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Watch a Bunch of Dogs Freak Out Over Lemons, Limes

Watch a Bunch of Dogs Freak Out Over Lemons, Limes

Um, yes, we will spend our morning watching this super-adorable supercut of puppies, thank you

If you've ever been to puppy kindergarten or any type of training class for dogs, you'll know that dogs especially hate the smell of citrus. So what happens when you give them a slice of lemon or lime? Hilarity, obviously.

This genius supercut from Tastefully Offensive is exactly what we needed this Thursday morning (it's end of the week push, y'all), with plenty of adorable pups dancing around and freaking out over tiny, tiny slices of lemons. It's amazing.

Of course, not all dogs are averse to citrus, but the scent is often used to dissuade dogs from chewing on objects (like your shoes). As Karen B. London suggests over at The Bark, "To see how your dog feels about these fruits, peel a messy orange so that your hands are covered with the sticky juice and put your fingers near your dog’s nose. If your dog backs away, making a face, then you’ve got a member of the citrus-hating majority. If your dog licks your fingers, then you don’t." Genius. Or, just see if they'll eat a slice of lemon.

Technology News

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Happy Friday from Murphy!

This has been such a weird and long week. Christmas already seems like so long ago, but it was just on Tuesday!

I went back to work the day after Christmas and was the only one in the office. I actually got a bunch of work done + cleaned up my desk, so it was a pretty productive day. Yesterday and today have been just me and one co-worker in the office, so it’s been nice to have some easy days before we hit the ground running in the new year!

I’ve been taking it easy on the running front and working more on pre-hab (glutes, IT band, squats, etc) so nothing major to report there.

I’ll keep this post short and sweet and end it with pictures of Murphy (duh!) and his new favorite toy he got for Christmas. See you all in 2019!

Happy Fourth Of July!

Hope everyone had an exciting and happy 4th of July!

We had a lot of fun in my neck of the woods, with a friend and his kids, over at our home. We didn't buy fireworks this year since I'm such a cheapy and didn't want to spend money on something I'll burn up. My dogs freak out, so I usually spend the evening and the rest of the night under a cocker spaniel and a golden retriever, since they insist on climbing on me when the booms start. Anyhoo, we decided to take the money that we would normally spend on fireworks every year and divide it up three ways, then each of us could do what we wanted with the "fireworks" money. If one of us wanted to buy fireworks, we could. But, each of us decided to do something else with it. Our friends had some fireworks they purchased and decided to light them off in our neighborhood. Which was a lot of fun despite the fact we were fourth of July scrooges.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

What Costa Rica's Water and Toll Booths Have in Common

In parts of Costa Rica, especially where we have lived in Escazu and now further west in Ciudad Colon, there is a serious water problem in the summertime. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise real estate agents will be the first to say, "No! There is no water problem here, where did you ever get that crazy idea?" They lie. Anyway, when we lived in Escazu (San Antonio up the mountain, to be exact-ish), and now in Ciudad Colon, we were/are on the municipal water supply provided by A y A (which stands for Aquaducts and something else beginning with an A). AyA has this brilliant plan to curb water use by simply cutting it off during peak usage hours of the day -- thus we have had no muni water from about 8 in the morning until 3 in the afternoon for about a week, including today (Sunday). This to me seems an incredibly dumb idea -- it does nothing to teach people how to conserve water, it simply keeps them from using it for several hours each day. Then, when the water comes back on, everyone does their laundry, cooking, showering, dishwashing, toilet-flushing, etc. etc. as they would have if the water had been on in the first place. Right now, as I write this, we have no water, yet the guy across the street is watering his exceptionally green lawn. Why? Because he has a well and apparently feels no particular need to conserve water. Conservation? We don't need no stinking conservation!

How does this help anything, really? When I lived in California, especially during the drought years of the 90s, the water company handed out long lists of ways to conserve water (who can forget "If it's yellow, let it mellow if it's brown, flush it down!"), as well as introduced graduated rates for water usage. If you used an average amount of water, you got changed an average rate if you conserved a lot, your water bill really went down and if you used too much, your water bill skyrocketed. Why not implement a similar system in Costa Rica? I can venture two guesses: 1) It's too difficult. Such a system would need to be approved by Congress, undoubtedly, then approved by Sala IV, and on and on into infinity until the country was pumping in desalinated seawater or reclamined grey water. 2) Many people still do not have metered water (can you even believe this?) -- we don't have a meter. We pay the same rate (currently around $5 every month) for using as much water as the farm next door. How is that fair? I would much rather pay a fair rate for the water I use and have access to it 100% of the time. Item #2 contributes to the difficulty in getting item #1 passed. When faced with a difficult situation, Costa Rican government and governmental entities will take the easy route, not necessarily the best route.

What most people do is to get a large water tank installed on their property (we have our own well here, so we don't have a water tank, but I don't know how people around here live only on the muni water supply). When it rains or when AyA decides to turn the water back on, the tank fills up, and then when it is dry or when AyA decides to shut the water supply off, your water simply comes from the tank. So basically no one is conserving, they are just using their "stockpiled" water. This, I predict, will come back and bite Costa Rica in the collective ass in 5-10 years, perhaps even sooner, as the world's clean water supply continues to diminish.

A similar situation can be found on Costa Rica's highways every weekday afternoon, for example, on the highway from San Jose to Escazu and Santa Ana. The toll is 75 colones during most of the day, except at rush hour, when THERE IS NO TOLL AT ALL! Why? There are too many cars! God forbid people actually sit in line at the toll booth, perhaps contemplating their over-dependence on cars or why there are so many single-car drivers crowding the highways during rush hour in the first place. Here's a thought: How about having one lane that is free during rush hour but only open it to buses or carpools (cars carrying two or more riders)? The other lines have to pay an extra fee, say a flat 100 colones rate for everyone, so the toll booth operators do not have to make too much change and the lines of cars can move at a slightly quicker pace. Right now, buses share the lanes with every other car and truck on the road, and there is absolutely no incentive for taking cars off of the road. The air pollution in this country, particularly in San Jose, is unbelievably bad (think Los Angeles before smog controls). It's disgusting. These ideas I've put out there are not new in fact, California did them in some parts of the state last time I drove there. But here in Costa Rica it is a different story. Until the air quality is so bad that the environmental ministry has to order "stay indoors" days will anything be done about the ridiculous number of cars on the road, especially the vast number of single-car drivers (driven by people who do the most complaining about the traffic).

I will hear some people say that I'm comparing apples to oranges, but I don't think that is the case. I'm comparing common-sense ideas for conservation and pollution reduction to knee-jerk reactionary thinking without sufficient prior planning. Yet, I know there isn't a politician out there who will listen, so it makes little difference in the long run. Sigh.

Unused Band Names at 2:00 a.m.

