Christmas Lights

Last night we went to River Forks Park, outside Roseburg, to drive through the Winter Wonderland Christmas display of lights.  It was really cool, though it turned out to be a crystal-clear night, so no eerie mist effects.  Figures.  It's always misty in the valley.  Oh well, it was fun, and as it was Monday night, there were hardly any people there and we could drive very slow and take our time.  I managed to get some photos; pretty amazing as it was pitch dark.

You followed the path down one side of the park, then along the other side, with some twists and turns here and there, and in fact, you drove without your headlights on.  You would think, with all the display lights, etc., that you could navigate easily.  Not so, as we found out at one juncture when Alan drove over a curb and onto the flaming grass!!  That conversation went as follows:

"What the hell are you doing?" I shriek as we jolt over the curb and start towards Lady Liberty.

"What?" says Alan, thankfully braking.

"You're on the grass!!"

"No I'm not.  I'm following the arrows."  Huffy.

"The arrows are going to the left, not straight ahead!  You're half on the grass.  Back up."

"I'm not on the grass."

"@&$)&^_(*?@++$*%!!!!!"

Alan rolls down his window.  Realizes we are over the curb and driving into the Statue of Liberty, sighs, and as we jolt back onto the pavement, mutters, "Sorry."

Since we're stopped, and there's no one behind us (thank goodness), I say, "Well, as long as we're here, let me get a photo."  Being so close, it turned out pretty good.

It's never dull in my world.

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Here's the entrance to the park.  It was really pretty, much better than my photo, though you can imagine how bright and Christmasy it was to drive through.

Umpqua Valley display, with deer, mountains, waterfalls, trees.

Roseburg's train, and station.  (Which I have to say was odd as the train station in town is now a restaurant).

Even with the "Night" feature on my camera, I had to hold very still when taking each shot.  In this case, the Jack-in-the-box changed very quickly when he popped out of his box, and I got two versions of him before he dropped out of sight.  I like this one.

There were several scenes from The Nutcracker.  The horse actually rocked, though far slower than Jack, so in this photo it looks stationary.

This carousel was really cool.  The lights for the horses made it look like they were actually going around.  When I snapped this, I only managed to get these two.

Ah.  And, here we are, all up close and personal with Lady Liberty.

I was surprised to see that the tree given to the White House for the Holiday Tree came from here in 2002.  Though I suppose I shouldn't be.  This is Big Tree Country, after all.

I think this is my favorite one.  It came out just right, and was very beautiful as the fireworks went off all around the flag.  I took this when all the fireworks had burst, though it took me a few tries to get the timing right.

This isn't a great shot, but I wanted to show one side of the main road.  At the Statue of Liberty, we turned left (Yes, Alan, left!!) for the second part of the drive.

 

On this next half of the tour, there were all kinds of strange things, not particularly related to Christmas, but still great light displays, like this one of Neptune.  There were three seahorses, but they lit up very slowly in their sequence so I was only able to get one in the photo at a time.

As always, you can't go anywhere in the world without some reference to Scotland: Nessie made an appearance.

At the end of the drive, there was this great side trip through snowflakes and angels and candy canes.

The snowflakes twinkled and were really pretty in the dark.  I also loved the candy canes.

As we made the turn out of the park, Alan said, "Look up in that tree."  Way, way up in a gigantic Fir tree...the Christmas Angel...

We had a good time--even with the attempt to take down Lady Liberty with our car.  It was a perfect night to hang out the window and take pictures.  We were most impressed with the lavish displays, and the time and effort involved to assemble this whole Winter Wonderland.  It was a great way to kick off the Holiday Season.

Another Monday

I went on a binge this weekend.  Not food, not alcohol.  Books.  It was glorious, and something I haven't done for ages.  And also why I didn't post yesterday...I was lost in my books.

Saturday, after taking Oz to the park, we went by the only bookstore worth mentioning in all of Roseburg:  While Away Books.  It's a used bookstore, but filled to overflowing with...well...obviously books.  The only other place for books is a very small--about as big as my living room--Walden's at the mall.  Normally I order books online, but every now and then, I just get desperate for a real, honest-to-goodness bookstore.  (I have to question a town that doesn't have a good bookstore.  It's one of my main complaints about living here).

Anyway.  I didn't find what I was looking for, but picked up a book by an author I had not read before, just to have something for a rainy, cold Saturday afternoon.  It turned out to be one of the funniest books I've read in I don't know how long.  It was so good, after Ozzy's walk on Sunday, we went back to While Away and I bought another one by the same writer.  And that one was even funnier.  Seriously, I laughed out loud several times, and the last 50 pages were so hysterical, I had to stop reading a few times to wipe away the tears.

If anyone's interested, the author is Jennifer Crusie; the two books were:  Welcome to Temptation, and the sequel, Faking It.  Temptation took place in a small town in Ohio, called, what else, Temptation; sequel was about art forgery.  Both were very, very funny.

