Okay, depending on where you are in the world, they might be mud boots, five buckles, puddle jumpers or wellies. Around here-wellies. Little thing David picked up overseas. Now they arent' the official Wellington boots-I'll get a pair when we go over in awhile, but wellies they will be regardless of the brand.
Mine seem to have an aura about them. Things happen when I put mine one. They sit on a mat right by the front door. One puppy has chewed up the top in a spot, no biggy as long as they keep the water out. David's, poor soul, has a rip in his by the big toe. Still trying to find something to fix it, but until then they just don't do what they are supposed to do. Or the whole snapping turtle incident-read previous post on that one.
Back to the aura and this also includes two very bad boys in my house. It never ever ceases to amaze me the power of suggestion. Take this morning. The front fence was only temporary and the dogs were really respecting it. Unfortunately the snow plow didn't and it became a casualty of the winter. It's laying on the ground and the dogs either go around or just over it. So I let out the boys-Moose and Turner. For the last two days, they have decided to go exploring now that the snow is almost all melted. The hay field, vineyard area and well, the mailbox.... you get it. So Grandma T has been going out with them as they hang around her and she is more concerned about missing out on a treat then exploring. Not this morning, she wasn't around when I let the boys out so they were on their own.
Brush my teeth, couple other things and then head downstairs to get a newly dry pair of socks. Sidetrack to let the boys in and well, they weren't coming when called. Grumble, grumble and groan after a minute of calling and it's now time to hurry up and get dressed. David was headed back from the barn and I handed him a flashlight - it's only 6 o'clock and still dark. Off he goes calling and swearing and teasing and what not. Off I go to find the rest of my clothes.
Towel lady as I am loving called when just out of the shower, had to find the rest of my clothes, coat and dispose of towel in favor of a stocking cap. Still hear David calling for them. I walk to the door, now I'm grumbling, grumbling and groaning again-where is that pair of undies I laid out last night, etc. You get the picture. All ready to go out in the damp and sort of rain snow stuff coming down, pull on one wellie, wait, here it is, just wait......grab the 2nd and look at the door before I insert my foot all the way in and you got it. David comes in with the boys. He looks down at me and giggles-yeap the aura of the boots. And borrowing a Russism--Moose and Turner look at both of us and say "I don't get it". What's the big fuss all about anyway?
This is not a random occurrence. It never fails. The moment I pull on those boots to go out and do something I would rather not-usually retrieve a dog out of the pasture, the field or the ducks, they sense the vibe coming and book it to where they are supposed to be. Today was just like any other. Meredith giggled along with David-suggestion was that I should have just forgotten about getting dressed and in robe and Towel Lady apparel, pulled on the wellies. Would have saved us all valuable time this morning.
So to all those wellie wearing ladies here and abroad--cherish them. There's something magical about that lovely rubber foot wear.
Later gators.....
C
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
good point
Comment was made about my rescue post that I figured I would post more about.
Fostering a dog is an wonderful opportunity to do something good for a dog that has had it worse in the past. But at times are we really doing the admiral thing by going from one hurtful situation to one that has it's own horrors? Remember rescue isn't just about getting a dog and keeping it in your home, there's so much more.
In order for foster a dog, you need to be able to devote lots of time and energy to making that dogs life better. Be it intense medical bills, sleepless nights, lots of training and innovative methods at that, or watching them destroy doors, kennels, toys, or other dogs in the household. Just "saving" a dog from the horrors of a puppy mill or being tied out in the back yard or from the overcrowding of a kill shelter, to relegate them to a kennel run in the garage or not allow them the intimacy of your home, is that any better? How about not being able to offer them the medical care they need? Lots of them will need altering, management on heartworm infections or worse maladies. If you can't get the funding from a breed rescue, can you take care of it yourself? Do you have the time and resources to take them to training classes, work with a behaviourist or spend hours just getting them to trust a human again? Many dogs are rescued from "rescuers" who have saved dogs only to have them face new ones of inadequate care and love in their new home.
Hoarding if one of those diseases that legitimate rescues run into every day. It really is hard on good rescues as it gives them bad names. Many shelters won't adopt out to rescue because of this. Hoarders start out saving dogs from horrendous situations, with the attitude of not letting go because they and only they can give them the stability they need. Fostering dogs for rescue means that many of them will eventually leave our homes to forever homes of their own. That's the whole goal. Hoarders on the other hand, won't adopt out and it only becomes worse when they keep thinking they are the best thing for the dog, no one else can help the dog like they can, etc. The list of excuses is unlimited.
Purebred rescues constantly have to deal with the after affects of hoarding. Collies in the last year have had to deal with at least 3 situations of over 100 dogs being confiscated by what was well meaning people in the beginning. This just overwhelms those organizations and doesn't allow them to do what they can for the other onzies and twozies in the the system.
I guess my point is this. Rescuing has many facets. It is not just about taking in a dog, rehabbing it and then placing it in it's forever home. It's about doing the paperwork, doing the transport, home checks, fund raising. The list of the behind the scenes jobs is unlimited. If your lifestyle, economic situation or your heart can't take it, then don't bring a foster in our home. Help out in some other way.
I have fostered some wonderful dogs in the past. I've always cried when they go to their new homes. But I also know that they are going where they need to go- a loving forever home. My last foster took my heart with him. He was only with us for three days and I then I had to do the hardest thing a foster can do-help him to the bridge. It will be a long time before I can muster up the energy for another foster, knowing that it could be long term, short term or just as a weigh station to their final crossing. Till then, I rescue with my head and hands-lots of home visits, lots of transports, fundraising and oh the paperwork and networking.
Later gators....
C
Fostering a dog is an wonderful opportunity to do something good for a dog that has had it worse in the past. But at times are we really doing the admiral thing by going from one hurtful situation to one that has it's own horrors? Remember rescue isn't just about getting a dog and keeping it in your home, there's so much more.
In order for foster a dog, you need to be able to devote lots of time and energy to making that dogs life better. Be it intense medical bills, sleepless nights, lots of training and innovative methods at that, or watching them destroy doors, kennels, toys, or other dogs in the household. Just "saving" a dog from the horrors of a puppy mill or being tied out in the back yard or from the overcrowding of a kill shelter, to relegate them to a kennel run in the garage or not allow them the intimacy of your home, is that any better? How about not being able to offer them the medical care they need? Lots of them will need altering, management on heartworm infections or worse maladies. If you can't get the funding from a breed rescue, can you take care of it yourself? Do you have the time and resources to take them to training classes, work with a behaviourist or spend hours just getting them to trust a human again? Many dogs are rescued from "rescuers" who have saved dogs only to have them face new ones of inadequate care and love in their new home.
Hoarding if one of those diseases that legitimate rescues run into every day. It really is hard on good rescues as it gives them bad names. Many shelters won't adopt out to rescue because of this. Hoarders start out saving dogs from horrendous situations, with the attitude of not letting go because they and only they can give them the stability they need. Fostering dogs for rescue means that many of them will eventually leave our homes to forever homes of their own. That's the whole goal. Hoarders on the other hand, won't adopt out and it only becomes worse when they keep thinking they are the best thing for the dog, no one else can help the dog like they can, etc. The list of excuses is unlimited.
