That's just creepy

I got up early Sunday morning showered, dressed and woke up Tucker dog. We have a little Sunday morning tradition in our household. Whoever gets up first (aka me) walks down to our neighborhood market and picks up a copy of our local newspaper.

As I was getting ready I told Tucker dog it was Sunday. For the next 10 minutes he danced about. I opened the door to let him out but he wouldn't go. So I went about getting my shoes and socks on, grabbing a jacket, money and his leash. By the time I was ready to set off on our adventure he was aggressively nudging and talking to me. He was so excited by the time we left he bolted down the driveway and stood impatiently waiting for me. It was like he knew it was Sunday....creepy.

Study participants

Apparently it wasn't creepy. According to a story in the Washington Post Tucker dog really did understand what I said. Scientists in Hungary published a groundbreaking study showing Fido understands our words. Amazing. So the next time Tucker dog ignores what I'm saying I'll know better.

An interesting visitor

During hot summer evenings we leave our doors open to capture any zephyr passing through. We do not have screens on our doors so it's not unusual for critters to fly in. That's where this adventure begins. Let me set the stage.

We were enjoying a relaxing evening watching a movie. The house was dark; the best atmosphere for movie watching. A moth fluttered across TV screen. I thought he must like action movies. Eventually he left our viewing corridor and moved on to somewhere else in the house (or Tucker dog ate it).

Suddenly a whirl of black flew through the room! I covered my head and yelled, “A BAT”. It flew circles around the room as I continued to yell like a little girl. My husband calmly said, “It's only a bat. It won't hurt you.”

I finally regained my composure and turned on my reading light. One more tour of the room and the bat left. I quickly jumped up and closed all the doors. Whew....

A life of its own

When I stopped working in 2001 I started gardening. We had very little usable space in direct sunlight because our property is covered by HUMONGOUS deciduous trees. So I started planting pots for our deck.

one corner of our deck

Fast forward 15 years and my little gardening project has morphed into an obsession. In early spring I begin scanning garden supply stores. My copy of Sunset's Western Garden Book is dogeared and stuffed full of plant tags guiding me on what's worked and what hasn't. The book is my constant companion. Plant colors, growing habits and textures are taken into consideration.

Finally, I begin the process of purchasing. Often I'd go grocery shopping and when my husband comes out to carry the sacks in, he'd finds a flat of flowers nestled among them. It takes me a month to purchase and plant all the pots. 

What happens when I end up with a few homeless plants? I buy a new pot!

 

thunbergia 'Arizona Glow'

Currently, I plant and tend 36 pots stuffed with all varieties of annuals and perennials. I love tending them in the quiet, still morning before our little berg awakens. The stillness allows me to watch the bees and hummingbirds flit from flower-to-flower. I average an hour daily deadheading and watering my treasures but it is a labor of love.

What a shocker

I joined an ATC (artist trading card) group 2 years ago. We meet once a month to exchange ATCs we've made representing a specific theme.

For the past 15 years my paper crafting has been in the 12" X 12", 4¼” X 5½” and 5" X 7" formats. Sooooo I thought working in the ATC format of  2½” X 3½” would challenge my creativity. Oh boy, have I been challenged!

I immediately learned that going from big to small is incredibly difficult. All my supplies are geared too LARGE. My stamps are LARGE. My ephemera is LARGE. My first thought was....oh yeah, I get to buy new stamps!  My second thought was....what the hell am I doing!

theme - washi tape

Our themes range from objective to esoteric mind benders like "wind". Huh? Each month as our meeting draws close my stress level increases. I have no ideas! What am I going to do? Finally I reach the OK, I won't go this month point. Out of frustration I sort of pout. But the theme keeps running through my mind. I should be able to do this.

Finally, 24 hours before the meeting I'm struck with an idea! I escape to my studio and begin working like a fiend. Paper, ink, stamps, scissors, more paper, dies, washi tape, more paper. I look like the Tasmanian devil.

But this month was different. I designed and made my 10 ATC cards 5 days before the meeting! Hmmm, what's going on! I'm hoping this trend continues but don't count of it.
 
 

May I watch TV?