Two days of reading, two days of laughter, and all for under $5.00.  You can't get a better deal than that.

Course, it wasn't just lazing about reading.  In between the books, we also finished our Christmas cards, took Ozzy on his walks, I made a delicious soup that filled the house all afternoon yesterday with homey, comfort smells as the rain pelted down outside in buckets, and talked to my friend Morag in Scotland for a bit, catching up on news, etc.  It's always great to talk to her, though it does make me homesick.

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Dr Barrie called this morning to ask about Ozzy.  What a wonderful vet he is.  Not only because he kept Ozzy out of doggy heaven with his skill and expertise, but because he cares.  We had a brief conversation about his food, and it might be that Oz is on this gastrointestinal stuff for the rest of his days, though that's okay if it means he doesn't get sick again.  We'll be reviewing all this after the 30 days on the diet is over, sometime in December.

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I finished off the last remnants of the turkey yesterday by making a gigantic pot of Turkey and Dumplings.  I used the family recipe for dumplings this time and got the fluffy, yummy ones Mom used to make, instead of the gnocchi ones from my last attempt.  The soup was really good, though I have so much left, we will either be eating it all week, or half the freezer will be filled with dinner-sized containers.

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Tonight we may go to the big county park where they have a mile and a half drive, through the park, of a Winter Wonderland, with lots of lights and displays, etc.  About three weeks ago, we were talking to the park ranger guy and he said it was just beautiful if you come on a misty evening as everything glows and it's very mysterious.  Since it's always misty in the valley, that should work out just fine.  If we go, I will try to take some photos to post tomorrow, though I don't know how any pictures will work in mist, in the dark.  Still.  I'm game to try.  Last night, from our vantage point up the mountain, we could see Christmas lights on several houses down below, and I expect as the days go by, we will have our own little Winter Wonderland without even leaving the house.  Cool.

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And last, but not least, I saw this cute, funny video this morning of two cats playing Patty Cake, while two guys do the cats' voices.  It's pretty clever, to say nothing of how the cats really look like they're playing Patty Cake.

 Video from Miss Cellania

Day Off

I'm going to take today off.  I might even read a book.  Since the NaNo competition is over for me this year, my mind has relaxed a bit and I could use a much-needed break from the frustration/anxiety/drama of everything that's happened in this wretched month--excluding the joy of my new shoes and waffle iron, of course.

So, back tomorrow, hopefully with refreshed brain cells.  I will continue to write my second book, just not under the pressure of hammering out the last 17K+ words by midnight on Tuesday.  I'm very disappointed, but am also enjoying my new-found freedom.

On the other hand...maybe a nice, long afternoon nap is in order...

Photo courtesy of Amo

Black Friday -- Part Deux

What an experience!!  After my haircut--which went very well considering I usually end up with the wear-a-bag-over-my-head-for-two-weeks-after hair style--I elbowed my way into the sea of people shopping with a manic frenzy.  Seriously, it was bad...though oddly exhilarating at the same time.

First, I went to the shoe department at Macy's because I had a birthday gift card from my sister, and she told me the other day there were some new Clarks.  My favorite.  Since I need to replace the slip-on mules that have made me fall and/or trip numerous times--(Oooh, wait.  Save the Words!!  Let's start over with one of my adopted words).  Since I need to replace the mules that have caused me to labascate several times, I was definitely in the market for some new shoes.

Remember these from a post last spring??  Man, I loved these shoes.  They fit like a dream and had traveled the world with me for ten years.  Sigh...it killed me to throw them away.  I still miss them.

BUT.  Today I found their replacement.  Felt like they were made for my feet from the second I put them on.  I have to thank my sister profusely; first for the gift card, and second for the head's up they were at Macy's.  (It's sort of shocking really that the original ones once looked as good as these.)

Then I browsed around the store, looking for Christmas things, got some ideas, overheard lots of weird conversations, and jabbed elbows with others doing the same.  It was actually fun, in a mad, insane sort of way.  So, I'm wandering around the kitchenware department, half-heartedly looking for a waffle iron.

Wait.  Let me backtrack a second here...

I have been on an heroic quest for the old-fashioned kind of waffle iron, with just the two round burners that moosh together, with the small squares; like when I was a kid.  Everything now is Belgian style: holes are too big, it's square, some of them are double-doubles, and others rotate, for crying in the night.  I have looked in store after store, department after department.  I had truly given up and was teetering on the brink of a) never having a waffle iron again, or b) sucking it up and getting a Belgian one.

Okay, so I'm wandering around the kitchen department and see this huge display of griddles, Belgians (not the people), and other appliances.  Just as I'm turning away, I see this little box in the far corner of the display.  My heart begins to pound.  OMG!!  Could it be true???

YES!!!!   I nearly knocked over a little old lady as I barreled forward and snatched the box off the shelf.  Notice the key word under Cuisinart??  Classic.  Exactly. Classic like the perfect black dress, or single strand of pearls, or the best-loved pair of Clarks.  And it was on sale for Black Friday!!!  Oh, what a perfect day.  New shoes and a real waffle iron.

