tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55098329728032810352024-02-07T10:13:25.498-06:00A Writer's BlotBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.comBlogger327125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-2044903155820124012018-12-06T15:00:00.000-06:002018-12-06T15:00:06.073-06:00Welcome Home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When Saturday arrived, my daughter Anne and I were very excited to go meet and bring our new dog home. We put the address into our GPS right after lunch and started driving through town.<br />
<br />
"Town" is pretty small for us even though we live in the County seat, so I was not terribly surprised when the speed limit increased and the houses along the side of the highway disappeared into trees and open fields. After a few minutes of driving through countryside, we turned off the highway into a small hamlet and then turned again onto a narrow street, which we followed past a field until we got to a cute, one-story house. We parked in the driveway and knocked on the front door, which was promptly opened by a pleasant-looking, young woman.<br />
<br />
She greeted us and welcomed us inside the house. A large, black dog, followed closely by a very small dog, then crossed the room to exit the house through the same door we had just entered. As we waited for the young woman to return from closing the door behind the dogs, I noticed a black tabby cat stretching awake on the other side of the room.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://img.chewy.com/is/image/catalog/71846_PT1._AC_SL1500_V1522075395_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="800" height="105" src="https://img.chewy.com/is/image/catalog/71846_PT1._AC_SL1500_V1522075395_.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.chewy.com/kurgo-direct-to-seat-belt-tether/dp/56752" target="_blank">Seatbelt tether</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
A few minutes of conversation with the young woman yielded that she was a nursing student with a full-time job and her son had recently been diagnosed with a severe medical condition. The nearest hospital where he could be treated was a three hour drive from home. The poor young woman was clearly overwhelmed and needed to let something go. That something really had to be the little dog that she could not figure out how to reliably housebreak. Happy as I was to have found the dog I had been waiting to rescue, my heart felt broken for the young woman who was giving her to me. Giving away her puppy could not have been an easy choice for her to make.<br />
<br />
The dog in question was a little thing with a coarse, black and brown coat that stood only a little taller than my ankle. Tipped ears and bright eyes, her long tail curved between her legs as the three of us: Anne, the young woman and I tried to lure her into the back seat of my car so that her harness could be buckled into the seat belt. (The <a href="https://prf.hn/click/camref:1101l4uLE/destination:https%3A%2F%2Fwww.chewy.com%2Fkurgo-direct-to-seat-belt-tether%2Fdp%2F56752" target="_blank">seatbelt tether</a> was a leftover from Snickers and, whereas he never could seem to get used to it, I was determined to train our new dog to use the buckle in the car from the very beginning of her time with us so that she would be safe in the car. Fortunately, she did fine with it)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjYGWd42slbYibCVdhbW3gyiRsPZke7ws44lzGKHJCT-WIiEMP8b-9WPaL6mTQFJfg1nizgMg__4_qJnB60BSpjSMHjBJ8MK0caJDrNFKKdiTT0lxznlNZuLn509QuEmLbvf_D20Cn-e4/s1600/Cookie2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjYGWd42slbYibCVdhbW3gyiRsPZke7ws44lzGKHJCT-WIiEMP8b-9WPaL6mTQFJfg1nizgMg__4_qJnB60BSpjSMHjBJ8MK0caJDrNFKKdiTT0lxznlNZuLn509QuEmLbvf_D20Cn-e4/s200/Cookie2.JPG" width="200" /></a>Anne and I had already discussed the housebreaking issue and decided that we would use our bathroom as a safe place for the dog to stay until she had her first accident and we could begin the housebreaking process. So, when we got home, we stayed outside for a few minutes and walked the dog around the yard to see if she would potty outside and we could praise her. But when she did not potty outside, we came inside and walked right into the bathroom to sit and wait there together. Minutes dragged into an hour with no result and I still needed to get dog food. So I left Anne with the dog and ran to the store for it.<br />
<br />
By the time I got home with the dog food, the dog had still not had an accident. So I went back into the bathroom with Anne to wait for our first housebreaking event. Minutes continued to creep by and I eventually had to send Anne out of the room so that <i><u>I</u></i> could pee (in the toilet), but the dog continued to hold her bladder.<br />
<br />
It was at about this point when we decided that we'd had enough of waiting in the bathroom for a doggy bladder accident. We slipped one of the doggy diapers given to us by the young woman onto the dog and went out into the house to drink some tea and discuss what we would name her. (Okay. I was the only one drinking tea but I was thirsty so might have had enough for both of us.)</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-84518847959137750282018-12-05T14:40:00.003-06:002018-12-05T14:40:57.914-06:00In Search of a New Family Member<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaA6m1zFQEomqEM5JWOdUEKIQRBhTWbLBZZ4JOpIO7jZgZwJyDLfdP-SF6hNteUyN4hVriQ67JUQRTQXaSrtE6ovv75H0UMJ3C3STv2nQYSyl0gRJCPLnVwswVY_Mx6URaYpgEV4pc5CQ/s1600/Snickers_young.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="280" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaA6m1zFQEomqEM5JWOdUEKIQRBhTWbLBZZ4JOpIO7jZgZwJyDLfdP-SF6hNteUyN4hVriQ67JUQRTQXaSrtE6ovv75H0UMJ3C3STv2nQYSyl0gRJCPLnVwswVY_Mx6URaYpgEV4pc5CQ/s200/Snickers_young.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snickers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It has been a year since we lost our beloved Snickers and we still miss him quite a bit. He really was an awesome dog. However, he is gone and it is time for us to have a new dog in our home. I have been getting ready for our next dog by watching dog training videos every night since we had to put Snickers down, but it has not been time to find a new pup.<br />
<br />
I told my good friend, the other dog-lady, that I intended to wait until after Christmas -- when backyard breeders were ready to get rid of their unwanted "extras" for free (or super-cheap), and then save a pup from potentially being given to someone with not-so-nice plans for it. [Trying to keep this G-rated. Please read between the lines if you are an adult. I know that sounds sad -- and it IS sad, but free/cheap dogs being mistreated by sick people is a genuine societal problem and my intention was to subtract one dog from that situation.]<br />
<br />
Well, I did not last until after Christmas. A few days before Thanksgiving, maybe a week, I started getting really antsy about finding a puppy and began checking Craigslist every day for unwanted pups. I did not think I would find one before Christmas but it was only a few days, on the day before Thanksgiving, when I found this ad:<br />
<br />
<i><b><u>Small Dog needs to be rehomed ([My City!])</u></b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i><i><b>Zoey is a 2 year old, spayed and up to date with all vaccines. She is healthy. We do not have time for her anymore due to health conditions with our family. She still potties in the house. We have tried many diff things to get her to go outside. If you try to pick her up she will piddle. I'm just being honest so you know what she needs to work on.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i><i><b>She walks on a leash or off a leash. She doesn't bite or growl at anyone. She will alert when someone is at the door. She will cuddle but she is a VERY TIMID dog. She prefers women to men.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i><i><b>She needs someone who is more patient with potty training and time. We just don't have time anymore.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i><i><b>She will come with her collar, leash, 3 doggie diapers.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i><i><b>Asking a rehoming fee of $25. Call or email to visit her.</b></i><br />
<br />
There was no photo.<br />
<br />
Now tell me that dog was not in danger of becoming subject to ill-treatment and see if I believe you. She totally fit the bill for what I had told the other dog-lady I intended to adopt and the fact that she was right near me cinched the deal, so I emailed a response to the ad right away and scheduled to go meet the dog on Saturday, right after my daughter got out of work.<br />
<br />
The next day was Thanksgiving and my parents and son came over for dinner. I showed them the ad and told them I planned to get the dog. This was their opportunity to cast a vote in one direction or another as to my getting the dog, but all they really did was talk about the housebreaking issue. Not a problem. I am happy that I did not have to veto any of their votes.<br />
<br />
To Be Continued.....</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-47393080623604098342018-01-11T15:00:00.000-06:002018-01-11T20:46:09.681-06:00The Power of Words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It has been three days and I am still pretty well glowing. Let me explain.<br />
<br />
On November 23, 2017, I self-published a book that was written for the benefit of a small Christian niche that calls themselves Standers.<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075DG771X" target="_blank">A Beginner's Guide to Defy Divorce and Take a Stand for Your Marriage</a></span> is a short book that took a number of months to complete because a large portion of it (more than half the book) is testimonies that I needed to collect. Still, I worked pretty hard to get the book out before the holidays because the holidays are a big time when this niche seems to have a lot of activity.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQSiHNml9UjhxKJhV3lENbxIN9ZrjyAehb3z1wvFaqmssO8wJpN4ZLLrZDxov_DSYLlWxqQMFnsO66AwHjhlIr88ygvbI7mwnQE65PhJeHjP7QvvUDw470cWzeJAGZyKoFcOXyqn0VfY0/s1600/This+book%2521%2521%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="542" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQSiHNml9UjhxKJhV3lENbxIN9ZrjyAehb3z1wvFaqmssO8wJpN4ZLLrZDxov_DSYLlWxqQMFnsO66AwHjhlIr88ygvbI7mwnQE65PhJeHjP7QvvUDw470cWzeJAGZyKoFcOXyqn0VfY0/s320/This+book%2521%2521%2521.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
Because it did take so long to compile the book, I took time to accumulate a group of about 20 advance readers who promised to read and leave honest reviews of the book on Amazon to help me attract more readers. I also reached out to a few book bloggers. Of everyone who said yes, only one actually <a href="http://writeramyshannon.wixsite.com/bookshelfreviews/single-post/2017/11/23/A-Beginner%E2%80%99s-Guide-to-Defy-Divorce-and-Take-a-Stand-for-Your-Marriage-by-Beth-Durkee" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">posted her review of it</span></a>. She is a book blogger who greatly enjoyed another of my Christian books (and gave that one <a href="http://writeramyshannon.wixsite.com/bookshelfreviews/single-post/2017/06/23/A-Memoir-A-Testimony-by-Beth-Durkee?cn=bWVudGlvbg%3D%3D" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">a nice review</span></a> with a five star rating) but she gave the new one only 4 stars.<br />
<br />
(Note: The other book bloggers have either messaged they will not be reviewing this book, after all, or they have not yet gotten to it in their reading cues.)<br />
<br />
To me, four stars is on the positive side of mediocre so that was both encouraging and discouraging at the same time. At least the book blogger did not hate the book. She is also not a member of the niche to whom I had written. So her review was both helpful to boost Amazon ratings and not so helpful in regards to my gleaning niche-specific feedback.<br />
<br />
A month and a half passed with no sales and no new reviews. I decided that maybe I would be better off blogging about cooking and DIY homemaking projects than writing to a group of people who do not even read what I write. I am pretty sure that repeatedly writing to be unread is part of the definition of, "waste of time." So I started a new blog and secured an accountability partner for it.<br />
<br />
Funny thing: My accountability partner turns out to<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://www.weddingblissorknot.com/" target="_blank">blog about marriage</a></span>. She wound up joining a group that I belong to AND saw a post with my book cover in it. Because she knows who I am, she emailed her congratulations and a screen shot to me.<br />
<br />
I was hugely surprised! I didn't even know that a sale had been made (not even ONE at this point) and yet someone had posted a photo of her hand holding my book. Instantly, I looked for the thread and liked it to bring it to the top of the group page, then I messaged a friend of mine to tell her about the thread and she also followed it.<br />
<br />
Two questions were subsequently asked and answered by the lady who <i><b>loves </b></i>my book. The first question was if the book was good and where she got it. Her answer was:<br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">It is awesome. Read 5 chapters in 1 night!!!! Barnes & Noble</span></span><br />
<br />
This is when I began to glow. If you see a warm light coming from the direction of northeastern Wisconsin, <b>DO NOT BE ALARMED</b>. No nuclear weapon has struck. That is likely just me.<br />
<br />
I'm sure the second question helped to pique interest. "Tell me about the book," was answered:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It talks about God's original design for marriage and standing for your covenant. Has testimonies too.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil09paRUCbCDSqgvsbBVJUOsxLSBtT0jf2LFYAbNgYL-RUGVzAiNO2549DBSy8rSd2SwmbQdFoJXoRLqIr4MnJnOEDwucT2UbBSA19vk2O1G1f-ayqXl16Oacxy-YDDvExBSJRKGtWctY/s1600/koll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1440" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil09paRUCbCDSqgvsbBVJUOsxLSBtT0jf2LFYAbNgYL-RUGVzAiNO2549DBSy8rSd2SwmbQdFoJXoRLqIr4MnJnOEDwucT2UbBSA19vk2O1G1f-ayqXl16Oacxy-YDDvExBSJRKGtWctY/s320/koll.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>[In fact, it has 40 testimonies. Just saying.]<br />
<br />
Several more people joined the thread after our questions were posed and, by the next day, my book was being read by 5 more! Today, I contacted the woman who made the original post to thank her and let her know that her positive comment had helped me to help at least 5 other people (4 e-book sales and one Kindle library borrow). She responded to my message and, not only did she agree to leave her review on the Bookseller's website, but her answer added serious brightness to the glow I am sure you must be seeing on your horizon. (If you cannot see it, it should be visible after nightfall.)<br />
<br />
Here is the best part of this whole story. The woman said,<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Your book has blessed me in my stand so much!!!!</span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Now those words, my friends, make all the work I put into this book totally worth it. Yes, I mean it. My words made a difference for at least one hurting person and her few words of praise made a huge difference for the way I feel about the work I have done.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;">If there is one take-away from this story that I want you to have, it is this: </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;">Words make a difference, so consider yours and use them wisely. </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;">My words made a difference to that woman and her words made a difference to more than just me. "It is awesome. Read 5 chapters in one night," resulted in 5 more people reading my book AND encourages me to not close the door on writing more to that audience.</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-57746829306747464982017-12-22T09:00:00.000-06:002017-12-22T09:00:10.549-06:00Don't Let This Happen to Your Dog, Too (Part 2 of 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Originally posted at <a href="https://pennypinchingprojectlady.blogspot.com/2017/12/dont-let-this-happen-to-your-dog-too_20.html">https://pennypinchingprojectlady.blogspot.com/2017/12/dont-let-this-happen-to-your-dog-too_20.html</a></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #edf4ff; color: #888888; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><a href="https://pennypinchingprojectlady.blogspot.com/2017/12/dont-let-this-happen-to-your-dog-too_20.html" target="_blank"><br /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/yFTxVJe8P28/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yFTxVJe8P28?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />
In yesterday's post, I talked about the beginning and development of Snickers' symptoms, seeing two different veterinarians and our desperate final attempt to save his life through a veterinary treatment plan. Today, I will tell the results of the plan, my own diagnosis of what was ultimately really wrong with my dog and the simple steps pet-parents can take to protect their own 4-legged family members. Please remember that I am not a veterinary or medical professional of any sort.<br />
<br />
The treatment plan was to begin with antibiotics plus three consecutive days of pumping extra water into Snickers to try to flush his kidneys. On the fourth day, more blood would be drawn to see our progress and discuss the results. Snickers did appear to feel better after being injected with antibiotics and pumped full of water and he got very quickly comfortable with his daily veterinary visits as a result of feeling better for them, but his appetite did not improve at all. All he would do was lick our dinner plates clean and sniff at the various foods we offered him.<br />
<br />