I'm pretty sure that's the first question Tucker dog asks me every morning; with the exception of rainy mornings. He is obsessed with watching our resident squirrels. His first task is to make a bee line for the french doors. By the time I get there his left cheek is pressed to the glass and he's snorting dog goobers on the glass.

As I open the door he bolts out and comes to an abrupt stop. He assesses his territory before taking another step. His head slowly swivels from side to side looking for movement.  In a nanosecond he has assessed if its friend or foe.  

Quite often a squirrel is munching bird seed the gold finches have tossed under the feeder. Suddenly Tucker dog becomes an alien. He crouches down and begins to shake. Suddenly he bolts from the deck like an Olympic sprinter. 

Of course he's no match for the squirrel who does a victory lap around the oak tree and returns to eating.

Whew!

I'm glad that's over. Having to spend a portion of 3 consecutive days hooked to an IV is exhausting. Although I have to (grudgingly) admit it was easier than previous infusions. 

Not only was I able to receive the infusion at home but gone was the IV pole and nurse coming to the house to start each bag. They set me up with an elastomeric pump also known as a balloon pump. It was a pretty cool device.

Unfortunately I still received "toxic wasted dump mouth" when the line was flushed with saline and during the time I received the methylprednisone.

Now I just have to wait for the magic cocktail to work. Keep your fingers crossed!

I've never been called THAT before

Tuesday morning my husband drove me to Seattle for a brain MRI to be followed by my semi-annual appointment at the MS Center. You see, I've had multiple sclerosis for 25 years. I'm fortunate because I've been fairly stable since I started one of the MS drugs. Unfortunately things have been changing. I have been slow to admit it but with my MRI pending knew I'd have nowhere to hide.

In the afternoon we met with the nurse practitioner. (I rotate between the neurologist and NP every six months) When she entered the room the first words out of her mouth were, "What's going on?". I assumed she was asking the general "how are you" kind of question. I started to tell her the changes I've noticed when she excitedly said my MRI showed activity; lots of activity (5 new lesions). She thought the lab mixed up the report. She reiterated the fact that I've been stable. What's going on.

She asked a ton of questions to see if there was something obvious that caused the change. Nope. She said I might need to change medication. My husband asked if I'd be a candidate for a treatment of steroids. (I've done this many times in the past when an exacerbation strikes) Yup. She was so taken aback by the change on my MRI she blurted out, "You're an outlier".

A what? I had no intention of telling her I had no idea what "outlier" meant. She told me she would order the steroid treatment and that once the IV was set me husband could administer the infusions.(hooray!) Then she mentioned she was going to discuss the radiology report and MRI with my neurologist (the head of the Neuro-Science department) and she wanted to see me back in 30 days. She also said that I'll have another MRI in 6 months (oh joy).

Add caption

So, can you guess what the first thing I did when I left her office? Did I cry or shout that this wasn't fair? No.I whipped out my cell phone and opened my trusted Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

You learn something new every day. 

Here we go...

I admit it, I've been stuck in neutral. Thanks to my bestie Anna for giving me a jolt of encouragement which tossed me back in the literary saddle. 

In November our cruise ship docked in Civitavecchia, Italy. While it has a great name it didn't have much going for it but it's proximity to Rome. As we exited the ship we were reminded the ship's departure time was 8 PM. No problem. The cruise ship made arrangements to get passengers via bus to the train station. We purchased our tickets, hopped on the train and were off. 

Unfortunately our Roman adventure was accompanied by a driving rain. After visiting St.Peter's and the Pantheon we decided to have lunch. We ducked into a tiny cafe that catered to locals (their menu was in Italian only). What a divine meal. 

Trevi Fountain

Re-energized we continued our journey around town. Our final stop was the Trevi Fountain. The legend says you should stand with your back to the fountain and toss a coin over your left shoulder to guarantee a return trip to Rome. It worked before so we tossed our euros and headed off to the train station.

We purchased tickets for the 6:15 PM train. Unfortunately we didn't realize we were 3 football fields away. We arrived at Gate 27 minutes after the train left. Swell, by this time we were cold, wet and tired. 

