. A big dog took more space and energy than I was ready to give up. Plus, my son was in college and leaving home for good soon. It was the parents’ dog, not his. He could get his own dog… which he did.

     As we walked into the dog area, I saw those eyes staring back from his cage. He was only 6 months old at the time. He looked so scared and sad. We passed by and gave the other dogs a chance to melt my heart, but we ended back with Rusty. He was called Timber then. His previous family gave him up and left him tied to the fence at Animal Control with his blue blanket. The workers at the shelter found him waiting for them on Monday morning. No one claimed him or wanted him, and he was one day away from that “last shot”. Guess where he ended up?

     We gave my husband a picture of him for Father’s Day. My husband got teary eyed when we told him what we did. Later that week, after his starter shots and a good “fixin’”, our “stallion” came home to our house.

     It was a tenuous start. Rusty wanted to be in charge. Guess his last owner wasn’t too big into pooch discipline. Russ also thought every concave article was his personal food bowl. He helped himself to trash from the trash can, ½ pound of raw bacon from a bowl on the counter (he was fast, too), and some candy from a candy dish on the coffee table. He learned very quickly that his new home was shared with humans and they were in charge, not him. He definitely liked to play, but not really rough. Rusty’s predecessor loved to wrestle. Not Rusty. No bites but he made his displeasure at my son’s pinning him very clear.

     He was also a bit of a drama king. If you accidentally stepped on his paw, he would yelp as you would expect. Then he would limp around and whimper until he got more attention and sympathetic loving.  Once his attention needs were met, he was fine.

     He chose his “alpha” and that was me, for the most part. When my husband and I would cuddle up on the couch, he was right there. When we would hug, he was right there at my feet. He would try to nuzzle in and we would all “group hug”. He was fine with that, as long as he was part of it all. My daughter was still in high school at the time Rusty arrived and the two of them bonded immediately. Rusty made it quite clear that any fellow she dated had to pass the Rusty test. Even if he passed, when they would sit together, the dog wormed his way between them both. No one was going to take his sister from him.

     As the years went by, Rusty proved his worth as a guard dog. His bark was loud and forceful. He did have a tendency to bark at everything, including rolling beer cans. But our neighbors loved the fact that he was alert, loud and intimidating with his bark. His was not a nuisance bark. It was a “Hey, I see something and you have to tell me if it’s friend or foe” type of bark. Usually the neighbors would yell, “Hey Rusty” and he would stop barking. He knew voices too. The only bane of his existence was little kids. He did not like any little crumb snatcher horning in on his territory. He looked at them like they were prey, or a side-dish. We kept him away from little kids. But he loved being around adults!

     Our first inkling that he was going downhill was at 14 years old. Rusty was running like his normal goofy self, chasing this squirrel that drove him crazy. We heard a yelp and he fell down. Then he got up and was limping while he continued to chase the squirrel. Our dog managed to tear his ACL. Well, he was running pass routes like an offensive back, wasn‘t he? But, who thought of knee trouble? His surgery fixed the problem and stunned the vet when he recovered. Dr. Mike couldn’t believe that he made such a great recovery at 14 years old. Rusty was 15 ½ when his popped his other ACL. At that point, surgery was not recommended because of his age. Rusty still defied the odds when he recovered and went on to keep squirrels and blue jays in his sights, chasing them as far as possible. I swore one day we would find him stuck to a tree trunk, because he thought he could climb the tree after the squirrel.

     It was about that time, too, that he started with demadectic mange. We spent the better part of 2 years clearing that issue up once and for all. Again, we also had amazed vets! How could this guy go “Timex” on them? He took lickins and kept on tickin’. Our fuzz-guy was a fighter for sure.

     He was just about to turn 17 when he had his first episode of adult dog vestibular disease. Those symptoms mimic a stroke with seizure. Rusty walked around after the episode listing to the port side and shaking his head. When we took him to the vet for this problem, we all decided it was time for poochie hospice -time for care and comfort for whatever time he had left. Many dogs don’t shake out of the seizure, but Rusty bounced back. It took him about 2 weeks, but he was up and around. That was Christmas 2010. The next year as his 18th birthday hit, you could see deterioration a bit more. But he was still eating, drinking, peeing and pooping at the correct times and in the correct places. He would have another seizure or two but always come back.