On the third day of treatment he did not even lick our dinner plates. Then on the night of the third day, Snickers finally displayed the other two symptoms of the condition I now believe claimed his life: vomiting and stool changes (diarrhea in Snickers' case). The fourth day, blood tests revealed that the Pancreatitis was way worse than the kidney disease (a reversal) and the numbers on the kidney disease had more than doubled!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidXt_aPIjDGTS2RjBFyreiWaAFOuvM6-0QdATzdQCv8eQZe1mGMLLMyEN1ple6yhya5nfTOFLSR2R_gy8Oal2zxbZO_ja46Zlm3uGqUuKxFjm1JSvEXomaZCyWMfVclX7Halrk7HKzb28h/s1600/DSC04177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidXt_aPIjDGTS2RjBFyreiWaAFOuvM6-0QdATzdQCv8eQZe1mGMLLMyEN1ple6yhya5nfTOFLSR2R_gy8Oal2zxbZO_ja46Zlm3uGqUuKxFjm1JSvEXomaZCyWMfVclX7Halrk7HKzb28h/s320/DSC04177.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">I miss my Snickers and am so sorry I <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">did </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">not </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">have the knowledge to protect him.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Hope for recovery was completely lost and we did not want him to needlessly suffer. It was such a hard thing to let go, not only because of his relatively young age but also because he did not act sick. We could tell that his mind was active and working healthily. His body just didn't agree with his mind's opinion and was going to give out no matter what we did to try to keep it going. So we said some tearful goodbyes and put our Snickers to rest 13 days before his 11th birthday.<br />
<br />
The kidneys' function is to filter blood. The pancreas creates digestive enzymes and insulin. On the drive home from our final visit with the vet, my mind was still working and spinning, trying to figure out what could possibly have caused Snickers' kidney disease and pancreatitis to worsen so quickly when we had been flushing his body with water and he wasn't even eating any food. It just didn't make sense! So I started thinking back to the beginning of all his problems, going through everything in an attempt to figure out what I might have missed.<br />
<br />
I thought about the skunk spray and then the skunk. It was the only skunk who has ever visited my yard when the dog was outside and I wondered why it might have ventured into the yard. I remembered the at that time, the long sump pump hose that usually carried water to the back of my yard (where Snickers could not reach the water) had been removed from the back of my house by construction workers and so, for a short time, the water made a gradually deeper hole and periodic puddle of water in the dog run.<br />
<br />
Ah, the sump pump must have just gone off and the skunk was coming for a drink, I concluded. Suddenly, the switch clicked in my mind as I remembered trying to look into my sump well with a flashlight to change the pump last summer. (Oh, the joys of household maintenance.) The well water had been so cloudy that I could not see anything through it! At the time, I deduced the well was full of mold from when I first bought the house, but I did not connect the mold last summer with my dog's condition that began two summers ago.<br />
<br />
As soon as I pulled into my driveway, I went and looked up the symptoms of mold poisoning. There are several for inhaled mold, but only three for ingested mold: LOSS OF APPETITE, vomiting and diarrhea. Eureka! Suddenly, it all made sense. The garlic having helped him to eat better made sense because garlic is an natural anti-fungal "medicine."<br />
<br />
The switching from food to food made sense since many ingredients (such as wheat flour) that we normally include in dog foods make mold toxicity worse. Besides, if the garlic originally made him feel better, it makes sense that he would have been searching for another food to do the same thing. His blood work getting WORSE when he was on antibiotics but eating nothing also made sense because the kidneys filter blood and, <span style="font-family: inherit;">"<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Antibiotics create a fungus-friendly intestinal environment" (<a href="https://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2011/11/01/recovery-from-toxic-mold-exposure.aspx" target="_blank">Mercola.com</a>). Most doctors (and I assume vets) are unfamiliar with the symptoms of mold poisoning so it also makes sense that neither of the vets we saw recognized the symptoms.</span></span><br />
<br />
All the pieces suddenly just fit together -- only a few hours too late to save Snickers' life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLh2m-9INbZ90HcAx7lYRbX0wTNxsjAZPVlelCmAejRl3zUanCxVURHUTh4F-dueRuWN-2WDiMQ-Vwihyphenhyphen0-YjzTh2X0MZjah1NpfzZFQopHJexFmljV73RlzKTtErsje9JHBSvKCNY_wu/s1600/IMG_20171130_093644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLh2m-9INbZ90HcAx7lYRbX0wTNxsjAZPVlelCmAejRl3zUanCxVURHUTh4F-dueRuWN-2WDiMQ-Vwihyphenhyphen0-YjzTh2X0MZjah1NpfzZFQopHJexFmljV73RlzKTtErsje9JHBSvKCNY_wu/s320/IMG_20171130_093644.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: blue;">If you have a pet in your life whom you love </span></b>or if you know people with pets they love,<b><span style="font-size: large;"> please share our story</span></b>. Pass it along so that others might know to take steps to prevent and watch for the signs of mold poisoning in their pets. Don't let lack of information about this dangerous condition to claim the life of another beloved companion. <b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Please help our story to serve</span></b> as a caution that encourages people to keep their pets safe.<br />
<br />
Mold poisoning is more common in pets than one might think. Keep everything he comes in contact with inside your home clean and dry. Outdoors, ensure he doesn't ingest or lick any item or surface that could have mold growth (including puddles of moldy sump water).<br />
<br />
<b>For more information on mold poisoning in pets</b>, visit <a href="https://healthypets.mercola.com/sites/healthypets/archive/2017/06/09/pets-toxic-mold-exposure.aspx">https://healthypets.mercola.com/sites/healthypets/archive/2017/06/09/pets-toxic-mold-exposure.aspx</a><br />
<br />
P. S. I promise that my next post on the <a href="https://pennypinchingprojectlady.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Penny Pinching Project Lady</a> will be less distressing. Perhaps we should make some yummy Mexican food?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Links for your convenience</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ac&ref=tf_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=pennypinche03-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=1617811548&asins=1617811548&linkId=2e9101ed0be569887e4e0f4803cc03ec&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true&price_color=333333&title_color=0066c0&bg_color=ffffff" target="_blank">Neutrogenics</a> </span><span style="font-size: medium;">(The book on homemade dog food that I intended to buy - affiliate link)</span><br />
<a href="http://pennypinchingprojectlady.blogspot.com/2017/12/how-i-made-homemade-kidney-safe.html" target="_blank">Recipe for homemade kidney-safe dog food</a><br />
<a href="https://www.gofundme.com/snickers-final-expense-relief-fund" target="_blank">Snickers' Final Expense Relief Fund</a> (Go-fund-me link)<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-34830396501004008552017-12-21T09:00:00.000-06:002017-12-21T09:00:12.555-06:00Don't Let This Happen to Your Dog, Too (Part 1 of 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Originally posted at https://pennypinchingprojectlady.blogspot.com/2017/12/dont-let-this-happen-to-your-dog-too.html</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #edf4ff; color: #888888; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Ss5cNv9KmyQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ss5cNv9KmyQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My heart is breaking</span> as I write this post, but I very much want to help other dog-parents avoid the pain my family and I experienced over this Thanksgiving holiday weekend. If our situation can help someone avoid this same agony, then perhaps some good can come from our tragedy.<br />
<br />
[Please note that I am not a vet, nor am I any kind of medical professional. I am just a dog-mom who greatly loved and now greatly misses a furbaby who might have been saved if I'd just had the information I needed when I needed it. My hope is that our story will help some other dog-family to figure out and save the health of their beloved companion so that Snickers' difficult demise was not completely in vain.]<br />
<br />
Our story begins about two years ago when my Snickers, a healthy, 8 year-old, rat terrier, got sprayed by a skunk in our back yard. At the time, we had a wireless fence to keep Snickers in the yard but a wireless fence does not keep out any critters. So Snickers got a snout full of skunk spray when he heard a noise on the far side of our house and ran to investigate it.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">NOTE:</span></b> The skunk spray is NOT the cause of the trouble to follow. However, looking back, I believe the skunk's presence in my yard was something that could have helped me to figure out the actual problem.<br />
<br />
I should mention here that I am not a country girl. I am a suburbian. Every now and again, I have lived within the city limits of a small city but mostly I have lived in the suburbs of large ones. I know nothing about wild animals except to stay away from them, but I have a friend who was raised in the country and she directed me to the <b><a href="http://www.humanesociety.org/animals/dogs/tips/de-skunking_dog.html?referrer=https://search.yahoo.com/" target="_blank">"shampoo" recipe for de-skunking my dog</a></b>.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQm9ygB7RIneKns7dJEC76gA0640gJMgOW6gtn5N4Cohazz6TUfWGo6iA0UFJAd1w2AzLG4JhHDcqfzGpX3Zn7bQXxHZGwd6jgxhG20p5Obooeu4U7IghbXkzzp1UUP9EQuq3OCJ1QIso/s1600/DSC03800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQm9ygB7RIneKns7dJEC76gA0640gJMgOW6gtn5N4Cohazz6TUfWGo6iA0UFJAd1w2AzLG4JhHDcqfzGpX3Zn7bQXxHZGwd6jgxhG20p5Obooeu4U7IghbXkzzp1UUP9EQuq3OCJ1QIso/s320/DSC03800.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Snickers insisted upon sitting "in" our laps</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Shortly after the skunk incident, Snickers' appetite suddenly decreased. A healthy dog, he was normally somewhat of a canine vacuum cleaner. It was very unlike him to stop eating his food, so I was quite worried and sought the help of a local veterinarian.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">NOTE: </span></b>Decreased appetite was my dog's ONLY noticeable symptom until the very end.<br />
<br />
At the time, Snickers had visited a pet clinic a couple of times and the doctors there were good but I did not feel he had his own vet. So I called my local animal shelter and asked for the name of their veterinarian. When I called, I was happy to be able to get Snickers in to see him right away and my opinion of this new vet went up a notch before I even met him.<br />
<br />
Blood work was done, symptoms were asked, temperature was taken and<b> the diagnosis was a bacterial infection.</b> The vet began Snickers' antibiotics with a shot and then I continued with oral medication at home. Three days later, there was no change in eating behavior so I called the vet again. We decided to try a different antibiotic and I picked it up that morning. The vet said it would be okay to give Snickers his first dose of the second medicine right away even though I had already dosed him with his original medicine, so that is what I did and he started to eat better that very afternoon.<br />
<br />
I breathed a sigh of relief that he had begun eating more normally but my relief did not last because Snickers' appetite declined again the next morning. By the second day on the new medicine, his appetite was still awful so I called the vet back to ask if I could maybe give Snickers both medicines together. I was given the go ahead and that is what I did but it did not help the situation. His appetite did not return. At his follow-up veterinary visit, though, Snickers' bacterial infection was gone and the vet dismissed his loss of appetite to advancing age. (Remember that Snickers was 8. Life expectancy for his breed is between 16-19 years so 8 is really just middle age.)<br />
<br />
Completely perplexed as to why my dog was not eating, I called to talk about him to the smartest people I know -- my parents. (Side note: It is really nice to be able to consult a rocket scientist whenever I have a problem I can't solve on my own.) After some discussion, we decided to get Snickers' teeth cleaned. My dad paid for the procedure with the condition that the vet was to remove NO teeth. My new vet agreed to that condition and I took Snickers in for the cleaning.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">NOTE:</span></b> I now know from research during Snickers' final days that regularly giving my dog raw bones to chew would have helped to keep his teeth naturally clean. I also know that adding a few drops of raw, unfiltered apple cider vinegar to his water dish would have helped to both clean tartar off of his teeth and introduce beneficial enzymes into his gut. <b>If I had known to do those two small things, my dog's teeth would likely have never needed a veterinary cleaning and he would not have lost many of them. If he had clean teeth, dental disease would never have been considered a potential diagnosis of the problem.</b><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3v459l95xo9zobyTqicO8q_yz6ejKAMXhjFFl8f-oYOU-NlLUGMkC5KJXRZm0kCt-F7tYYDjYNv9Uxe7CAaxUc8ltoPoWkfwBisdQahcx7u_mz3XgRWPoDrGZxV1UnjmyadbpKJM43Ex_/s1600/DSC03837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3v459l95xo9zobyTqicO8q_yz6ejKAMXhjFFl8f-oYOU-NlLUGMkC5KJXRZm0kCt-F7tYYDjYNv9Uxe7CAaxUc8ltoPoWkfwBisdQahcx7u_mz3XgRWPoDrGZxV1UnjmyadbpKJM43Ex_/s320/DSC03837.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">He was normally somewhat of<br />
a canine vacuum cleaner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I picked Snickers up from his dental cleaning on a Friday and that same weekend was when I got one of my biggest clues as to what was causing him to not eat. Unfortunately, I did not understand the clue.<br />
<br />
This was back when I was learning a little about herbal medicines (for humans) and I had determined to try to like eating raw garlic. I was sitting in the living room, eating pieces of french bread smeared with raw garlic butter (made with softened real butter and freshly chopped raw garlic), when it occurred to me to ask if Snickers might like to taste. He DID want to taste and he ate quite a few bits of my snack. The next day, Sunday, he was still not eating his dog food but he ate more <a href="https://www.natural-dog-health-remedies.com/garlic-for-dogs.html" target="_blank">raw garlic</a>-butter on bread.<br />
<br />
On Monday morning, I was delighted when my boy ate some of his dog food. I was sure he was on the mend and I attributed his healing to the dental cleaning.<br />
<br />
Still, I called and went to see the vet about the unapproved tooth extraction. Before I left, I asked about Snickers' appetite still not being as good as it should be. The vet dismissed my dog's continued, sole symptom. He told me that older dogs often have diminished appetites and he was not concerned by Snickers not eating as much as was usual.<br />
<br />
That same night, very late, I heard Snickers wake up, come downstairs and walk around the kitchen as if he wanted to go out. So I got up and came down to open the door to the back yard for him. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I slipped in something and fell on my kitchen floor, almost knocking over my ironing board and bringing the iron crashing down right by my head. (Lesson learned: I now always put away my ironing board immediately after I am done using it and let my iron cool down in my kitchen sink.)<br />
<br />
When I turned on my kitchen light to see what I had slipped in and clean it up, I saw loose stools mixed with quite a bit of blood. Snickers and I went back to bed after that and I called the vet in the morning. The vet told me that he was unconcerned by a single incident of bloody stools.<br />
<br />
Despite the vet's unconcern, I had been thinking about it and thought maybe eating raw garlic was the cause. Snickers had been eating quite a bit of it and I thought it might have irritated his stomach lining.<br />
<br />
[<b><span style="color: blue;">NOTE</span> </b>to the wise: <a href="https://www.natural-dog-health-remedies.com/garlic-for-dogs.html" target="_blank">Raw garlic</a> is antibacterial, antiviral and antifungal, so I really do WISH I had looked up <a href="https://www.natural-dog-health-remedies.com/garlic-for-dogs.html#how" target="_blank">the correct amount</a> of it to feed him as a <a href="https://www.natural-dog-health-remedies.com/garlic-for-dogs.html" target="_blank">natural remedy</a> because it might have saved his life.]<br />
<br />
Again, I asked about Snickers' decreased appetite and the vet told me that he was satisfied that nothing more was wrong with my dog but if I wanted to pursue the matter, I could take him to a veterinary internal medicine specialist. The nearest specialist, he told me, was about 100 miles away.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAi5lgLFZDaKF4lAhyphenhyphenZdIehjRQwK48YUxHOLgfbDf51G81b8oHjuqq_eIDSJ5ZH-pTVmJtyaWP75qyNQxxIogWkOupjB_y98oxyOOIyL4T7PvklfxXn8CXMZVDGmQ-qmYcihbfjEqJ4Rb/s1600/Snickers%2526Anne.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAi5lgLFZDaKF4lAhyphenhyphenZdIehjRQwK48YUxHOLgfbDf51G81b8oHjuqq_eIDSJ5ZH-pTVmJtyaWP75qyNQxxIogWkOupjB_y98oxyOOIyL4T7PvklfxXn8CXMZVDGmQ-qmYcihbfjEqJ4Rb/s320/Snickers%2526Anne.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Snickers loved his sister.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Because of the expense involved with driving 200 miles for each internal medicine visit,<i style="font-weight: bold;"> because the vet said he was comfortable there was not a medical problem and because Snickers' appetite seemed to be getting better, I did not seek out the help of the veterinary specialist.</i> I feel in retrospect that this was one of my biggest failures. However, it was not my <i><u>biggest</u> </i>failure.<br />
<br />