Purebred rescues constantly have to deal with the after affects of hoarding. Collies in the last year have had to deal with at least 3 situations of over 100 dogs being confiscated by what was well meaning people in the beginning. This just overwhelms those organizations and doesn't allow them to do what they can for the other onzies and twozies in the the system.
I guess my point is this. Rescuing has many facets. It is not just about taking in a dog, rehabbing it and then placing it in it's forever home. It's about doing the paperwork, doing the transport, home checks, fund raising. The list of the behind the scenes jobs is unlimited. If your lifestyle, economic situation or your heart can't take it, then don't bring a foster in our home. Help out in some other way.
I have fostered some wonderful dogs in the past. I've always cried when they go to their new homes. But I also know that they are going where they need to go- a loving forever home. My last foster took my heart with him. He was only with us for three days and I then I had to do the hardest thing a foster can do-help him to the bridge. It will be a long time before I can muster up the energy for another foster, knowing that it could be long term, short term or just as a weigh station to their final crossing. Till then, I rescue with my head and hands-lots of home visits, lots of transports, fundraising and oh the paperwork and networking.
Later gators....
C
Sunday, March 23, 2008
never works
It just doesn't ever seem to work. Trying to get a photo of them all at one time. But at least this one shows the collies-it's a sea of legs and blue merles in our house. The gate is for my safety-gotta have some place to go where they can't mob ya. Actually it's the stop gap measure so that muddy feet can't go racing into the entire house when they come in from the back yard. And like the green runner? Borrowing it to work with a dog that's doesn't like ring mats at the shows and well, it's kind of worked out great right where it is, so I don't see if moving any time soon. Actually, heehee, thinking of offering up a new decorating service-house decor ala dog show.
Lator gators....
C
No bones or is it no butts?
Yes, make no bones about it, that's a few cardi butts! Fun to get photos like that one. Only issue is getting them all to stand still and not wag their tails. Too many previous attempts showed Eddie or Fred furiously wagging their tails.
Lator gators...
C
And a few more thoughts on the weather...
I hate going to the Dubuque Kennel Club show. It's crowded, the grooming is beyond tight and you are limited as to what and where you can go in the building. The floor formerly was these warped boards covering the ice ring floor but now it's nice concrete-slick, smooth, slippery concrete. That's not fun either. At least my guys like elevators so the eye clinic being upstairs wasn't too much of a hassle. Though I did hear a horror story about a dog that got attacked coming out of the elevator last year and now has issues leaving them, going in is fine.
Eye checks were perfect. 4 out of 4. Everyone of the kids was well behaved and it's one more thing done for the year. I think the interesting part was talking to the other people waiting as well as to Dr Betts. We got into a discussion with an other breeder about those borderline problems-where you can't determine if they were injuries or if they were congenital. I liked her answer though-don't risk it, eliminate those dogs from the gene pool, why chance it? It's a hard thing to do but it's the only right thing to do. Or is it? I guess you could test breed but then it's up to the breeder to keep a handle on all the other dogs and make sure to do complete health testing on all of those puppies to insure that you didn't pass that bad part on. Problem is, most breeders won't, so in that case the best thing is to either pet all those puppies out and alter the affect dog. That's a whole other ball of yarn for another post.
Anyway, we are squished in what seems to be the opponents locker room-small and dull. But man was it fun. We did enjoy our day-shopping at Bluff Street and able to walk there because the massive snow storm from Friday had gone further north then predicted. Rus, Sherilyn, Kim, Kathy, Connie, Laura, Mel, Cindy, Emily, and Meredith and I , oh forgot, Marla and Pongo the Puli and last but not least David. Yes David came to the show! Everyone was tickled and he had fun. It was nice to have him along. Didn't send him in the ring with anyone though he might have done better then we did. Another judge(thank goodness) and other dog show. Marg got presents from Boo, which I am actually enjoying listening to today - thanks Boo, not doing much for me but hoping it does something for Marg. We cheered for Christy and her lovely little crested, same for Picasso and Emily-both got group 4's. Then it was pack up and head home. Of course, on the way home-it snowed. Woke up this morning to a lovely white coating all over the ground. Gone already, so that must mean that Spring is winning it's long standing battle with Old Man Winter.
And the only reason that I went was to get tea. I was so out of tea and the only local place to get it from is up in Dubuque. Shameless plug but the Yorkshire Rose is the best little shop around. The tea we get is called Yorkshire Blend and believe it or not, is made to work best in hard water-which is what we have. I can tell the difference in the taste from the home brewed batch to the pot I put on at work. Not the same, still good but it's like an addiction here. Can't have tea with out a biscuit or two and I was set for the night. Took all my lovely new meds and slept like a baby. Doc's got me on 5 things now and the combo seems to be working. Finally a breath of fresh air.
So here's your picture for the day. I have dozens of african violets-they seem to thrive in this house. Plus the pots of wander jew-David's fault. Hoya's, ficus, an ancient squirrel's foot fern and rex begonia(that one needs a different perch) and the one on the left side is by far my favorite-the prayer plant. That one is about 12-15 years old. Recently repotted for the first time in about five years. I keep it trimmed back and it's blooming right now. Oh and the orchid is one I've had for a few years and is once again, lavishing us with a display. Wish it would bloom closer to July so Meredith could show it off at fair but oh well, it brightens the mood during the dark days of winter.
Later gators.....
Happy Easter
Since the ham is in the oven, the eggs are decorated and Meredith is in a sugar coma watching a movie, figured it would be a good time to catch up on a few things. I know it's spring but found some more winter pics of the farm....
Later gators...
C
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Good Medicine
No my breathing issues are not completely resolved, though better with the build up of the new meds in my system. Time to go back for another round of something else. Will it ever end? Still not sure what is causing this flair up, oh well, this too shall pass.
Remember when it was a battle to get the kids to take anything? The flavor was awful and listing it as cherry flavored didn't help at all. Alec to this day can't swallow a pill. I gag on cough syrup but Meredith has it easy. Little rat lives in the age of flavoring. The pharmacist will add a flavor enhancer to the liquid meds now so that's it's easier to get down the hatch. Wish adults had it that easy.
Sugar coating it, anyway you look at it, takes the pain out of getting better. My best medicine in the house is fourlegged. Remember back in January when I was on my death bed with the flu? A couple dogs were concerned, one just worried about why I was still in bed and a couple more were just happy to have someone to let them out in the middle of the day. Medicine comes in so many forms but the warm fuzzy ones are my favorite. Over the years I've participated in therapy dog programs with one dog or another. Clairee is retired from active therapy dog work, Fred too. Hope at one time loved going but is so crippled up now that just walking to the front door is all she can muster. My latest prescriptions for health are Moose and Eddie. Suck ups, starving for attention and total people dogs. Good medicine.
I am a member of a couple of therapy groups. One visits nursing homes, but unfortunately it's during the week when I work. So I only am able to attend a couple times a year, mostly during the winter. The other is not so much a therapy group but it's an outreach program with the kennel club. We go to schools, daycares, scout groups, etc, and talk about dogs. Safety around dogs, how to care for dogs, responsible dog ownership, etc. It's actually one of my favorite things to do-talk to kids. Moose has his Therapy Dogs International certification, Eddie will be tested in a couple of weeks. So we go, do some demonstrations - jumps, retrieves, how to greet a strange dog, that sort of thing. Then Moosie gets all excited, so much so that he collapses into a pile of goo on the floor and can't get up. Not really, but then the kids get a chance to practice the skills we taught them about how to meet a dog or to just ask questions, Moose is in heaven. He's flat on his back, feet in the air, getting tons of belly scratches and kissing lots of faces. Eddie of course has watched and learned the technique but he adds in the bat the eyes and wriggle on the floor. Clairee is above that and sits quietly beside me, offering a paw up for a shake or two.