This morning at around 2:00 a.m., as I was lying in bed wide awake, I began, for some as-yet-unknown reason, thinking about names for bands I had thought up in the past (one I even used, briefly). In Love Monkey (which I sincerely hope never goes off the air because I like it so much), Tom Farrel hears odd phrases or words every now and then and he thinks to himself, "Hmmm, that's a good name for a band."

Now you may be wondering what unused band names have to do with Costa Rica, and really it is simply that I was awoken in the middle of the night by someone or other playing rather loud techno music (do people really still listen to that?) and couldn't get back to sleep until around 3:00. When this happens, my mind begins making lists of various and sundry random things -- thus, unused band names. I did, briefly, consider getting up and phoning the police, as people are not supposed to play music that loud after 11:00 without a permit. But I figured it was probably esposo's friend's bar down the street that was playing the music, and since his business has not been the greatest lately (someone was killed during a bar fight there about a month ago), I let it slide. Plus, actually picking up the phone would have meant getting out of bed. Ha. No.

So, here they are, my favorite unused band names:

1. Belf Soup -- One day my friend Manders and I were at a bagel place in Monterey getting some coffee and bagels, and noticed that on the soup of the day one of the "e"s in "Beef" had been partially erased and looked like an "l". We couldn't stop laughing, being silly as we were, thinking how much "belf" sounded like a variation of "barf." If both of us had not been vegetarians, I'm sure we would have ordered the "belf soup" just to be even more idiotic than we were being at the time, which, I can assure you, was pretty idiotic. The soup was actually "belf barley" but that did not sound as good a band name as "belf soup." There you have it, and if you use it, be sure to remember this fascinating story.

2. June Cleaver's Beaver -- I like the double entendre of it, which I think speaks for itself. Punk rock band, anyone?

3. Bankshot -- This one I actually used briefly, when I had a ska band with my friends Tracy on guitar, me on bass, and Patrick singing. We even wrote two songs, but never could find a good enough drummer, and then Tracy had a baby and Patrick moved to Oregon, taking my amp with him (you still owe me $500 Pat, don't think I forgot about it!). Bands. This is a title of an Op Ivy song (originally fronted by the great Tim Armstrong, por supuesto! ), and would be a good name of another ska band.

4. Unholy Alliance -- You may not remember a band called Max Q way back in the early 90s, but I do, because I was always a huge fan of Michael Hutchence (in fact, I first was attracted to esposo because I thought he looked like a cross between Michael Hutchence and Antonio Banderas). He did this solo thing during a break from INXS -- Max Q -- and I just thought that particular song title sounded very much like a goth or metal band. Any takers? Ray?

In this internet age, it would be cool if someone started a website dedicated to unused band names. Sort of like a baby names page -- there have to be hundreds of those out there! A band is a lot like a baby, actually. In the meantime, check out the random Great Name for a Band generator. And stop by The Worst Band Names Ever, which I think is pretty belfin' funny.

3. Stress Reduction Running with Dogs

We have it. Stress. A word that has become ingrained in our lives. Get it out. Stop with the stress. Sure, things happen around us, we have busy lives, and jobs and so much is far from perfect, but there is a simple strategy to reduce it. The most overlooked medicine for stress is exercise.

Go for a run with your dog. It will work wonders for your stress level. And your dog will be super stoked too. Even more reason. It’s easy to smile, let go, feel the peace of life around you when you see how a simple run can be pure bliss for your dog. Yep, like I said before. It rubs off and becomes part of your daily persona.

My Many Wonderful Aunts & Uncles

In honor of National Aunt and Uncle’s Day (Wednesday, July 26), some memories of my many aunts and uncles.

(L to R) J.B., Russell, Johnny, Margie, Eddy, Lena, Tony, Holly, Kinny, Edna, Billy, Ginny

First up, the Kingstons. Grandpa and Grandma Kingston had 12 children. One of them was my dad, of course. I was fortunate to interact with all his brothers and sisters when I was growing up, some more than others. They were spread out from Kuttawa and Eddyville, to Louisville and Indianapolis. In later years some “came home” to Kuttawa, where I was fortunate enough to get to know them better, even though by then I was living in Virginia and only saw them during visits home. Beginning with the oldest, here are some memories. Pardon me if I get the birth order wrong, and forgive me also for including only the “blood” relatives. If I included all the aunts and uncles by marriage I would still be writing this.

Edna–The first of the 12 Kingston children, Edna was for me a beacon for what was possible. When I was just a child she showed an interest in me, always asking about my grades and complimenting me every chance she got. Edna is a person who likes to see all of her family and friends do well. Always attractively dressed, makeup and hair intact, she would chew gum and crack jokes. Edna loves to laugh. She had one of the first Ford Mustangs, which we kids gawked at in awe. When I was still a teen, Edna invited me to come to Louisville for a visit. I made the drive up and right away Edna wanted to take me to the mall and buy me some clothes. We went in one shop, but we couldn’t find a shirt with sleeves to fit my gangly long arms. Apparently Edna didn’t like the snooty look of the salesperson, for she looked at her and said, “We usually have all his clothes tailor-made.” And putting her arm around me she steered me away with a wink. She had my back and it felt good. The next summer Edna and I piled into my VW bug and drove to Clearwater, Florida, to visit some wealthy friends she had made during her successful real estate career. We spent days out on the Gulf of Mexico in their cruiser. What a fantastic time it was. We never had a harsh word or argument. On the way back through Georgia we stopped near Macon at a fruit stand. A little old black man wearing a straw hat was selling peaches. Edna asked him if the peaches were grown in Georgia, and I’ll never forget the way he looked at her and answered, “Yassum, these here peaches wuz raised in Gawja, they wuz picked in Gawja, and iffen you buy ’em they’s gonna be sold in Gawja.” We still laugh about that today. Edna began calling me “Wadie” when I was very young, and still does so today. Always cheerful, always fun, her arms and fingers covered in jewelry, Edna is one in a million.

J.B.–J.B. Kingston, whom Grandma often referred to as “Jake,” lived on a small farm down the road from us on Panther Creek. It was J.B. who hung a goat from a branch one 4th of July weekend, slitting its throat, which drained into a bucket below. That memory, plus another one of Grandpa Kingston and I herding a cow down to meet J.B.’s bull are two of my earliest (and pervasive) memories. From my youngest years I recall J.B. driving by our house on the way to church, which they seldom missed. Later that afternoon we would sometimes join him and his family for lunch at Grandma’s. Always shaved and smartly dressed, his hair slicked back and combed, he and Grandpa would talk farm as they ate. I remember J.B. as a good father and a decent man. He is missed.

