April showers

In my senior year of high school, I applied to the Architecture School at Carleton University, proudly hand delivering my portfolio.  Left alone with a heap of other applicants' portfolios, I perused and quickly realized Admissions wouldn't be calling me any time soon.
Architecture had been the backup plan in case my main goal of Veterinary Medicine failed.  My graphic art design had made it through multiple competition phases to be eventually exhibited at the National Art Gallery.  Call me a one hit wonder because I haven't produced anything else as creative ever since.
(Historical aside:  I wasn't accepted into my Canadian vet school and subsequently declined, multiple times, here in Alabama.  Lucky for me, rejection is a motivating force.  Also called stupidity and pigheadedness.)
What does a frustrated wannabe become?  A critic, of course!

My fascination with modern architecture has been a mix of

"What were they smoking?":

1960's museum designed by famous Swiss architect, Le Corbusier...makes you wonder if it could possibly clash any more with its setting.
 

or I think: it's genius, but not melding with its surroundings:


In 1967, Israeli architect, Moshe Safdie completed this apartment complex inspired by pueblan cliff dwellings. Fantastic.

 

A recent design, Stacked Houses, by Japanese architect, Tadao Ando. I'm easily smitten by anything cantilevered.

 



My third favorite architect is Frank Lloyd Wright.  He nailed the artistic design aspect, but was not the greatest engineer.  Most of his houses have required extremely costly upgrades to compensate for poor structural stability.



FLW's Taliesin in Wisconsin.  It was a dream come true to tour it.

Finally, it appears that modern green architecture is blending recycled and local materials with engineering know-how to come up with designs that have structural integrity and are in harmony with their environment.

Above is the 2010 Pierre House in WA, designed by Kundig.  It's one of the most beautiful houses I've ever seen.  I discovered Kundig's work in the magazine Dwell...it is mind blowing to see the creativity in modern architecture today.

I can't help but look out my window at the old farmhouse in my backyard and dream of modern retrofits:

Alas, my off shore account is non-existent and the deed isn't in my name, two very insurmountable obstacles. 
Happily, I have a project to retrofit a steel gas tank to become my future storm shelter.

Scrubbed it down to prep for a coating of coal tar mastic, only to discover that rust has created a hole in the bottom.  If I can find a welder to do a small project, I'll be back in business.
Meanwhile, the plants I had bought to cover the underground shelter needed planting.  Sometimes you have to put the cart before the horse.

The earthen area will be dug down 5 feet.  An additional area to the left was tilled up for the kniphofia needing planting.  Oh, more flower beds, that really hurts my feelings!

Kniphofia or Red Hot Poker plant.

Cole and his crate were dragged out of doors for some fresh air and vitamin D.

While digging, I made a significant archeological discovery:

Artifacts from the 1950's... valued in today's market at approx. 10 cents.

All cleaned up.

Half a day of digging left my formerly alabaster back with a wicked sunburn.  No telling what degree of doneness I would have inflicted upon myself if friends hadn't stopped by to visit for the afternoon. 

The fearlessness of some children is amazing.  Five year old Regina walked up to the donkey and grabbed his ear because she had something to tell him.

My former employee, Geovani brought his kinfolk for meeting the farm animals, canoeing and fishing.  The recession had forced me to lay off all my employees and Geovani and I  both moved and went AWOL at the same time.  Only last year did we reconnect. For about ten years prior to that great economic debacle, he had been my the greatest business partner and friend.

Back in 2004, even after 70 hours of working together, we could stand to hang out together.

In 2005, I couldn't have turned an abandoned farm into a home if it hadn't been for all the evenings and weekends Geovani , his family and friends spent working on building my house.

Fast forward to 2014.  Geovani and his niece atop Bella.
Next weekend, he wants to come back to help Abuelita (little grandmother...his favorite nickname for me) dig the hole for her shelter.  I've missed that crazy Michoacano and speaking Spanish all day long!
Quick tip of the hat to another friend who told of her experiences with feeding June bugs to frogs.

Wilbur is letting me get closer and closer to him.  Seems he understands that I am the bearer of June bugs!

Another wildlife note:  the hummingbirds are back in Central Alabama.  Get your feeders up!

Proof:  April 6, a visitor at the feeder.  Only picture I could get after standing in the rain for 5 minutes.

