Memories of Tessa - Part I

Memories of Tessa

Part I

When I first saw Tessa, she was in a cage at the pound and her name tag read "Samantha Marie". You might be expecting me to say it was 'love at first sight', but thankfully it was not.

Why thankfully? Because that day I was on a mission to find an adoptable playmate for Vince. We had recently lost Luc, our beloved Doberman (our first family dog together), and I was so heartbroken that I vowed to never love a dog again the way I loved Luc. We still had Pavoratti, the greyhound, but he was not the playful kind and we wanted more action for cutie-pie Vince.

So, on my second visit to the animal shelter in Kent WA, I strolled the aisles with a cold heart and calculating eye. Mid-size dog, not too small, not too big, not too old, short hair, friendly. And one that I DEFINITELY would NEVER love.

I saw 'Samantha' watching me through her cage door, and she was one of the few not barking. Visually she fit all my parameters, and the tag listed her age as 8 months old. The troubling news was that she had been returned to the pound twice after being adopted but no specific reasons were listed.

An attendant helped me get her outside for a short outdoor/leash trial. I watched the dog, felt nothing, and knew it would be a good match. David got a chance to see her before all the paperwork was filled out, and since he liked her we went ahead with the adoption.

Before bringing "Tessa" home (we had preselected the name: it means 'third' and she would be the third dog), she had to be spayed at the shelter. The day I picked her up was a few hours post-surgery, and she slept all the way home in the back of our old Volvo wagon.

Next up:  Part II - Tessa's New Life

Dream Log: 6

"Free Samples" june 24 2014

i was at work and saw a co-worker having to go under water for part of his job [no real visuals; just 'knew' about it].
stopped by somewhere on my way home [landscape company?], saw co-worker outside at his other job. several of his co-workers were walking shoulder deep in a cranberry pond, and carried him cradled in their arms crosswise and were using him to filter the pond. His head was toward me and kept going under but he kept smiling. I kept calling to him, "hey what's with the water theme today", and made comments to the people milling around, but no one seemed to hear me or notice I was there.
found myself inside the visitor's area of the winery for a special employee function, with lots of wine samples out. i had some red wine. my co-worker walked by a few times but we didn't talk. i saw a package of [can't remember--not food or beverage], and thought it was free like the wine samples so I picked it up and carried it around. eventually realized it wasn't free so put it down and went back to my seat. ate a giant blackberry from a complex plastic-bubble package, a 4-pack labeled 'the berry best' and priced at $7.95.  i wondered if i was supposed to be eating them.
co-worker came up and started talking to me; exec came up and kept eyeballing us and talking about needing to file something. Walked away shaking his head.

"...and that's when I woke up"

Dream Log: 5

"Woodpecker" april 2014

woodpecker keeps flying up to me, lands on my arm or back, lets me pet it. often shows up with a flower blossom in its mouth at which point I know it is a woodpecker/hummingbird mix. david keeps trying to get a picture of the bird on me so other people will believe my story, but it always takes him too long to get the camera fired up. we go to a busy park, kids and people everywhere, and I see the bird there, landing on people, and i realize he's just a fat, greedy bird begging for food scraps. the bird morphed into Bill, our real life gray cat, and i thought i had really been fooled thinking Bill was a bird, then i saw a second gray cat next to Bill and realized the bird had been real.
a snobby, professional woman and her male assistant were in the lobby at my job, met me, came back the next day and the woman went into my bosses office and came out saying that i was to go to lunch with her and the assistant. i make sure i have my interview portfolio with me, assuming they are going to offer me a job. we drive into and through a city. i decide to decline a job because she is too highstrung.

"...and that's when I woke up"

Dream Log: 4 (sort of)

A couple weeks agoI had a dream that was so cool and detailed, that I missed breakfast and was nearly late to work because I took the time to write it out on two pieces of paper. Those papers went in my robe pocket...and now I can't find them. 

Oh well, it was a good one, and if I find the pages I will place it in the Dream Log.