Nothing like the perfect prescription for a nasty problem. So many kids are scared of dogs because they aren't taught how to meet dogs, how to act around them and the best one, owners who don't spend the time training the kids and the dogs so that they can get along. The number of dog bites and attacks just keeps going up and up, cities want a quick fix and do breed bans or BSL's. Quick fix only works on the symptoms, not the heart of the problem. When we bring an animal into our home, we then take on the responsibility of caring for their every need-physical and mental. Hoping that our K9 Ambassador program helps the future generation realize what a responsibility dog ownership is. The sad state of our society these days, with disposabilitiy and instant gratification, means that we still have a lot of work ahead of us. I also hate to see the lack of owning up to a problem being ourselves and passing it off to an animal who has no ability to remove itself from a situation that we created. So many times it's get rid of the dog, it's causing too much trouble when some time and effort into being a responsible owner-training, altering the dog, or heck, even training the kids, would solve the problem.
I'm also in the middle of starting a school age kid therapy dog program. Ran across a great program called Pet Pals and working with a wonderful group of kids in 4-H who are learning that it's not just walking their dog into a nursing home and letting people pet it. It's about knowing your dog, understanding what obstacles the people they meet might be dealing with and how to deal with death and dying. Hoping that these kids stick it out, I've already got things in place to work with a local hospice and a couple other facilities. The aim of the program is to bridge the gap between youth and seniors but I see it going so much further.
Good medicine sometimes means that you can't solve the problem, but make the time spent dealing with it, easier. Several years ago when I first got started doing nursing home visits, Hope was the dog we usually took. On one trip we were introduced to an older farmer who had had a severe stroke. Nurses commented that they hadn't been able to get much response out of him but thought the visit with Hope might help as he had pictures of his dog-a lab mix, in his room. Hope gimped along the hallway and into his room. Gingerly she put her feet up on his bedside and for the first time, the gentleman showed a little emotion then lifted his hand to pet her head. We are all in tears, it was a wonderful visit. The next time we came, Hope knew right where to go and down the hall she drug me to get to his room. He was doing better and was very happy to see her. On our next visit, once again, Hope was excited(as excited as the slug can get) to go down to his room, but stopped in the doorway and just sat down. Our friend had passed away and Hope knew he wasn't there anymore. It still amazes me to this day and I hope it always will. The insight that animals have, we will never be able to fathom.
Good medicine-tasty, hard to swallow, solves the problem or just alleviates the symptoms. Right now I have a house full of various meds-stuff to help my breathing, knock out the migraines or keep the arthritis at bay. But my favorite ones I get to wrap myself in each and every day. Be them 5lbs of energy, 60 lbs of sludge, tall, short, long hair, no hair, my fourlegged medicine cabinet is by far the best medicine, something no doctor can prescribe but just what I need.
Later gators....
C
Remember when it was a battle to get the kids to take anything? The flavor was awful and listing it as cherry flavored didn't help at all. Alec to this day can't swallow a pill. I gag on cough syrup but Meredith has it easy. Little rat lives in the age of flavoring. The pharmacist will add a flavor enhancer to the liquid meds now so that's it's easier to get down the hatch. Wish adults had it that easy.
Sugar coating it, anyway you look at it, takes the pain out of getting better. My best medicine in the house is fourlegged. Remember back in January when I was on my death bed with the flu? A couple dogs were concerned, one just worried about why I was still in bed and a couple more were just happy to have someone to let them out in the middle of the day. Medicine comes in so many forms but the warm fuzzy ones are my favorite. Over the years I've participated in therapy dog programs with one dog or another. Clairee is retired from active therapy dog work, Fred too. Hope at one time loved going but is so crippled up now that just walking to the front door is all she can muster. My latest prescriptions for health are Moose and Eddie. Suck ups, starving for attention and total people dogs. Good medicine.
I am a member of a couple of therapy groups. One visits nursing homes, but unfortunately it's during the week when I work. So I only am able to attend a couple times a year, mostly during the winter. The other is not so much a therapy group but it's an outreach program with the kennel club. We go to schools, daycares, scout groups, etc, and talk about dogs. Safety around dogs, how to care for dogs, responsible dog ownership, etc. It's actually one of my favorite things to do-talk to kids. Moose has his Therapy Dogs International certification, Eddie will be tested in a couple of weeks. So we go, do some demonstrations - jumps, retrieves, how to greet a strange dog, that sort of thing. Then Moosie gets all excited, so much so that he collapses into a pile of goo on the floor and can't get up. Not really, but then the kids get a chance to practice the skills we taught them about how to meet a dog or to just ask questions, Moose is in heaven. He's flat on his back, feet in the air, getting tons of belly scratches and kissing lots of faces. Eddie of course has watched and learned the technique but he adds in the bat the eyes and wriggle on the floor. Clairee is above that and sits quietly beside me, offering a paw up for a shake or two.
Nothing like the perfect prescription for a nasty problem. So many kids are scared of dogs because they aren't taught how to meet dogs, how to act around them and the best one, owners who don't spend the time training the kids and the dogs so that they can get along. The number of dog bites and attacks just keeps going up and up, cities want a quick fix and do breed bans or BSL's. Quick fix only works on the symptoms, not the heart of the problem. When we bring an animal into our home, we then take on the responsibility of caring for their every need-physical and mental. Hoping that our K9 Ambassador program helps the future generation realize what a responsibility dog ownership is. The sad state of our society these days, with disposabilitiy and instant gratification, means that we still have a lot of work ahead of us. I also hate to see the lack of owning up to a problem being ourselves and passing it off to an animal who has no ability to remove itself from a situation that we created. So many times it's get rid of the dog, it's causing too much trouble when some time and effort into being a responsible owner-training, altering the dog, or heck, even training the kids, would solve the problem.
I'm also in the middle of starting a school age kid therapy dog program. Ran across a great program called Pet Pals and working with a wonderful group of kids in 4-H who are learning that it's not just walking their dog into a nursing home and letting people pet it. It's about knowing your dog, understanding what obstacles the people they meet might be dealing with and how to deal with death and dying. Hoping that these kids stick it out, I've already got things in place to work with a local hospice and a couple other facilities. The aim of the program is to bridge the gap between youth and seniors but I see it going so much further.
Good medicine sometimes means that you can't solve the problem, but make the time spent dealing with it, easier. Several years ago when I first got started doing nursing home visits, Hope was the dog we usually took. On one trip we were introduced to an older farmer who had had a severe stroke. Nurses commented that they hadn't been able to get much response out of him but thought the visit with Hope might help as he had pictures of his dog-a lab mix, in his room. Hope gimped along the hallway and into his room. Gingerly she put her feet up on his bedside and for the first time, the gentleman showed a little emotion then lifted his hand to pet her head. We are all in tears, it was a wonderful visit. The next time we came, Hope knew right where to go and down the hall she drug me to get to his room. He was doing better and was very happy to see her. On our next visit, once again, Hope was excited(as excited as the slug can get) to go down to his room, but stopped in the doorway and just sat down. Our friend had passed away and Hope knew he wasn't there anymore. It still amazes me to this day and I hope it always will. The insight that animals have, we will never be able to fathom.