Tony–Tony was a big guy with a thick head of dark hair and a beautiful smile. I saw him only at holidays during my younger years, then when I was a teen he moved back to Kuttawa, settling onto a small farm. Tony seemed to me to be an authoritative type of person–decisive, direct and business-minded. He bought and sold property all over and enjoyed doing it. He was living in the Orlando area when Edna and I visited him during our Clearwater vacation. I was impressed with his house and especially that he had a pool. In his later years I saw Tony far too seldom. I lived here and there, as did he, and our paths just didn’t cross. I’m sorry for that.

Ginny–I cannot recall my Aunt Ginny without immediately remembering her laugh. She was perhaps the most joyful of them all. She loved telling jokes almost as much as hearing one. Ginny was one of those “life of the party” types. You couldn’t help but enjoy yourself around her, but a more down-to-earth person never existed. She never put on airs, didn’t give a hoot about being fashionable, and in general believed in letting her hair down. Ginny was the type of person who, when you saw her pull in your driveway, immediately made your day better. Once she came down to our house and we got up a game of baseball. She got so excited when she got a hit and ran “the bases,” which were pieces of cardboard that slid dangerously underfoot on the grass. Another time we all piled in the car and went to Opryland and had a glorious time. I think it’s telling that I don’t have a single picture of Ginny when she didn’t have the biggest grin on her face. What a wonderful legacy to leave.

Holly Jane–Holly was perhaps the most glamorous woman I knew the entire time I was growing up. It is impossible to describe her appearance without using terms like “blue eye shadow,” “gold and silver lame,” “platinum bouffant hairdo,” “clanging bracelets, high heels and sunglasses.” When she breezed in, Hollywood was in the house. (Think Jayne Mansfield.) Like Ginny, Holly liked to cut up and have a good time, but was a bit more reserved. I always liked when the aunts and uncles visited from Indiana, especially Holly. The way she interacted with her brothers and sisters showed the love and closeness the family had growing up. It was always there with her. To her, family was so important.

Billy–Billy was to handsome what Holly was to glamorous. It’s just my opinion, but either one of them could have been in movies. Billy was blessed with the hair, skin, eyes, teeth, bone structure–you name it. I was envious as hell of his looks (still am). Billy also has lived here, there and everywhere. I can’t keep up with all his moves. Like Tony, he has bought and sold properties all over. In the early years Billy lived behind us on Panther Creek. Then he took the family and left. The cousins became acclimated to far-off places, so that I don’t see them anymore. But Billy is back in west Kentucky and loving it. He’s active. He and I like to talk gardening whenever we see each other. (He’s still handsome, too. Some guys have all the luck.)

Lena–Lena lived close enough to us that we saw a lot of her when I was growing up. Before we moved to Panther Creek we lived in “Old” Kuttawa. I remember when I was five and Lena visited at Christmas. I have this vivid mental image of her standing in our kitchen, with a Pepsi bottle in one hand, cigarette in another, laughing uproariously. My next memory is on Panther Creek, me sitting on the edge of a plant bed near her home. Lena showed me how to gently pull the tobacco seedlings out, so as not to break them. Then she put me on a setter and sat beside me, patiently showing me how to put the plants into the machine. Another jokester who liked to cut up, Lena loved being social. I wish I had a dollar for every game she has bowled in her life. When I was staying at Mom and Dad’s in the 90’s, she loved to visit on cold winter nights and play games. During the summer she always stopped to admire my landscaping efforts, on the way up the road to see her “grandbabies.” Mom has told me when she and Dad were struggling to make ends meet in Indianapolis, in the early years, of the times Lena was there to be with her and comfort her. I was just a baby then, and don’t remember, but my own memories of Lena are enough. One in a million? More like one in a billion.

Eddy–Eddy was another handsome Kingston boy. He was a young 20-something when he stayed with our family for a spell. Then he joined the army and we didn’t see much of him for years, though we did visit him in North Carolina. I recall how he sat for hours at a time on furlough, spit-shining those black boots until you could see yourself in them. With a buzz cut and perfect grooming, he could have been a G.I. poster boy. Eddie was a steady man, not given to extremes. I remember how he would help me with my homework in high school. Once we had an argument about the meaning of “bum steer.” (He was right, I was wrong.) Eddie bought a brand spanking new GTO, the reddest of reds with white leather interior, bucket seats, stick shift, just a dream car. The day he bought it he told me to get in and we flew around “the loop.” What a thrill. Eddy moved away to North Carolina and I visited him once on my way through the state. Other than that I didn’t seem him much before he passed. I hope I thanked him for helping me with my homework, and for that ride in the GTO.

Johnny–When I think of Johnny (Margie’s twin), my first thought is how much he loves kids. Even today it’s practically all he talks about. Whenever I see him he wants to tell me how well his are doing. When I was little Johnny was always eager to take me along wherever he went. I remember he had an old car with push-button gears. He and dad were going out with a flashlight, hunting possums or something. It was pitch black outside, but he said, “Come go with us, Wade.” So I got in the back and we hit some back roads and it was storming to beat all get out. We got on one old back road and was soon stuck in the mud. Johnny pushed the “reverse” button, then the “drive” button, then reverse, then drive, and rocked back and forth trying to get us out of the mud. In the end Dad had to get out and push until we got out of that hole. Johnny is one of those people who always knows you when he sees you and wants to catch up. When I picture him, to this day I see him in a blue uniform shirt with the white patch with his name on it, from the time he worked at the bread company in Paducah. I think of all her children, Johnny looked the most like Grandma.

Margie–When I was five I started first grade. Mom was pregnant and about to give birth to my sister, and Margie came to stay with us. She was still a teenager. She dressed me and fed me when Mom wasn’t up to it, and on that first day of school she did something else. I left school because it was hot and I couldn’t reach the water fountain. (Or so I said.) I came home and went directly into the kitchen, where we always kept a pitcher of cold water. I was standing in the door of the fridge when I heard Margie behind me. “What are you doing home! Don’t you know the whole school is calling here looking for you! Your momma can’t be upset right now!” And she picked up a stick and switched the back of my legs all the way back to school. We laughed about that for years. When we moved to Panther Creek Margie was staying at Grandma’s. Sometimes when I visited she would be sitting at her dressing table, makeup and perfume spread out. She had beautiful light brown hair and a petite figure. Sort of a young Jodie Foster. And fortunately for many of us, she inherited Grandma’s baking skills. Man, oh man. Most of my aunts (and uncles) are good cooks, but Margie never met a cake or pie she couldn’t master. Invariably, at holidays, if someone asked, “Who made this wonderful dessert?”, the answer would be “Margie.” Sweet, gentle Margie. I miss her.