Dream Log: 3

"Work Party" april 2014

invited to private party in warehouse, two female security let us (me & hubby) in.  I make a drink, put it down, mingle, time passes. help to pack up the bar-- a few guys were putting the boxed up stuff high up on shelving. went back to work at my cubicle, woke up at my desk with a retired VP looking over my cubicle on the right, and I realize I'm wearing a robe and have my feet up on the desk, then I realize the room is dark and there's loud music playing and my co-workers are dancing. The current VP is standing at the front cubicle wall, and has been watching me sleep and says 'so...I guess you know you'll have to take personal time for this', I just nod my head then the HR manager walks up with a veil over the lower part of her face and asks if I'm okay and then walks off.

"...and that's when I woke up"

Dream Log: 2

"Special Screen" april 2014

I am poised with my teammates in front of the special screen where we can see through to the people on the other side who are in a different time/location than us. one teammate reminds me of Jonathan Frakes (aka Riker in STNG) and he is in a unitard, doing stretches before we commence the assault through the screen. plan seems to be when the bad guys are in a certain proximity to the screen (they appear as silhouettes to us) we will jump through the screen and materialize in their time/location and take them down. the moment comes and the other three step through the screen and are gone from my view, i hesitate then stick my hand through, see it disappear without pain, and then step through. i have missed the time portal and i see no one but am in a long narrow room with hutches full of chickens nesting, and cats are running rampant. i look around a bit, then find and leave via a door on the side, back out to where my teammates are standing in front of the now blank screen, and i feel silly for not having just stepped back out through the screen.

"...and that's when I woke up"

Dream Log *** NEW BLOG FEATURE! ***

Many people go to sleep at night; time passes; they wake up and move on with their day. They have no memory of their REM sleep activities, and while some don't care, I imagine many are curious about what happens in dreamworld.

If you are not one to remember your dreams, I hope you get some enjoyment out of mine in this and future posts.

Sometimes I remember dreams for just moments, a few minutes, or until they fade away in the daylight, but other dreams affect me to my core and never leave me entirely. Certain ones from years ago I can conjure up in images or feelings by concentrating and bringing them into focus. It is not rare for me to be in a dream, and recognize the place from a previous 'dream' and and try to finish what I was doing before, or wonder if the ending will turn out different this time.

I believe dreams are a combination of my mind burning off nervous energy, crunching on problems my conscious mind was too noisy for, and visualizing actions and behaviors that my inhibition shut down in waking life. I don't believe dreams 'predict' life events, but certain ones if studied can bring buried feelings or ideas to the surface and help influence a choice that steers a life event.

Even so, I invite and encourage any dream interpretations you would like to offer in the comment section below. I already know I'm a wacko, so you can't hurt my feelings!

Now, the first entry in my *** NEW BLOG FEATURE! *** Dream Log 

"Trail" april 2014

i went walking up a trail into the woods, kept walking and walking, became evening and I was up to super high elevation, barren rock ahead of me, so high they look like gray icebergs in the sky. i become mostly weightless like being on the moon, floating a few steps on the rock formations, know that the temperature is frigid but don't feel cold. saw distant town/science station, know I have to get there and find a place to go in because I was just out for a hike, not prepared for a long time out. suddenly there, meet normal woman running equipment, she tells me to make sure I look at the view before i go, [can't remember the view but I looked at it through a window], while i was looking, members of my family [can't remember which ones] were suddenly there too, and i wondered how they got there so fast

"...and that's when I woke up"

Look Out Below!

Fun Fact:

Every few days I go up in the barn loft to throw down a few bales of hay.

Sometimes the chickens are wandering around below and I don't want to squash them,

so I toss down a handful of hay and shout 

the SKY is falling, the SKY is falling!

 I'll be darned if those chickens don't run for their lives.

May I Have A Few Words With You?

Recently, I have been playing Words With Friends. In fact, not just Words With Friends with friends, but starting up games using the "Random opponent" option. So audacious!