I come home a few hours later, euphoric from the whole experience.  Alan asks if I bought him anything.  

I smile and say, "Yes, I did," and I do the whole Broadway production of taking the box out of the bag, including a little dance and some ta da fanfare.  

He stares, blinks, then says, "You bought me a waffle iron?"  

I say (a bit possessive, I freely admit), "NO!  The waffle iron is mine."  (There could have been some snarling on my part here, too).

"But then," he says in confusion, "if the waffle iron is really yours, I don't understand what I get."  

"Waffles, dear.  You get the waffles!!"

Smiling faces all around.

Black Friday

It seems like the most unlikely name for the day after Thanksgiving.  Conjures up images of doom and gloom, doesn't it..??  I was reading this morning about the why of this title, and had I given it any thought, it makes sense.  Accounting term for "in the black" meaning profit not loss.  Go figure.  Still, you'd think a more cheerful name for the busiest shopping day of the year would be more appropriate.

Unfortunately for me, last week I made a hair appointment for 11:00am this morning...at the mall.  Been out of the country for so long, I forgot all about the madness and mayhem of this particular day.  Hopefully I will get a parking space within five miles of the hair place.  And, since I'm dumb enough to be out there during such an event, I might as well do some Christmas shopping while I'm at it.

Ozzy had another undisturbed night.  Cripes, I feel like a new mother who's baby has finally gotten to the "sleep through the night" stage.  He seems to be doing really well, though it was a struggle yesterday with the turkey.  He loves his turkey, and just couldn't get over the fact we weren't sharing.  Too bad he can't ever have it again, poor wee thing.

Okay, time to go get scalped...in more ways than one, no doubt.

Two Little Movies...

I have a feature on my camera that will take short videos.  Unfortunately, during the move I lost the manual that tells me how to do it.  This morning I found it..!!  This is an experiment, using Ozzy as the victim star.  Hopefully, it will work.

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Yippee..!!  It actually uploaded..!!  Course, this was the first video, ever, and could I get the little bugger to face the camera..???  I wanted to show his Ugg boots, but naturally, he decided to turn away.  I took another one, which follows this.

Not much better on the "Ozzy models Ugg boots" idea, but you can see that he's perking up and getting back to his normal self.  Now that I have mastered this feature on the camera--okay, barely scratched the surface--be forewarned you will all be bored stiff with videos...though I still have to find the audio.  Oh well, one miracle at a time.

Correction:  I posted the blog, played the videos and guess what..??  The audio works and the lovely background noises are from me clucking at Ozzy, and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on the telly.  I really need to figure out this camera...

Thanksgiving

 

For those of you who don't eat turkey...

...my wild friends up here on the mountain give thanks, too.

And, hey...if anyone talks Thanksgiving trivia today, here's some facts:  They weren't called Pilgrims, no one knows if they really ate turkey, and they celebrated in late September, early October.  Weird how history gets rewritten, isn't it..??  (Cripes, in another fifty years, George W will probably come off looking like he saved the world, as opposed to ruining it.  Oh well, never mind--no time today for political nonsense.)

Instead, it's time for everyone to have a great day, enjoy your family and friends, stay safe if you're traveling, and don't hesitate to eat all the pie you can get your hands on...!!! 
  

HAPPY THANKSGIVING  !!!

Crash and Burn

Which is exactly what I did for most of the day yesterday.  I barely made it until lunchtime, then suddenly felt...weird.  I had a token lunch, then had to lay down on the couch; seriously, I had to.  I didn't fall asleep so much as conk out.  Late in the afternoon I woke up and made a cake.  Go figure.

I think what happened was all the fraughtness of the past three weeks finally caught up with me.  I've had to race from one crisis to another, deal with the frustration of not writing as planned, the agony of Ozzy's illness, no sleep, and once everything was over....bah dah boom:  watch her drop like a stone people...!!

When I emerged from the coma, I had an irresistible urge to make Paula Dean's Gooey Butter Cake Bars, but didn't have all the ingredients, then thought I would make some cupcakes, but had the same problem, so ended up making a cake from scratch out of my new cookbook.  It took forever, but turned out yummy.

Thank goodness I had the chili cooking throughout the day in the crock pot.  All I had to do was make the corn bread, which worked out really well since I was exhausted from making the scratch cake..!!  How in the world did women ever get out of the kitchen in the good ol' days..??

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When I first came back to life, it was near the gloaming outside, and as it had continued to lightly snow all day, the oak trees in the clearing next to the house looked really cool.

The photo isn't the best because it was getting dark.  Still, I like it.  It looks like a black and white picture, except for the hint of reddish pink from the Beech in the foreground that still has some leaves.  (We think it's a Beech, but we're not totally certain.)

I couldn't resist this shot.  I love these gnarly oaks that are everywhere up here on the mountain.  This one in particular is a favorite.  So twisted and cool.  The Beech (whatever) stands out more in this photo, too.