     We knew in March it wouldn’t be too much longer that he was with us. His decline was steady and he started with occasional accidents. By May, he was having a hard time walking. We stopped getting him upstairs at night and started to sleep downstairs with him. Yes, he went back to having to go out in the middle of the night. Neither my husband nor I wanted to make the call. But circumstances forced our hand.

     When Dr. Mike walked in that last house call visit, he looked at a fighter who was just plain tired. He checked him out and said that, even if we didn’t call, he would not have lasted more than a week or two. Mike was glad we called and asked for him. Then he explained the process…

     Rusty was laying on the blue blanket that he brought with him from the pound 18 years ago. He sat up, and looked at Mike, my husband and I. Then he knew what was going to happen and laid down on his blanket. Mike gave him the sedative and Rusty started snoring. Then the last shot… no sound, no drama, just peace and quiet in his favorite sleeping spot next to the couch. And tears, from me, my husband and Dr. Mike. Rusty was ready.

     My husband picked up his cremains today. Rusty now rests in a gorgeous box and sits on our picture window sill. It’s the same window he would stand at when he knew it was time for me to come home from work. He would check every knock at the door and every car sound from the driveway from that spot at the window. Now he can keep doing what he did best from his favorite spot - guarding and welcoming us and all who enter.

     Like I said before, my emotions are still raw. I’m crying as I type. I know, as a bereavement minister and former health teacher, that I need to experience all the emotions of grief. Lord knows I cried for about 3 days before his passing. I’m surprised I have any more tears left to shed. But sometimes the best writing comes from raw emotion. I’m not sure if this is my best writing or not. But I hope you got a chance to know Rusty from this piece. And I hope you will also be able to experience the fantastic joy a pet can bring to your life.

    We both miss Rusty so much. The day after his death, we ran errands, and on our way home, we passed Animal Control. It took all our efforts not to turn in. But, we need to honor Rusty by grieving for him. Perhaps at a later date, we will get another dog. We’ve already had 3 and each one had their own personalities. Even our late cat, Duffy, had his own goofy personality. 

     I keep remembering a line from the Muppet Christmas Carol. “Life is a series of meetings and partings. That is the way of it.” It’s a line spoken by one of my favorite animals, Kermit the Frog. And it’s true… you can’t have the happy days without the sad. This is one of the sad parts of life that we just have to experience and cope with the best we can.

     Good bye, sweet Fuzz. We will meet again, I know it.

                                                          <sniff>

O‘s, Magic-al Natitude!

Rule #22 - Question everything         

Rule  #40 Be grateful

      It’s time for some inter-league play. You know, the stuff that the World Series is made of…

     I checked the team website today to see for myself what my mind has a hard time comprehending. Yes, the Orioles are tied for first place. We are about a quarter of the way through the season and, as of this writing, Buck’s Boys have won 29 games. They’ve beaten up on some old adversaries. They’ve taken their share of licks and come out still tickin’.

     Whodathunk? If you asked me last year if this was possible, I’d say no. Many here in Bird Land still are in disbelief. The team is now really putting butts in the seats at Camden Yards. There was a large sea of orange to compete with the Red Sox fans in a recent series. There’s almost as much orange in the stands when the Yankees come to town too. Serious fan frenzy exists here in Baltimore, to the extent that the Ravens can hold their off season practices without too much fanfare.

     This fan frenzy was really visible in a recent inter-league series between the Orioles and the Washington Nationals. The really crazy thing was that it was a battle of 2 first place Eastern division teams that were last year’s cellar dwellers. Again with the “whodathunk?”