Kinny–Kinny was the youngest of Grandma’s brood, and still living at home when we moved in near them on Panther Creek. Skinny, with blonde hair, my earliest memories are of him riding past our house on the tractor. He helped Grandpa with the tobacco, hay, corn or whatever else was growing. I moved away to Virginia in 1978. A couple of years later I got a phone call from Kinny. He had become a truck driver and was in Roanoke. Would I meet him for breakfast? He was sitting in a Waffle House less than a mile from me. I met him and we had breakfast together. He may have been lonely and missing home. I know it certainly meant a lot to me that he took the time to call and visit, the only aunt or uncle to ever do so. Kinny is another of the kids with a good sense of humor, which he is still blessed with.

And now, for Mom’s brothers and sisters, my Hammons aunts and uncles:

Maggie Hammons Ausenbaugh with little sister, Mary Lou

Maggie–Maggie was the eldest of Grandma Hammons’ children (Mom was the youngest). A deeply spiritual woman, Maggie was pastor of her own church for years. It was Maggie who drew us along with her to visit churches all over west Kentucky and southern Illinois. I remember visiting Maggie before she left Between the Rivers. She kept such a neat house, with shiny pine walls and little nick-knacks that would never survive our rowdy household. After she was forced to leave BTR she settled near “old” Eddyville, making a lovely home in a hollow that was like a little Eden to me. On the one side of a creek was her home, then you could walk across a wooden bridge to a small frame house under big shade trees. It was like something out of a fairy tale. She always had some kind of wild animal she had rescued, and there were ducks, chickens, or a goose or two, as well as other farm animals. She would sit for hours and help her husband string his trout lines, and could quote the gospel like no other. She had a Bible passage ready for any situation. Gentle, sweet, but fiery in her spiritual rhetoric, she had a tendency to make short, clipped, emphatic pronouncements when speaking. Maggie also had a vitality about her. When she had heart bypass surgery we visited her in a Nashville hospital. It was the day after surgery. Maggie was sitting up in the hospital bed asking when she could go home. Hearty stock. An amazing woman.

Louie–For all the years I knew him Louie lived with his family in Alton, Illinois. They visited us, we visited them. Louie was another of that generation who believed in good grooming. The man’s reddish-blonde hair was always in place he was neatly shaved and smelling of cologne. His clothes were clean, pressed, and his shoes held an added surprise. He almost always carried a large amount of cash in them. Once he was visiting us and sent someone to the store to get something. I laughed when he took off a shoe and extracted a wad of 100-dollar bills. (Louie hid money in other places. After he died his family found several thousand dollars in an old, inoperable riding mower, in a shed back of their house.) It was always a pleasure when Louie visited because he would be driving the latest model of car. We would each get to take a ride in it and check it out. He was always asking us kids to come and stay the summer with them in St. Louis. One year I took him up on it, though I only spent a week. He was a kind and generous host. I was in the hospital room with Louie when he died, and that was a hard thing.

Dewie–I don’t remember Dewie, though Mom has a few photos of him. He drowned in Alabama while working on a barge in 1956. Some say he fell off, others insist he was pushed. We will never know. I tell the story in my book about my grandmothers, so I won’t retell it here. I know that his untimely passing grieved my grandparents for the rest of their lives.

Willie–Willie, with his thinning reddish hair, blue eyes and rakish sense of humor, was perhaps the most likable of all Mom’s brothers. Willie was lean, with whipcord muscles from chopping firewood. And I cannot to this day picture him without rolled up sleeves into which cigarettes had been tucked. He, like me, was a voracious reader. Whenever I visited him he would have stacks and stacks of paperback books (some of them risqué) and he would let me borrow them. It was through Willie (don’t tell Mom) that I first read about actual sex, though it was probably tame by today’s standards. He had a guitar, which he would strum and play, and he was pretty good at it, too. I could listen for hours. And when he wasn’t singing you could hear him whistling somewhere.

George–George was perhaps the most sensitive of Mom’s brothers. Though mostly upbeat, he could be moody at times. Like Willie, he also sang and played guitar, but he was a self-taught artist as well. He could sit and draw a deer or bunny for us kids, or anything else we asked for. He was the best gardener–with gigantic tomatoes. How he got anything to grow in those rocks of Pea Ridge I’ll never understand, but he drew forth squash, melons, and many other vegetables. He tended the chickens and always had a dog or two around. I always felt that had George gotten a better education he would have been very successful. He had that type of inquisitive mind and varied interests.

Willie Hammons holding Wade Kingston

Bedford–Bedford always went by his nickname, “Rabbit.” Rabbit was the brother nearest to Mom in age, so they grew up as the closest. In his later years he visited her often, driving some old jalopy with his little white terrier in the seat beside him. He was a small man who probably never weighed more than 120 pounds his entire life. Rabbit liked people but preferred living alone with his dog. He had a terrific sense of humor, and could be very funny. I still imitate the way he said “shit” when irritated, which came out like “shee-yut”. I can hear him say it as I write this. He loved us kids. I almost never called home what Mom didn’t say “Rabbit was asking about you.” He would even get angry and rail at any perceived slight or hardship we kids had endured. But in his heart, Rabbit was a gentle soul, much-loved by us all and sorely missed.

George Hammons in uniform

What a blessing to have had so many wonderful aunts and uncles. I love them all.

“Rabbit,” Mary Lou and George with kittens

Watch a Bunch of Dogs Freak Out Over Lemons, Limes - Recipes

Post by Rossco » Wed Oct 14, 2009 1:43 am

Re: neighbors cat

Post by BuckNAze » Wed Oct 14, 2009 1:52 am

Re: neighbors cat

Post by Emily » Thu Oct 15, 2009 11:07 pm

Re: neighbors cat

Post by beaglewalkerhunter4 » Thu Oct 15, 2009 11:19 pm

Re: neighbors cat

Post by Tom White » Fri Oct 16, 2009 1:26 am

I used to hunt bear close to town. True story. I once had the hounds tree a bear beside the window of a cabin , the window was open and a couple was in bed. Never did understand what he was saying as I leashed dogs and WENT. Another time had em bay up a bear under a deck of a cabin.People screemin, dogs bayin ,bear runnin at us, bumpin my head on the deck. Finally got em leashed and drug away from there.

P.S. Most of my true stories actually happened.

Re: neighbors cat

Post by Ike » Fri Oct 16, 2009 2:11 am

From time to time I've had cats travel around the cedar fence that surrounds my backyard, even had one tom cat that would lay on top the fence across the yard from the hounds and tease them.

One day I left my little Rodo loose in the backyard and one of those cats came prowling around the outside of the fence, not knowing she was loose. I had gone to town for a minute and returned to hear that little Rowen dog treeing in the neighbor's weeping willow tree. Yea, she must have jumped on a dog house and then leap over the top of that six foot fence and surprised the hell out of that cat, and was high in the tree face barking it when I arrived.