There's No Place Like Home

Wednesday at noon, AU vets gave me an appointment to pick Cole up at 2 PM...right in the middle of my workday.  No problem:  the joys of being self-employed and having great clients.

As soon as I'd paid my $2600, we made our escape.

In spite of being dope up, Cole began whining in the back seat as soon as he saw his pastures.

Poor guy was stoned out of his mind, so he couldn't figure out how to get the treats out of the Kong.  I went back to work for three hours, came home...treats were untouched.  My little genius.

In spite of being cross eyed, he found and demolished his supper.

 

 

Hard to get a good picture of the leg.  But, compared to the last surgery,

 

with its 7" incision, this bandage is tiny in comparison.  The bandage comes off tomorrow. Cole remains crate-bound for a month, only out to do his business.

  So far, I'm bubbling with optimism, Cole doesn't seem distressed at all-- or is that the codeine that was hiding in his supper?  His ankle is full of edema, jiggly like a lunch lady's arms. He's already confirmed to start hydrotherapy sessions in 4 weeks with Liz Hodson.  How's that for quick recovery time?  In 4 months, he should be running (not warp speed).  Our trip home to Canada may not need to be postponed yet again.  

 

Jinx, who should have been overjoyed that the Golden Boy was gone for a while, refused to eat for two days.  Tuesday he ate his supper that I spoon fed to him and he returned much of it to me in the form of digesta nicely presented on the bed.  Why does he like to puke on the bed?  The kitchen's linoleum floor is five feet away.

He perked right up when his arch nemesis was back home.  Masochist.

 

 

While Cole was TKO'd next to my desk, Jinx laid close by (in lieu if his usual residence:  King size bed).  Weirdo.

 

 Myself, residing between two vet schools, have gotten the best of both.  The first surgery at Tuskegee was successful at first, but then not.  Now the baton's been passed to Dr. Montgomery at Auburn.  Persistence should pay off, right? 

 

I have faith that this one will work and that I won't be needing to shop around for the following with Mud Grip tires.

 

 

The staff at AU even painted his toe nails.  I've never had a manicure!

 

 

That proves to me that the student in charge of his critical care did indeed spend a lot of time with him!  The vet student, Olga Norris, deserves five gold stars!  She even iced his wound every 6 hours, which is what I must do now.

 

If a person or animal that I love is in pain or in trouble it drives me bananas not to be able to fix the situation.  A hen in my coop, eventually destined for the soup pot, being bullied day in and day out-- it was driving me crazy before I came up with the sweater idea.  I want to provide anyone in my posse with the best life possible, including Wilbur the frog in my lotus pond.  I 'try' to behave as though all life matters.

 

Thanks to friends, blood relatives in Canada, adopted family members all over the place who've treated me like their own, thanks for the encouragement. Y'all are the BEST.









Surgery--Again

Monday morning, I brought Cole to Auburn University Veterinary Hospital for him to begin hydrotherapy (swimming lessons). Last week, the surgeon who had performed his CCL repair four months ago recommended this, thinking it would strengthen his leg.

I was excited, this was going to mean progress!  I packed his life preserver.

Any dog referred for physical therapy undergoes an evaluation.  A bloomin' waste of my time and money (so I thought). He'd had all four limbs X-rayed and had his knee manipulated over and over again just 10 days ago at Tuskegee's Vet School and everything was sound. 
Who knows how it was missed, or why, or whatever, this is why medicine is 'practiced'.  But, it appears that Cole is among that 40% who have repaired ligament failure. 
When the veterinarian showed me the 'drawer' motion the knee was making, I knew this was really bad news. 
Dr. Montgomery's plan is to be more aggressive with the repair and use his preferred method: Tibial Plateau Leveling Osteotomy (TPLO).  It's more invasive than Cole's previous surgery, as it involves carving into the tibia, inserting a metal plate and correcting the joint's angle. 
I had done some research on this method a few months ago, but decided it was too risky and too painful.  Now, I see that 4 months lost on a failed surgery is too risky and painful.  Besides, all evidence points to this more gruesome technique is less painful than other CCL (Cruciate Cranial Ligament) repairs.  Aaargh, it's so hard to make the right decision.  I wouldn't hesitate for myself.  But to put another sentient creature through the wringer hoping for good results, that's rough.

What Cole will be sporting after Tuesday.

Why they'll keep him on Morphine for two days.