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Ozzy is making a rapid recovery.  We had a second undisturbed night, and today we went for a short walk up the road, with him prancing right along.  When we got back inside, he raced for his toy box and played for several minutes.  It's really, really good to see him improving day by day.

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I've pretty much thrown in the towel on NaNo.  I've lost so much time, there's virtually no way I can write 17K+ words in 6 days.  I'm still going to try, but I'm also being realistic.  I would have to write 3K per day, and with Thanksgiving tomorrow...well, you get the picture.  I guess all that's left to do now is pick which color...sigh.

Lovely photo from Linens 'n Things

Tuesday

Ozzy's now home, safe and semi-sound.  He's very tired, and ravenously hungry, so he eats and sleeps, which is fine with me.  He's lost a lot of weight and seems very tiny, like he was as a puppy.  Poor wee soul, he's had a very rough time of it.

They had to shave his forelegs, for the IVs, which makes him look like he's had a poodle cut on his legs.  If you look closely, or click to enlarge the photos, you can see his tiny little bones showing above his feet.  When he walks around it looks like he's wearing white Ugg boots.

After lots of love and attention from me, he settled down on the couch to get more from Alan.  Could he look more miserable and pathetic..??

I gave him some food, which he scarfed down like a starving creature, then he climbed into his big bed and conked out.

He's on an incredibly restricted diet--just the gastrointestinal dog food--for the next 30 days.  No treats, extra foods, and particularly NO GRASS.  He was so hungry this morning that I gave him more than I thought was good for him, though Alan thought he should just be able to eat as much as he wanted.  I said, "No, gorging could lead to throwing up or giving him diarrhea again."  But, since he was absolutely begging and crying for food, I called Dr B at 8:00am to ask how much is too much.  Happily (for Ozzy), he can have a can a day, if he wants (double the norm for a dog his size).  Course, eventually, when he's recovered, that will be too much, but for now, it's important to get some weight on him, and get his body back on track.

So.  He's home, though not himself.  But, with enough rest and food and care, I hope he'll be back to his normal, happy self before too long.  And another really good thing:  he actually slept through the night, and glory be, so did I..!!  Woo hoo...

Thanks to everyone for your worry and concern about Oz.  Let's hope--now his illness has been diagnosed, and his diet/food changed--that his life will now improve and he'll be a healthy wee dog from now on.

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We had a light dusting of snow overnight, and in fact it's snowing right now, though it's that "almost to cold to snow" snow:  minute, icy granules, rather than big puffy flakes.  I'm glad we don't have to drive down the mountain today; we got all our groceries and Thanksgiving perishables yesterday before we picked Oz up at the hospital, so I'm good to go.

Here's a couple of shots across the valley to the Coast Range Mountains.  Lovely light with the barest glimmer of sun shining through the clouds on the valley floor.

A closer view...

And on that note, it's time to make some chili and get the crock pot going before too much of the morning slides by.  Oh crap.  I forgot to take the turkey out of the freezer.  Nuts.  Gotta go.....

At Last...

Got a call from Dr B this morning: Ozzy will be home by this afternoon..!!  Most excellent news, though I have to confess, I'm still nervous that something will go wrong once he's not hooked to the fluids, etc.  But, according to the vet, he's finally eating like a horse (his words), enjoying his little walks, and hasn't been sick--either end--for days now.  It will be really, really great to see him, and have him home.

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The expected wild, winter storm seems to be approaching; each hour the clouds, wind and the view are changing outside my window.  It was truly cold last night, and the skies this morning have that "it's gonna snow" look.  There was lots more snow in the mountains this morning, and it's slowly creeping down from the higher elevations.  Tonight and tomorrow are to be the real snow periods; it will be interesting to see if we actually get any here at the house--those poor, inept weather folks don't have a great track record for accuracy.

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I've been trying to do the NaNo deal over the weekend, though my mind was half on the story and half on Ozzy.  It also hasn't helped that I haven't been sleeping very well, so the little gray cells aren't functioning in top form.  I should have reached at least 37K by yesterday (to finish by Nov 30), but the best I could do was crawl my way to 32K.  I might not make it to the winner's circle this year, but I guess I can console myself with the thought that, against the most bizarre odds this month, at least I tried.

I had an unexpected surprise at the end of my chapter last night....bwahhahaha.  Love how my characters can just take over the plot--and considering I can barely put a sentence together lately, that is a very good thing.

So, a happy day all around then.  Oz will be home, I have an exciting plot twist to play with, and it might snow any minute. 