Another time Rowen and Ryan were just pups and a slat was down on the fence. It was early one Sunday morning and I let them off their chains t play in the backyard. I stepped out the back door and could hear them open and leave through the fence. Well they caught the neighbors cat up under the finder of his old Ford pickup truck, and were just going to town on that cat. I ran over there hoping they didn't stretch that thing and have witnesses (like one of the kids) watch the deal go down.

But no one was home and so I tried to gather them up. Well that little Rowen has always been a smart dog and she'd run around the truck and start treeing again. Finally the cat saw daylight between the hounds and popped out running like the devil was after it and climbed on top of a storage shed. Both those hounds were right on it's tail and locked up treeing hard on the cat. Nowdays I load dogs through my garage with the doors shut.

Re: neighbors cat

Post by B-N-Trees » Fri Oct 16, 2009 3:11 am

Last April the wind blew and drifted piles of snow onto my property and it piled pretty deep in some areas. It was a nasty day, the kind of day a fellow should hunker down and keep the fire going. But I had a meeting in town and my wife wanted to go shopping. As we pulled out of the drive I looked over to the dog kennel and committed to her that I was concerned that the snow would drift up in the kennel enough for the dogs to get out. But then I thought even if it did they'd stay curled up in their dog box and be fine. A couple hours later I was in my meeting when I received a call from a number I didn't recognize so I ignored it. Then a few minutes later they called back and again I ignored the call. never know those telemarketers can be persistent. Then a third time they called back, this time I excused myself to take the call. Sure enough it was my neighbor up the road from me. He said I got two of your hounds here with me. I was out feeding my horses when I saw them go hauling past my place. He said at first I dismissed it but then they started treeing on a big cottonwood behind my place. So I went over to see what was going on. When I got over to there I was surprised to see two dogs out on a day like this but they had a big coon in the tree. I pulled them off and put them in the barn for you.

I mentioned that I had a third dog, but he said there were only two and from his description I thought it was my Redbone and Walker who got out. He was good enough to go check the kennel just to rule that out. I left my meeting early and hurried home. On the way he called back and said the other dog was in her box. When I got to his place I put the story together. It turned out it was my English Redtick and Redbone pup who escaped to go hunting without me. Back at the kennel the snow was drifted over six feet of fence and the dog box was blown full of snow. Except for the Walkers hers was turned so it didn't fill full of drifts. I spent an hour shoveling there pen back down to ground level.

A guy has got to be proud of his dogs when they tree the right critters even when your not around. could have been a house cat I'd been fine with that too. Now where they found a coon on a day like that I have no idea. We were at the end of our lion season and we had hunted every snow storm up until that point so they must have felt that since there was snow on the ground that they should go hunt'n. And when they treed they figured I'd I be along soon to shoot it out for them anyway. I can only imagine what they must of thought when a stranger showed up and hauled them to his barn. They were probably bewildered why he didn't even congratulate them or shoot the critter

Dragon Quill

Last book, despite its flaws, actually had one of the more coherent and workable plots I’ve seen. This book is the usual disaster, only worse because it’s a detective story so you’re supposed to have some clue what’s going on before the end.

Let’s just consider the central conceit (okay, first let’s pretend the central conceit isn’t “haha i got to call a woman a swear word! it’s a pun lol.”), which is that there’s werewolf killings but when Harry tries to investigate it there ends up being a giant pileup of all the different types of werewolf by amazing coincidence.

This actually could work if we give a connection between them.

Let’s take the lycanthropes. They’re dumb as-is but we could repurpose them so instead of saying they have rage spirits that are bestial therefore they’re actually beast spirits, they’re just animal-spirit people. We even just learned souls exist, so why not otherkin it up? And as dangerous as they are as individuals, they’re the danger of a wild animal, something unpredictable and anxious and willing to lash out – you know, the kind of thing humans put down for being a danger. They band together because they’re on the same wavelength, and they’re trying to fix or self-medicate or whatever with the shapeshifting – not to wolves, which have the same damn problem, but to dogs, which are not only more stable but capable of reading people. Lycanthrope/weredogs still don’t actually like hanging around humans, but they’re better wired for such complex concepts as “friendly smiles” and “pointing at objects” and “not flipping the fuck out at everything new”. Of course, the difference between a wolf and a really wolfy looking dog is pretty academic when all you have to go on is something with canine teeth ripped people apart, and it’s not like they were turning into tiny yapdogs.

These are the people Harry sees hanging out with Tera, so he doesn’t have the whole “aww theys baby nerds being sillies” nonsense babble and we don’t have the creepy sense that these were originally highschoolers that Harry’s leering at. The fact they don’t attack but disappear (you know, that thing basically any animal not prevented by physical barriers or helpless offspring prefers to do) is the main reason Harry advises against doing anything just yet, he figures it’ll just put them on higher alert and make them harder to find. We’ll keep Harry’s insistence they’re not human but we’ll actually remember that his soulgaze is a you-must-be-this-human-to-ride thing, so Harry can’t get confirmation they weren’t involved, and his speculation that this makes them fair game for magic murder will be contrasted by the fact they later save his stupid ass.

The lycanthropes not being directly involved actually works if you look at it from the viewpoint that they’ve always been there and it’s just no one cared because they actually aren’t that dangerous if left alone. The red herring of it is fair so long as Harry makes a point of noticing they’re not recent arrivals and yet there’s no sign they’ve killed anybody before. He could speculate that maybe the old leader is losing control of his gang, perhaps to the new woman, Tera, and Harry could explain without a sidetrack of frothing MRAing that although pack fighting is rare very old wolves are eventually deposed and newcomers are most likely to do so. Then we just have to add that the werewolf hunt is affecting them so they now have a stake in it, to avoid the other problem of them having no actual tie to the main plot. Also, they’re terribly high-strung and on the margins of society already, so they’re going to be even more unhappy about an unstoppable apex predator on a rampage than everyone else.

The hexenwolves should be the only killer. Look, it’s really unlikely MacFinn has security cameras proving he was in his circle each night. There’s no point in sabotaging the circle and releasing an unstoppable rage monster, especially since this isn’t the Harry Potter only-attacks-humans version so they have no protection against it themselves. It also serves to inform anyone who actually believes in this stuff that he’s being used as a patsy. What are they getting out of it? Just kill a bunch of people and then be all “hey this guy has motive also I hear he’s a werewolf” and you’re done. Better yet, by not releasing him there’s no worry that after he kills people the police will notice the bite marks differ in some way and realize they’re dealing with two different werewolf-style killers. The broken-circle effect is accomplished fine when the police make the mistake of bringing him in – in fact, all the FBI has to do is claim he had motive for it, bring him in, and he’ll wolf out and convict himself. We know the Chicago police seem to have some system of dealing with magic stuff even when they can’t admit it, so this would probably trigger whatever manner of falsifying evidence they normally use while the FBI can continue insisting they don’t even believe in magic so can’t possibly be werewolves. If Harry has to get a warrent out for his arrest, have the guy arrested a day in advance, Harry tries to sneak him out and gets caught but manages to escape alone. Or, since the point seems just to be all OMG MURPHY TENSION, have him try to sneak the guy out but he turns ragewolf and afterward no one’s sure if Harry was trying to stop this or is the one who did it.