If all goes well, I pick him up on Wednesday. 

I left him there this morning, upon agreement that if I changed my mind, I could pick him up after work.  A million thanks to all the folks who've posted about their experiences with TPLO.  Thanks to those who took the time to write back answering my questions. 

So, I came home without the Kid today. 

I went back to AU to bring him his food, bed and blankets.

Packed his stuff in his beat up marathon drop bag...kinda fitting I thought.

Speaking of marathons, I received my race packet for the Boston Marathon today.  Pity, I'll be missing it.

Almost sad, but I can't be bothered to stew over it, I've got bigger things on my agenda right now. 

By the time I finally finished work, it was well after 8 PM when I rolled into the driveway.  No Cole to lead the charge, only Jinx.

All 15 lbs of him put on the best one man 'OMG Mom's Home' show:  running, jumping, yipping, chasing, the works.
Dogs are pure love. 
Thanks to all of you who know exactly what I'm talking about and why I choose to make my animals part of my family.

Spring Has Sprung

It appears we've had our last frost here in Central Alabama.  Time to fold and store all those garden tarps 'til Fall.  IF I liked tomatoes, I'd be setting them out in the garden soon.  So cruel of me to mention, since my family in Canada won't planting tomatoes for another 2 months. 

Heralds of Spring are popping out everywhere.

A wee little ground skink was trapped in a client's garage.  Cute as a button.

I accidentally uncovered a burrowed frog.

Mr. Leopard Frog was covered back up and the area marked off with flags.

I LOVE my amphibians.  In the Summer, there are so many toads in the yard at night that you have to watch your step.  I could trim up the entire yard with the weed-eater in ten minutes, but it takes me an eternity because I go so slowly to avoid injuring my little bug eaters.  The emotional meltdown, that I had two years ago when I had to dispatch one of my toads that I'd mortally sliced with the trimmer, is to be avoided!

Rains throughout last week have turned everything around here to mud.



Having the weekend off, I attempted to finish some projects.  The feeling that a Mack truck had hit me, backed over me and run me over again was hindering my enthusiasm.  Could've been the flu or Ike's workouts combined with two hours of jiu jitsu on Friday where I was either tossed around like a ragdoll by my partner, or I was instructed to drop and roll over and over again. No need to tell me, I've come to the same conclusion:  I'm getting too old for this!

Maybe I was disappointed that I was missing my 100 mile race this weekend.  Maybe not.  As far as I can tell from the Twitter feeds, only 3 racers finished the race.  Of the 24-30 hours needed to complete the race, it had rained hard 75% of the time and the trails were a soupy mess.  So maybe being out of shape for an ultra this year isn't such a bad thing!

4/1/14 update:  18 finishers, only 2 females, what troopers.


One fun project to cheer me up was giving Poppy, my Ameraucana hen, protection from bullying.  The other hens have plucked all the feathers from her back. I've tried various sprays to make her feathers unpalatable with poor results.
Enter the baby onesie:

Customize it.

Sewed it one her... the benefit of having tame chickens.

Poppy's new suit.

Ruby almost fell off her perch laughing.

The Belle of the Ball.

Another project was to bake bread.  I hadn't had time to bake in two months, so I hadn't had any bread in two months.  Yes, I hear they do sell such things at that place called the grocery store, but I prefer my bread. 

I've eaten pecan butter and jam for every meal since Saturday.  Heavenly!

When I haven't been in the kitchen, in the chicken coop, in the garden, or under the house working on the piers this past weekend, I was curled up with my new best friend.

 Kim, gave me a Kindle last week.  I waited until Saturday to turn it on, fearing that it would take this Neanderthal hours to figure out how to use it.  Surprisingly, I had bought my first e-book and was on the second chapter before an hour had passed.  What a guilty pleasure!  It even has the cutest built-in night light.  OK, so some modern technology is good.  I still hate microwaves and TV's!  One must maintain pigheadedness over some matters!

Luck of the Irish

I'm only about one fifth Irish, but, somehow my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is always overflowing.
Starting on Monday, St. Patrick's Day.

My tiny Winter vegetable garden is outdoing itself.  All manner of salad greens and arugula share the plot with Irish potatoes, carrots, beets, peas, cabbage, onions and garlic. 