We scurried aboard the 7:15 train, unfortunately it was standing room only. About 20 minutes later the train slowly came to a stop. An announcement was made that elicited a moan from the passengers. After 3 attempts to get the train moving another announcement followed by a louder moan. Being my gregarious self I was able to strike up a conversation with a young woman who spoke English. Apparently we had to wait for another train on an adjacent tract to pull alongside. Any idea when? No. What was I thinking; this was Italy.

Suddenly everyone jumped up and ran for an exit. We had no idea where they were going but we followed them onto a platform down a bunch of stairs, through a tunnel, up a bunch of stairs onto another platform and into a waiting train. We felt like lemmings but hey!

It's was clear we were going to be cutting the time close. When we finally arrived at the Civitavecchia train station it was after 8 but the ship is still tied up. There were no taxis in sight so we ran to a small hotel on the promenade. Could they please call us a taxi to take us to the ship? Nope, the mayor does not allow taxis to run after 6 pm. Seriously!!! We were told to keep walking/running down the promenade and there would most likely be a bus that takes staff to the various ships in port. Off we went. 

Ten minutes later we arrived at the bus but there was no driver insight. Finally I located the guy being amorous with his girlfriend. "Excuse me, we need to get to the M/S Masdam. Soon, soon" he said. Ten minutes later we were off. The ship was still there but the gangway had been taken in. Yikes. Two minutes later the bus driver stopped opened the door and said, "Go". He basically dumped us off in the port. We could see the ship (that's good) but there was a 10' fence around it (that's bad). We see a man standing by a gate in the fence but he said we couldn't go through and pointed away from the ship. We ran that way and found another gate but the guard again pointed us in the opposite direction of the boat as well. Finally we came to another gate where the guard let us through. A guy picked us up in a car and drove us the last distance to the ship. By that time the gangway was out and we were motioned aboard.Whew!

Apparently the Captain just announced we would not be leaving port that night due to high winds.

 

It worked!

The coins we dropped in the pirate's chest did the job. Our 6 days crossing the Atlantic were fairly uneventful though we did have one day when the sea was a bit rough. Thankfully it didn't cause us any problems but that obviously wasn't the case with everyone on the M/S Maasdam. The staff discreetly placed bags by the elevators for those guests that felt a bit queasy moving about the ship.

example of our cabin steward's handy work

Before we left home we had only one concern about this trip......fear of boredom. What the heck would we do during the long sailings across the pond? That question was answered our first night aboard.

Our cabin steward placed a tri-fold pamphlet on our bed next to our towel animal and chocolates. The brochure listed all the next days' activities. Beginning at 7 AM we were offered everything from stretching to trivia to live entertainment. One of our favorite programs on sea days was the Explorer Series. Guest lecturers shared their knowledge of   everything from improv theater to international terrorism. The best by far was Frank Buzzard, the retired chief engineer of the International Space Station. He was fascinating!


I also took advantage of their classes on Windows 10. Apparently I wasn't the only one who had not embraced Microsoft's newest offering. Said computer company sponsored the Digital Workshop. It helped that we had a 30-something instructor with a great personality. Molly gave up her career as a kindergarten teacher to work on Holland America. What a perfect career to prepare her to teach a bunch of gray hairs (ok,so I only have a couple of gray hairs). It also helped that she was a graduate of my husband's alma mater. Go Cougs!

Ready, Set, Go....

     The night before we left St. Maarten, our final port of call in the western Atlantic, our cabin steward left an invitation to the Scallywag Sail Away Ceremony and 2 faux gold doubloons on our bed. Apparently this party was a tradition on the night we set sail across the pond.   
      Our cruise director planned quite an extravaganza. The navigation deck was festooned with flags and the staff were dressed as pirates. It was a very festive atmosphere. Of course the rum punch didn't hurt.
     As we threw our doubloons in the requisite pirates chest I had my fingers crossed. I wasn't taking any chances. I wanted to make doubly sure our next 6 days at sea crossing the Atlantic were smooth.
     This was where the real adventure began....
     