Good medicine-tasty, hard to swallow, solves the problem or just alleviates the symptoms. Right now I have a house full of various meds-stuff to help my breathing, knock out the migraines or keep the arthritis at bay. But my favorite ones I get to wrap myself in each and every day. Be them 5lbs of energy, 60 lbs of sludge, tall, short, long hair, no hair, my fourlegged medicine cabinet is by far the best medicine, something no doctor can prescribe but just what I need.
Later gators....
C
Monday, March 17, 2008
Thanks for the memories
What a dreary day, especially considering it's St Patrick's day. The parade downtown was a wet one to say the least and rather have a warm cup of tea then a cold glass of green beer. I have my token little green pin on. Everyone is Irish for the day but it's hard when you are actually Scottish. We just don't get along with everyone ;0)
Spent the morning at a funeral. Seemed like the day was made for one. Yesterday was cool but with undertones of warm, some sun. Not at all today. Misty, chill in the air, slight breeze and cloudy sky. Made it so fun to wear a skirt but at least i found a long wool one. The gentleman's funeral we attended was a very good friend of the family. Actually he was every one's friend. Graduated school with my dad, I helped out with his kids in 4-H and he was Alec and Elli's 4-H leader. Neighbor just a road over from us and always, always smiling.
Lynn's brother stood up for a small eulogy. He talked about his much older brother, what he learned from him and what he remembered about him. Then he rounded it out with rules that Lynn always seemed to live by. The first and foremost one and honestly, one of the few that I can say stuck with me, was smile. Lynn was always looking on the bright side of life. There was always a smile on his face, a chuckle in the midst of a mess and the ability to turn anything he was doing into just plain fun. It takes a mountain of a man to go through life like that. He was generous beyond words, kind to all and you were drawn to his contagious optimistic look out on life.
I hope to live my life like Lynn did. Grace under fire, a love for all that is around me, and always keeping my family close. His wife is one of the kindest women I've had a chance to meet and his boys are very much like their dad. Lynn can be very proud of them and the life they lead. Really going to miss him up at the fair grounds, around the neighborhood or running into him while picking up feed.
Thanks for some great memories Lynn, summer won't be the same without you but we will keep right on smiling and making the most of what we have.
Later gators....
C
Spent the morning at a funeral. Seemed like the day was made for one. Yesterday was cool but with undertones of warm, some sun. Not at all today. Misty, chill in the air, slight breeze and cloudy sky. Made it so fun to wear a skirt but at least i found a long wool one. The gentleman's funeral we attended was a very good friend of the family. Actually he was every one's friend. Graduated school with my dad, I helped out with his kids in 4-H and he was Alec and Elli's 4-H leader. Neighbor just a road over from us and always, always smiling.
Lynn's brother stood up for a small eulogy. He talked about his much older brother, what he learned from him and what he remembered about him. Then he rounded it out with rules that Lynn always seemed to live by. The first and foremost one and honestly, one of the few that I can say stuck with me, was smile. Lynn was always looking on the bright side of life. There was always a smile on his face, a chuckle in the midst of a mess and the ability to turn anything he was doing into just plain fun. It takes a mountain of a man to go through life like that. He was generous beyond words, kind to all and you were drawn to his contagious optimistic look out on life.
I hope to live my life like Lynn did. Grace under fire, a love for all that is around me, and always keeping my family close. His wife is one of the kindest women I've had a chance to meet and his boys are very much like their dad. Lynn can be very proud of them and the life they lead. Really going to miss him up at the fair grounds, around the neighborhood or running into him while picking up feed.
Thanks for some great memories Lynn, summer won't be the same without you but we will keep right on smiling and making the most of what we have.
Later gators....
C
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Fine Print
Sitting be bed last night trying to unwind after the whirlwind of an evening, I realized I'm getting old. Now stop right there, yes I'm within a year or so of cracking 40, not old by any means, but with recent events, I just don't see 100 in my horizon. I took a test a few years ago though, and I am expected to out live my hubby by 10 years or so though-keeping my eyes peeled for that boy toy for when he's gone ;0)
Heehee, anyway, I do have to apologize for recent posts. Been battling to breath for about 2 weeks or so and finally, finally the current med combo is working. So for the next 3-4 days, the side effects are something I have to deal with until it all evens out in the blood stream. I have adult onset asthma( plus something else I can't pronounce), which the Dr with all her great bedside manner, told me would the thing that kills me in the end. Only will get worse as time goes by. So there I sit in bed last night, Meredith snoring away with her clan of dogs piled on top of her-David's in CA, again, so she likes to sleep with me. Decide that before I take the next cocktail mix of drugs prescribed by the Dr, to read the fine print. That's I then realize that I have to squint, even with the help of very powerful contact lenses, to read all that damn fine print.
Does it seem like we miss a lot of the fine print in our lives. In such a hurry that we miss the important stuff. And why do they put it in such small print? I have no answer for that and not one suggestion for it either. What I read last night talked about headaches, shaking hands, being irritable, restlessness, etc. I giggled and said, but that's what I'm like normally, you mean can get worse? No, not really, but there I sit with four sets of paperwork, trying to make heads nor tails out of it all. Realized what one didn't do, the other did or even better, counteracted each other. Now that I liked! So that leaves me with a short stack of things I have to deal with until I either get used to them, they subside or I get another med on board that counteracts it!
I do find that the fine print though, does provide a great escape when we screw up. I was short with just about everyone last week, so I looked in the the fine print, and yeap, the meds can cause irritablity. Pointed it out to the hubby and said, there, told ya so. Except he said - you weren't on that one yet. Damn, I back tracked quickly and said PMS! That one always works. Or it could have been just having a week where dealing with idiots on various levels had left me with no other option but to vent to the nearest victim. Now don't tell me you don't do that on occasion too? I have spent the last few days apologizing to everyone. Confession and owning up to one's own flaws is hard, but it's the right thing to do. Many people will gladly accept an apology but figure they are above offering one when needed. Pity them, no one is with out flaws or sin, those that think that have some major demons to deal with.
So here I go. A week of living with the meds and figuring out how to work the fine print effects into my life. Bottle of excedrin on the desk, cut out the caffeine for awhile and avoid conflict with the idiots of the world. First two are good to go, it's the last one that will be the most difficult.
Later gators.....
C
Heehee, anyway, I do have to apologize for recent posts. Been battling to breath for about 2 weeks or so and finally, finally the current med combo is working. So for the next 3-4 days, the side effects are something I have to deal with until it all evens out in the blood stream. I have adult onset asthma( plus something else I can't pronounce), which the Dr with all her great bedside manner, told me would the thing that kills me in the end. Only will get worse as time goes by. So there I sit in bed last night, Meredith snoring away with her clan of dogs piled on top of her-David's in CA, again, so she likes to sleep with me. Decide that before I take the next cocktail mix of drugs prescribed by the Dr, to read the fine print. That's I then realize that I have to squint, even with the help of very powerful contact lenses, to read all that damn fine print.