Blateration

First, and foremost:  The Ozzy Update:

Dr B called last night to say Oz was doing fine, and had eaten his dinner.  But strangely, when he'd done the radiology test, he found a small ball of something in his stomach--he thought it was a dense wad of grass, which would make sense as he ate enough grass those last few days to feed an entire flock of sheep--but bizarrely, he also found little bones in his intestines.  Now, that was a total shock as he's never been given bones in his life, nor can we figure out how or when he could have eaten any.  Dr B said it looked like bird bones.  (And let me say here:  eeewww..!!).  There were several times last week when he was in the wooded area next to the house, in the middle of the pitch dark night, but I can't imagine--being as sick as he was--that he would have eaten a desiccated bird.  I asked Dr B what he was going to do (I'm dreading to hear that surgery is the next thing for Oz), but he said there was nothing to be done, and eventually these things would work out of his system naturally.

The phone call this morning was good.  He's eating well, and unless something very untoward happens, he gets to come home tomorrow.  That's really great news.  Maybe I will actually get some sleep tonight.

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Yesterday, or rather overnight yesterday, we got our first snowfall.  Nothing up here on the mountain, though it was really cold.  I took a few photos as it was such a surprise to walk out on the front deck and see snow across Roseburg.

Three photos, from the same place in the front yard, but at different ranges.  I love the wintry effect of the shots between the gnarly old oak trees.

We're supposed to be getting our first, real snowstorm over the next few days, though it's sunny and warm at the moment.  I'm not sure how I feel about the snow aspect, especially as it's to be quite bad on Tuesday with temps at 18* and loads of the white stuff.  Oh well.  If there's one thing we truly can't do anything about, it's the weather.  Might make for some good photos, if nothing else.

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The publishing house that does the Oxford Dictionary has started a website to Save The Words.  Words that are being dropped because they're either obsolete, rarely used, or have no meaning in the 21st century.  Some of these words are absolute gems and it would be a shame to lose them, so the publishing house came up with this great idea for people to adopt a word, and pledge to use it, say it, write it, email it, whatever.  I came up with eight words that are just too cool to be forgotten.  Two words in particular I plan on using in my book saga, mainly because they evoke some traits of my characters:  Scathefire--a great destructive fire; Nepheliad--cloud nymph.

A few I chose to adopt:

Blateration:  to blabber, or chatter

Latibule:  Hiding place

Veteratorian:  Subtle (which is a pretty funny word that doesn't seem to have anything to do with subtlety, does it?)

Labascate:  begin to fall, or slip (a word I should be very familiar with)

Perantique:  Very old or ancient (I love this word!!)

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An amazing bit of news:  The Budget truck is gone out of the driveway..!!!!  Woo hoo...!!!  After unrelenting bitching, nagging, harping complaining on my part, yesterday Alan told Rick (the contractor) to get rid of the flaming thing.  Since the garage floor is basically done, they unloaded the truck, put everything in one corner of the garage, and Rick drove it away.  What a relief.  There's still some finish work (of course there is), but for the most part, by tomorrow, we should be done with this wretched ordeal.  Now, whether the floor will hold the primer/paint/sealer is another story, but as I keep saying--over and over and over:  It's just a bloody garage floor people..!!!!!

Setback

The vet just called.  Ozzy will not be coming home today after all.  He's not eating, and though this morning he had a good breakfast, now he won't touch the food.  Dr B said that usually--not always, but normally--once a dog starts to recover from an illness, they are ravenous and scarf down their food.  Ozzy isn't.  So, he's staying in the hospital until Monday.  They are going to do some further tests today, like x-rays on his abdomen to rule out blockages or foreign objects, though that is precautionary rather than an expectation of finding anything.

I'm relieved on one hand that he's staying, and will be getting the care and attention he needs; on the other hand I really just want my poor, wee dog to come home.

Homecoming

The video below just about covers my current state.  You would think that over these past two days without Ozzy getting us up every half hour for a week, that I would easily conk out at night and sleep, no problem.  Ha.  All I do is toss and turn (or watch the Science Channel), and am just as exhausted today as I have been during this whole terrible ordeal.

Courtesy of Miss Cellania

The vet has just called this morning to say Ozzy can come home later this afternoon, IF he continues to improve.  Apparently he's eating well, and hasn't been sick or had diarrhea since Thursday.  I'm very nervous about this.  It's one thing to have him hooked to IV fluids and be monitored hourly by professionals; it's quite another to unhook him and send him home.  When I said this to Dr B, he said if he didn't think Ozzy was fit enough to be released, he wouldn't let him go.  I guess I have to trust his judgement, don't I..??

It will be soooo great to have him home.  It's just amazing how a tiny, 8-lb dog can fill a house.  Alan and I wander around in the deafening silence, pause to stare at each other, and wander off again.  It's dreadful.  So, crossed fingers that he actually will get home today, won't have a relapse, and will keep getting stronger as the days go by. 

Better News Today

We got two updates from Dr Barrie (the vet) yesterday.  The first phone call, around Noon, was very worrying as it turned out Ozzy was severely, dangerously dehydrated, which can lead to imminent death in a tiny dog.  That was a horrible surprise to us as he'd been drinking water regularly at home so we weren't concerned about that part of his illness.  He had also lost 7 ounces of body weight in just a few days, due to the dehydration.  Again, in a wee dog, so not good.