Now, a problem is that he turns back to human during the day, so it’d have been possible to bring him back to the circle after the first wolfy demonstration. But supposedly these aren’t movie werewolves, and plenty of historic werecreatures, including the one the author picked here, do not change back during the day but are werewolves for the duration. (Maybe the circle isn’t supposed to keep him in, maybe it’s to protect him from the curse.)He’s an unstoppable wolf monster until the waning moon rises, with the only good news being he’s likely to spend the days hidden asleep rather than rampaging nonstop. (Or maybe he’s an unstoppable wolf monster for good/the foreseeable future, since the original legend has people stuck as a wolf for years.)

We end up with hexenwolves do the killing framing a loup-garou while lycanthrope-dogs freak out and a wolf that turns into a human tries to handle it. None of them are movie werewolves and none of them are proper wolves either. All of them are involved. None are aware of how many of them are involved – FBI know about themselves and the loup-garou, who in this version is the only person they’re trying to frame. Tera, MacFinn, and the lycanthrope-dogs are all aware of each other, but some of the pack disappeared after the killings, and no one’s sure if it was because a couple of them actually did it or if it’s just fear. Marcone, meanwhile, figures it’s just one werewolf because come on, like there’d be a werewolf clusterfuck when there’s never been a single one around before this.

We sadly miss out on the ultra-vanilla college shapeshifters being boring as all fuck, but sometimes that’s the price you have to pay. Instead, perhaps a point could be made that we were directly told regular human shapeshifting really isn’t worth it and that could be an actual clue that the shapeshifters aren’t human and are doing it to get something else out of it.

While we’re here, maybe not have Tera fucking MacFinn? Maybe she’s just involved because this benefits her. Harry could spend the whole book then legitimately suspicious of her motives now that love is off the table, and then at the end Morgan shows up and tells Harry that god damn you idiot, she’s not a Nevernever thing with alien reasoning. she’s just some magic-using animal, that’s a thing, were you not paying attention, no shit a wolf wants a wolf sanctuary.

“But – but she can talk!” Harry whines.

“She shapeshifted herself a human brain, of course she can talk! It’s just like selkies, they’re still just seals!”

(Harry will have earlier compared her to a selkie while explaining those are an example of Nevernever impossible alien monsters that happen to transform, because hey, remember that thing about his education getting cut off early?)

If we’re trying to stick more closely to the plot…urgh.

Okay, so here’s a thought that occurred to me while thinking about why the hell was Kim naked. There’s no given reason because the author just wanted to talk about a sexy corpse. So why?

Harry sees her dead. He tells us that it’s her and about her getting torn up, then he says out loud, “She was naked,” which is the last damn straw for Murphy but his internal narration goes on to be all, It doesn’t actually do anything to make spells better, she knows it doesn’t do anything, it’s just a superstition… He looks around and works out that Kim was trying to get the third circle to catch and it wasn’t working. There’s salt scattered around, herb powder, crystals, etc. She stripes naked as a last ditch attempt rather than running for it, it doesn’t work and she dies. We’re privy to all this but as usual, everyone else isn’t and Harry comes off as a horrible person to them.

Prior to this, Harry fucking told her how to do the circle, with the warning that it was really hard to get the focus right to activate it and made her promise she wouldn’t summon anything without making sure she could activate the circle – maybe even some magic-enforced oath that of course doesn’t trigger because of course she isn’t summoning anything. Unfortunately, the circle wasn’t sabotaged last month. It was just wrecked by our spellwolves to get him to start rampaging (they were supposed to take out Marcone the day before, but only got his bodyguard) and so Kim had no time to test anything.

So what Harry can tell from this is whoever was in the circle originally wanted to be there, because they stuck around while Kim repeatedly tried to get it to work. This isn’t a demon summoning. It must be some transformative effect. And it must be a really nasty one, because Kim didn’t leave to save herself, which means she must have thought it getting out was worse than her dying. There’s no attempt to lock the doors, so Harry guesses that it can break through any non-magical barrier, either as an actual magic ability or because it’s got some sort of Hulk-level power.

We cut the part where Harry already knows it’s all werewolves. He doesn’t think anything of the moon because the idea of moon phase controlling werewolves is a recent thing and he’s out of touch with popular culture. When he sees disembowled people and paw prints, his associations are vampires and fae, and he brushes off werewolves as pretty much not a thing when Murphy mentions it. The hint the FBI are secretly evil isn’t when they encourage him toward the lycanthropes in the hopes of getting him killed in a stupid, stupid plan, it’s when the supposedly anti-magic guys seem oddly supportive of his masterfully written “probably fae assholes, maybe vampires idk there’s a lot of vampires and they’re scary, also demons can look like anything but they’re hard to summon so like, probably not, maybe? if the problem just goes away and also you find some headless guy, it was definitely demons though” report for Murphy.

In Harry’s defense, proper spellwolves, after all, are just transformed people, they wouldn’t have any more inclination toward tearing out someone’s guts with their teeth than anyone else. The FBI, unfortunately, are not tapping into proper devilpact spell powers for transformation, they’re tapping into berserker powers for major transformation which is not supposed to be a thing (and perhaps, like last book done properly, a point would be made about this being a new sort of magic that the old guard isn’t expecting or even aware of). For that matter, traditional spellwolves are supposed to be wizards already, thus why I keep calling them spellwolves, with the human supplying some of the energy, and yet these guys are pure muggle, and that’s why the rage spirit is needed to power this. I would also say that they’re not even properly turning into wolves but the wolfman look, just so Harry can be that much more wrong about his not-like-the-movies bit. Anyway, anyone who knows anything about berserker powers would know to tie it to bears (berserker+predator that chases animals for days doesn’t end well for anybody), and Harry isn’t aware that popular culture has narrowed down shapeshifting to just wolves (because he doesn’t fucking watch TV) so magic newbies like the FBI will default to that.

As such, Harry doesn’t work out this is the werewolf book until Kim, when he remembers that also, cursing people to turn into animals is a thing and sometimes they’re buffed to be unstoppable furry murder. He will then claim to be sorta right on the basis it’s a fae curse but only get partway through his explanation before Murphy cuffs him, oblivious to the fact he sounds like he’s backpeddling to hide his obvious involvement and attempt to mislead the police.