     For those of you unfamiliar with this area, there are about 40 miles or so between Baltimore and Washington. It’s a relatively straight shot down I-95 from Camden Yards until you get lost finding Nationals Stadium in D.C. It really is easier to take public transportation to Nats Park. Many media pundits tend to blend Baltimore and Washington together like it’s one big mega-city. Both have similar crime statistics. Both cities have lots of auto traffic. Both have culturally diverse populations. But both also have unique identities. Baltimore - to me - has an old city feel with neighborhoods that reflect the original immigrants who settled there. Washington is more cosmopolitan, more transient. There’s lots more history honored in DC, but people visit that city and sometimes only stay for 4 years. (ask any presidential candidate or staff member)

     Washington did have its own baseball team for years - the Washington Senators. They played in DC from 1901 until 1960, mostly under the name of the Senators. In 1960, Major League Baseball expanded teams and the Senators moved to Minnesota and became the Twins. The city held the rights to the names “Senators” and “Nationals” (another of their team names from 1905 - 1955). The team records were less than stellar. Oh, there was the World Series win in 1924 and their last World Series appearance in 1933. After those glory days, not so much in the win column. But the location made for great photo ops for politicians who dream of baseball stardom.

     Moving the team to the twin cities area of Minneapolis-St. Paul in Minnesota (AHA! Now you know where the moniker “Twins” comes from) left baseball fans in DC without a team. Another Senators franchise surfaced after 1960, but left town to become the Texas Rangers in 1972. Most people who live in DC are from somewhere else, so those fans kept their home town loyalty. But those native to DC migrated north and supported the Baltimore Orioles. It was a marriage of necessity for DC residents. There was no other major league team closer to DC than Baltimore.

     Before the 2005 season, many wondered if this area could support two Major League Baseball franchises. In 2005, the Orioles were in the middle of a “fight for last place in the AL East” With either Toronto or the Tampa Bay Devil Rays (that’s what they were called, folks). The Montreal Expos were in serious trouble financially at that time. Dozens of people showed up to the games (not thousands). So that franchise moved to DC and became the current Washington Nationals.  The first few years they played like a bunch of transplanted Expos. But last year they started a winning “Natitude” and were putting more butts in the seats of the stadium. Things were looking up for DC and baseball.

     And last year things started looking up for the Orioles. They started the season well, then spent most of the rest of the season in their usual funk. They just couldn’t pull it together. They either had pitching or they had hitting, but never the two together. The bull pen was bull, too. But something gelled at the end of last season. They went on a “If-we-aren’t-going-to-the-playoffs-you-aren’t-either” win streak. If you played the O’s, your ranking in the division wasn’t safe. Ask the Red Sox and Terry Francona (now of ESPN because he didn’t get the Sox to the series). Baltimore played like they had nothing to lose – because they were in the basement of the division – again.

     Two teams in the same general neighborhood playing great, always broadcast on TV – is this a great place for baseball nut or what? So what happens when they play each other? Lots of just plain fun, that’s what.

     This past series was in DC and so many O’s fans went down for the game, it was fantastic. You could watch and see O’s orange and Nats red all over a packed house. Colors were interspersed in the crowd. Families had divided team loyalties, but still had a great time.  There was even a “Let’s go O’s” and “Let’s go Nats” chant smack down during the games. It had the atmosphere of 2 high school rivals playing football – without the required fight after the game.

     Refreshing? You bet. I’ve heard stories about other parks, like Yankee Stadium. Not sure if they are true or not, but I’m not about to find out. That’s my last ball park in my bucket list quest to see them all.

     Makes you wonder too… If two fan bases could sit next to each other during a game without hostilities, why can’t the bigger nations do the same? Or maybe we should scrap wars altogether and settle things on the ball field… Hmmmm….

     At any rate, in this tale of two cities, both towns had a boat load of fun, both in the park and in the media. The Orioles took two and the Nationals won the Sunday game. Oh, and Teddy didn’t win the Presidents race… again…still. But if the Nats get to the Series….? And if the O’s get to the Series…? Don’t know if some of our hearts can handle that one.

     Oh, and I am using Rule # 40 and am very grateful for this season so far. I just hope I didn’t jinx either team.

     If you are into a bit of baseball history, check out these websites. You all know that Wikipedia is not 100% authoritative, but the Sports Encyclopedia is. Enjoy your searching.

www.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Nationals

http://www.sportsecyclopedia.com/al/wasdc/nats.html

www.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baltimore_Orioles

http://www.baseball-almanac.com/teams/balt.shtml