 

Hakuna Matata

I know Disney's Lion King isn't the first thing that comes to mind when you think of a Mediterranean cruise but it's where this story begins.
     We had chosen the open seating option for dinner rather than being obligated to dining  at the same time with the same people every night. The idea being that we'd meet a lot of different people. It sounded good in theory.
     The first night aboard was gala night so everyone was decked out in their finest. It also happened to be Halloween. 

Rafiki

     We headed down to the dining room and waited with another couple for a table. One gentleman looked very dapper in his tux, the other looked like Rafiki, the baboon in the Lion King. He had on a huge, elaborate mask, a black full body leotard and carried a wooden staff.
     Bruce sent me a look that pretty much said what did you get me into! He leaned towards me and whispered, "Who is that?" I shrugged. I had a feeling we'd find out soon enough. Oh boy.

     That was our introduction to Henry. Once his mask came off we learned he and David were on board to celebrate David's 80th birthday. David asked Henry why he didn't wear his tux. I thought his answer made a lot of sense, "I didn't carry this mask all the way from Seattle to leave it packed away."
      I wondered if I needed to rethink the open seating decision then I remembered what hakuna matata stands for....no worries. Besides we only have 49 more dinners to go. How bad could it be?

Wow, I had no idea!

The first rule of perennial cruisers is flaunt it. I'm not referring to couture but something way more outlandish. Cruisers seem to think the rest of us ordinary people care how much time they've spent on the high seas.

Case in point. There was a private, elaborate champagne reception during our first week aboard celebrating a couple's cruising milestone. They were celebrating their 14,000 day cruising! WHAT! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! I'm afraid so. I would have thought they owned the cruise ship by now, but no. They did get their laundry done for free though.

Throughout the cruise we had random people ask us how many cruises we'd been on. When I said this was our first they choked on their breakfast, lunch or dinner. The standard comment was, "You're so brave." "Really, I'd say. We pretty much enjoy everything we do. So there is no reason to think otherwise."

So for the remainder of the cruise people were trying to impress us. But why should we have felt anything more than pity for the woman who said, "At the end of this cruise we'll have been aboard 300 days. I hate being home."Or the woman who'd been on this exact cruise four times. Or the couple who never got off the ship.

Our life is rich; woven of many fabrics. While the cruise was fantastic, I don't see ourselves turning our sole purpose in life over to Holland America, Princess, Norwegian, Windstar, Carnival or any other cruise ship line.

At least not yet.

Timing is everything....

How many times have you heard this old adage? Probably a zillion. Never has this statement been more true than on October 29th.
     Our travel agent arranged for everyone to arrive in Ft. Lauderdale two days before the cruise ship was scheduled to depart. You know, just in case a flight is canceled (not that this ever happens).
     So we arrived on October 28th. The next day we loaded onto a bus and headed out for an air boat ride. We weren't on the road very long before traffic became snarled. Great! As we crept along, traffic came to a standstill parallel to the airport. Someone yelled, "Look, there's smoke coming from that plane on the runway!" Now, if I was the superstitious type I'd turn around and take the 1st plane back home. Pronto! But.....I'm not.
     According to the newspaper the next day a Dynamic Airways plane's engine burst into flames during taxing for takeoff. Apparently there was a fuel leak. Unfortunately, 15 people were injured while evacuating down the emergency chutes. Yikes
     As I said, timing is everything.


    
     

What can I say, I was enchanted...

We have several friends who have taken cruises recently and they all rave about a particular travel agency that specializes in cruises. The owner sends out emails every week with a "special" cruise package highlighted. I signed up for said emails late in the summer but seldom read them.
     Then in September I opened one. I'm pretty sure my Fairy Godmother took aim at that minute and zapped me. Each time I reread the list of cities the cruise would visit, I was overcome with a feeling of enchantment. I didn't breath a word of this to anyone.
     Finally after a couple of weeks of pondering I realized the "enchantment" factor had not abated so I printed the email and sheepishly handed the list to my husband. It took all of 30 seconds for him to utter, "Sounds great. Let's do it." OK
     Next I had to find a house/dog sitter. Did I mention the cruise was 50 days? There is no way I'd board Tucker dog for that long. But where would I find someone responsible that liked Tucker dog and Tucker dog liked back? Hmmm.....
     Monday morning I was at physical therapy and mentioned my dilemma to my therapist. She chimed in, "I bet my daughter would do it". Are you kidding? No she wasn't. I just about flew home with the news but still didn't call and make a reservation. A couple of days later we met the would be house/dog sitter. She was terrific! The next morning I called the travel agency to see if there was room available and to my delight she said, "Yes".
   Three weeks later, our bags packed, we boarded a plane for Ft. Lauderdale.
    