Does it seem like we miss a lot of the fine print in our lives. In such a hurry that we miss the important stuff. And why do they put it in such small print? I have no answer for that and not one suggestion for it either. What I read last night talked about headaches, shaking hands, being irritable, restlessness, etc. I giggled and said, but that's what I'm like normally, you mean can get worse? No, not really, but there I sit with four sets of paperwork, trying to make heads nor tails out of it all. Realized what one didn't do, the other did or even better, counteracted each other. Now that I liked! So that leaves me with a short stack of things I have to deal with until I either get used to them, they subside or I get another med on board that counteracts it!
I do find that the fine print though, does provide a great escape when we screw up. I was short with just about everyone last week, so I looked in the the fine print, and yeap, the meds can cause irritablity. Pointed it out to the hubby and said, there, told ya so. Except he said - you weren't on that one yet. Damn, I back tracked quickly and said PMS! That one always works. Or it could have been just having a week where dealing with idiots on various levels had left me with no other option but to vent to the nearest victim. Now don't tell me you don't do that on occasion too? I have spent the last few days apologizing to everyone. Confession and owning up to one's own flaws is hard, but it's the right thing to do. Many people will gladly accept an apology but figure they are above offering one when needed. Pity them, no one is with out flaws or sin, those that think that have some major demons to deal with.
So here I go. A week of living with the meds and figuring out how to work the fine print effects into my life. Bottle of excedrin on the desk, cut out the caffeine for awhile and avoid conflict with the idiots of the world. First two are good to go, it's the last one that will be the most difficult.
Later gators.....
C
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Validation
Recently a discussion on one of my many chat groups has drifted to the subject of rescue, specifically about a breeder's roll in rescue. As you might notice on our website, I have a page devoted to rescue plus a couple of quotes. The first one has not been attributed to anyone as we don't need to lay claim to it but live by it-"If you don't rescue, don't breed". Pretty simple if you ask me. The second one is a quote from David Frei. Many of you know him as the new voice of the Westminster Kennel Club Show. He says, "For the responsible breeder, breed rescue is just a matter of course."
If we are a responsible breeder, that means our goal is to breed a dog that is as close to the standard as possible. Not to breed when we have a demand. Not to breed to fulfill a want,or a desire of the public. Personally, I think I can be selfish and say, I breed for my next generation and for no one else's pleasure. I made that mistake a couple of years ago by breeding to fulfill someone else's desire and what I thought was a litter produced to benefit the breed. Boy was I wrong. I never should have let a friendship dictate over the best interest of the dog or the breed. I have therefore been the responsible party and every dog I personally placed out of that litter was altered. The remaining dogs, it's a shame, are out of my control and will be bred and in all honesty, not be bred to the best interest of the breed. I am selfish and the decisions I now make are for the sake of maintaining the breed, not to feed someone else's ego and definitely I take full responsibility for all my breedings from this time forward. The blame game is not something I partake in-that's for those who have ego's to feed.
I like to think of the roll of rescue really is cleaning up another person's mess. They lack the moral values to be responsible for the animals they produce for the life of the dog. They fail to insure that the dog is going to a forever home. The breeder's greed feeds their need to produce one dog after another. But not only are we cleaning up a breeder's ill gotten gains, but we are also cleaning up for a greedy society. The "I want it now and will have it now" society. People have a tendency to think they need something without realizing that it's really a want. Similar is a hoarding situation, the person gets and gets and gets. Some realize that they are in way over their heads. And other's have no clue, just thinking I am the only one who can do best by these dogs. It's scary to watch a person cycle like that-the constant rotation through various numbers of dogs. I've seen too many dogs hurt by this behavior, shuffled from home to home.
We do not need to have an animal in our lives, many times our lives are fulfilled without an animal or the fancy car or the big house. But today's world has created an error in our programing, where needs and wants can get interchanged. What is the saying-here today, gone tomorrow?
Unfortunately, many people think in order to be in rescue, you have to actively foster dogs in your home. Actually that's wrong. Rescue is so much more. It's education, transportation, it's home visits(I do a lot of those), temperment testing, fundraising, donating equipement, typing, shelter visits, I could go on and on. It's those behind the scene people who work without any recognition, actually make rescue work. If you feel a need to boast about how many years or how many dogs you have rescued over the years, are you doing it for the right reason? If you can't foster for whatever reason it is, try helping with what ever God given talents you may have. Are you an artist, then draw a picture to be auctioned off at a fundraiser. Natural speaker, do educational talks at schools, churches or public meetings on the importance of spay/neuters and being a responsible dog owner. There are so many more ways to rescue then just fostering that dog.
Part of the recent discussion turned to commercial breeders and their leftovers. Dogs just like cattle, horses and antiques, are auctioned off. At dog auctions, there are rows and rows of cages. Dogs of all ages, sizes, and breeds. Male, female, puppies. It pulls at one's heart strings to see our domestic companion animal, the one that sleeps on our laps, fetches a ball or brings in the cows for milking in the evening, treated no better then the animal that is now our Big Mac. As breed fanciers, when we see one of our own listed, like with a mother and her child, we want to protect it. Our first instinct is to get it out of that horrible place, wrap it in a warm blanket and say, it's all better now. But is it really? Let's look at this from a different view.
Commercial breeders, Puppy Millers(PM), or Back Yard Breeders(BYB) usually are not like the breed fancier in that they, in order to maintain production, have multiple breeds. Not only do they have multiple breeds but they also will create breeds if the need presents itself. Those dogs that don't produce, become too old, are unhealthy, have only two options. They can either be destroyed or they can be sold. By selling the dog, the breeder usually hopes it can recoup some it's financial investment. And by selling, that usually means auction. We are not talking about a newspaper or Internet posting saying I have a lovely dog that needs a new home. Now here comes the breed fancier, surfing the web, looking at the auction sites, hoping to save one of their own. Bingo, one's listed, must mobilize, gotta get it out of that horrific situation it's been put in. But wait, are we really saving it by buying it at the auction? One dog, one breed, remember, this breeder has multiple breeds. But by buying that one dog of that one breed, all we are really doing is helping to validate the mass breeder's reason for existence. Remember, he's not a fancier like us, but a business man. One dollar in, is one more dollar he can reinvest to produce another dog of another breed. Or breed the daughter, sister, or son of the dog we just "saved".
Validation. I don't think we really think of it that way. Our own little petty justification of rescuing one dog by buying it only allows the producer to assign the same or worse fate to another dog. Validation. Are we willing to save one and leave 10, 000 more? Are we really able to say that someone else can take care of those dogs, they aren't our breed, why should be care? That's not looking beyond the end of our nose to what's happening in the world around us. That's feeding that ego again.
Our only real option, though I hate to see it happen, is to not buy that dog at the auction. Don't validate that breeders reason for existing. I know as hard as it is for me to see a cardigan or a collie in the auctions, I can't justify "rescuing" one dog only to let other's take it's place in the production line. We should really figure out a way to reduce the demand so that eventually there is no need for a commercial breeder. That's a discussion for another post.