Work lately has been bountiful too.  A big job dropped in my lap.  I started it after my regular jobs at 5 PM and I worked 14 hours through the night and jumped into my regular jobs on Tuesday...without a wink of sleep. By the time I got off work on Tuesday at 9 PM, (the pessimist would say that I hadn't slept in 2 days), I had worked so many billable hours that my upcoming dental work, my horses' and Cole's upcoming vet bills were more than covered.
Thomas Edison said:  "Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like hard work".
And, I had the chance to steam clean my carpets with the machine I had rented for work, while I flew by the farm to feed animals.  Very groovy.

Wednesday.

Cole, who hasn't made a satisfactory recovery from his surgery, was taken back to Tuskegee University for another round of radiographs.
Dr. Horne had postulated last week that he may have hip dysplasia... a bad prognosis.
The X-rays didn't back up this theory. How's that for good luck?  Unfortunately, they have no idea why he's still not bearing much weight on his repaired leg.  But, I'll take an enigma over terrible news any day.

Thursday. I finished an art project.  Before you fall off your chair laughing, let me assure you that I have no illusions of leaving my day job.

It's my attempt at being overly symbolic.  Bear with me.  It's a modified Carbon atom (true C atom only had 2 orbitals and that didn't jive, so I added another). Carbon is found in all living organisms...the building blocks if life. The vines, rocks, moss and lichen all came from the farm because that's home = me.  The nucleus is where I want to hang out because it contains all my little protons:  Cole, Jinx, Axel, Angus, Bella, Tommy and Mack. But, to grow, I must venture out on the different orbitals.  Sometimes, the outer orbital is too negatively charged and I shouldn't stay out there too long (ie. working 30 hrs without sleep), but going 100 mph around my orbitals is how I'm hardwired.  As long as I can keep one foot on homebase, my little atom will remain happy and complete.
This is why my sister is a Fine Arts major and not yours truly... 

Friday.  Dr. Brown, my equine vet, did her semi-annual checkup and vaccination. 

 
The vet, pregnant with twins, without her usual assistant, was saddled with me as her helper and with one 2000 lb Percheron that was being less than cooperative, in spite of sedation.  Perk of being the doc's assistant:  I got to stick my hand all the way to the back of Angus' mouth, feel all his molars!  Very groovy.

By Friday night, it appeared my lucky leprechaun was off shift.  I drove in to see Axel acting strangely. It's been said that a horse only ever has two thoughts running through it's brain:  how to kill you or how to kill itself.  Absolutely true and I take the latter one very seriously. 

About 5 years ago, I lost the best two horses to colic.  Admittedly, both were 27 year old draft horses, but my Alice and Charlie were/are irreplaceable.
So, with Axel showing signs of colic, I temped him, poked and prodded, called his equine vet after hours, got Dr. P to give Axel some Banamine from his stash, I kept him locked on the barn overnight and feed him alfalfa cubes laced with 16 oz  mineral oil to flush out any impactions.

Axel was my first rescue 15 years ago.  He was a young stallion that had gotten himself seriously injured in a fight.  Getting a rank stallion as your first horse is not recommended, but we've both mellowed out over the years!

Saturday.  I'd spent Friday night going back and forth throughout the night to monitor Axel.  By 8 AM, he was back with the herd and I was thanking my leprechaun for his overtime work!

By lunchtime, I was in Heaven = Petals From the Past nursery in Jemison, AL, about 2 hrs away.  I'd escorted a client/friend up there to introduce her to the addicting vice of gardening.  She was an easy convert.  Within minutes, she'd wandered off to drool over shrubbery and left her girls wondering:  "Mummy, where's mummy?"

Cole acted as my budgetary tool.  By taking up the backseat, I couldn't fill it up with plants.

Good dog!

I ONLY bought two plants.  Two more rose bushes for my antique rose collection.  One rosa hansa...

...and one rosa 'Souvenir de Sainte Anne'.

Sunday.  The two dogs that are boarding with me and the Great Cole headed to Birmingham.

After almost two hours of driving through hard rain, the rain stopped.  My 1/5th Irish at work.   Mark and I were able to work without so much as a droplet of rain interfering.

Cole did a fine job supervising.

Helene's future 2014 vegetable garden before lunch break.

The garden after the revitalizing effect of Helene's home made food for the work crew.

Another wonderful day.  Did I mention she sent me home with her famous Pecan Crispy cookies???  Very, very groovy.