Basically, a lot of the elements of this could work, but they all have to be completely rearranged.

Anyway! We’re now going to transition to doing Unwholly, and its Friday slot will be taken up with Children of the Dragons: Will They Ever Find the +1 Sword of Legend. because I just read this and I’m doing Unwholly, we’re doing funtime fantasy garbage you Dresden-voting bastards and you’re going to like it.

But first……….JANUARY COMES. And so it shall be pokemon times. This month will finish off with non-me/sockpuppet because all is me posts, then it’s reviewing and author explanations/frothing madness to welcome in the new year.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008


Well I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving tomorrow! I'll be feasting with my awesome family. I can't wait. I don't see everyone often enough!
The layout above is from the November Creating Keepsakes. I love it. The title letters are embossed with a mixture of black and cinnamon spice. They smell just like autumn! Brodey's cute face will also be in the April Creating Keepsakes. Got that email yesterday!
Well I'm off to clean house! I can't stand to leave if my house isn't in order!
Happy Thanksgiving.

Dicking Bimbos Since March 2009

Tampa Bay at Atlanta 1:00 pm FOX Georgia Dome
Chicago at Washington 1:00 pm FOX FedEx Field
Dallas at Philadelphia 1:00 pm FOX Lincoln Financial Field
New England at N.Y. Jets 1:00 pm CBS MetLife Stadium
Buffalo at Miami 1:00 pm CBS Sun Life Stadium
St. Louis at Carolina 1:00 pm FOX Bank of America Stadium
Cincinnati at Detroit 1:00 pm CBS Ford Field
San Diego at Jax 1:00 pm CBS EverBank Field
San Francisco at Tenn 4:05 pm FOX LP Field
Houston at Kansas City 4:25 pm CBS Arrowhead Stadium
Baltimore at Pittsburgh 4:25 pm CBS Heinz Field
Cleveland at Green Bay 4:25 pm CBS Lambeau Field
Denver at Indianapolis 8:30 pm NBC Lucas Oil Stadium

Minnesota at N.Y. Giants 8:40 pm ESPN MetLife Stadium

Looks like it’s just you and me this morning, Cyn. Wanna sit on the couch in our jammies and eat bacon while watching old RoadRunner and Bugs Bunny cartoons?

In your honor, I am donating platelets today.

I hope like hell a Democrat gets them. Maybe it will help improve their brain function.

But mostly because I’m sure it would piss them off if they knew their life was saved by a greedy, selfish, evil conservative.

I’ll leave you and XBrad to your, um, celebration…

Wiser’s story about the large ballet instructor on the last thread reminded me of the funniest radio call I ever heard.

We had just landed, trying to taxi to the gate at O’Hare. It was a nightmare, storms on the east coast had closed most of the airports and there was a carpload of planes that were off the gates and had nowhere to go.

The Ground controller said: ‘Listen up guys, this whole thing is like a big fat lady ballet: Everyone keep moving, take it slow and look out for each other. We’re going to get through this.’

At the time United offered a feature called ‘channel 9’, where passengers could listen in to ATC communications. The fact that we were laughing at the same time as the passengers really weirded out the FA’s.

Happy 21st birthday Cyn!
Now you will be able to drink……………legally.

So you’re saying Cyn can’t spell?

Beat the chirruns extra today to celebrate.

Probably getting the birthday sex out of the way before football starts.

Was out making cynnamon rolls with cream cheese icing.

There’s football on today? Baseball season continues on Wednesday.

Poor Prince went for the interference call. He chose poorly

These Cynrolls are a work-in-progress but damn they’re good. Making them with Bisquick and Spenda so a bunch fewer carbs, but still a bit dry in the convect-microwave.

God the Cowgirls look awful in Philly

I flipped on NE at NYJ a few minutes ago and saw Jets ahead, and thought, “End times here already”?

>>>God the Cowgirls look awful in Philly

Great. So basically all of the teams I root for are sucking hind tit.

I think I’ll make some of those with the leftover sourdough starter, cyn.

That’s it. I need to add lard to the Cynrolls!! Thanks, Scott!

Ooooo weee niiice – thanks, TiF!

Yup, still less painful than watching the Jags.

To answer your question from yesterday, BC, my Axeman is Type 1, diagnosed about 14 months ago.

To answer your question from yesterday, BC, my Axeman is Type 1, diagnosed about 14 months ago.

So still pretty new to it. How’s he doing? They put him on a pump?

He’s doing well, thank you A1C was 6.1 yesterday. No major incidents so far *knocks on wood*.

He wasn’t quite ready, taking it all in I think, so we’re just now looking at a pump. He’ll be 13 in Feb.

Speaking of birthdays, when’s yours so I can add you to the Bday Tab. July, right?

He’s doing well, thank you A1C was 6.1 yesterday. No major incidents so far *knocks on wood*.
He wasn’t quite ready, taking it all in I think, so we’re just now looking at a pump. He’ll be 13 in Feb.

Wow. That’s incredibly low. Good for him.

The incidents will happen, there’s no avoiding it. The best thing to do is prepare yourself for them. It’s hard. Over the last 27 years there have been so many times where I look back and go, “The signs were there, why didn’t I see it?”

I’ve avoided anything catastrophic like passing out from a low. I’ve had a couple really bad highs due to illness.

I think the hardest part to try and explain to people is that it isn’t a science. Trying to balance blood sugar, meals, activity, insulin, etc is like walking a high wire with no net.

Speaking of birthdays, when’s yours so I can add you to the Bday Tab. July, right?

Afraid to ask how you know that. But yes ma’am, July 15th.

Over the last 27 years there have been so many times where I look back and go, “The signs were there, why didn’t I see it?”

Meh – hindsight is always 20/20.

As much as that type of diagnosis sucks, though, sometimes it’s a relief to finally have an “answer” for everything that came before.

Cyn my first college roomie was a type one kid. He had an emergency sugar stash.. OJ, Snickers. Coached me on how to help him if shit went haywire but I never had to do it.

Meh – hindsight is always 20/20.

Yeah, part of it is the nature of the disease. Confusion is absolutely caused by low blood sugar. My old endo described it as someone pinching off the gas line in a car, things are gonna start faltering and stuttering and not working.

I have weird ones. Sometimes my lips or tongue feel kind of numb. Once I had double vision. That shit was freaky.

I’ve had a couple really bad highs due to illness.

We’ve only hit the 400s once (other than when he was first diagnosed), and that was a tad scary, but no catastrophic for us either. Yet.

Trying to balance blood sugar, meals, activity, insulin, etc is like walking a high wire with no net.

Ain’t that the truth. Some days, it’s like a freaking crap shoot.

>>Afraid to ask how you know that.

She can look into a man’s soul, BCock.
Once she looked into the devil’s soul. He hid in a closet for a week.