If a breeder is truly a responsible breeder, they will need to insure the long term sustainability of the breed they love. They will keep track of dogs throughout it's lifetime, breed not for ego and as a favor but breed to maintain and protect the breed. They will require spay and neuters of those dogs that they can not control or are placed as pets. They will take back or remove a dog from a situation that is not in it's best interest. That breeder will not purchase or facilitate the purchase of any dog - regardless of breed, from an auction. They will help with finding abandoned dogs new homes. Rescue from shelters or private homes where the breeder is absent. Above all they will not help validate the existence of the commercial breeder or puppy mill by buying a dog from them, under the auspices of rescue.
Off my soap box, for alittle while, later gators.....
C
If we are a responsible breeder, that means our goal is to breed a dog that is as close to the standard as possible. Not to breed when we have a demand. Not to breed to fulfill a want,or a desire of the public. Personally, I think I can be selfish and say, I breed for my next generation and for no one else's pleasure. I made that mistake a couple of years ago by breeding to fulfill someone else's desire and what I thought was a litter produced to benefit the breed. Boy was I wrong. I never should have let a friendship dictate over the best interest of the dog or the breed. I have therefore been the responsible party and every dog I personally placed out of that litter was altered. The remaining dogs, it's a shame, are out of my control and will be bred and in all honesty, not be bred to the best interest of the breed. I am selfish and the decisions I now make are for the sake of maintaining the breed, not to feed someone else's ego and definitely I take full responsibility for all my breedings from this time forward. The blame game is not something I partake in-that's for those who have ego's to feed.
I like to think of the roll of rescue really is cleaning up another person's mess. They lack the moral values to be responsible for the animals they produce for the life of the dog. They fail to insure that the dog is going to a forever home. The breeder's greed feeds their need to produce one dog after another. But not only are we cleaning up a breeder's ill gotten gains, but we are also cleaning up for a greedy society. The "I want it now and will have it now" society. People have a tendency to think they need something without realizing that it's really a want. Similar is a hoarding situation, the person gets and gets and gets. Some realize that they are in way over their heads. And other's have no clue, just thinking I am the only one who can do best by these dogs. It's scary to watch a person cycle like that-the constant rotation through various numbers of dogs. I've seen too many dogs hurt by this behavior, shuffled from home to home.
We do not need to have an animal in our lives, many times our lives are fulfilled without an animal or the fancy car or the big house. But today's world has created an error in our programing, where needs and wants can get interchanged. What is the saying-here today, gone tomorrow?
Unfortunately, many people think in order to be in rescue, you have to actively foster dogs in your home. Actually that's wrong. Rescue is so much more. It's education, transportation, it's home visits(I do a lot of those), temperment testing, fundraising, donating equipement, typing, shelter visits, I could go on and on. It's those behind the scene people who work without any recognition, actually make rescue work. If you feel a need to boast about how many years or how many dogs you have rescued over the years, are you doing it for the right reason? If you can't foster for whatever reason it is, try helping with what ever God given talents you may have. Are you an artist, then draw a picture to be auctioned off at a fundraiser. Natural speaker, do educational talks at schools, churches or public meetings on the importance of spay/neuters and being a responsible dog owner. There are so many more ways to rescue then just fostering that dog.
Part of the recent discussion turned to commercial breeders and their leftovers. Dogs just like cattle, horses and antiques, are auctioned off. At dog auctions, there are rows and rows of cages. Dogs of all ages, sizes, and breeds. Male, female, puppies. It pulls at one's heart strings to see our domestic companion animal, the one that sleeps on our laps, fetches a ball or brings in the cows for milking in the evening, treated no better then the animal that is now our Big Mac. As breed fanciers, when we see one of our own listed, like with a mother and her child, we want to protect it. Our first instinct is to get it out of that horrible place, wrap it in a warm blanket and say, it's all better now. But is it really? Let's look at this from a different view.
Commercial breeders, Puppy Millers(PM), or Back Yard Breeders(BYB) usually are not like the breed fancier in that they, in order to maintain production, have multiple breeds. Not only do they have multiple breeds but they also will create breeds if the need presents itself. Those dogs that don't produce, become too old, are unhealthy, have only two options. They can either be destroyed or they can be sold. By selling the dog, the breeder usually hopes it can recoup some it's financial investment. And by selling, that usually means auction. We are not talking about a newspaper or Internet posting saying I have a lovely dog that needs a new home. Now here comes the breed fancier, surfing the web, looking at the auction sites, hoping to save one of their own. Bingo, one's listed, must mobilize, gotta get it out of that horrific situation it's been put in. But wait, are we really saving it by buying it at the auction? One dog, one breed, remember, this breeder has multiple breeds. But by buying that one dog of that one breed, all we are really doing is helping to validate the mass breeder's reason for existence. Remember, he's not a fancier like us, but a business man. One dollar in, is one more dollar he can reinvest to produce another dog of another breed. Or breed the daughter, sister, or son of the dog we just "saved".
Validation. I don't think we really think of it that way. Our own little petty justification of rescuing one dog by buying it only allows the producer to assign the same or worse fate to another dog. Validation. Are we willing to save one and leave 10, 000 more? Are we really able to say that someone else can take care of those dogs, they aren't our breed, why should be care? That's not looking beyond the end of our nose to what's happening in the world around us. That's feeding that ego again.
Our only real option, though I hate to see it happen, is to not buy that dog at the auction. Don't validate that breeders reason for existing. I know as hard as it is for me to see a cardigan or a collie in the auctions, I can't justify "rescuing" one dog only to let other's take it's place in the production line. We should really figure out a way to reduce the demand so that eventually there is no need for a commercial breeder. That's a discussion for another post.
If a breeder is truly a responsible breeder, they will need to insure the long term sustainability of the breed they love. They will keep track of dogs throughout it's lifetime, breed not for ego and as a favor but breed to maintain and protect the breed. They will require spay and neuters of those dogs that they can not control or are placed as pets. They will take back or remove a dog from a situation that is not in it's best interest. That breeder will not purchase or facilitate the purchase of any dog - regardless of breed, from an auction. They will help with finding abandoned dogs new homes. Rescue from shelters or private homes where the breeder is absent. Above all they will not help validate the existence of the commercial breeder or puppy mill by buying a dog from them, under the auspices of rescue.
Off my soap box, for alittle while, later gators.....
C
Friday, March 7, 2008
Spring Forward
It's started, the spring into summer chaos. I can't in all honesty say the winter was a nice quiet reprieve from last fall's hectic schedule. I look forward to down time during the winter. Can't get out and work the horses, no far away big dog show weekends, 4-H is in hibernation too. But hit March and bang, chaosville wakes up.
I love my job. Winter here is quiet too-not too much going on in the pool construction business with 60" of snow on the ground, but as the snow melts, the municipalities start thinking about that magical Memorial Day weekend and opening their pools up. The two weeks before the last weekend in May are called Hell Weeks. I survived them last year and think I have a better handle on it for my second try this year. It's that slow build up that helps, plus my upcoming week vacation before it all breaks loose.
So this week, it started. Agility classes on Tuesday nights and Pet Therapy classes on Thursdays. Add in Kennel Club meetings on Wednesdays(two a month), then 4-H meetings one Monday a month, Horse committee and Dog committee meetings. Oh and the Dog Show Committee is having a meeting sometime this month. Two weekends of dog shows(at least they are local) That's only March....April is the Iowa FFA State Convention, the CWCCA National Specialty, three weekends of dog shows, Pet Expo demos, K9Ambassadors, Therapy Dog visit to the Library, Obedience Trial, finish up Agility class, start competition obedience class and last but not least the start of 4-H obedience classes. Forgot-find the garden and get that ready if all this damn snow has melted, plant the new grapes(200 or so of those), work the new horse and and....