Over the next year and a half, I tried all sorts of different foods with Snickers and he would eat for a few days, but then stop eating until I gave him a different food. His appetite would decrease and then it would get better again for no apparent reason. He did still lick our dishes after meals and we thought he was just being stubborn about wanting more dietary variety and wanting to eat human food. I did notice that his appetite picked up a little during my yogurt-eating phase, but I did not think much of it. As we needed to coax him to eat, often needed to spoon-feed him and he displayed no other symptoms, we really did think he was just acting spoiled.<br />
<br />
Right before Thanksgiving this year, Snickers was eating about 1/3 can of dog food at dinner every night. He would wait to eat until we had finished our meals, lick our plates and then eat his own food. He generally ate table scraps for lunch... in the living room and on a people plate, of course, and sometimes also ate some canned dog food out of his dog bowl. It was not optimal eating behavior for a dog but I decided I could live with needing to spoil my stubborn pet to get him to eat.<br />
<br />
Money is very tight for me so on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, when I came across a brand of canned dog food at my local dollar store that would have helped me cut my dog food costs almost in half, I felt hopeful. I picked up one can and tried it out on Snickers that evening. I was not alarmed when he turned his nose up at the new food. I was disappointed. Remember, I thought he was being picky because he was spoiled. (Not the case at all, it turns out.)<br />
<br />
On Wednesday night, the first night of the Thanksgiving holiday weekend (when all my local vet offices were closed), Snickers also turned up his nose at his favorite flavor of his normal brand of dog food. This concerned me but I was not yet truly alarmed because of the eating habits he had been displaying over the past year and a half.<br />
<br />
My daughter and I did as we normally did when he stopped eating and proceeded to offer him multiple different kinds of people foods to get him to start eating again. We tried all sorts of foods with very little success. He would eat just one or two bites of whatever he tasted and would then stop. I think the most he ate all weekend was a serving of stuffing from when I accidentally dropped my Thanksgiving plate on the kitchen floor. (Arthritis can be a real bummer!)<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdJLGrvd54QjMRUT0asRcaksw-W7u25NfC1vlQCEpug3blsM9VJ7oJfJOoqROaXkKt6ppb9ZBi6nf8e6sEm6H5qtps6ymNAH1i64vz03xtEs43voNKpK8xPp1p0CgHsqAqWbRDCqIbIn9/s1600/DSC03988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdJLGrvd54QjMRUT0asRcaksw-W7u25NfC1vlQCEpug3blsM9VJ7oJfJOoqROaXkKt6ppb9ZBi6nf8e6sEm6H5qtps6ymNAH1i64vz03xtEs43voNKpK8xPp1p0CgHsqAqWbRDCqIbIn9/s320/DSC03988.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Snickers loved his big brother.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We were very worried by the end of the long weekend. After 5 days of eating almost nothing, Snickers had lost so much weight that he was having trouble walking down the stairs. The first thing I did on Monday morning was call the veterinary clinic I had originally ditched in favor of a local vet. I got an appointment right away and took Snickers in. Snickers weighed in at 22.8 pounds. He had lost 1/5 of his body weight! (His normal weight was just shy of 28 pounds.)<br />
<br />
We saw <a href="https://tcvcmarinette.com/veterinarians-and-staff/" target="_blank">Dr. Kurtis Hallgren</a> and I have to say that I am well impressed with him. He was very patient with me, answered my questions, fed me information and gave me guidance on what to do to try to help my dog. He diagnosed Snickers with stage 1 kidney failure and slightly less prominent Pancreatitis (still not the original cause of the appetite loss). Faced with the<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/snickers-final-expense-relief-fund" target="_blank">expense of the proposed treatment plan</a><span id="goog_1114889130"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1114889131"></span></span>, many low-income people like me would have chosen to put their dogs to sleep, but we could not bear the thought of that. We began a treatment plan right then and the vet even gave me a<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://pennypinchingprojectlady.blogspot.com/2017/12/how-i-made-homemade-kidney-safe.html" target="_blank">recipe for homemade dog food</a></span> that is both kidney safe and pancreas friendly.<br />
<br />
The vet's dog food recipe was the same recipe that I already used for my homemade dog food except that it gave me some variation options. So even though Snickers would not longer eat my normal homemade food, I made up a modified new batch for him to try out. He refused to even taste it. I looked online for dog food recipes and found a book on Amazon called <a href="http://ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ac&ref=tf_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=pennypinche03-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=1617811548&asins=1617811548&linkId=2e9101ed0be569887e4e0f4803cc03ec&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true&price_color=333333&title_color=0066c0&bg_color=ffffff" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Neutrogenics</span></a> that I determined to buy and try out IF we could get Snickers on the road to recovery.<br />
<br />
This is a long post but I have gone into this much detail to show our confusion and frustration, the distress and failed attempts to diagnose the original cause of the appetite loss that eventually caused the loss of our 4-legged family member.<br />
<br />
Please come back tomorrow to read the conclusion of this story and learn what you can do to protect your own pet from the primary problem I have come to believe Snickers really suffered.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-66973074433070776212017-03-14T07:41:00.000-05:002017-05-30T14:43:17.654-05:00Podcast Over, Medical Test Scheduled<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After 8 regularly produced episodes that took many hours to prepare, the purchase of a microphone, a microphone stand and a splatter guard, the podcast is not collecting any listeners or sponsors. I had hoped for at least some regular listeners by now.<br />
<br />
I guess this means I am meant write instead of podcast. That is confusing, though, because if I am meant to write, then why is my right hand not getting any better? I can barely use it! Unfortunately, the "pain management" doctor I saw last Thursday who originally thought I have carpal tunnel syndrome changed his mind when he saw the results of the EMG he just took.<br />
<br />
Because of the conflicting test results (the original, "manual" test in the doctor's office that indicated carpal tunnel and the EMG which did not), we are not scheduling surgery. Instead, we have scheduled an "injection" on the 30th for diagnostic purposes. If that works to relieve this discomfort and restore some function to my hand, we will know that we are at least fumbling around in the correct area. <br />
<br />
Oh, how nice it would be to get rid of this constant tingling and use my fingers again! Please pray with me that we find the solution so that I can return to writing. Podcasting is clearly not for me.<br />
<br />
*** UPDATE ***<br />
The injection was interesting because the needle actually kinda hurt going into my carpal tunnel. In fact, I jumped when it was inserted, which is uncommon for me. I also felt the fluid being injected, also a new experience. It made my hand feel "puffy" and sore for several days, even more difficult to use and the tingling did not go away at all. I am calling the test a *FAIL*.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-39611018024889598702016-12-31T12:30:00.000-06:002017-03-03T10:08:23.141-06:00Listen to My NEW Podcast!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I decided about a week ago that I should start a <span style="color: red; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>podcast</b></span>. There is a story as to why, of course, but I think I will save the story for later. (It will make good podcast material!) A large part of it is that I am having issues with my hand that make it SUPER-hard for me to type, and I am not yet finished sharing stories from my life to help strengthen the faith-life of others. (More on the hand issue after I visit a doctor.) </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
With the idea of podcasting in mind, I went to Fiverr and commissioned an iTunes cover to be made for my cast and then I got to writing my first episode. I also purchased a cheap desktop microphone because my USB headset makes my voice sound "tinny." I know. I should not be spending money on equipment for a podcast I am giving away for free. But hopefully people will like my content and want to help me out with a buck or two a month to help keep me going. At least, that is my hope!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Before I continue, let me show you the iTunes cover I got back from my Fiverr purchase. It is really good! I am so pleased with it!! (Feel free to forward to your friends.)</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.patreon.com/bethdurkee" target="_blank"><img alt=" Click to visit!" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw1d25PeswcB5IgUcRQC6-hflnpz5vnLU-GzRAAe5-ojMM88QYPkz6N3M-_g9U0g6PnV5WZM8au-5JV1XNpuyBTE2PGpNJnRPnZSCL0MChMT_mOW_lh1yNHyVfPchi4Jh811kLZHT8qfA/s320/ltg_cover_1400px.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Listen to the episodes at <a href="http://www.patreon.com/bethdurkee">http://www.patreon.com/bethdurkee</a> or subscribe/follow free on iTunes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Only the free episodes will be available on iTunes.)</div>
<br />
<br />
What do you think? Nice, huh? Yeah, that is what I think, too.<br />
<br />
I call <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">episode 1 "Ask According to His Will." </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It will air tomorrow for everyone, both my sponsors (that I don't yet have) and all the as-yet non-existent subscribers to/followers of my free iTunes channel. After the first episode, though, I intend to post on the 2nd and 16th of the month. (Of course, my sponsors will get to listen a day early as a benefit for their pledges. I think that is only fair. Don't you?)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For you, though, my faithful blog readers for so many years, I have a special sneak peek of a portion of episode 1. I do hope you will find it interesting enough to listen to the episode and subscribe. In it, I tell a short story from my youth, which I then support by Scripture, followed by an answer to a question I received that I share anonymously with listeners.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I guess that is all for today, so until my podcast tomorrow morning, I shall bid you adieu.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">[excerpt]</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">My
neighborhood was NOT safe for little girls to be walking alone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">But the
Lord loves children and He must really have been watching over me while I was
seeking Him because little 6<sup>th</sup> grade me, I was walking 2 miles by
myself each way to and from church every single morning along a busy road in
the suburbs of Chicago during the era of John Wayne Gacy – and I stayed safe
all summer long. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">But that’s
not what this story is about.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">What I’m
trying to get to is a prayer that I made. It was on one of these walks to and
from church during that summer. I was alone except for the Holy Spirit who was
clearly watching over me, and for some reason – I don’t know, maybe because of
the sermon I’d just heard, but I really don’t remember. For some reason, I
reflected that if there was one thing I wanted for my life it was to leave
people better for having known me....</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-37939534947986854712016-11-28T16:17:00.001-06:002016-11-28T20:21:07.683-06:00I've Got This<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today is my 24<sup>th</sup> wedding anniversary but those
who do not know me may easily be unaware that I have been without the
affections of my husband since a few weeks before our 15th. Since then I have
steeped myself in prayer awaiting restoration.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZk_QWZHlCSti9PSucPj6hFoFlqa1cDTHQL29S5HfPm-N6Vtr3kqYHDID-EhJa00vP5nEjct2OoDP6brd4IO2sDMKqNgrbs3p7Mu6ZowQiTb9KitN1OuFGmbRLdPf_Atwa4gD4MyHKys/s1600/panchosmenu_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZk_QWZHlCSti9PSucPj6hFoFlqa1cDTHQL29S5HfPm-N6Vtr3kqYHDID-EhJa00vP5nEjct2OoDP6brd4IO2sDMKqNgrbs3p7Mu6ZowQiTb9KitN1OuFGmbRLdPf_Atwa4gD4MyHKys/s1600/panchosmenu_01.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning was just like any other Monday morning and as I
noted the date, I was a little surprised to discover it was THE day. With great
relief, I was pleased to feel nothing about it. I proceeded through my morning
routine, marveling from time to time at my utter lack of emotion about the day.
I was, however, strangely hungry for a particular menu item at an old favorite
restaurant in <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state>
(where I no longer reside), Pancho's Mexican Buffet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a brief moment, I considered driving the hour to my
nearest city for <br />
<a name='more'></a>lunch at the Olive Garden (we would usually go to an Italian or
Mexican restaurant for dinner on our anniversary) but I decided it was too a long
drive for lunch alone in a nice restaurant. How sad would that be? I would just
go to my normal Monday lunch spot where I at least know the servers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I walked into my Monday lunch spot and announced myself as
usual, looked at the server chart to see who was in which section as usual, told
the hostess which table I would be sitting at and seated myself as usual. I was
ready for a normal Monday, but that’s when something very abnormal happened. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I passed the bar to get to my table, the bartender
announced to me, “Barbecue ribs, buttered potatoes, garlic bread and a salad.”
(Nobody else was in the room.) My ears perked up and I made her repeat herself.
She never does this for me because I never sit at the bar, but she was telling
me the special of the week – and it was <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state>
food! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few minutes later, I sat eating my plate of barbecue and
thinking about how, if I were still home in <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state>, I would probably be eating barbecue
for lunch. Of course, it would be better barbecue… but barbecue nonetheless. It
occurred to me that it was as if God was saying to me, “No worries. I’ve got
this.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I felt touched and warmed by the lunch special that was what
my mother might call a “happy accident.” Still, I missed the Tiramisu I would
probably have had for dessert if I had gone to the city. I determined that I
would go to my local Walmart grocery after lunch and look for a cupcake. That would be
good enough, I decided.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I walked into the grocery side of Walmart, I saw the
display of $5, $10 and $15 bouquets near the entrance to the produce section
and, although carnations are not my favorites, I decided I would pick up a $5
bouquet for myself. I looked through the flowers for the most pleasing color
combination and started to pull out a bunch of carnations when a different
bunch, not carnations, caught my eye. I checked the price: $5. Again, “I’ve got
this,” rested on my heart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I then proceeded to the bakery to find my cupcake. I would
have been happy with a slice of cake, too, but I wanted white cake, not
chocolate. Unfortunately, there did not appear to be any cupcakes in with the
muffins and the only slices of cake I saw in the center section were…
chocolate, double chocolate, red velvet, carrot. There was no white cake. I
moved to the glass case, hoping there were different pieces of cake there, and
saw single-serve, plastic encased slices of tiramisu! I smiled, knowing and
again feeling the words, “I’ve got this.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At this point, I felt content. The message had been received
but I walked into Walmart to see if I could find a little something “solid” to
keep as an anniversary gift for myself. I thought $5, maybe up to $10, would be
okay to spend on a pinky ring or piece of jewelry for myself and I headed to
that section. I did not see any $10 rings, so I proceeded to the cheap earrings
section but then, just like I probably would have done if my husband were with
me, I reflected that I really do not need any more jewelry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I decided to go look (again) at fabric. I have been looking
for red fabric for a dress I want to make but have not found any I like that is
affordable for me. On my way to the fabric section, I passed the scented
candles and picked one up that I liked. I figured that if I didn’t find any
fabric I liked (I was not expecting to since I have recently checked without
success), the glass container could serve as something to commemorate the day. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I continued on to the fabric section where I walked directly
to a bolt of red fabric that is perfect for my dress. I checked the price to
find it was $1.50 per yard. As I need 5 yards, the total price would be $7.50 –
not $5 but just in the middle of my $5 to $10 budget! It was the perfect
anniversary gift. I was so pleased that I picked up a box of candies for myself
(another thing I have not done in years).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But that is not all. After I checked out with my purchases,
I looked at my receipt to count up what I had spent on red thread, new needles
and pins and other miscellany. That is when I saw the price of my fabric rang
up at not $1.50 a yard but $1 per yard – for a total of $5, the exact amount I had
originally budgeted for my anniversary memento. Again, I knew I was being told,