The second update, close to 6:00pm last night was a bit better.  He was responding to the massive amounts of fluids, antibiotics and whatever else they were pumping into him, though Dr Barrie had run some further tests and found that Oz had a severe (and don't you hate that word?) inflammation in his gastrointestinal tract, understandable really with all the diarrhea and vomiting and dehydration.  In effect, if we hadn't taken him to the hospital, I pretty much think he wouldn't be here today.  What a terrible, horrifying thought.

We collapsed into bed very early, and I expected to fall dead asleep from the exhaustion of this past week, but no.  Like a little kid when they get too tired and wind up rather then down, I couldn't shut off my brain.  Round and round, guilt, anxiety, remorse...you know, all those middle-of-the-night mind parasites.  I was up until 2:30 this morning.  If anyone wants to know about exploring Mars, Saturn and/or Saturn's moon, Titan, just ask me...I watched all three programs on the Science Channel last night.

This morning at 8:00, Dr Barrie called with today's update.  Ozzy is bright-eyed and alert, hydrated, and hasn't had a single bout of diarrhea or throwing up, though he won't eat the low-fat, low-everything food they are trying to feed him.  Dr B said he might do some radiology tests this afternoon, mostly to check out his lower GI tract, but said it was more important right now to let him recover, start to eat something, and get stabilized.  The tests done yesterday have shown that he is basically a healthy little guy, other than this pancreatitis/intestinal issue, of course.  We discussed when he might come home, though I said I would rather he stayed longer, than bring him home to have a relapse that would start this whole nightmare all over again.  Dr B agreed, and said he would call later today.

So, wee Ozzy has been yanked back from the abyss, but is not quite out of the woods just yet.  At least the news is better today, and he's being given the best of care.

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On a totally different note--though dog-related--I read a great blog post this morning that brightened my day, just a little.  It's long, though lavishly sprinkled with cartoon drawings from the author, and very funny.  The post is about her two dogs, and a recent move she, her partner and the dogs made from Montana to Oregon.  It's worth the read if you want a smile...

Not A Good Day

Last night we got the test results on Ozzy's blood work.  He has been diagnosed with Pancreatitis, though it's still up in the air if he has acute or chronic.  Apparently, in a normal situation, the pancreatic enzyme count is between 5 and 35, 35 being borderline.  Ozzy's counts were off the chart--literally--which tops out at 50.  Unfortunately, since Oz has struggled off and on with diarrhea and stomach upsets for most of his life, I fear he might possibly have both acute and chronic pancreatitis.  Needless to say, this is supremely bad news.

I had a long discussion with the vet about next steps, the first one being he will need an ultrasound to see the extent of damage to his pancreas and surrounding organs--if there is any--and dependent on what that shows, he will have to have further tests, biopsies, etc.  The vet asked if he was throwing up, or still had diarrhea.  I said no to the first and yes to the second.  She told me if things got worse or he started vomiting, he would have to be admitted to the hospital, but as long as he was eating, and seemed on the mend, he could stay home and she would call me on Friday about scheduling the ultrasound.  It wasn't a good phone call.

Last night Ozzy seemed ever so much better.  He ate a good dinner, even played with some toys, and we all collapsed into bed at 10:00pm...and miracle of miracles, he slept through the night until 6:00 this morning.  Eureka!!  We've turned the corner.  Then he went outside, and had a terrible diarrhea attack, and started vomiting.

We were at the vet's by 8:30am, and within 10 minutes Ozzy was in the hospital.  He will have to stay at least until Saturday, and possibly as long as Monday.  They are going to do more blood tests as well, including a test for Pancreatic cancer.  When everything is calmed and he's back to his usual happy self, regardless of all the tests and ultrasounds and outcomes, he will forever more be on a very restricted diet of boiled chicken and rice...the blandest food on the planet.  I don't care, as long as he gets better.

It is very strange, and horrible really, to be in the house without him.  It's going to be a very long couple of days, especially if I can't stop blubbering.  I called my sister, which helped.  She is glad he's in the hospital, being monitored and cared for, and eventually I came around to her point of view.  I'm not a vet, I'm the mother, and have to leave it to the professionals.

So, poor wee Ozzy isn't out of the woods yet, though at least he's with people who will know how to help him.  Cross your fingers and toes that he'll be fine soon...!!

Yawn...

We thought we were making some headway with Ozzy yesterday.  We even went to the park for a nice, though short, walk.  He ran around happily, even had a nearly normal...ah...well, he didn't have diarrhea for a change.  The vet told us to start up with the antibiotics as of yesterday, and though it's a nightmare to get the stuff into his tiny mouth, I managed the three doses.  We all go to bed last night, and between Alan and I, we're up every half hour or so.  Finally, at 5:30 we just gave up, I switched on the coffee, and there you go.  No sleep for days now, and just when we think we've turned the corner, Ozzy falls back to ground zero.  I suspect the antibiotics now, of course, because yesterday he really was doing better.  It's all too brain-numbing...though that could just be the side-effects of no sleep.