This game covers a lot of bases for me:

• distraction from thinking about work (and/or doing any!)
• brain exercise (a necessity in my family line)
• vocabulary expander
• intelligent competition
• practicing perseverance after defeat
• enjoying the thrill of victory

Plus, I have fond memories of spending hours with the Scrabble board and a family member shouting "Come on, come on! Just choose something!" (Hmmm, sounds like a good name for a blogger...)

Employing the "Random opponent" option on Words has been interesting: 

When I'm playing a Random, I'm not nearly as shy about going for the big point tiles (Triple Word, Triple Letter, etc) and letting loose my score-seeking missiles.

Had the best game of my online life recently with a Random. In fact, I got so intense about the back and forth point-slam that I passed up an opportunity to hot tub with my husband, and ignored the horses staring at me from beside the empty hay racks. My anonymous opponent and I battled to the death, and we ended up tied with 417 points a piece and no letters left! Awesome!

Not so awesome was starting a game with a Random, and being immediately asked (in the chat bubble) "what is your sex/age/location?" Hoping it was just a curious natured person, I replied back, "Hey, how bout if we just play".  The response came back quickly, and my Random identified himself as male, 22, from a large city in Columbia. I immediately 'resigned' the game and changed my screen name...

There seems to be a team of quitters on this virtual playfield. Someone accepts a Random invitation, then quits playing if they don't move ahead in points right away. Silly, really, because the letters move in and out of your possession, and you can go from all vowels one minute to an 8-word combo the next. Well, I guess it's easier to quit when no one can see your face.

I admit to using a 'word finding' application when I get in a jam, or need to make a quick play because I need to sign off. Also, I will often use the app to create the first word on the board, since a nice long starter word is key to a setting up plenty of opportunities for both players.

If you aren't already playing Words With Friends, and enjoy Scrabble, give it a try. Find someone who plays in the same style you enjoy, but don't be afraid to play outside your comfort zone once in awhile.

P.S. One sign of addiction to this game is if you take your Android phone out to the barn with you, and between chores you climb up into the hay loft and lay down on the uppermost ledge with your arms outstretched to snag the evasive Wi-Fi signal from the house, so you can check if your opponent has played a word yet.  That's what I read somewhere, anyway...

Against the Flow

Yesterday and today the deep freeze temperatures gave way to 40-plus degrees. I celebrated the temperature, sunshine, and sweet blue sky by taking a walk during my 30-minute lunch at work. I've been going through some difficult emotions lately, and this outdoor time is crucial to my well being.

Thanks to several months of snow and ice, my usual walking path was off limits. So, I walked on the road in the business complex. As sometimes happens during my lunchtime walks, I was struck by a profound thought: 

Walk with the flow of traffic, and you risk being struck down from behind by someone you didn't see coming. Walk against the flow, and oncoming traffic automatically gives you the right of way, sometimes going well outside their bounds to make sure you can continue on safely.

Pretty good thing to keep in mind when you're striking out on a new life path, and fear having to go against the flow of things for awhile to get where you're going.

Milestone! (But who's counting...)

Which Came First...

...the Chicken or the Egg?

Maybe they both showed up at the same time...

One of our hens sculpted this

Turned To Stone

Yesterday evening after work, I went out to the barn to check on the residents. I tucked the hens and roosters in bed, plumped up the horses' hay stash, and picked crusted eye goo off the goat. (More on all the residents in later postings)

Two brown hens are currently living in the front tack room for medical reasons, and share quarters with Mrs. Parker. (More on them later, too) It's a small room, made smaller by the defunct chest freezer in which I store feed, the bin that holds 4 hay bales, several wall-mounted cabinets, and a staircase that goes up to the hay loft.

The two hens hang out on a bed of loose hay under the stairs, and I have to stoop over and squish under so I can move each hen over, gather up any soiled hay (I wear disposable gloves), and pitch it out behind me. And so it was last night, except I decided to stand up with the gob of poopy hay in my hand and pitch it into the corner by the hay bin.

That's when I saw it.