A drum roll please

On our second day towing our trailer westward we decided it needed a name. This was a big deal for us as we don't name inanimate objects. But what to call it? Hmmmm. We tossed some ideas out there but nothing fit. So we pondered it.

Suddenly I shouted, "I've got it! We should name it after the coolest named town we drove through going East.....Belle Fourche, South Dakota." Not only is it the coolest named town but its also the location of our best lunch. The Stadium Sports Grill proclaims to be the "Home of the World Famous Rancher Tips". We can't vouch for the world famous part but we can tell you they were delicious!

We've shortened her name to Belle. It's kinda catchy don't you think.

Finally we meet

After 5 grueling days driving East we finally pulled into Cheyenne Camping Center in Walcott, Iowa. Whew.  While our SUV was taken into the shop to install the electric brakes, load leveler and sway bar we spent what seemed like days going over every little detail of our new toy.

Eventually we made our way out front to be greet our first travel trailer. Hooray, no more sleeping on the ground!

We got Tucker dog comfy, climbed in and headed West.

.

Marching on and on and......

As we pushed our way eastward toward Wolcott, Iowa weather was an ever present companion. I'm not talking about rainbows and lollipop; though that would have been nice. Nope, I'm talking about to hail, high wind and a continuous deluge of rain. Oh yeah, let's not forget the blinding lightening. At times we thought we were driving through a disaster movie set. This wasn't something that happened once or twice. It happened DAILY. We were hoping Moses would drop from the sky and clear a path for us. But no.

You've Gotta Luv Wyoming

I seem to be fairly successful at keeping to posted speed limits. Though I admit I feel like a rebel when I drive on roads with a posted speed of 70 mph. Imagine my shock when I saw the posted speed limit of 80 mph when we were driving through Wyoming. 

Without giving it a second thought I floored it. I shot past rebel straight to speed demon status. YEEHA!!!

Our trip East continues

I did a double-take when I saw an honest-to-goodness cowboy standing in line at the Costco in Sheridan, Wyoming. How did I know he was an honest-to-goodness cowboy? Because he was wearing spurs! I have to admit......I looked around the parking lot for his horse.

My husband had a travel detour in mind that I wasn't privy to until we were mucho miles from home. He said he wanted to see Devils Tower. Apparently my blank stare aptly conveyed my lack of familiarity with said tower. He said, “You know from Close Encounters of the Third Kind?” Again, a blank stare. I'll fess up; I never saw the award winning movie. But I have now seen the tower.

OK, now what?

The end of April my husband purchased a travel trailer. The only conundrum was that we had to go to Iowa to pick the little bugger up.

The original plan was for my husband and Tucker dog to drive to Wolcott, Iowa. I would fly out and drive back with the crew. That way I would only be gone from my Mom (who was in failing health) a few days. That all changed with my Mom's death. So on Sunday, May 31st we took off on a marathon drive half way across the country.

The first night we made our way to Wallace, Idaho. We had three choices of places to stay. We chose The Brooks Hotel. Despite the sign saying "no pets
allowed" they had one room for people traveling with dogs.

When we checked in we were told the building was locked up when the woman working the front desk went home. So we were given two keys; one for our room and the other for the backdoor. So far so good. We went outback to bring Tucker dog in and guess what? The key didn't unlock the door.

Soooo around the building the weary travelers hiked. It turned out the proprietor's Mother was the woman behind the front desk. When I mentioned the key didn't unlock the backdoor Mom muttered, "He's been making his own keys. Here's a key to a different room. I know this one works." So now we had a key to the dog room and room 304.

Only in small town America!