Garage floor should be finished today.  Then it's 3-5 days to cure before we can walk on it, or put the car in, or get the stuff out of the frigging Budget truck and out of our driveway.

I had another day of not writing a word.  Buggers.

But, on a more pleasant note.  I saw this very cute YouTube video this morning.  As I'm struggling these days to find a more positive way of viewing my world, this at least gave me a smile.  Not much else has lately.

Frustrations

No blog yesterday, no writing of any kind.  My frustration level has red-lined, on several fronts.

Image courtesy of HMoG

First, Ozzy.  We spent the better part of yet another day at the vet's.  More tests, more blood work, more questions without answers.  They've ruled out several things, some of which were a relief as they would have been fatal.  Sent off some blood to be analyzed elsewhere, results due by Wednesday or Thursday.  In the meantime, he's still sick, still having diarrhea, in and out of the house all night long; no one's sleeping these days.  I did manage to get him to eat more of the baby food, mixed with a tiny bit of boiled chicken, though half an hour later we were outside and...well, let's just say it didn't stay in his system too long.  He's now on two separate antibiotics, which frankly can't be doing his empty stomach or his body any good, though the vet says it's important, so three times per day I try to squirt this crap into his mouth, with marginal success.  If the new tests don't show something viable, we will perhaps have to face exploratory surgery, biopsies, etc.  At this point I can't go there.  It makes my stomach clench and burn.  I can only hope there's a positive outcome from the tests.

Second, the flaming, effing, frigging garage.  This process is dragging on beyond all that is acceptable to me.  It's five weeks now--the house painting only took a few days!!!--and still it's not finished.  It looks like it will be sometime next week before all is said and done.  That will be six weeks.  For a damned garage floor.

Third, my ever-failing attempt at NaNo.  After a grueling endeavor on Sunday to reach the halfway point, I have now lost my edge because I haven't written a word since.  I'm actually getting so bogged down in these daily crisis things, that I have totally lost my motivation, to say nothing of momentum.  If this is a test, I'm failing.  My sister asked me last night if it really mattered; I would be writing the book anyway.  She's right on one hand that regardless of NaNo, I planned on writing the second book.  But on the personal, other hand:  Getting to 50K in 30 days takes a real effort, and is an achievement that means a lot to me.  Plus, I'm afraid if I give up the challenge, with the way this month has gone so far, any minute now I will begin chanting the writer's lament:  "I can't write, it's all crap,"  sabotaging myself to the point I stop writing altogether.  Sometimes it's just too damn much effort.  And, for what?  (See..?  There I go already...sliding down that slippery slope).

Fourth, and final frustration (excuse the alliteration--unintentional but apt).  Could this blog be more depressing..???  If there's anyone left out there who's still reading this whingeing, whining crap: my apologies.  Some days (or the month of November), there's just no way to sugarcoat the negative.  At least not for me.  It is what it is, and I have to live with it, but lucky you, you have a choice to click away to another, cheerier life blog.

If ever there was a photo that sums up my mood over these past 15 days, this would be it.  How crazy am I getting..??  Check out the wild eyes, the electric fuzzy bodies, the wide-open, screeching mouths.  Yep, this just about says it all...

Image courtesy of Amo

Update

After posting the blog this morning (below), I went out to the living room to check on Oz.  He couldn't even be bothered to open his eyes, or raise his head.  Quick call to the emergency clinic and fifteen minutes later, there we were.

The vet was extremely cool, knowledgeable, and best of all, Ozzy didn't have a heart attack being around her.  (Man, does he hate anything to do with the vets).  She injected a subcutaneous solution under his skin, because he's so small and was dehydrating, which he sailed through with no complaint, bless him.  (I doubt many humans would appreciate a big bubble of water injected under their skin...I know I wouldn't).  

The next worry--after the water issue--was getting him to eat.  When she took him away for the injection, she returned with a jar of Gerber's Turkey w/Gravy baby food, and said, with a big smile, "Watch this."  She scooped a small bit onto a tongue depressor and Ozzy almost took her arm off..!!  He snarked down scoop after scoop as if he hadn't eaten in days--which he hasn't.  She gave us the jar and told us to dole it out sparingly in case it made him throw up, but so far, so good.  Her other recommendation was low sodium chicken broth, mixed with water, so he could get some protein with the fluids.

We get home, I mix the broth, give him a little baby food--which nearly cost me my hand--and now he's resting behind the couch, in better shape then he's been since Thursday.  I totally, sincerely, hope we are on the other side of this, though the question still remains:  Why is this happening to him..??  The vet suspects Irritable Bowel Syndrome, though to be sure will require tests, biopsies and various and sundry horrors that I would rather not put my tiny 8-lb dog through, unless there's absolutely no other option.  She also thought it could be a food allergy, an ailment that can flare up for no reason, even in humans.

All I care about now is that he recovers from this latest bout of whatever, and we can all get a flaming good night's sleep tonight.