Just three paces away, against the opposite wall, was a skunk. It wasn't black with a white stripe, but my brain screamed "SKUNK!" so. I. stopped. moving. I turned to stone. Unfortunately, my arm was still up in the air, cocked to throw the gob of poopy hay right where the skunk was standing, and I was petrified it would drop to the ground and startle my little guest.

Because that would be a bad thing.

We eyeballed each other for several long moments, and it appeared to debate its options while I freely admired the creature's cream-colored, shaggy locks and long, feathery tail. Then, in awful slow motion, I lost sight of its eyes as it turned around...

...and scampered out the tack room door and around the corner, deeper into the barn. This was good for me at the moment, but not the barn residents. See, skunks have a motto: "Don't care which came first, the chicken or the egg; they both taste great!"

Now, since I obviously didn't get a photo of my surprise visitor, I surfed the net and came up with a beautiful example, courtesy of Fertanish.com

See what I mean about the tail? Because I'd never seen anything like this before, I did a little research, and this variety of skunk is call "Hooded" as opposed to the "Striped" that we're all familiar with. According to the Internet Center for Wildlife Damage Management:

The hooded skunk (Mephitis macroura) is identified by hair on the neck that is spread out into a ruff. It is 28 inches (71 cm) long and weighs the same as the striped skunk. It has an extremely long tail, as long as the head and body combined. The back and tail may be all white, or nearly all black, with two white side stripes.

The hooded skunk [is] much less common than striped and spotted skunks. Hooded skunks are limited to southwestern New Mexico and western Texas.

Which is funny, because my barn is located in Ohio...

Welcome Home Page

I have published a Welcome page, with links to a home page for each of my subjects. This is mostly to help out any newbies that may stumble on my site, but hopefully it will be useful in general. 



Because I tend to write long, rambling posts, I have installed a feature for my readers' benefit:
a "Back to the Top" button! After you have scrolled down one page, a floating BTT icon shows up on the bottom right side of the post. Now you don't have to scroll back up manually--just click the button.

Do you like the changes? Do you have any suggestions for additional improvements?

My Precious Homegrown Red Kidney Beans

I grew several kidney bean plants in the garden last year as an experiment. They did quite well, and I ended up harvesting 1 ½ quart jars of dried beans. Until now, I haven’t gotten around to soaking them in time to use them for a meal, so they’ve been waiting patiently in the pantry. 

Last week, I planned to make a pot of chili on the weekend, and David reminded me to soak some of the homegrowns. (At least I think that’s what he meant by “go soak yourself”). After doing a quick internet search about dried bean procedure (red kidney beans, unlike many other beans  are toxic when raw, so prep is important) I put a bunch of my precious homegrown red kidney beans in water and set them aside.

Now, had I paid attention to what I researched, I would have:

1. measured the beans and bean-to-water ratio
2. checked how long they should soak
3. read beyond the soaking and into the cooking

But, armed with my inferior knowledge, things went a little less than optimal:

1. I got around to draining & rinsing two days later, which affects nutrition, flavor, texture and color
2. David had to add more water when he saw the mass swelled to the top of the container, gasping for liquid
3. I did not cook the beans first before adding them to my chili recipe

So far, doesn’t sound too bad, right? I mean, they're just beans after all. It’s just a pot of chili for the two of us that no one else has to know about; not like Martha’s coming over. Unfortunately, my chili recipe calls for several types of canned beans to be added, and canned beans are already cooked. So, [wait for it, let me reach the punchline] when I tested the chili after three hours of cooking on high in the slow cooker, my precious homegrown red kidney beans were ROCK HARD!  CRAP! Crap, crap, crap!

After a brief freak-out, the solution became clear: We couldn’t eat it safely; I couldn’t just let it cook all night because everything else would turn to total mush; and I couldn’t bear to throw any or all of it away. So I started a pot of water on the stove, and began picking my precious homegrown red kidney beans ONE AT A TIME out of the chili.

Now, some of you may also have had the opportunity to fish for precious homegrown red kidney beans in a pot of thousands of other beans covered by simmering tomato and meat sauce; if so, you know how much fun I had with my slotted spoon and food tweezers. 