“Don’t worry. I remember and I’ve got this.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsB8lBoE-zXKBBOHZRs-VTFG1a_nl4fV_1FML4V_D7Glm4sJpbDAMRs8ubJpAxXKwNT7pYu2ujo8Gdu_fC9MPu2QZPCHRk0mcBz7V7K8BsUFKu6G5-tEUSnd8z3Q4xfttck2Lj3zwYwhU/s1600/DSC03717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsB8lBoE-zXKBBOHZRs-VTFG1a_nl4fV_1FML4V_D7Glm4sJpbDAMRs8ubJpAxXKwNT7pYu2ujo8Gdu_fC9MPu2QZPCHRk0mcBz7V7K8BsUFKu6G5-tEUSnd8z3Q4xfttck2Lj3zwYwhU/s320/DSC03717.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Has my true story warmed your heart of helped strengthen your faith? If so, PLEASE give it a +1 and SHARE with other believers so that they can also benefit!</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>http://awritersblot.blogspot.com/2016/11/ive-got-this.html</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-76058019622904442042016-04-04T17:09:00.000-05:002016-04-04T17:09:00.183-05:00A New Addiction<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I think I am addicted to cream cheese. Is that possible? Whenever I start eating it, I cannot stop until either I am gorged or it is finished. That is the sign of an addict. Right?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">
<a href="https://s.yimg.com/fz/api/res/1.2/KcHrDJ7ouOw6FVhbgkAzBA--/YXBwaWQ9c3JjaGRkO2g9NTg0O3E9OTU7dz04MDA-/https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG8A4p8o9nl9BzTKVHpdjrhhX9-k2FPTV4PsM4fKjze4t6FU0ng6RmvnuVfPpQ9KSt9Y8hOk7ZlPdKHvQXJPr4AIaIJZINQNz1rjugyPk9Za_26U7da0HFkcSKovZ4hQJrff7G360fnps/s1600/Cream-cheese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG8A4p8o9nl9BzTKVHpdjrhhX9-k2FPTV4PsM4fKjze4t6FU0ng6RmvnuVfPpQ9KSt9Y8hOk7ZlPdKHvQXJPr4AIaIJZINQNz1rjugyPk9Za_26U7da0HFkcSKovZ4hQJrff7G360fnps/s200/Cream-cheese.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Before I took my Christmas vacation, I bought two bricks of cream cheese (they were on sale) and put them in the door of my fridge. So they were sitting there unopened when I got back home. Not a problem. As long as I don't open the cream cheese, I am fine. But, like an unconfessed addict, I made the mistake of thinking I could keep my addiction under control if I made <b><i>just one</i></b> brick of cream cheese dip. Cream cheese, after all, is grain-free. It fits into my diet plan... sort of.<br />
<br />
Big mistake. I now have <i><b>NO</b></i> cream cheese in the door of my fridge. There is not one tablespoon of cream cheese in my fridge anywhere. It has all made its way to my hips and belly. What's worse is that <br />
<a name='more'></a>I don't remember making the first brick of cream cheese into dip or even eating it. I know I must have. But it disappeared so quickly that I don't remember it going. I do remember what happened to the second brick, though. I <b>melted the 8 oz. brick of cream cheese together with 1/2 cup of sour cream and 1/2 cup of shredded cheddar cheese</b>. Then I tasted it. There was something missing so I tried to figure it out on my own.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Artichokes, I think,</i> I decided. But I was not sure. So I called my mom for confirmation of my hypothesis. (I need confirmation! How else will I know if I am right?) We proceeded to get into a big discussion about what might and might not taste good in my dip's combination of flavors (She is such a codependent enabler!) and, at one point, she said, "<i>Oooh</i>... You know what <i>might </i>be good is spinach with the artichokes."<br />
<br />
Okay, Mom. Really? Everybody does spinach-artichoke dip and spinach was the first thing I thought<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s.yimg.com/fz/api/res/1.2/5osVHNU5th_.3b.vwCdNYw--/YXBwaWQ9c3JjaGRkO2g9MTYxMjtxPTk1O3c9MjAxNA--/http://omgobsessed.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/spinach2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://s.yimg.com/fz/api/res/1.2/5osVHNU5th_.3b.vwCdNYw--/YXBwaWQ9c3JjaGRkO2g9MTYxMjtxPTk1O3c9MjAxNA--/http://omgobsessed.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/spinach2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
about. I did not mention it because it was vetoed. Why was it vetoed? Well, the reason was how I phrased my response. This was an amiable conversation, after all.<br />
<br />
"You know, I thought about spinach. I think baby spinach would taste really good <i style="text-decoration: underline;">but</i> I was reading, not too long ago, and I learned that <b>spinach you buy at the store has <i>so many pesticides</i> in it from when it was being grown that it is <i>physically impossible</i> to wash them off your food.</b> So I don't want to use spinach."<br />
<br />
Before I tell you her answer, which is pretty much the end of this post because it just does not make sense, I have to say that my mother is a very intelligent woman. In addition to holding a Masters degree that took her five years of full-time study to complete because of the prerequisites she needed to fulfill, her bachelor's degree is in microbiology. When it comes to pesticides being absorbed into the leaves of commercially grown plants, she should get it.<br />
<br />
I think she really does get it. I just think her brain was not fully engaged for some reason. She replied, <b>"Well, I was not talking about baby spinach like you would get in the produce section. I was talking about frozen spinach."</b><br />
<br />
See what I mean? Either brain not fully engaged or brain too focused on trying to solve a problem. If I can't wash the pesticides off of young, whole, fresh spinach leaves, how am I going to wash them off of older, chopped, frozen spinach leaves??<br />
<br />
<a href="https://sp.yimg.com/ib/th?id=OIP.Md48c0c74949945408c90e8c00ccf7946o0&pid=15.1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://sp.yimg.com/ib/th?id=OIP.Md48c0c74949945408c90e8c00ccf7946o0&pid=15.1" width="200" /></a>My artichoke dip tasted just fine without any other additions. (Hypothesis proven.) However, eating it created a new problem for me. <b>I think I have developed an addiction to artichoke hearts.</b> Once I taste their flavor, I cannot stop eating until they are all gone.<br />
<br />
Does anybody have a good, low-cal recipe for artichoke dip? I bought another can of them but I want to keep my calorie intake low.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-82659025224887043532016-03-24T09:30:00.000-05:002016-04-01T12:51:21.836-05:00continued... 7 pounds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was sitting in my favorite lunch restaurant, munching on a cheeseburger and fries, my diet completely abandoned. I was almost done when my friend, Mary, passed by my table. I could have ignored her but I caught her attention. I wanted to say something to her. I did not much care what I said. I just wanted a 30-second chat. So I told her that I was craving chocolate and, in fact, I had been craving chocolate every day since I got home.<br />
<br />
I was kind of expecting a typical response about emotional eating and how I must be stressed. After all, that is how I would have responded. But not Mary. Mary knows "stuff about stuff." (I know stuff about stuff, too. I just know stuff about different stuff than Mary knows.)<br />
<br />
Mary said, <b>"You need more Magnesium."</b> We got into a nice discussion about candy cravings and Magnesium. We also talked about vitamin B. Both are good supplements to take. I then went out to <br />
<a name='more'></a>my local pharmacy and picked up a few bottles of pills -- Magnesium, vitamin B and vitamin E. My new pill-taking regimen began that very day. (Yes, I am now a pill popper... and a gummy eater. My vitamin B complex came in gummy form. Yum.)<br />
<br />
I figured that while I was already taking pills, I might as well include some fiber capsules. I almost always have fiber pills in the house. Fiber is really good for your immune health. (Age-old "stuff about stuff" that I keep in my head.) Which, of course, meant that I would be drinking <i>plenty </i>of water.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Well, if I am going to be drinking a lot of water anyway, I might as well watch what I eat so I can lose these excess 7 pounds,</i> I thought.<br />
<br />
That is how I got sucked back into dieting. This time, though, I was not going to eat only raw vegetables. I decided to look up the paleo diet theory. I have to say it does kind of make sense. However, I really like cheese, I am not giving it up. Bread, okay. Cheese, no way. Not happening, bub. I am a cheese eater. So, with that exception, I began a paleo diet.<br />
<br />
I started losing about half a pound every other day. I was very happy with the results, but I also wished I could lose a little more each day. Then I saw an online ad. Ugh. Online ads. I should really stop clicking the links and listening to them. This ad promised easy weight loss of about a pound a day by just making some simple dietary changes and adding specific herbs to your diet. Curious about the herb combination that would help me lose weight faster (I love herbs and grow the ones I use in my summer garden each year), I invested my money (via my credit card).<br />
<br />
Bad idea. The "herb" combination was not herbs at all. Spirulina (a type of algae), wheatgrass (just like what it sounds) and cacao powder, NONE of which are herbs. Plus, <b><i>YUCK</i></b><i>!</i> Nevertheless, I bought the eBook. Therefore I was going to try the combination. I did pretty well, I think. I bought the very expensive "herbs" at the health food store, then swallowed the resulting swill (pardon my language) for two days straight, morning and evening like the instructions said to do.<br />
<br />
My results were that I stopped losing my every-other-day half pound and I began to <i><b>itch </b></i>uncontrollably. I stopped drinking the swill and my itching subsided. So I sent an email to the support desk. My "subscription" that I paid for came with support desk help. I told them the problem. They sent me back an email telling me to START drinking the liquid again and to start exercising.<br />
<br />
Being stupid, I did what I was told. The itching came back and I think it might have been worse. I decided to look up allergies to wheatgrass and spirulina. (I am NOT allergic to chocolate!) Lo and behold! Wheatgrass is a possible allergen. One of the symptoms of a wheatgrass allergy is itching. Another, more severe reaction is respiratory distress. I am not interested in being unable to breathe. I stopped taking the wheatgrass/spirulina mixture. I feel much better now but my weight loss did not resume.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, that part happened pretty quickly and I had messaged more than once with the help desk. Just before I learned about the wheatgrass allergy, they messaged me to try drinking some apple cider vinegar in water for a few days. This I know to be a legitimate trick to lose weight. So I started doing that and my weight loss began again. It was still slow, but at least I was losing. In fact, after two straight months of dieting, I have finally lost all 7 pounds I put on during my 3 week vacation.<br />
<br />
(7 pounds divided by 8 weeks is just under 1 pound per week.)<br />
<br />
Am I going to stop the diet? I don't think so. I have put on quite a few pounds since I was 30 and I would like to lose them. My intention is to keep going for another week. That is when I go down to visit my parents and I know my mom wants me to help her eat some lasagna, so I will break my diet for a couple of days. Then, when I come home, I hope I will have the will power to go back on it again.<br />
<br />
What have I been doing? It is actually pretty simple. I cut all wheat products and most grains out of my diet. Also, if I eat breakfast, I eat just fruit, no meat or eggs. At dinner, I make sure to eat a salad with my meal (vinaigrette salad dressing). Most important, though, is I cut all soft drinks out of my diet and I drink plenty of water.<br />
<br />
7 pounds is all I have lost this far (and it was NOT all "water weight," thank you very much). But 7 pounds has already helped my face lose some pudginess AND my weight now ends in a "9," which makes me <i>feel </i>like I have lost 10 pounds because the digit in the tens place is 1 lower than it was when I got home from vacation.<br />
<br />
Yay, me! I am doing it and I am just so pleased that I have lasted on my diet for this long.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-58956576033564101002016-03-21T09:30:00.000-05:002018-04-02T22:57:11.172-05:007 pounds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">One thing that invariably happens</span> while vacationing is unwanted weight gain. Being sedentary instead of exercise, dining out instead of in, casually munching calorie laden morsels with friends (and more often than usual) all contribute to the inevitable.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jRxkAF_ssWCvwpVPcE6ykZYOm4cF65iSCCcvNseccmaUEDVt1wj3hMbZrH-l861iEEozBQy5qNd3GVUvBXwpd7j0LUloxE7nPF2u6m9DLTX76gXGwko7jYRrFK0jt1Bwqpw86bHAiMQ/s1600/DSC03127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jRxkAF_ssWCvwpVPcE6ykZYOm4cF65iSCCcvNseccmaUEDVt1wj3hMbZrH-l861iEEozBQy5qNd3GVUvBXwpd7j0LUloxE7nPF2u6m9DLTX76gXGwko7jYRrFK0jt1Bwqpw86bHAiMQ/s200/DSC03127.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Having been traveling for almost a full month, I was pretty sure I had gained weight and my pictures agree. (I think most of it while I was chomping on yummy Tex-Mex in Texas!) Not wanting the new additions to my waistline to stay, I determined while I was still on the road that I would measure the damage as soon as I got home and then begin dieting right away.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmIo1lR5TzLS88chfeYg5Pr5stRNM17sMuL1Ibf5RhbV9m35RLJvz2mRIBa89d5KGrkG5gwA572VjOHvsZYrTxUrYTwhhBSBJ-6KrHfTIr1OWqCfYCRCrXGQMAqMcz1O8RuRsX98ytlo/s1600/DSC03248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmIo1lR5TzLS88chfeYg5Pr5stRNM17sMuL1Ibf5RhbV9m35RLJvz2mRIBa89d5KGrkG5gwA572VjOHvsZYrTxUrYTwhhBSBJ-6KrHfTIr1OWqCfYCRCrXGQMAqMcz1O8RuRsX98ytlo/s200/DSC03248.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
However, remember, my parents were at my house when I got home. So the diet had to wait until they left.<br />
<br />
I will have <br />
<a name='more'></a>you know that I am very proud of myself for successfully refusing every morsel of food that my mother tried to leave in my fridge with me... Okay, <i>almost </i>every morsel. I did let her leave a jar of spaghetti sauce (in the freezer) and a few pieces of fresh fruit. But, honestly, that is about as well as I could do.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 1</b> after I returned home my parents were there, but I still weighed myself first thing in the morning. (That is my personally designated weigh-in time. By keeping the time of my weigh-ins consistent, I can get a more accurate measurement of my progress.) The damage was surprisingly not bad: <b><span style="color: blue;">7 pounds</span></b>.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #4c1130;">That's not so bad. I can easily lose 7 pounds</span>,</i> I thought as I remembered that my personal prodigal once told me the first 10 pounds I lost would all be "water weight." (<b>Note:</b> I am now convinced he was <b><i><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">wrong </span></i></b>and that he was trying to belittle my then accomplishment of having lost 10 pounds... I really do need to have an avatar drawn for him.) I waited to begin losing until the morning after my parents left for their home. The I woke up and went to the grocery for all new food.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Plan 1: </b>I was not going to officially diet. I was going to change my lifestyle, which would cause me to lose weight <i>and </i>benefit my health. I was determined. I was going to become a rawist. (Yay!) It was a great idea. No cooked food would ever again pass between my lips, meaning my system would clean itself out and in just a short time I would begin feeling amazing. After I bought a few morning groceries to get me through the first few days, I went online and found a couple of rawist vegetarian websites to help with recipes. I even went to Amazon and bought a paperback book of rawist recipes. I was ready to go!<br />
<br />
How many days of food did I say I bought? Three? Yep. That is about how long my lifestyle change lasted. Talk about hard! No cooked food means no meat, no bread, no potatoes, no rice... and <i>lots </i>(I mean <u><i>lots</i></u>) of time spent in the kitchen preparing meals. The following week, I was sitting in my favorite lunch spot again, happily munching on a cheeseburger and french fries.<br />
<br />
<i>to be continued...</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-17757464511050698412016-03-17T16:30:00.000-05:002016-03-18T08:16:31.288-05:00Lunch with a Leprechaun<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Lunch<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifM-m0t1aI9mQ8EwroW8XXKDLVcmxiXjzA-Vw-8_yDCBKJf89HEk0wejxOTFIn79iB2xmwUMorcRpTRBjQhtopknOAvf3vKhRsYU7JLlrbT-H_2XvNvszpWaGfkQtUKRSdZ38nT5OlBZk/s1600/St+Pats+waitress.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifM-m0t1aI9mQ8EwroW8XXKDLVcmxiXjzA-Vw-8_yDCBKJf89HEk0wejxOTFIn79iB2xmwUMorcRpTRBjQhtopknOAvf3vKhRsYU7JLlrbT-H_2XvNvszpWaGfkQtUKRSdZ38nT5OlBZk/s400/St+Pats+waitress.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A leprechaun server</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Did you know that "Saint Patrick" is not a saint?</b> That's right. He was never canonized, meaning he is NOT an "official" Catholic saint (though he does have a feast day, March 17, and many Catholic churches are named after him). When early Christian admirers began calling him a "saint" because of his good works, the title just stuck.<br />
<br />
<b>Did you know that Bishop Patrick (aka Saint Patrick) who is celebrated as the patron saint of Ireland was not even Irish?</b> True fact. He was British. Kidnapped in his early teens and forced to work as a slave in Ireland, he was able to escape after receiving a vision in a dream. Years later, he became a Catholic priest and, after receiving another guiding dream, returned to Ireland to spread the promise of salvation.<br />
<br />
Around the world, March 17th is now celebrated by people of all different faiths and cultures. Boiled potatoes, corned beef and cooked cabbage is the traditional holiday fare in the United States and anyone who fails to wear a small bit of green (the traditional color of Irish Catholics) is subject to <br />