My admin assistant asked me the other day what a typical day for me is. Little background, my admin asst lives in Minneapolis. Pam is owned by one of our former puppies, Clover. Pam is great at checking the website for problems or letting me know if I have something wrong. Then there's that gentle prompt--so what's new??? So she got hired as my admin asst. Love her for it, keeps me out of more trouble. Anyway, here's what I told her about my usual day.
Starts at 5 to 5:30 in the morning with a wake up call by my hubby, who has been up since 4:30 or earlier. He's already let a few dogs out, showered, breakfast and ready to head out to the barn for morning chores. I wander to the shower, which is usually accompanied by Clairee and Moose laying right outside the tub. An audience, love it. My goal is to get dressed, makeup and hair done by 6:20 so that any unexpected happenings don't make me any later out the door then 6:45. The shuffle is on with various dogs in and out, get Meredith up, feed, dressed and ready, ducks to water, feed and collect a random egg. Trying to remember if the pills in my hand are for me or a specific dog, then going over the nightly plans-who's home, who's not, what meetings are going on, then a final kiss to everyone and out we go, on our own merry but very separate ways.
Into work by 7 or 7:15. Daily reports, meetings, grumble about inventory, phone calls, orders, more meetings, end the day around 4 or 5-depends on how much grumbling I have to do about inventory. During the day I field emails, run errands if I have time at lunch. On the way home it's more errands and returning phone calls I missed during the day. Once home, it's a well greased wheel. Let dogs out if Alec already hasn't, empty and fill dishwasher, get dinner going. David heads out to the barn for chores. With the recent weather, yard clean up as not been happening, dreading to see what's under all that white stuff in the yard. Get in a little training session with one dog or another, and if there are not meetings, classes or what not for the night, after dinner, around 6:30 it's house work-vacuum, sweep, laundry, dust. Maybe groom a dog or two, chase a couple down to do nails, then sit at the computer to do show paperwork. Now if we have things going on that evening, it's out the door and all the house work has to wait till we get back. I think we are home by 9 most nights, so then it's let dogs out, pick up house-the dog toys are everywhere. Feed the crew and make sure I give the right pills to the right dog. Oh forgot, clean the cat and feed the litter box, wait I think that's feed the cat and clean the litter box-Meredith's job. Try to get a load of laundry done, feed and water the ducks-again. I might be in bed by 9:30 or it might be 11:30.
Only time things halt is for Wednesday nights for Men In Trees or Thursdays when new episodes of ER are on. Then totally throw the well laid plans out the window when David has to travel(lots of that this year) or Alec is out of town. Let's add a dash of winter weather, heavy rains, emergency vet visit, 'burb in the shop, well you kind of get it. Controlled Chaos.
And what about weekends? Dog show weekends leave David with a Honey Do list--see the snapping turtle post. Non dog show weekends, I attempt to sleep in till 6:30 or 7, that is if Hope isn't staring a hole right through you or Eddie is whining like a banshee. Time to catch up on laundry, house work, grooming, horses(the barn is a nightmare right now with all the water), errands into town, garden, grapes, mowing, poop scoop, all that stuff I managed to put off during the week. Church on Sunday, then time to decompress and watch or at least listen to the NASCAR race. My other luxury is renting a movie or late Sunday night watching Masterpiece Theatre.
Somewhere in there I manage to do private lessons, keep the website updated, clean dog stuff-crates, bedding and a random dog. Paint a bedroom-two of those need to be done. Cook-love to cook, ask Alisa. Sunday dinners at my house tend to be a gathering time for friends and family. Lately it's been trying to find things to do with duck eggs. Lots and lots of quiche, hard boiled duck eggs or scrambled eggs.
So that's a glimpse into Chaosville. A small glimpse ;0)
Oops, time to grumble about inventory again, later gators.....
C
I love my job. Winter here is quiet too-not too much going on in the pool construction business with 60" of snow on the ground, but as the snow melts, the municipalities start thinking about that magical Memorial Day weekend and opening their pools up. The two weeks before the last weekend in May are called Hell Weeks. I survived them last year and think I have a better handle on it for my second try this year. It's that slow build up that helps, plus my upcoming week vacation before it all breaks loose.
So this week, it started. Agility classes on Tuesday nights and Pet Therapy classes on Thursdays. Add in Kennel Club meetings on Wednesdays(two a month), then 4-H meetings one Monday a month, Horse committee and Dog committee meetings. Oh and the Dog Show Committee is having a meeting sometime this month. Two weekends of dog shows(at least they are local) That's only March....April is the Iowa FFA State Convention, the CWCCA National Specialty, three weekends of dog shows, Pet Expo demos, K9Ambassadors, Therapy Dog visit to the Library, Obedience Trial, finish up Agility class, start competition obedience class and last but not least the start of 4-H obedience classes. Forgot-find the garden and get that ready if all this damn snow has melted, plant the new grapes(200 or so of those), work the new horse and and....
My admin assistant asked me the other day what a typical day for me is. Little background, my admin asst lives in Minneapolis. Pam is owned by one of our former puppies, Clover. Pam is great at checking the website for problems or letting me know if I have something wrong. Then there's that gentle prompt--so what's new??? So she got hired as my admin asst. Love her for it, keeps me out of more trouble. Anyway, here's what I told her about my usual day.
Starts at 5 to 5:30 in the morning with a wake up call by my hubby, who has been up since 4:30 or earlier. He's already let a few dogs out, showered, breakfast and ready to head out to the barn for morning chores. I wander to the shower, which is usually accompanied by Clairee and Moose laying right outside the tub. An audience, love it. My goal is to get dressed, makeup and hair done by 6:20 so that any unexpected happenings don't make me any later out the door then 6:45. The shuffle is on with various dogs in and out, get Meredith up, feed, dressed and ready, ducks to water, feed and collect a random egg. Trying to remember if the pills in my hand are for me or a specific dog, then going over the nightly plans-who's home, who's not, what meetings are going on, then a final kiss to everyone and out we go, on our own merry but very separate ways.
Into work by 7 or 7:15. Daily reports, meetings, grumble about inventory, phone calls, orders, more meetings, end the day around 4 or 5-depends on how much grumbling I have to do about inventory. During the day I field emails, run errands if I have time at lunch. On the way home it's more errands and returning phone calls I missed during the day. Once home, it's a well greased wheel. Let dogs out if Alec already hasn't, empty and fill dishwasher, get dinner going. David heads out to the barn for chores. With the recent weather, yard clean up as not been happening, dreading to see what's under all that white stuff in the yard. Get in a little training session with one dog or another, and if there are not meetings, classes or what not for the night, after dinner, around 6:30 it's house work-vacuum, sweep, laundry, dust. Maybe groom a dog or two, chase a couple down to do nails, then sit at the computer to do show paperwork. Now if we have things going on that evening, it's out the door and all the house work has to wait till we get back. I think we are home by 9 most nights, so then it's let dogs out, pick up house-the dog toys are everywhere. Feed the crew and make sure I give the right pills to the right dog. Oh forgot, clean the cat and feed the litter box, wait I think that's feed the cat and clean the litter box-Meredith's job. Try to get a load of laundry done, feed and water the ducks-again. I might be in bed by 9:30 or it might be 11:30.