30 minutes later, I boiled the salvaged beans for 20 minutes, then added them back into the chili, and all is well. I think so, anyway, because we didn’t eat it that night since I couldn’t bear to look at or think about chili for awhile. David did a taste test when putting it away, and said “they” were still a little firm but okay. So, a few days marinating in fridge might do them some good.

Is it any surprise I'm not the head chef around here anymore? Oh well, for any future employers reading this: I admit my mistakes and I'll go to great lengths to correct (and eat) them.

Who switched our puppy with an old dog?

11-28-1999
Vince, 2 months old, first day at home after being adopted 

Just a wee bit bigger than an apple

After the cutest puppyhood ever and 14 zesty years, Vince is beginning to succumb to age and is having some health problems. He has been doing quite well, and we've all adjusted to his (alleged) deafness by waving our arms and pointing alot. He gets a little cranky with Frank, our other male, so we keep them separate.

Our illusion of Vince's immortality was threatened recently after a vet visit. He went with his four dog buddies for annual checkups and shots. Immediately afterward, Vince became lethargic and unable to stand or walk. He drank water, but had no appetite and not enough energy to lift his head. I had college friends visiting at the time, and they were obviously convinced (as was I) that our senior buddy was in his final hours.

While I was avoiding despair and heartlessly cavorting with my friends, David researched medical canine issues and convinced me later that Vince was simply having a bad reaction that would pass. Plus, he had good news that Vince had eaten some food.

Fast forward one week: Vince is able to get up and go outside on his own; do his "business" and come back in or stay outside on a pad. We are still having to encourage him to eat, and after concluding that his kidneys are stressing (very common for senior dogs, and a known reaction to vaccinations) we are feeding him a kidney-friendly diet.
I cooked up a big batch of rice and chicken, both low in phosphates which are difficult for kidneys to process, and a batch of elbow macaroni and ground steak (low phosphates, high quality protein). (Yes, I ground the steak bits myself in the KitchenAid attachment--go ahead and make fun of this over-zealous dog lover.) Sometimes Vince gets non-dairy whipped topping on his food because it's high in calcium and low in phosphorus. (I think I'll use that line this Thanksgiving when I put half a tub on a piece of pumpkin pie...)

Vince is sending out his message:
I won't live forever, so enjoy me while I'm here.
 And for crying out loud give me another piece of steak!

I'm sure Vince would appreciate any comments on his behalf, especially any memories some of you may have of him.

It's Not What It Sounded Like

This morning in the bathroom I told Frank:  "Careful, this white powder will really mess up your nose."

Get your mind out of the gutter! Frank is one of our dogs, and he was standing near when I was applying baby powder...




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Pssst! $3 Per Ounce Will Score You the Good Stuff

This is the first post in a new blog category:  "Potpourri"
for topics that don't belong anywhere in particular.

Last weekend I harvested half the hops 

This is the second year for my experiment with growing hops, and they really performed well this year despite the wet, weird weather. I grew them for the first time last year for a coworker that was brewing his own beer. This year he's on to something else, so I'm selling the harvested, packaged cones at $3 an ounce; internet market value.


David, as usual, pitched in to help with my experiment, and built the 20-ft framework that supports the hops bines (similar to, but different than vines) as they grow. He also devised the system by which we raise and lower the bines. This is necessary because the top half of the hops are ready to harvest sooner than the ones on the bottom, due to getting started sooner, and getting the first kiss of the sun.

Here are some post-harvest pictures, after the hop cones had been dried for a few days on a screen in the greenhouse. Sorry about the fuzzy picture--that's what happens when you're too lazy to put your glasses on to see if it's in focus or not... 

Some browing of the leaf tips is okay, but I think mine may be showing signs of improper watering, according to my research. The yellow stuff between the petals is what the brewers are after. According to several internet sources: "It is the 'yellow powder' or lupulin glands within the hop scales which contain all the acids and essential oils responsible for the hop character."