<a name='more'></a>being <i><u>pinched</u></i> at random by friendly acquaintances. [It is an evil tradition, if you ask me. I always forget to wear green!]<br />
<br />
Living in a small town, like I do, has its benefits because most local establishments are laid back enough to allow holiday vigor. One such place in my community is a small pizzeria. Though dressing up does not encourage bigger daytime tips from patrons (though there will likely be plenty of tipping at bars/pubs tonight), some festive servers do our community a service on Saint Patrick's Day by bringing good cheer via the means of dressing up in "Irish" garb.<br />
<br />
As I mentioned, I am NOT dressed in green today. I don't know if I even own any green. But allow me to add to the work of my leprechaun friend by extending an Irish blessing to you and yours.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>May your thoughts be as glad as the shamrocks. </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>May your
heart be as light as a song. </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>May each day bring you bright, happy hours. </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>That
stay with you all year long.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;"><b>Happy Saint Patrick's Day!</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
(Note the green.)<br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>P. S. </b>Did <i>you </i>spread any "Irish" cheer today? If so, how? Please post in the comments section below. I would love to read how you celebrated!</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-57751337674957151152016-03-14T09:30:00.000-05:002016-03-16T08:32:47.734-05:00The Resurrection and Death of my Prize<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you have been reading my blog for a while, you may remember my excitement to have finally gotten an avocado seed to sprout after roughly 20 years of trying. Here is the link in case you don't remember: <a href="http://awritersblot.blogspot.com/2013/09/a-different-angle-to-method.html" target="_blank">http://awritersblot.blogspot.com/2013/09/a-different-angle-to-method.html </a> Since then, my avocado plant has grown quite well and I have transplanted it to a couple of different pots.<br />
<br />
I like to use self-watering pots so I don't have to worry that my prize plant will die of thirst. But knowing that I would be gone for almost a full month, I knew I needed to make arrangements for <br />
<a name='more'></a>someone to come water it at least once a week. Thankfully, I have a trusty neighbor who is usually willing to help me in exchange for a loaf of nut-free banana bread. But this is where it gets tricky.<br />
<br />
You see, in the past when I have asked my trusty neighbor to watch my plants AND my parents came over to my house while I was gone, he has seen them at the house and assumed his job was done. On these past occasions, it was inconvenient to come home and find my plants somewhat thirsty but it was not critical. Until September 2013, all my house plants were succulents and I rarely go away for longer than two weeks at a time.<br />
<br />
This time, I did leave my neighbor in charge of watering my plants while I would be gone. He is a nice old guy who seems to genuinely want to be helpful ad he is right next door. But I let him know my parents would be coming over once and he should still come to water my plants because I would be gone for a full month. I also stressed that I have a tropical plant that <i>needs </i>water at <i>least </i>once a week and he should make sure to give it a good drink if that was as often as he would be watering it. He indicated his understanding of the situation and said he would water my plants. So I trusted him with my prize.<br />
<br />
I was on the phone with my mom on my return trip, at Anne's university apartment, when she said something about being unable to get to my house again until the same weekend I returned. This perked up my ears and I asked how many times they had visited. When she said she and Dad had made the trip twice, a huge knot formed in my stomach. I thought, <i>Oh no! </i>and wondered if I should call the neighbor. But I didn't. I thought, <i>Well, I did tell him they would be visiting. He should figure out that he still needs to water my plants.</i><br />
<br />
Yeah. I was stupid. I should have called.<br />
<br />
When I got home on Saturday afternoon, the first thing I did was put a smile on my face. I was tired from driving and very ready to enter my nice, clean house to relax. But I knew my parents were doing construction. So I knew the house would be a mess and I would not be able to relax. But I had a Wapaghetti's pizza in hand for dinner and I had been warned about the mess. So it was okay. I walked into my formerly clean house, said hi to my folks and greeted my <i>very happy</i> dog. Oh, was Snickers happy I came home.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1d01WWe9QJGczxHibk6dT2B7kdBv5MyvvHJNyUpIbNpAVMS9HHNmW6ofbNWRgL1CJfLeJC6q6-eQZiNgXqF28Ea-gKCkLhXoWY5qFxofZ7r1dIhrdOBe2By_w82vHwpZW_BQw8D30REI/s1600/DSC03300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1d01WWe9QJGczxHibk6dT2B7kdBv5MyvvHJNyUpIbNpAVMS9HHNmW6ofbNWRgL1CJfLeJC6q6-eQZiNgXqF28Ea-gKCkLhXoWY5qFxofZ7r1dIhrdOBe2By_w82vHwpZW_BQw8D30REI/s320/DSC03300.JPG" width="240" /></a>Between putting down my pizza and petting the dog, I located my avocado tree. It was in front of my picture window in my living room and it looked very withered, but the soil had a wet spot around the tree trunk. So, despite its sick appearance, the moist soil indicated it was indeed watered while I was away. Curious but not worried, I determined I would have to investigate the problem when I had a some time.<br />
<br />
I spent the next few minutes saying hello to the dog and talking to my folks. But before I joined them in their remodeling work (working on trim around my doors and windows), I called to let my neighbor know I was home and would bring over his "payment" (banana bread) in a few days.<br />
<br />
That is when he laughed... <i>laughed</i>... that he had done nothing while I was gone. He had not watered my plants even one time. He claimed that my parents had done all my plant watering. I think my eyes bugged right out of their sockets in alarm. No wonder my avocado tree looked as withered as it did! Immediately, I ran to its aid with a watering can and soaked the soil.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn7qIr8wVEoSbLleEp5cLUv7IKafDiCrP0Sl-30rEShJNytHOntAm5Qy1hqHh-tRQ7uE0lo30MvZoAhzYCCpzzO0VStZVMq2bChySoMK2JHg8fNPRKOvR2Azl92MLReHXZhtIo72aq4k/s1600/DSC03302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn7qIr8wVEoSbLleEp5cLUv7IKafDiCrP0Sl-30rEShJNytHOntAm5Qy1hqHh-tRQ7uE0lo30MvZoAhzYCCpzzO0VStZVMq2bChySoMK2JHg8fNPRKOvR2Azl92MLReHXZhtIo72aq4k/s320/DSC03302.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
It was not my best idea of all time. Over the course of the next few days, every single leaf fell off the tree. Without realizing it, In my desperation, I had given my tree too much water. However, the real pity is that I did not realize my mistake. Why? Because the tree did sprout a few new leaves after the roots dried out a bit and I was so anxious to help it return to its former glory that I over watered it <i>again</i>.<br />
<br />
When the new leaves started to turn brown and fall off before even growing to full size, I did not know what the problem was. If I had know, I would have drained off the water in the pot's reservoir. But, instead, I just watched them turn brown. The new leaves fell away and I looked up the problem online. In my anxiety to rescue my tree from thirsting to death, I almost cost its life by drowning it!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWOU_nKzRlLwY8dsK8wzVW8PlCfurumxaVbwaoLvE2D3l_CQAWoOwTwXQ7hkV_YUj9oOaEzYGXtW5uv6tS3b1VnfKDSZAadlbw_wJwIiiPvJzQuzZB71GPMtfC9jgHH0iiReNfs7xo1Y/s1600/DSC03327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWOU_nKzRlLwY8dsK8wzVW8PlCfurumxaVbwaoLvE2D3l_CQAWoOwTwXQ7hkV_YUj9oOaEzYGXtW5uv6tS3b1VnfKDSZAadlbw_wJwIiiPvJzQuzZB71GPMtfC9jgHH0iiReNfs7xo1Y/s320/DSC03327.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
It has now been several weeks since my avocado tree has been without leaves. The trunk is still mostly green but I have needed to cut away quite a bit of dead wood. I now water it frequently but in only small amounts at any one time, and I have fed it a little bit of miracle grow once a month. But it is not looking too good and I wonder if my prize will survive.<br />
<br />
I think it might perk up when it is warm enough that I can put it outside again, if it lasts that long. Recently, temperatures by me have been in the 30's and 40's. Here's hoping my avocado tree survives until daytime temperatures are in the 60's, and that it begins new growth when I start putting it outside during the days.<br />
<br />
If there is anybody out there who knows about avocado plants and has a suggestion of what else I might do to save my prize plant, please do mention it in the comments section below. I need all the advice I can get. (Thanks in advance.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-75522231461149193242016-02-29T09:30:00.000-06:002016-03-11T23:21:40.453-06:004 Ways Smart Vacationers Save Money on Travel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>1. Drive instead of fly.</b></span></span> This is true for long distances if two or more people are traveling together, if time is not a consideration, if you have multiple stops along your route and/or if you need transportation while you are at your destination. So, if you and your spouse are taking the kids to Disney World on a budget, go ahead and stay in a Disney hotel because it really is worth it. But driving might save a lot on your transportation costs. <br />
<br />
Let's run a scenario. You, your spouse and two kids are flying to Disney (Orlando, FL) from Chicago.<br />
<a name='more'></a> You got a great deal on your round trip airfare (meaning a whole bunch of other people did, too) of $150 per person. Wow! You are really cutting costs. Total cost of airfare is $600 (plus parking, if you park at the airport).<br />
<br />
The distance from Chicago to Orlando is 1224 miles and your car gets 25 miles per gallon. Gas costs what it does right now. $104 in gas each way = $208 round trip. It is a 2-day drive with an overnight stop in the middle. That hotel costs $80. (2 nights at $80 = $160 + $208 for gasoline = $368.) You just saved $232 IF you packed your meals.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Note how the math works.</b> If five people are traveling on the same trip, the savings is greater. But if three people are going on the trip, they spend about the same no matter which they do. If two people or one person is traveling, they may save money by taking a flight instead.<br />
<br />
<b>Subsidiary Note:</b> Staying on interstate highways increases the gas mileage in most cars. It also saves time and stress by reducing traffic (except during rush hour in major metropolitan areas) and gas/time spent idling at traffic lights.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>2. Pack your lunch</b></span></span> -- <i>This is the best penny-pinching trick of all time.</i> I love it because it not only saves money, it saves valuable time. Let's say the average, cheap fast food meal on the road costs $6. How much does it cost to make a sandwich at home? Add a piece of fruit per person (less than $1 each) and a whole bag of chips ($3.50?) for everyone to share and we are still talking about a tidy savings. But the best part is that you can eat at a rest area instead of having to get off the road to find a restaurant and then stand in line or wait for a server.<br />
<br />
On my recent road trip from Wisconsin through Texas and Louisiana, I packed a lunch between Wisconsin and my daughter's university, then from there to Memphis. We could not pack our lunch between the hotel and Debbie's place, and ate at Taco Cabana (yay) on the next two legs of our journey. But we again packed sandwiches to get back to my daughter's school and I packed food to get back into Wisconsin to my sister's place. At an average savings of, say, $5 per meal (a very low guess) times 6 meals, that was a $30 savings! (Plus, it saved my poor waistline at least a little.)<br />
<br />
Of course, if you know you will be driving past a Taco Cabana like we did, you might want to plan to stop... unless it is that one messy Taco Cabana one the east side of Houston with the virtually empty salsa bar and no toilet paper. Stopping there was a big disappointment when we drove through Houston last January. (Next time, if there is a next time, I will stop on the <i>west </i>side of Houston!) But remember how nice the one in Waco was. <i>Ahh...</i> memories. (Let's go back!)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>3. Get an oil change before you go</b></span></span>.
I always, always get an oil change before I go on a long drive. Why?
Because it increases my gas mileage. New oil and correctly inflated
tires make a big difference when it comes to gas mileage. My dad (the
scientist) goes one step farther by always giving his car a good wash
before traveling a great distance. He insists that dirt causes wind
resistance and reducing wind resistance increases gas mileage.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>4. Stay with friends and family.</b></span></span> This one trick saves a mint on hotel accommodations. Of course, it does not work if you have no friends or family to stay with. What I try to do is plan the route for my driving trips so that I will pass by a close friend or family member along the way. Most people seem to be okay with letting you camp out on a sofa for a night if you are passing through, as long as you spend some time visiting with them.<br />
<br />
On my recent month-long trip, I stayed in a hotel only one night because I stayed with friends and family for the other 27. I think it cost me about $80. If $80 per night is the average, I saved <i>over <b>$2100</b></i> (that I did not have) by spending time with people I know. Talk about a win-win!<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63fGsbNYnE6T1Ejy2xeOgxZKfpI6dtacz2RoVZm33-MWk1j8wYDxncdEDLkwWlzDrdbcMRMF6GFhhyphenhyphenR7aIGz1V6CyjDUT9t3zHKoqIYzU2DC1dfiVtFM2DQAQoOJMaTvQptEKShUqW7U/s1600/DSC03258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63fGsbNYnE6T1Ejy2xeOgxZKfpI6dtacz2RoVZm33-MWk1j8wYDxncdEDLkwWlzDrdbcMRMF6GFhhyphenhyphenR7aIGz1V6CyjDUT9t3zHKoqIYzU2DC1dfiVtFM2DQAQoOJMaTvQptEKShUqW7U/s320/DSC03258.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">$1.59 per gallon!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">P. S. </span></span>A <b>fifth trick</b> that makes travelers feel quite clever but does really not save much is to use loyalty cards to <b>save cents on gas</b>. I generally avoid this one because I don't want to sign up for a million different programs, but it could be somewhat useful to devout penny-pinchers driving very long distances.<br />
<br />
Here is some simple math to show the potential benefit. Now, I just drove about 3000 miles for my recent round-trip and my little car gets about 30 mpg . But let's say your round-trip is going to be 1000 miles and your car is slightly larger than mine. We'll say it gets 25 miles to the gallon (on the highway). <b>1000 miles divided by 25 mpg = 40 gallons of gas for the 1000 mile trip</b>.<br />
<br />
If you buy gasoline at all, say, "Jack's gas" stations because it is a nationwide brand that you expect to be all along your route, and IF the Jack's gas stations you stop at have the same price for gas as the other gas stations near them, and IF your loyalty card saves 10 cents per gallon (roughly 6.25%), then you have just <b>saved a total of</b> <b>$4</b> on gasoline for your time and trouble of using only Jack's gas stations during your entire trip.<br />
<br />
My time when driving thousands of miles is more valuable to me than $4 (total). <br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">What I did instead </span></span>was get a "Rewards" credit card. </b>This way, I can buy the "cheap" gas, no matter whether it is an Exxon, a Shell, a Diamond Shamrock or whatever, and I still save 5% (thus recapturing most of my potential $4 savings).<br />
<br />
<b>BONUS </b>-- I also get savings on some of the meals I eat out while traveling. (But I still pack my lunches for the road when I can -- unless I know I will be passing a <a href="http://www.tacocabana.com/" target="_blank">Taco Cabana</a>, in which case I plan to stop for lunch.)</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-43155519101810291232016-02-25T09:30:00.000-06:002016-03-11T23:22:30.060-06:00Surprise!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few weeks before I was to depart on my Texcursion, my mom asked me to locate a general contractor near my home and get an estimate for him to install a new shower stall in my bathroom. I knew she and Dad would be coming while I was gone to install baseboards for me but said she had wanted the new shower stall to be a surprise Christmas gift for my return from my trip. She was having a lot of trouble finding a contractor for my house because we live so far apart so she needed to surprise me early.<br />
<br />
So I was surprised early. I selected an affordable shower stall from my local hardware superstore, then had a local contractor give me an estimate for installation, reserved his time and hooked my<br />
<a name='more'></a> mom up with his phone number. Then I went into anticipation wonder, kind of like a kid who knows he will get a bike for his birthday but does not know what it will look like or feel like to ride. What I did know was that people would be in my house while I was gone. So I spent extra time and trouble to make sure I left it very clean.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KR9Qe6XKSG6iH-rZcO89ZtPB8hUi3qEfYDikVBoo-VYyFTlOhCJm0Ueb8TiT9C_AHM7DZmSzAe0ftYBQbMjgA0LeT362Els7Ev6VbXuW8-Ej11hOp-FC6L31Pkd5vOf7zlljkunPXKA/s1600/DSC03265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KR9Qe6XKSG6iH-rZcO89ZtPB8hUi3qEfYDikVBoo-VYyFTlOhCJm0Ueb8TiT9C_AHM7DZmSzAe0ftYBQbMjgA0LeT362Els7Ev6VbXuW8-Ej11hOp-FC6L31Pkd5vOf7zlljkunPXKA/s320/DSC03265.JPG" width="320" /></a>I remember being at my son's house when Mom told me I would need to take the construction debris to the dump for myself. But I do not remember where I was when she told me that she and Dad had been to my house <i>twice </i>while I was gone and might not be able to get back for a <i>third visit </i>until the weekend I was due to arrive home.<br />