Haven't decided yet on the towel throwing; just have to see how the day goes, I guess.

No Rest for the Weary

Another sleepless night for the three of us Friday night, and again, last night.  Ozzy is still not good, and once his fasting period was over yesterday, he wouldn't eat the new food.  After it sat in his dish for hours (and at this point he hasn't eaten for a couple of days), I caved and mixed in some of his regular food with the new.  He still wouldn't eat anything.  Last night, Alan sat on the floor with him and hand-fed him 5 tiny little bites, which was all he would eat.  And half an hour later it was outside for another bout of diarrhea.  He was up and down all of last night, and is now laying on the floor in the living room looking as dejected and miserable as any dog possibly could, while his stomach roils and gurgles.  I'm at a loss what to do now, other than to make a trip to the doggy emergency room.

The painter guys were here, off and on, all day yesterday and it looks like maybe they have figured out how to get the primer/paint/sealer to stick to the freaking floor without bubbling off.  I'm not holding my breath at this juncture as I would probably pass out from lack of oxygen.  Still.  Something might go right for a change, you never know.  They are here now, at 9:00am Sunday morning, to put on the floor paint, though it's a nasty, foggy damp day and how it will ever dry is beyond me.  Whatever.  I just want it over with...!!!

Managed to do about 1700 words yesterday, but that leaves a hair over 2700 that I will have to do today to reach the halfway mark.  Considering Ozzy's illness, a possible run to the ER, and the effing garage floor, I'm not sure how the day will play out for me to attain that goal.  I guess I should figure out where to throw that towel.

Conspiracy

Where do I start?  Honestly, there is no question now that some evil, drive-me-mad conspiracy is afoot.  Every damn day it's some fresh hell to keep me from writing.  Somehow, I managed to get through 11 months of the year--selling old house, moving to America, buying money pit new house--without having a daily crisis.  Until November.

Ozzy had Alan and I up all night, wanting out about every hour or so.  He's got diarrhea, he's throwing up, he's eating grass...crap.  I really don't know what's going on with him.  Ever since we've moved here, it's been an ongoing nightmare.  He's been to the vet, is healthy as can be, but still, something is way, way wrong if he's doing this every week.  I give up trying to sleep around 6:30am and just get up.  Between two cups of coffee, my breakfast, and doing the blog, I have to take him out three times.  Finally, he seems to settle down by mid-morning.

The garage debacle has gone from irritating to totally absurd.  Yesterday, it was decided (not by me), that all the stuff in the garage would be loaded into a rental truck, parked in the driveway, and the guys would put in a Herculean effort to finish the entire two-bay floor in one fell swoop. (They've been working on one side, shifting the stuff to the other, back and forth, depending on which side of the garage they wanted to tackle).  I suggested, rather than turn the driveway into a trailer trash parking lot, that we just put the garage stuff at the top end of the drive and cover it all with a tarp.  We already had the painter van, our car, the painters pick-up truck, and now they want to add a frigging U-Haul...????  Sigh.  One lone woman against four guys.  Hopeless.

This is what showed up later in the morning.  WTF..!!!  We could have loaded the entire contents of the house in this thing.  We only have the basic garage paraphernalia, like garden tools and ladders, etc.  We didn't need a damned semi-truck that takes up most of the driveway.  I desperately try not to wig out.

Most of the morning is gone by the time I shut myself in the Study and try to write.  I'm on a roll, writing like mad, and have close to 1K in just over an hour, when I have to stop in mid-paragraph to take Ozzy to the park for his afternoon walk.  I fix his lunch, which he doesn't touch, but we figure the fresh air and a good walk might make him feel better.  Get to the park, he gets really sick (you don't want to know), we dash to the vet's.  And spend 2-1/2 hours.

They do some tests, run him through the wringer, and there's nothing wrong with him.  Except there is.  We've been to the vet more in the last three months, then in the past three years in Scotland.  So, he gets two shots--one to stop the puking, the other an antibiotic--he's on a 24-hour fast, then has to have more antibiotics and this special gastrointestinal food (at $25 a pop), and we still don't know what the hell is wrong.  We get home 3+ hours after we left the house for the walk.  And spend the remainder of the night taking Oz out every hour until bedtime.  Then he got Alan up twice in the night, and I've already taken him out twice this morning.  I'm hoping the food will make a difference, though that would be too good to be true at this point.

Needless to say, I didn't get back to the writing.  Again.

I have decided this weekend will be my last attempt.  If I can't make the halfway point tomorrow, then I'm throwing in the towel.  I can't keep fighting the frustration, or the machinations of whatever conspiracy is trying to stop me at every turn.

Oh, and did I mention that the garage is still not done..??  With all the vehicles parked in the driveway, our house looks like something out of a B movie, filmed at the local trailer park...or a place where the Griswolds would spend their vacation.  At least we don't have Grandma strapped to the roof of the car in her rocking chair.  Though, the way things are going, that could be next.