Only time things halt is for Wednesday nights for Men In Trees or Thursdays when new episodes of ER are on. Then totally throw the well laid plans out the window when David has to travel(lots of that this year) or Alec is out of town. Let's add a dash of winter weather, heavy rains, emergency vet visit, 'burb in the shop, well you kind of get it. Controlled Chaos.
And what about weekends? Dog show weekends leave David with a Honey Do list--see the snapping turtle post. Non dog show weekends, I attempt to sleep in till 6:30 or 7, that is if Hope isn't staring a hole right through you or Eddie is whining like a banshee. Time to catch up on laundry, house work, grooming, horses(the barn is a nightmare right now with all the water), errands into town, garden, grapes, mowing, poop scoop, all that stuff I managed to put off during the week. Church on Sunday, then time to decompress and watch or at least listen to the NASCAR race. My other luxury is renting a movie or late Sunday night watching Masterpiece Theatre.
Somewhere in there I manage to do private lessons, keep the website updated, clean dog stuff-crates, bedding and a random dog. Paint a bedroom-two of those need to be done. Cook-love to cook, ask Alisa. Sunday dinners at my house tend to be a gathering time for friends and family. Lately it's been trying to find things to do with duck eggs. Lots and lots of quiche, hard boiled duck eggs or scrambled eggs.
So that's a glimpse into Chaosville. A small glimpse ;0)
Oops, time to grumble about inventory again, later gators.....
C
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Perfection
Easter's coming up. Actually sooner this year as compared to others. So that means it's time to dig out the Easter baskets, load up on candy and boil the eggs. I love hard boiled eggs. This year due to the ducks, we are going to decorate hard boiled duck eggs. I might even get brave and attempt to blow out the eggs so we can keep them longer.
Hard boiled eggs are interesting. Everyone has their own way of doing them-start with cold water, add vinegar, leave them on for 10 mins, no 15 mins. My problem is remembering to start timing once the water boils. If I can catch it, then I usually end up with good eggs. If not, they have that greenish color around the yolks. Not harmful just not as pretty to look at. Then you have the peeling part. Did you know that the age of the egg is a key in successful peeling? Or so I have been told. For the most part, by trial and error, I've found that to be true. Fresh eggs just don't peel as well. Instead of having eggs available for deviled eggs, they end up as egg salad sandwiches.
People are like eggs too. Some like to be hard boiled-gone through a hard boil and well aged before the world gets a peak at the insides. Some have hard shells, impossible to crack and every now and then there's a bad egg in the bunch. We all run across those types. Over the years you tend to get a feel for them. The hard boiled old biddies that you think are soft and kind inside when really they are just overcooked, not too pretty to look at and have a bad taste. The bad eggs are getting easier to see now . Got that stink all over me once or twice and now know when to avoid.
Over time we realize that there is no perfect way to do any one thing. We all have our own ways of doing it. Sometimes we rely on the advise of others. Sometimes it's best to avoid it. The so called experts lead us to believe that what we are doing is right and good, yet those experts are only in it for their own good. Or even worse, their expertise comes from 10 or 15 years of impatient errors, the attitude of being superior and just plain ignorance of the real world around them. It gets easier to figure those bad eggs out, but sometimes in our own haste we are the ones that end up with egg on our face-being the fool for trusting in them.
As we seek that perfect hard boiled egg, it's easy to forget that perfection is an impossible goal. There's been a saying in the dog breeding world that we are to strive for the perfect example of the breed. We will never be able to have it, but it's a worth while goal that along the way has times where we have to back track but if we persist forward, continually making improvements, we will get close. It's those that start over again and again and oh, let's see how many times have they had to get a new bloodline or new dog just because their first attempt at perfection wasn't what they thought it to be? First off, once we attain perfection, what would there be left for us to do? Second, think about God. Where would we be if he started out with perfection-no Adam and Eve had a flaw, how else where they deceived by the devil? God is constantly adjusting the recipe, adding a dash of this, dollop of that, asking us to forgive, repent, confess, to move forward and to constantly seek our own personal perfection that in all honestly, will only be concluded in Heaven.
Till then, I'm going to adjust my hard boiled egg recipe again. Start with cold water, no vinegar, but carefully watch for when it starts to boil. Maybe this year we can enjoy our colored eggs in the basket and then be able to make some darn good deviled eggs.
Psalm 18:32 "It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect."
Later gators....
C
Hard boiled eggs are interesting. Everyone has their own way of doing them-start with cold water, add vinegar, leave them on for 10 mins, no 15 mins. My problem is remembering to start timing once the water boils. If I can catch it, then I usually end up with good eggs. If not, they have that greenish color around the yolks. Not harmful just not as pretty to look at. Then you have the peeling part. Did you know that the age of the egg is a key in successful peeling? Or so I have been told. For the most part, by trial and error, I've found that to be true. Fresh eggs just don't peel as well. Instead of having eggs available for deviled eggs, they end up as egg salad sandwiches.
People are like eggs too. Some like to be hard boiled-gone through a hard boil and well aged before the world gets a peak at the insides. Some have hard shells, impossible to crack and every now and then there's a bad egg in the bunch. We all run across those types. Over the years you tend to get a feel for them. The hard boiled old biddies that you think are soft and kind inside when really they are just overcooked, not too pretty to look at and have a bad taste. The bad eggs are getting easier to see now . Got that stink all over me once or twice and now know when to avoid.
Over time we realize that there is no perfect way to do any one thing. We all have our own ways of doing it. Sometimes we rely on the advise of others. Sometimes it's best to avoid it. The so called experts lead us to believe that what we are doing is right and good, yet those experts are only in it for their own good. Or even worse, their expertise comes from 10 or 15 years of impatient errors, the attitude of being superior and just plain ignorance of the real world around them. It gets easier to figure those bad eggs out, but sometimes in our own haste we are the ones that end up with egg on our face-being the fool for trusting in them.
As we seek that perfect hard boiled egg, it's easy to forget that perfection is an impossible goal. There's been a saying in the dog breeding world that we are to strive for the perfect example of the breed. We will never be able to have it, but it's a worth while goal that along the way has times where we have to back track but if we persist forward, continually making improvements, we will get close. It's those that start over again and again and oh, let's see how many times have they had to get a new bloodline or new dog just because their first attempt at perfection wasn't what they thought it to be? First off, once we attain perfection, what would there be left for us to do? Second, think about God. Where would we be if he started out with perfection-no Adam and Eve had a flaw, how else where they deceived by the devil? God is constantly adjusting the recipe, adding a dash of this, dollop of that, asking us to forgive, repent, confess, to move forward and to constantly seek our own personal perfection that in all honestly, will only be concluded in Heaven.
Till then, I'm going to adjust my hard boiled egg recipe again. Start with cold water, no vinegar, but carefully watch for when it starts to boil. Maybe this year we can enjoy our colored eggs in the basket and then be able to make some darn good deviled eggs.
Psalm 18:32 "It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect."
Later gators....
C
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