You birfday is IN THE TAB.

Dave, we’ve had the Axeman carry what I call a go-bag (mini sling bag) since the first day home from the hospital: his testing shit, the emergency Glucagon shot, a box of apple juice, mini-Slim Jims, and a crapton of Smarties.

This new pump dealie that his endo-doc has suggested is brand spanking new with continuous testing. He never tests enough for my satisfaction/peace of mind, but hey… he’s 12 and a boy, so there you go.

BC, have they screened you for Celiac Disease? It appears to occur in a statistically significant number of people with Type I Diabetes (, don’t know if it’s a standard test now or not.

We’ve only hit the 400s once (other than when he was first diagnosed), and that was a tad scary, but no catastrophic for us either. Yet.

My worst was two years ago. I got a stomach bug. Hit me hard and fast. I didn’t realize my blood sugar was climbing. I was just puking and puking. Finally let the wife take me to the hospital. I walk in, sit down, go through the whole triage thing, walk back to my room, talking to nurses, etc. They start checking vitals and blood sugar. And all of the sudden people are freaking out. Now there’s like 3 nurses and a doc in my room.

Doc starts questioning me, “How did you get here?”

“No, how did you get to this room?”

*getting pissed* “I got out of the car and walked in. Why?”

“Because your blood sugar is 700 and your BP is 60/20. You’re currently at extremely high risk for a stroke, a heart attack, seizure and/or coma.”


God the weather here is friggin gorgeous.

TiFW, I have no idea if I was tested at some point when I was a kid. But def not as an adult. I don’t have any of the symptoms they’re talking about, so I think I’m good.

*hugs the everlovin stuffin out of Cyn*

you’re on this shit. Good job. I have a good friend who’s 56, had it diagnosed when he was 11. He manages the thing just fine.

“Because your blood sugar is 700 and your BP is 60/20. You’re currently at extremely high risk for a stroke, a heart attack, seizure and/or coma.”

A bunco friend of ours was doing routine check at the VA he’s been T1 for a long time now. He did the fasting blood test, got looked over and left. They called him about 20 minutes later and asked if he was okay, how he felt, and how he got home (he’d driven himself to and from the VA).

His blood sugar was 34. HA!

He never tests enough for my satisfaction/peace of mind, but hey… he’s 12 and a boy, so there you go.

BC, they’re checking your blood for the Celiac, and your thyroid too. I just found that out yesterday during the doc visit.

Yep. It’s weird Cyn. There have been times where I’ve felt awful and thought “Damn, how low is it?” Check and it’s in the 60s. Then there have been times where I’m thinking, “Ok, need to grab something to eat here shortly, but no worries.” And it’ll be in the 40s. Damn annoying.

I will tell you this Cyn, and I didn’t know this until recently, he can show signs of a low without it actually being low.

If, for some reason, he has a sudden drop in bs, he can still show symptoms.

Like say his bs is 150 and he suddenly drops to 90, it can be like dropping from 115 to 55.

They’re pretty sure that’s what happened when I got the double vision. Cause the bs was 80 when they checked it.

*hugs Dave back cops an assfeel*

I don’t have any of the symptoms they’re talking about, so I think I’m good.

The reason that 97% of people who have CD don’t know that they have it?
Because only 3% of people with CD have the “typical” symptoms…..

You birfday is IN THE TAB.

Ha! Thanks Cyn. Guess that makes me like official and shit.

BC, they’re checking your blood for the Celiac, and your thyroid too. I just found that out yesterday during the doc visit.

He doesn’t feel the lows like he used to, at all, which is why I’d like him to test more frequently, but again: boy. I factor his lunch so he runs high at school and that’s worked well since he doesn’t like to test or snack in front of the other kids.

It’s cray-cray: that little bit of walking around and brain use at school makes such a difference. Over fall break when he lazed around, his numbers were through the roof.

Guess that makes me like official and shit.

The foliage is spectacular this year.

Zowwwwieeee – thanks Beasnnsses! I think I even have some zipties to keep him in that tub.

Axeman is lucky to have you for his Mom ♥♥♥

Yup. Makes no sense sometimes Cyn. If he doesn’t have one already, find a good nutritionist. Especially when he’s ready to head off to college.

I met with mine about halfway through freshman year. She goes “Ok, let’s talk about drinking.”

“Look, I don’t care about any of the legality of it and all that crap. My job is to make sure you understand how what you eat or drink affects you as a diabetic. Ok? So, let’s talk about drinking and diabetes.”

Like say his bs is 150 and he suddenly drops to 90, it can be like dropping from 115 to 55.

The meters – you gotta factor anywhere from 10-15% off. He’s been at 100 but felt low, so I tell him to eat. No matter what, just eat it’s not going to blow the curve all that much and better safe than sorry.

He actually THREW a spelling bee that he was in representing his class because he didn’t have time to test. Little stinker. That’s when we went to the “screw it–just eat” mantra.

*pushes Scott into a giant pile of leaves and gives him “The Leaf Bagger”*

Beasn – that pic was on my “short list” (along with an oh-so-modest shot of Mark Harmon)……

*winks, does finger-gun-pointy thing*

Funny you should mention a nutritionist… he asked last night what a good A1C number was I tried to reassure him that his doc said his was fine, but he insisted, so I said something in the 5s was probably excellent. He wants to aim for this now! *does a mom fist pump*

Do you have a pump, Brent?

5’s are non diabetic range. That would be insanely good. 6’s is excellent. I’ve been upper 6’s for a couple years now and my doc is pleased.

No, I don’t. Pumps started to become commercially available, and popular, about the time I went to college. I had a couple docs that pushed for me to get one. I was very active. (Baseball scholarship in college) I was concerned about the practicality of having one with that level of physical activity. I said over and over that I would consider it if they found someone of a similar age and activity level for me to talk to.

I currently take injections at meal times to cover what I eat and I take an injection of a long lasting type of insulin every night.

I figure, it’s working, why screw with it.

Oh, and Cyn? My worst A1c’s were age 13-16. Puberty is a bitch on blood sugars. Hormones flying all over the place have a huge impact. Just ride it out as best you can and then things will settle back down.

Novolog and Levemir for him too.

He’s not an athletic kid so I think the pump has some good potential for him. I’ve talked with several folks on it one loved it and has had it for years, the other not so much. It’s worth a shot anyways.

Good to know on the puberty – I had suspected we’d see some fluctuations and I’m starting to see a bit now, but nothing major.

*crosses fingers he stays in honeymoon period through puberty*

Who am I kidding – I’ll probably have to kill him with all those hormones. Heh, his brother already has one foot in the grave.

Watch the video: This Dog Freaks Out When Anyone Tries To Touch Him, And His Grandmom Isnt Exception. Kritter Klub (January 2022).