<br />
A little confused why they needed to visit my house three times, I wound up spending Friday night at my sister's house instead of at theirs. This was perfectly fine with me since I got to visit with my adorable niece and treat my sister's family to a <a href="http://www.wapaghettispizza.com/" target="_blank">+Wapaghetti's pizza</a> that I picked up on my way through Chicago. (It was a take and bake pizza. I got another to share with my parents when I got back to my place.) Granted, this is not the best pizza in Chi-town. But a little, old Italian man named Joe still owns the place, it is the pizza I grew up with and it reminds me of "home."<br />
<br />
In fact, I told the cashier that I was stopping through on my way from Texas to Milwaukee to bring a couple of pizzas from home with me and he offered me a free slice! That was really nice of him (and oh, so Italian.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk23Jk-YRJ_8SSFkhYoADgbHc0W7TOgfHP-f4z5BwNd0xI4QwOHAtQBy3uRnoryWBoV-Us9bLCPFOycRnYNHfml2dGyg33htYzIJPf_1BCwuJpgCo2GeZlJ85DEvfMyE_VLRcUQLPOMbA/s1600/DSC03307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk23Jk-YRJ_8SSFkhYoADgbHc0W7TOgfHP-f4z5BwNd0xI4QwOHAtQBy3uRnoryWBoV-Us9bLCPFOycRnYNHfml2dGyg33htYzIJPf_1BCwuJpgCo2GeZlJ85DEvfMyE_VLRcUQLPOMbA/s320/DSC03307.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
But I digress. I was talking about my surprise. Yes, it was a surprise. There was several inches of snow in my yard when I got there and my mom had graciously shoveled a narrow path through it for me to park my car. (As evidenced by the photo, I broadened this drive path the next day.) I walked inside to find my dog very happy to see me (the best part of any trip). The interior of my house was covered in saw dust, tools were scattered everywhere, my kitchen table was unusable for dining and many of my things were either rearranged or in boxes.<br />
<br />
But my bathroom is beautiful.<br />
<br />
It seems that under my old shower there was more than just a little rot. The old shower was not sitting on tiles. It rested on subflooring. This I knew. What ai did not know is there was rot on the subflooring. So the contractors needed to pull up some tiles until they got to a spot where the subfloor was good before they could replace the rotten stuff. Mom told me they started pulling up tiles and could not find good subfloor till the other side of my toilet (in the opposite corner from my shower). Because the contractors had to pull out the toilet, anyway, and it did not flush very well, Mom and Dad bought me a new toilet. The flooring (and subflooring) needed to be replaced, so they did that. While they were doing that, they leveled out my vanity. In addition, they bought a slightly larger shower than I had chosen because, for some reason, the (cheap) one I chose did not fit quite right.<br />
<br />
In essence, I have a brand new bathroom instead of just a new shower and my parents, who gave it to me wound up spending much more than they anticipated. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JixH0Wd3nMPnqNQ-skwWlCjYdWxxzkUtBLERW0YUM_dqFpPosExyCKBOh5vi_BBNVZIxtU8z9lUl8Ah-_Awuwv_4vlA7Pn1dGYIXJcEJLiOVAbNcjeswQlerFK_MCqjzQinQyXMnbfo/s1600/DSC03280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JixH0Wd3nMPnqNQ-skwWlCjYdWxxzkUtBLERW0YUM_dqFpPosExyCKBOh5vi_BBNVZIxtU8z9lUl8Ah-_Awuwv_4vlA7Pn1dGYIXJcEJLiOVAbNcjeswQlerFK_MCqjzQinQyXMnbfo/s320/DSC03280.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Over the next two days, my parents helped me to put moulding around my windows and doors. Dad even used his router to bevel the edges of some new window sills for my kitchen windows.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsV0qpGqF8pl2IVVcoeISVvcta7yKGB2d2Z7QTLAjH5XCu6lWAr6I0p_EUqSJiwBe8Tg2osnhaXDosWdJSYw0nKE2ID31vifgWddhaypVVjXAszwqkbpBbv_5z5kOdpbUFwceZ2BclIvA/s1600/DSC03278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsV0qpGqF8pl2IVVcoeISVvcta7yKGB2d2Z7QTLAjH5XCu6lWAr6I0p_EUqSJiwBe8Tg2osnhaXDosWdJSYw0nKE2ID31vifgWddhaypVVjXAszwqkbpBbv_5z5kOdpbUFwceZ2BclIvA/s320/DSC03278.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Aren't they pretty? <br />
<br />
After the sills and moulding were done, Mom helped me put plastic over my windows to help keep out the cold and hung curtain rods over two doorways that still need doors.<br />
<br />
<br />
My parents left my house on Tuesday morning. A layer of sawdust covered every inch of space on my main level but, after a month of constant motion,
there was finally time for me to just stop and rest... and that is exactly what I did. </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-5482787724352291492016-02-22T09:30:00.000-06:002016-03-11T23:23:14.819-06:00Princesses for a Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I grew up visiting New Orleans. My grandparents' house was in uptown and we visited them about once a year, usually for about a week in the heat of August. When we visited, Dad always took us down to Jackson Square and usually also to <a href="http://cafedumonde.com/" target="_blank">+Cafe du Monde</a>.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEOxls3fSKhrfHsTGN-MXOxxvAfAHBrvfWHgKts768rnpLsYsUChZi7ufq2Ti0ZMrQpeDb80iuKJu0uMw3zjPJwYmk15dFwhp7tpNigebYFU_smfzoM6Sn1-FIlVhouMNW_PG4x1Kkqo/s1600/DSC03261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEOxls3fSKhrfHsTGN-MXOxxvAfAHBrvfWHgKts768rnpLsYsUChZi7ufq2Ti0ZMrQpeDb80iuKJu0uMw3zjPJwYmk15dFwhp7tpNigebYFU_smfzoM6Sn1-FIlVhouMNW_PG4x1Kkqo/s200/DSC03261.JPG" width="200" /></a>This was the only time during the year that I got to see my dad's family and I wished our visit could last all year long. Then Grandma and Grandpa sold their house in uptown New Orleans and moved to Kenner. I was a senior in college that year. I know because the house was sold in summer and my parents went down to see it one last time. I could have gone with them, but that was the year that I took summer classes. So I could not say goodbye. Now, as an adult, when I find myself in New Orleans, I always wind up driving down Napoleon Avenue to look at grandma's old house and <br />
<a name='more'></a>I make sure to visit Cafe du Monde at least once while I am in town.<br />
<br />
Because of the expense, I have not been to New Orleans since just after Hurricane Katrina and I knew that driving down to south-east Austin this year would financially wipe me out for several years to come. So, before I left on my long journey, I emailed bot of my uncles who still live in the New Orleans suburbs to see if Anne and I could stop by for a day. It took a while to get a response, but one of them did respond. It was my uncle the doctor, the one who is briefly mentioned in <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/578575" target="_blank">Memory of Miracles</a>.<br />
<br />
I had no idea what a treat I was in for. <br />
<br />
I kind of planned to drive past the old house on our way to my uncle's place, visit with his family for the afternoon and then continue on our journey in the morning. But I miscalculated the time it would take for our drive and Anne and I arrived in Covington (the New Orleans suburb) at dinner time. There was barely enough time to visit, much less drive into the city. We drove straight to my uncle's house.<br />
<br />
I think it was my first time ever driving into a gated community -- something I always kind of rolled my eyes at. I mean, really. Why pay annual dues to go through a gate when you drive home? But I have to admit, I now know why the community is gated: Woods and wildlife, private golf course, private community center, every home a mansion, affluent neighbors who know all the neighborhood goings-on, the feeling of security in knowing only residents and their guests will be in the community, and I am reasonably sure there is river access somewhere in there. I am hooked. I want to live in a gated community when I grow up... in Italy or the Caribbean.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ED7tYGpo6c4GOkR-7gZ68x7KaaJJY-43LWcioAnrucQiQvPy95vNiX05jz5XTkOGnXrUHMwt7pf2RaFN2A7tH_Ccdr3kIdS0P046zWxmMk-ZcuzYg9hv5XvcQ8mATrFy7n1D7hNyOq8/s1600/DSC03259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ED7tYGpo6c4GOkR-7gZ68x7KaaJJY-43LWcioAnrucQiQvPy95vNiX05jz5XTkOGnXrUHMwt7pf2RaFN2A7tH_Ccdr3kIdS0P046zWxmMk-ZcuzYg9hv5XvcQ8mATrFy7n1D7hNyOq8/s200/DSC03259.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
Both of my uncles, their wives and 3 of my cousins were waiting for us when we arrived. They took us to a little seafood place and the uncle with whom we were staying picked up Anne's and my tab. Somewhere in here, I asked if we could stay a second night. Of course, that was fine. Then one uncle and aunt went home and my cousin the college student went back to his dormitory -- but not before I snapped his photo with Anne. <b>(Note to future boyfriends and spouse: This is my daughter's large, Italian cousin.)</b><br />
<br />
The next morning, my uncle was off to work and we could have driven into New Orleans. I really wanted Cafe du Monde while I was so close, but I did NOT feel like driving an hour to get it. I was sooo tired of driving and "tomorrow" I anticipated driving 600 miles more. Luckily, Donna (my uncle's wife) offered to drive for us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLYTxF5bQzNHKLkmHWiWcfkzT3mdjTOXhyxUcT1fPwFE6I99DwrJLIpFtuJgDod1aJ71GWuQ_kSvz-5PGGj6wsYBymCZx2-gDbtUUMgwGjtFF2emsQAO8YlWlg4K72B0csB9IKZRwfCM/s1600/DSC03263.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLYTxF5bQzNHKLkmHWiWcfkzT3mdjTOXhyxUcT1fPwFE6I99DwrJLIpFtuJgDod1aJ71GWuQ_kSvz-5PGGj6wsYBymCZx2-gDbtUUMgwGjtFF2emsQAO8YlWlg4K72B0csB9IKZRwfCM/s200/DSC03263.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
Little did I know that Cafe du Monde is not just downtown. They have a Covington location! So Anne and I got Cafe du Monde <i>with family</i> and without my having to drive an hour through city traffic. How perfect. Afterwards, we spent a near idyllic day in the warm weather of New Orleans putzing around town and running errands with family. I found the whole day comfortable and relaxing.<br />
<br />
That night, my family gathered again for dinner. This time, we stayed in at "the mansion" and my uncle grilled some of the best steak I think I have ever eaten. It was really nice to get together with my dad's family in New Orleans (suburbs) again after so long. I wish our visit could have lasted all year.<br />
<br />
Alas, we were only princesses for a day. "Tomorrow" was a new day and we would have to leave on our long drive back to the cold north.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-60774300267983568862016-02-18T09:30:00.000-06:002016-03-11T23:23:48.159-06:00Toilet Paper<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On the morning of Sunday, January 3, Anne and I woke up and got our things in the car. I don't know about her, but I was very sad to leave central Texas. But at least we were not yet leaving the warm weather. No, we drove south about an hour and then east on I-10 toward my uncle's house in the suburbs of New Orleans.<br />
<br />
<b>Interesting fact.</b> Look at a road map of the United States. I-10 stretches from the west coast, through Houston and New Orleans, all the way to the east coast. (I-95 on the east coast does the same thing from north to south. It goes from Connecticut all the way down to Miami, Florida.)<br />
<br />
The drive to Houston was about two hours, so we left at around 8:30. This would be our last chance<br />
<a name='more'></a> for a long time to get a <a href="http://www.tacocabana.com/" target="_blank">+Taco Cabana</a> fix, so we didn't want to pass the last location before lunch. As it turned out, the last location we would pass was on the east side of Houston (at 13455 Ih-10 East Freeway, Houston, TX 77015) and we were there just at 11 o'clock. We stopped the car and entered the restaurant with mixed anticipation and sorrow. <br />
<br />
The line was short, but it took forever to get through it. I think the cashier was new. I thought it was strange to have a new cashier at the register on a holiday weekend (or on a weekend at all), but I could see four other workers there, so maybe she was being supervised from a distance. I don't know.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, Anne and I were experienced with the menu from our two weeks in the Austin area. We did not dilly dally with our orders. We knew just what we wanted and the words to use to make our order simple for the cashier. In reality, it only took a few minutes to get through the line. Then, number in hand, I found an almost clean table and went for salsa while Anne headed to the restroom.<br />
<br />
I must be meant to stay in central Texas because there was some serious <b><a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=bad%20juju" target="_blank">bad juju</a></b> going on during our trip across the Texas-Louisiana line. You know now that I enjoy writing positive reviews about places I like and I really like Taco Cabana. But I was very unhappy with my Taco Cabana experience on January 3. I have never seen a Taco Cabana in such disarray as this one was... and at 11:00 on a Sunday morning. First, as I already mentioned, most of the tables were dirty. I had to scout around for one that did not look too bad. Also, the floor badly needed to be swept. I know that is supposed to be done before close at night but at 11 am there were napkins and trash scattered around the floor.<br />
<br />
Then, remember the picture of the salsa bar in Waco? Nice, right? That is because we were there early in the day and the "FRESH salsa bar" is stocked anew, first thing in the morning. Not so with this one in Houston. The salsa crocks were virtually EMPTY except for the vestiges of salsa on their sides and in the inside bottom rims. I managed to scrape up just enough to mostly fill one of their tiny plastic salsa cups so that I could dip my taquitos into it, but I would have liked a little more for my chips.<br />
<br />
Then Anne came back from the restroom and told me that both stalls were out of paper when she got there. Another woman got the cashier to fetch some more toilet paper and Anne got the benefit of her request. But after using it she discovered that there was neither soap nor paper towels! (When I heard this, I was very glad I decided to eat <i>before </i>using the facilities.)<br />
<br />
It was about this time that I looked into the kitchen to count the number of workers and see how many cars were in the drive through lane. All four of the kitchen workers I counted were gabbing and laughing. The cashier was the only one who looked to be working and she was moving pretty slowly. In the 45 minutes we were there, she got the napkins off the floor and the tables cleaned. I am not sure about the salsa bar because I finished eating before she got to it, and the bathroom was still out of soap and paper towels when I used it after my meal. (The garbage can was also overflowing with... yes... paper towels.)<br />
<br />
Many years ago, I used to cashier at Taco Bell. At the time, my restaurant was the only fast food Mexican place in an area with a lot of hungry, Mexican, construction workers. I easily did $500 to $1000 (cash) per weekday lunch shift and <i>if my restaurant had ever been as chaotic</i> as this Taco Cabana in Houston was at 11 o'clock on a Sunday morning, I would have felt utterly humiliated -- and that is what I have to say about our experience at the Taco Cabana. I am embarrassed for the management of this location. So embarrassed, in fact, that I did not take a photo for this blog. It was just that bad.<br />
<br />
Leaving Taco Cabana behind us, we continued on the road to the Texas-Louisiana state line. There we found more <b>bad juju</b>. (I am telling you, central Texas wanted me to stay!)<br />
<br />
I like to stop at the welcome center when I cross a State line. It is somewhat of a habit (although I do not stop when entering Wisconsin because I am so familiar with the Wisconsin entry points that I have other places I like to stop). It is a nice break from driving and a sure restroom stop. Welcome centers usually have decent bathroom facilities in addition to a stack of free State maps. Some welcome centers, like the ones going into Texas and Illinois, also have brochures for things to do, a dog walk and a play area for children.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Q9F77XQcNI1CkQrCyaiaaQU3-YYnkqp_b10xprG7bmEQPkyCi8HK3wQG52RwkS9yVqXlCoBhCwPeP5-mcEpZVEpDOqQ-mgwE9_9JroRjnurNYCbzXKEUFIF4yj-hhVK_dugE_67R-9c/s1600/DSC03257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Q9F77XQcNI1CkQrCyaiaaQU3-YYnkqp_b10xprG7bmEQPkyCi8HK3wQG52RwkS9yVqXlCoBhCwPeP5-mcEpZVEpDOqQ-mgwE9_9JroRjnurNYCbzXKEUFIF4yj-hhVK_dugE_67R-9c/s320/DSC03257.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Charles Welcome Center?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Entering Louisiana, there was a sign that said "Welcome center at exit" some number. It was a few miles down the road, but we decided we could wait a few more minutes for the bathroom and a break from driving. When we got to the appropriate exit number, we got off the highway with confidence. After all, the sign had said the welcome center would be there. Well, there was something there but it was not a welcome center. At least, I think it was not the welcome center. On the shores of beautiful Lake Charles there is a somewhat smelly, outdoor, public toilet with... you guessed it... NO TOILET PAPER. I'm telling you. It was just a bad juju sort of day.<br />
<br />
(Needless to say, we drove on to the nearest truck stop. I think it was a <a href="http://www.loves.com/" target="_blank">+Love's</a>. Those are always nice stops.)</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-81710725073186304342016-02-15T15:18:00.001-06:002016-03-11T23:24:25.835-06:00Local Helicopter Crash!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Apologies for this interruption to my Christmas travel story line.<br />
<br />
On Sunday night, I was tuned in to my local HAM radio net (I almost always listen to it but I seldom participate) when I heard mention of a helicopter crash. From the way the club member and moderator spoke, it sounded like the crash was local. But after another person's comments on the net, I was uncertain if it was local or in Chicago. So I waited till after the net, then called my mom. She is our family's news buff.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xlp1/l/t31.0-8/12711230_10208751146274859_2678116776032357968_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://scontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xlp1/l/t31.0-8/12711230_10208751146274859_2678116776032357968_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">picture on Facebook</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Surprisingly, Mom had not watched the news all weekend long. She had no information to share with me. So I did a quick online search. Of course, I did not know where the crash took place so that did not help me find any information. (It is out there with the correct keywords, though.) Not finding any details, I figured it was more trouble to look for the information than the information was worth and I gave up looking for it.<br />
<br />
Then this morning, I saw this picture on Facebook from a local contact. From this, I derived that the crash was indeed a local accident. <br />
<a name='more'></a>Today, at lunch, I inquired of the "man in the know" -- manager Mike. (He talks to all the patrons at the restaurant he manages, so he hears all the good news.) From what he told me, I was able to pull up one news <a href="http://www.kttc.com/story/31210345/2016/02/12/helicopter-crashes-on-menominee-street" target="_blank">article</a>. Thankfully, <a href="http://www.kttc.com/" target="_blank">+KTTC</a>, NBC news in Green Bay, Wisconsin, wrote 70 words about the story.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://wxow.images.worldnow.com/images/9871001_G.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://wxow.images.worldnow.com/images/9871001_G.png" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">picture from KTTC (NBC news)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
About two miles from my house, just on the Michigan side of the State line, there is a helicopter manufacturer named <a href="http://enstromhelicopter.com/" target="_blank">+Enstrom</a>. Enstrom has a new helicopter design in development called the <a href="http://enstromhelicopter.com/helicopters/th180-trainer-2/" target="_blank">TH 180 trainer</a> that seems to have been being tested on February 12. At a little before noon, something happened that caused the pilot of the craft to crash land. He did so with <b>amazing skill</b>, avoiding homes, vehicles and people on the city street where he put the chopper down. (I an quite impressed.) From the very short news report I read, the un-named pilot suffered only minor injuries from the crash and was able to walk to an ambulance which, I assume, took him to the local hospital for evaluation. The helicopter... well... from what it looks like in the pictures, its injuries were more substantial.<br />
<br />
So, for all my local (to me) readers, that is the breaking news on the helicopter crash that happened last Friday and I somehow missed until last night... even though it happened only about 2 miles from my house. (It is a really good thing I write fiction stories instead of news stories. LOL)</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-17145572914533790392016-02-15T09:30:00.000-06:002016-03-11T23:24:55.523-06:00Last Night in Austin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT21NqesDf3rfp-E50YY3_yV-lF0pjADpdL5CmKS8O7F6uAEEWcowu9OlVDOJhndfR_Qqxg6xVP4GHtcdRtyeWRYl1CFv5si3D6vzfrUinhuMlFf43JmfXEsKshTskv_njpzIlVvFW05I/s1600/DSC03248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT21NqesDf3rfp-E50YY3_yV-lF0pjADpdL5CmKS8O7F6uAEEWcowu9OlVDOJhndfR_Qqxg6xVP4GHtcdRtyeWRYl1CFv5si3D6vzfrUinhuMlFf43JmfXEsKshTskv_njpzIlVvFW05I/s320/DSC03248.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
On our last night in Central Texas, my son took us out for dinner again. He told me intention the night before that, but he made a mystery of it by telling me that he had invited a friend to come with us. He would not tell me the friend's name. Just that I had never met her. He added to the mystery by announcing that he did not know where we would be eating dinner because his friend would be choosing the restaurant. Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued.<br />
<br />
Late in the afternoon of our last day there, I heard the muffled sound of my son speaking to someone on the phone in his bedroom. After a while, he came out and asked, "Mom, wasn't <br />
<a name='more'></a>there some Italian place in Austin where you said you missed eating? What was the name of that place?"<br />
<br />
The name of the place is <a href="https://www.carrabbas.com/" target="_blank">+Carrabbas</a>. I really love the fresh bread with herbed dipping oil that they bring to every table. (Their tiramisu is also really good -- much better than Olive Garden's.) I do not know how authentic it is because I have never been to Italy (Florence is on my bucket list), but it is what I imagine authentic might be.<br />
<br />
I had pretty much decided to skip Carrabbas in favor of the local Mexican food. But my son remembered a late-night conversation we'd had while he was driving "Over the Road" where I had mentioned missing Carrabbas, and he chose to veto his friend's selection in favor of taking me to someplace I missed.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, there was no Carrabbas between his friend and us. So we went to <a href="http://www.carinos.com/" target="_blank">+Johnny Carino's</a>, instead. It was a good selection and would have been my second choice if I'd had the option. It was about a 45 minute drive along back roads to get there but we met at a middle point between my son's place and his friend's.<br />
<br />
A few minutes after we arrived, a slim young woman with chestnut hair entered the restaurant and came to sit at our table. We exchanged pleasantries and I asked a bit about her. Then, because my son had given me leave in the car to tell as many stories about him as I wanted, I launched into story.<br />
<br />
I have lots of good stories about my son and I think the young woman enjoyed them. As the evening progressed, both Anne and I noticed that my son called this young lady "honey." He also wrapped his arm around her shoulders a few times and paid for her meal. After we were on our way home again, Anne tried to call him out on their relationship. But I deflected for him and said, "He does that to all the girls." He quickly agreed and the subject was dropped.<br />
<br />
Ah, Austin. Our visit came to a close far too soon. (On the other hand, I am pretty sure I put on about ten pounds in our short visit. So maybe it is a good thing we did not stay longer.) While we were there, we got to visit with a few old friends (I did not write about these interactions), eat lots of yummy food, enjoy the weather, meet a neighbor, go sightseeing and visit our old home. We cut costs on accommodations by staying with friends and family but my credit card still took a big hit.<br />
<br />
Believe it or not, my favorite part of being close to Austin was not the
delicious Tex-Mex or even the barbecue. Though, I will say, I did love
those. Nor was it the weather. (Oh! How I miss the mild winter weather!) Of everything, my old friends who visited with me, meeting with my son's friends, the friendliness of complete strangers and, most of all, daily morning chats with my grown-up little boy were my very favorite part of this early winter holiday.<br />
<br />
~~~ Side Note for those who plan to visit the Austin area ~~~<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidL52VgpIA9TaGIl-XkdDlnVIjYhegoqvHK9E4Sc8DVTRLdv07AFiBsR-ijXZiJikCOiD0yfuJ_kRZYkC7_mIOH9VoPUL_9IqbuYvT28K1ydwVP5qeT9AQSMegrKmnSwdFj9OXTlfGM3I/s1600/DSC03238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidL52VgpIA9TaGIl-XkdDlnVIjYhegoqvHK9E4Sc8DVTRLdv07AFiBsR-ijXZiJikCOiD0yfuJ_kRZYkC7_mIOH9VoPUL_9IqbuYvT28K1ydwVP5qeT9AQSMegrKmnSwdFj9OXTlfGM3I/s320/DSC03238.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tortilla soup from +Serrano's Mexican Restaurant in Austin. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One restaurant I did not mention but we made a special point to visit while we were in town is <a href="http://www.serranos.com/" target="_blank">+Serrano's Tex-Mex Mexican Restaurant</a>. It is one of the better places to eat in the North Austin area. The flavor of the salsa is good, the portions are good sized and the menu prices are reasonable. I particularly enjoy their tortilla soup. In the old days of 2007, when I was last there, they used to put a short corn cob in the soup as well as a slice of avocado. The corn was not in my soup this time. I don't know if the policy has changed or if it was just the server's oversight. Still, the soup was very tasty and chock full of vegetables, cheese and tortilla strips. If you plan to visit North Austin, this is a really good place to eat. We went to the Lakeline Mall location. It is not in the mall but on a street just outside the mall parking lot.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-58527244544086386772016-02-12T09:30:00.000-06:002016-03-11T23:26:12.503-06:00Meeting the Neighbor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I mentioned, a few posts ago, that my son was ill the day Anne and I arrived at his house. What happened is that he was nervous about the condition of his house because he had just moved in a few months earlier. So he had a friend come to help him unpack a bunch of stuff and straighten up a bit. My son works nights, so I imagine he took a nap before picking his friend up but I am not certain. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
All I know is that the day we arrived was the first day of his weekend and he took his friend to the McDonald's in Bastrop, TX when he drove her home. He had a sausage biscuit that he said did not </div>
<a name='more'></a>taste quite right but he ate it anyway because he was hungry and he did not want to take the time to complain. After that, it was only a matter of a short time before his stomach and intestines began to revolt. By the time Anne and I got to his door, as I mentioned in my earlier post, he was bedridden and feeling awful.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I went to the local Walmart and bought a thermometer and some medicine. Then I came back to play doctor. My boy's fever was 101 (F). Good news is that he was happy to have his mommy there to take care of him and he was almost well by the end of his "weekend." The bad news, though, is that we did not get to spend the weekend together, we missed seeing one of his two best friends, the cupboards were bare and the house was put away but not quite tidy when we got there. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Fortunately for my son, I am an expert at hand washing dishes, cleaning bathrooms, washing laundry, grocery shopping and taking care of sick children (even 30 year-old children). I was glad for something to do while he slept and Anne played RPG's online with her friends. (I remember when I was young that I needed to leave my friends behind while I went on vacation with my family. Not so in the age of Wifi and RPG's.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
On the first full day we were there, my son was sick in bed and Anne slept till about noon. But I was up around the same time I usually am -- somewhere between 6:30 and 7:30 am. So I drove to the laundromat, and the grocery. I went to the post office, the garbage collection agency's office and so on. I got back to the house before lunch. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw5_QX5HX33wBIRWgo-S6G1PjkOKDHEikoxmwMwjRw9ZpWDmpE9dxqVVWqTk8bYfUjX-_uAKfMxbJ8KNrZxow' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>It was nice and warm outside and the scenery in the subdivision is idyllic. (See the video clip.) It is peaceful and serene and beautiful, and there is NO SNOW. My car window was down so that I could enjoy the weather and the clean air. So I smelled the smoke. It was the familiar smell of burning brush and it occurred to me that either someone was burning yard waste or there was a forest fire somewhere nearby. I was right. Someone was burning yard waste and I found out who as I drove up to my son's house. It was his neighbor across the street. </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br />
Alright. I am friendly. Anybody who knows me knows that I pretty much cannot control it. It is just who I am and it spills out onto everybody who has the misfortune of existing in a space near mine. So when I saw one of my son's two neighbors burning a big pile of brush in his back yard, I parked my car and walked over to meet him. </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I now know all about my son's neighbor. I know his name, number of children, home State, where his wife is from, roughly how long they have been married, his ex-Army unit and MOS (occupation code), his current occupation, how big his yard is, etc. I was quite proud of myself for having met this man before my son, himself, had and I wanted to introduce them to help them become friends. So I mentioned the interaction to my son when he woke up. He must really have been sick because he did not pay attention to me. He just sort of shrugged and said uh huh. From that, I determined to wait until he was feeling better before I made the introductions.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The next day, Jerome (the neighbor) was outside in the beautiful Texas weather again. It was somewhere in the 70's or low 80's. Again, I was just driving back into the subdivision, so I parked and walked over to say hi. We talked a little about barbecues and then I went inside. When my son awoke, I told him again about the neighbor. This time his ears perked up right away. With considerable alarm, he asked me to please stop talking to his neighbors. Reminding me that he sleeps during the day and does not want his sleep interrupted by friendly visitors after I left.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Gee, I did not even tell my son that the neighbor offered to come over to take a look at his broken washing machine. I did not have to. Even after more than 8 years of living so far apart, he still knows me just that well. </div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-64463266692696346892016-02-10T09:30:00.000-06:002016-02-13T19:15:46.529-06:00Growing Marijuana?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I got a really strange reaction to my request for hydroponics supplies when I was in Leander during my trip.<br />
<br />
I was within about an hour's drive of "home" and I remembered the name of a "water gardens" nursery from when I lived there, <a href="http://www.hillcountrywatergardens.com/" target="_blank">+Hill Country Water Gardens</a>. (In fact, I used to be rather perturbed that there was a water garden
nursery in Central Texas, where water is very expensive during summer months.) Because I had been thinking that it would be nice to garden indoors during the long northern winters and I remembered the "water gardens" nursery near my old home, I made a point to stop in.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s.yimg.com/fz/api/res/1.2/kWYBQLbj4SZEeECvvOk_eg--/YXBwaWQ9c3JjaGRkO2g9ODAwO3E9OTU7dz04MDA-/http://www.repotme.com/orchid-pots/img/net-pot-275inch-tall-800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://s.yimg.com/fz/api/res/1.2/kWYBQLbj4SZEeECvvOk_eg--/YXBwaWQ9c3JjaGRkO2g9ODAwO3E9OTU7dz04MDA-/http://www.repotme.com/orchid-pots/img/net-pot-275inch-tall-800.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Perhaps it is because I do not care much about my wardrobe. I like to feel comfortable when I write, think about story lines, play
with my dog or whatever I happen to be doing by myself in my empty
house. So I wear comfortable old jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers most days. I rarely wear any make up and my hair is usually pulled back into a low pony-tail which may or may not be partially braided to keep the tie from slipping out of it <br />
<br />
Though I was traveling rather than sitting around in my house, my wardrobe remained the same. I really saw no need to invest in new clothing and makeup for a 3000 mile drive to mostly just visit friends and family. I decided to charge my credit card for dining out, instead. So, yeah, I looked like a writer for the whole trip. Okay. But that is what I am.<br />
<br />
I just walked into the garden shop and started looking around at all the stuff they had lining the walls. I knew one thing I was looking for but I had forgotten its name. (They are called "net pots.") I would have asked right away, but the girl at the counter was busy with a customer. So I just looked around while I waited for her to be done. I figured the little pots were probably around somewhere because they are an integral part of hydroponics gardening.<br />
<br />
I was wrong. (It happens every now and again, though not often.) It took a few minutes for the counter person to be free. But when she was, I approached with my question. All I needed was the net pots, but apparently, the water gardens store does not do hydroponics. I explained that I was visiting from Wisconsin and asked if she knew of any place that would carry what I needed.<br />
<br />
The girl said she knew of three places in Austin, but then she tried to talk me out of going to them. She was adamant that I should by my supplies closer to home. Every reason I gave for wanting to go to a local hydroponics store was met with an objection. There <i>must </i>be a store closer to where I live, she insisted. Her behavior really confused me. It did not make sense. All I wanted to do was buy some little pots for growing plants inside in water during winter.<br />
<br />
I did not let the girl get out of answering my question. I had her look up the addresses of the three Austin stores she said she knew worked with hydroponics, then I drove down to the nearest one, <a href="https://search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=A0LEViM1UbtWV6QAIwgPxQt.;_ylc=X1MDMjExNDcwMDU1OQRfcgMyBGZyA3locy1pcnktZnVsbHlob3N0ZWRfMDAzBGdwcmlkAzlLSGZnblUzUUhLdngwTTRlR2tMUkEEbl9yc2x0AzAEbl9zdWdnAzEEb3JpZ2luA3VzLnNlYXJjaC55YWhvby5jb20EcG9zAzAEcHFzdHIDBHBxc3RybAMEcXN0cmwDMzUEcXVlcnkDVGV4YXMgSHlkcm9wb25pY3MgJiBPcmdhbmljcyBhdXN0aW4EdF9zdG1wAzE0NTUxMTY2MTI-?p=Texas+Hydroponics+%26+Organics+austin&fr2=sb-top-us.search&hspart=iry&hsimp=yhs-fullyhosted_003&param1=1&param2=f%3D4%26b%3DFirefox%26cc%3Dus%26pa%3DWincy%26cd%3D2XzuyEtN2Y1L1QzutDtDtByC0Bzy0C0CtA0B0F0EzzyCtD0AtN0D0Tzu0StCyEyBtBtN1L2XzutAtFtCyCtFtCtFtDtN1L1Czu1TtN1L1G1B1V1N2Y1L1Qzu2SyC0FtCyDyE0D0A0CtGyE0AyCzytG0DzyzztAtGtBzytAtBtGtD0A0B0CyDyDyCyByCyB0A0E2QtN1M1F1B2Z1V1N2Y1L1Qzu2SzztB0CtBtD0D0FtBtGyByEtB0DtGyEyBtCzytGzzyByE0CtGzz0F0BtCyBtDyBtCzytDzzzz2QtN0A0LzuyE%26cr%3D2031990566%26a%3Dwbf_popjar_16_02_ssg06%26os_ver%3D10.0%26os%3DWindows%2B10%2BPro&type=wbf_popjar_16_02_ssg06" target="_blank"><complete id="goog_2040255157">+</complete>Texas Hydroponics & Organics</a>. It was along my route back to my son's house, anyway. I waited to talk to the counter person there, too. Trent was the man "in the know" and very busy with customer questions -- so busy, in fact, that at 4:00 pm he had still to take his lunch break.<br />
<br />
Trent answered my questions about the differences between hydroponics and aquaponics, then got me all set up with net pots, growing medium, fertilizer and seeds. He was very nice and did <i>not </i>try to talk me out of buying my supplies at his store. (He said that people from all over the country shop there.)<br />
<br />
Pleased with my success in finding and buying my supplies, I took my goodies back to my son's house. There, I told both of my kids about my odd experience with the clerk at the Leander water gardens shop. Anne had no reaction. (She was busy playing an online RPG.) But I waited through guffaws of laughter for my son to give me his observation.<br />
<br />
"Mom," he laughed. "She thought you were trying to grow marijuana."<br />
<br />
I'm sure I gave him a funny look because I did not understand, so he clarified for me, "People use hydroponics to grow marijuana in their homes." <br />
<br />
Suddenly, the girl's reaction made sense to me. But now I was slightly irritated that she thought I look like I use marijuana.<br />
<br />
About two weeks later, I was sitting with my parents at the counter in my favorite local pizza parlor. (They wanted to watch the football game.) I knew several of the servers that night so, thinking he would find it funny, I told my marijuana story to one of them. His response was along the lines of, "Uh huh." (He was preoccupied.)<br />
<br />
A little flustered by the response I had received, I turned to another server and announced, "X thinks I look like I grow pot in my back yard." Almost instantly, X began to defend his reaction. But then the other server asked as if it was no big deal, <i>"So?"</i><br />
<br />
Alrighty. I guess I look like I grow my own marijuana. Perhaps I do need to invest a little in my public image... But I think it can wait until I actually have a public image to invest in. My dog and my computer seem to love me just fine in my comfortable clothes and wearing no make up.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-70642729007938410632016-02-08T09:30:00.000-06:002016-02-13T19:17:07.179-06:00Mission Accomplished (Star Wars and the Alamo Drafthouse)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When Anne was a university freshman, she made friends with a couple of other students who were from Texas. She shared that she had lived in the Austin suburbs for a number of years. Somehow the conversation came around to her having never visited the <complete id="goog_2040255166">+</complete><a href="https://drafthouse.com/" target="_blank">Alamo Drafthouse</a>. She told me and I set a mental note of my new mission to take here there.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qB_W44c3QZXy7UVT28nLi-mYzsm8atydV_4E7zGjRcNo4EGnSHE65kHigXS3i8Qpu6NJ9WRS23GnzwmECStp5SJAeokAxSo5i4wGEKH2HMOdNxCIY5FQj0lTz5EPezT0Rrp5bxtIJ9A/s1600/DSC03314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qB_W44c3QZXy7UVT28nLi-mYzsm8atydV_4E7zGjRcNo4EGnSHE65kHigXS3i8Qpu6NJ9WRS23GnzwmECStp5SJAeokAxSo5i4wGEKH2HMOdNxCIY5FQj0lTz5EPezT0Rrp5bxtIJ9A/s200/DSC03314.JPG" width="200" /></a>For those who don't know, the Drafthouse has nothing to do with beer. (Although I believe beer is available on the menu.) It is a cinema. But it is pretty unique because the seating is reserved (like seating on an airplane is reserved) and waitstaff serves patrons inside the movie theaters. In fact, there is not even a concession stand in the lobby <i>and </i>alcoholic beverages are on the menu.<br />
<br />
The new <a href="http://www.starwars.com/films/star-wars-episode-vii-the-force-awakens" target="_blank">+Star Wars</a> movie came out on December 18 so Anne and I waited for her brother to be off work so we could see the movie together. That was one of our goals for the trip. He took us to the Drafthouse, thinking we would get our tickets and then go out to eat with one of his friends while we waited for the show. It was a good idea. The execution of the idea could have been better, though. We should have bought our tickets online before we left the house.<br />
<br />
As it turned out, we did get to see the movie (Mission half accomplished) and we did have dinner with one of my son's two best friends (which made me quite happy as I have not seen him or caught up on his news since 2008). We did not, however, see the movie at the Alamo Drafthouse. We went to the cinema in the "new" shopping center by our old home -- the same shopping center that my real-life super-villain claimed to have been perusing without me (in a thick fog) when he was really meeting with his extra-marital partner... but that is a different story. The point is that we went to a cinema near our old house rather than to the Drafthouse.<br />
<br />
My impression of the movie? Well, I have seen the original release of every Star Wars film so far and I am sorry to say that I was not incredibly impressed. In fact, I got up during the big light saber fight, visited the bathroom and came back without feeling I had missed anything. The movie was alright, I guess and I am glad I saw it in the cinema. But it was kind of a rehash of the original movies in a lot of ways: Han Solo taking the position of Obi Wan, Luke taking the position of Yoda, a girl as the new Luke and that black guy as the new Han. (Sorry, I don't remember the new characters' names yet.)<br />
<br />
It was nice to see the original Star Wars cast back in action, though. In fact, I really loved seeing them together. It was also kind of nice to know a little of what happened between Han and Leia, though sad to discover they did not have a lifelong marriage. I really had hope for their relationship. Ah well. At least we know they loved each other to the very end <i>and </i>neither one remarried. That is something.<br />
<br />
As for visiting the Drafthouse, Anne and I went back a couple of days later and saw a different movie. We both enjoyed the experience and now she can say she has been there. Mission complete.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0Leander, TX 78641, USA30.5390145 -97.93749479999996830.320183 -98.260218299999963 30.757846 -97.614771299999973tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-86871634158273256722016-02-05T09:30:00.000-06:002016-02-13T19:25:51.866-06:00San Antonio Riverwalk Boat Tour<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvSc8ucZwpKeVyYtEK30-S0oVmgCL7YqNCkO_AnWCt7RP50GnYc_vyYuPC-NkRIuKriKBkz_1iXjVNktoipik_9dQYFyOjt1Qajbe-baC6HBrUA-LVYzfxfn_vMOc44yPVEqwugtwVG0/s1600/DSC03175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvSc8ucZwpKeVyYtEK30-S0oVmgCL7YqNCkO_AnWCt7RP50GnYc_vyYuPC-NkRIuKriKBkz_1iXjVNktoipik_9dQYFyOjt1Qajbe-baC6HBrUA-LVYzfxfn_vMOc44yPVEqwugtwVG0/s400/DSC03175.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The San Antonio River Walk, photo by Beth Durkee</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAOkPrIhsFSkmi6z9lfBqlqY-OQ08Aa1E8rM18VZU0-lYbeCypvR5TdgTvwWJ-D2196ypVz5YW7C9GFqferOLHC13iVjCdbCK98PsSHFB7Y4I-sxQEQC-hFDIBgiTzKzY4axXiY8LNTg/s1600/DSC03177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAOkPrIhsFSkmi6z9lfBqlqY-OQ08Aa1E8rM18VZU0-lYbeCypvR5TdgTvwWJ-D2196ypVz5YW7C9GFqferOLHC13iVjCdbCK98PsSHFB7Y4I-sxQEQC-hFDIBgiTzKzY4axXiY8LNTg/s320/DSC03177.JPG" width="320" /></a>After our lunch at Casa Rio, Anne and I asked our waitress where we could buy tickets for a <a href="http://www.riosanantonio.com/" target="_blank">boat tour</a>. She told us to just walk out the side door and along the river to the right until we came to a ticket booth. We walked out of the side door, as instructed and I just had to take a picture for the blog. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCqY1aEqehaiktyjgEss9otaDtkvmCUhK6-kAOicfwA_hJyXKh0z8qXIYJ0pTxlKN0Kj1BSCfxTIwlz5vDXq1h79m91wKxIEPhE8JSHCey3QXjUi0hcdEWM6jjEZ8aij2SxoVZuGYOGl0/s1600/DSC03191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCqY1aEqehaiktyjgEss9otaDtkvmCUhK6-kAOicfwA_hJyXKh0z8qXIYJ0pTxlKN0Kj1BSCfxTIwlz5vDXq1h79m91wKxIEPhE8JSHCey3QXjUi0hcdEWM6jjEZ8aij2SxoVZuGYOGl0/s320/DSC03191.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
We walked about half a block, I guess. It is hard to judge when there
are no real street intersections. But we did have to walk under a
bridge, so I guess that counts as an intersection. Our tickets cost
$8.25 each.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_xRhe701mPpghVwm9y0H2o645y6tVRLSKR9rkPK_8wQIqKV4ynvG52Pk7tZoZ6YtWf1a9uiU3K1F6Fgy1RhWacwpzbrYfQnGchri_M4Wxm9VJ3U12g5H0JVZ0BEyybIG56SybFmUIWM/s1600/DSC03192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_xRhe701mPpghVwm9y0H2o645y6tVRLSKR9rkPK_8wQIqKV4ynvG52Pk7tZoZ6YtWf1a9uiU3K1F6Fgy1RhWacwpzbrYfQnGchri_M4Wxm9VJ3U12g5H0JVZ0BEyybIG56SybFmUIWM/s320/DSC03192.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Then we had to wait in line.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Here we are waiting in line in the beautiful, warm Christmas-time weather. (I seriously need to start selling some books so that we can make this an annual tradition!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4xwY8-O-e_omQNlS-dDyfAkyd9HANSQS-0tXQZkHNSce9yc-H7SM14CgYYuK7RF0EeqfLY0Ge9Tt23Q4l6lyZaKHsd_j4gB-5usgtk-pt5xrlfCKbkAsytWuUYPX3qFsBT-AT6oljRQ/s1600/DSC03186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4xwY8-O-e_omQNlS-dDyfAkyd9HANSQS-0tXQZkHNSce9yc-H7SM14CgYYuK7RF0EeqfLY0Ge9Tt23Q4l6lyZaKHsd_j4gB-5usgtk-pt5xrlfCKbkAsytWuUYPX3qFsBT-AT6oljRQ/s320/DSC03186.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCTeJp87IUc95FiXIuoM5JwnmBP02IPIXRIe4WPfcPWnq4R7nu7JeqQcFhlj16rx9rOPrW0TVeQriBWJ_7fYpS2iYuWWBxlNp7vjCqMMnppwy0Grtk4okGzvBXLiKGV8X9hNiyiqOHaQ/s1600/DSC03187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCTeJp87IUc95FiXIuoM5JwnmBP02IPIXRIe4WPfcPWnq4R7nu7JeqQcFhlj16rx9rOPrW0TVeQriBWJ_7fYpS2iYuWWBxlNp7vjCqMMnppwy0Grtk4okGzvBXLiKGV8X9hNiyiqOHaQ/s320/DSC03187.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Keep in mind how much we had been eating over the past week, and that the camera adds at least ten pounds!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNTzch8rciGRadinq2PYQvckriZ_bBThQOyLqT2gTU-yigWJ9nQZRFyek9D_1aCB9UvqwMiE3WDTK1EtSthf7jZdMGbJiR7BQK9HBEB0VRL3ClYdtES8sJx6q2CimUvCmjnWqPDtBQpc/s1600/DSC03185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNTzch8rciGRadinq2PYQvckriZ_bBThQOyLqT2gTU-yigWJ9nQZRFyek9D_1aCB9UvqwMiE3WDTK1EtSthf7jZdMGbJiR7BQK9HBEB0VRL3ClYdtES8sJx6q2CimUvCmjnWqPDtBQpc/s320/DSC03185.JPG" width="320" /></a>Lucky for us, there were plenty of boats and boat drivers to accommodate the Christmas-time tourists. Despite that huge, long line, the wait for the half-hour boat ride was only 25 minutes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
After an enjoyable wait in the Spring-like weather, we finally made it onto the boat for our tour. The driver filled our heads with all sorts of information that I would be hard pressed to remember. What I do remember, though, is what a lovely boat ride with my daughter it was. I am just sorry my son was too ill to accompany us. Here are a few of my photos for your enjoyment.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhPTnTKmlwJppJj5Eeav_kKx9YDh6q6r-sdZLVDPcU_2F0wMFg9ahitNtPTm9BPbiDdln1MhJbRpBoO9spMtnSKUMR7otYfs6GYbvXN6n1f8gXOQqWc56xqwRm2ehQqCVWfaqSkfGmjo/s1600/DSC03195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhPTnTKmlwJppJj5Eeav_kKx9YDh6q6r-sdZLVDPcU_2F0wMFg9ahitNtPTm9BPbiDdln1MhJbRpBoO9spMtnSKUMR7otYfs6GYbvXN6n1f8gXOQqWc56xqwRm2ehQqCVWfaqSkfGmjo/s1600/DSC03195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhPTnTKmlwJppJj5Eeav_kKx9YDh6q6r-sdZLVDPcU_2F0wMFg9ahitNtPTm9BPbiDdln1MhJbRpBoO9spMtnSKUMR7otYfs6GYbvXN6n1f8gXOQqWc56xqwRm2ehQqCVWfaqSkfGmjo/s200/DSC03195.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYNLadQPlm6geSTXJteFcUPEuTwY5nScr3Kzpwu6oqyClmGOKtDNihpZC4ap4KDPzq3_zRpwiB6q2D4xJ6F2wVJnaYbNZNCa6Qkcl_V4t8DbntX64jBOEfraAYFEnZh6pV5U0xC4PkXM/s1600/DSC03223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYNLadQPlm6geSTXJteFcUPEuTwY5nScr3Kzpwu6oqyClmGOKtDNihpZC4ap4KDPzq3_zRpwiB6q2D4xJ6F2wVJnaYbNZNCa6Qkcl_V4t8DbntX64jBOEfraAYFEnZh6pV5U0xC4PkXM/s200/DSC03223.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQ1pKgLfjWmVKOhZVEa5pE0ss042XEVAm1gR-ZrxuZTzwzAnFr3b5ZfNqwk8Auh43UD0-0McdZMm2ytnUS_DSIXgual-MFbppgDygEastIAYWbDFQxdhfQZ0wRZIkAzNrIgeO19aq2tM/s1600/DSC03197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQ1pKgLfjWmVKOhZVEa5pE0ss042XEVAm1gR-ZrxuZTzwzAnFr3b5ZfNqwk8Auh43UD0-0McdZMm2ytnUS_DSIXgual-MFbppgDygEastIAYWbDFQxdhfQZ0wRZIkAzNrIgeO19aq2tM/s200/DSC03197.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXAF8IXLajoFkDvMCVQq6sej6QEhLvqK_RxqMLmJ4dd5tXLYVYBNlbLLy6FH5VD8qO-S99zcJuknQFLfV8KK6_QPqIPDjrgwKIzVQCrStJNoipBuFwPta03RFWUMJgvJWJDuULS_Eiyn4/s1600/DSC03198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXAF8IXLajoFkDvMCVQq6sej6QEhLvqK_RxqMLmJ4dd5tXLYVYBNlbLLy6FH5VD8qO-S99zcJuknQFLfV8KK6_QPqIPDjrgwKIzVQCrStJNoipBuFwPta03RFWUMJgvJWJDuULS_Eiyn4/s200/DSC03198.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63ZB4fgcUR8frPbz6AoAvRmuWBdya_TVnSyUUmx_Dhy6nxi-LuEp9JcpbEAjr5YgDy0-urHVbi1NDWOpnr1NXEGMfq55QaaAQ4GyAzwVDZPHfFXRT38RnAarDrHPvxIoFSWTXkHf3OcE/s1600/DSC03201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63ZB4fgcUR8frPbz6AoAvRmuWBdya_TVnSyUUmx_Dhy6nxi-LuEp9JcpbEAjr5YgDy0-urHVbi1NDWOpnr1NXEGMfq55QaaAQ4GyAzwVDZPHfFXRT38RnAarDrHPvxIoFSWTXkHf3OcE/s200/DSC03201.JPG" width="200" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-CrdgT3OMsHOmYqgjAkyG2WKEY-ME0btd9s_VUejKJcxmuPZXQtsXgby9LxvdbkQvVb6-i9jJAoru14HgZcf_c7xw8K_4H9R7wQK9e2jvNw3PZn9HxWqUoo1RM3FBiAjL7LoCZRCbUW0/s1600/DSC03215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-CrdgT3OMsHOmYqgjAkyG2WKEY-ME0btd9s_VUejKJcxmuPZXQtsXgby9LxvdbkQvVb6-i9jJAoru14HgZcf_c7xw8K_4H9R7wQK9e2jvNw3PZn9HxWqUoo1RM3FBiAjL7LoCZRCbUW0/s200/DSC03215.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsKjHYr1_v3OzypOavBaZzVrfO58rM2W6O40tizks3aQwWY4zH7Y4WTxhvlyyeob1t1dMvupxRknK0tCyLwRY0hmjT3gIpVrYLrbGqV9aPE68oPAyFN5K7M8YGN24Xdv2aj_kg06kJn4/s1600/DSC03213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsKjHYr1_v3OzypOavBaZzVrfO58rM2W6O40tizks3aQwWY4zH7Y4WTxhvlyyeob1t1dMvupxRknK0tCyLwRY0hmjT3gIpVrYLrbGqV9aPE68oPAyFN5K7M8YGN24Xdv2aj_kg06kJn4/s200/DSC03213.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9EA2CbNYjDEfXtQwiJQqKWKPH6EQDT2MHBo2hUZ_ceyiCzjOfWS6zb5WkvPU9nSpi3495mPZvVAssAPtSLRAaDO7VuQkpS4HQJKt4larvc4RPZxUU_xEIOI6lFhXgCd3o-loWN-Vyf8/s1600/DSC03224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9EA2CbNYjDEfXtQwiJQqKWKPH6EQDT2MHBo2hUZ_ceyiCzjOfWS6zb5WkvPU9nSpi3495mPZvVAssAPtSLRAaDO7VuQkpS4HQJKt4larvc4RPZxUU_xEIOI6lFhXgCd3o-loWN-Vyf8/s320/DSC03224.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proof that this is Christmas!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrLmSssSI9nTfgc9dV0vrjhqJajRp8cia1AS7OYo1peG54HoK1pMHvaBZ0PUj2XB0UD8Xs4aBrw-gDOPTOQUuoHCD5AssfG2UZcYO2tBQkzyXFlaqOIsw3XM0mNRs3QXCgZf-ktfxxEQ/s1600/DSC03199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrLmSssSI9nTfgc9dV0vrjhqJajRp8cia1AS7OYo1peG54HoK1pMHvaBZ0PUj2XB0UD8Xs4aBrw-gDOPTOQUuoHCD5AssfG2UZcYO2tBQkzyXFlaqOIsw3XM0mNRs3QXCgZf-ktfxxEQ/s320/DSC03199.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marriage Isle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I have included my blurry photo of Marriage Isle. I am so sorry the photo is blurry but I love the idea of eloping on this isle, even though a reservation is required to use it, because exchanging vows on this site is supposed to bring your marriage very good luck. I really love romantic myths!</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com2San Antonio, TX, USA29.4241219 -98.49362819999998928.5394974 -99.784521699999985 30.3087464 -97.2027347tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-25726581184205798712016-02-03T09:30:00.000-06:002016-02-13T19:28:45.801-06:00Lunch at Casa Rio<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.casa-rio.com/" target="_blank">Casa Rio</a>.<br />
<br />
The first time my once-hero now-super-villain and I visited San Antonio, believe it or not, was for some salesperson to try to sell us a timeshare. (Little did the sales person know that I am a major penny pincher.) One of the big features of the timeshare was that it looked out onto San Antonio's famous Riverwalk.<br />
<br />
Until that time, I was never aware that there even was a "famous" Riverwalk in San Antonio or that the Riverwalk is one of the world's top vacation destinations. I grew up visiting New Orleans almost every year and am not a native Texan. I have lived near Washington D.C., Baltimore, Cleveland, Milwaukee and Chicago, traveled to Philadelphia, Boston, Orlando, etc., viewed the Smoky Mountains from the back seat of my parents' car as we drove, and even seen the Rocky Mountains hovering over Great Plains. The Alamo was certainly on my bucket list of places to see. But that San Antonio's Riverwalk is an ultra-famous vacation destination was news to me. I guess I have lived a pretty sheltered life....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFom83f9ITgFE9seywl212P1vmOzfF6_7OLzy4-iSV6LlKW-DKvghQn8sPGULWVrDLt7lBLwEq0Wj04TCe_dKd_YFVBAoyWalYgTYpIEcqIYNpw_LgTqHUAkTAPfQKrjtHNECc0rIragw/s1600/DSC03166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFom83f9ITgFE9seywl212P1vmOzfF6_7OLzy4-iSV6LlKW-DKvghQn8sPGULWVrDLt7lBLwEq0Wj04TCe_dKd_YFVBAoyWalYgTYpIEcqIYNpw_LgTqHUAkTAPfQKrjtHNECc0rIragw/s320/DSC03166.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The place we ate lunch after that timeshare presentation was kind of a lark. We had just fed the meter for our car (and found a ticket on the dash because our time had run out while we were there) and were looking for some food when we saw a sign on the road: <a href="http://www.casa-rio.com/" target="_blank">+Casa Rio</a>. My husband asked me what it meant. Not wanting to disappoint, I dusted off the cobwebs in my brain that surround my pre-kindergarten knowledge of Spanish and made an educated guess.<br />
<br />
"Casa" means "House" and "Rio," I thought, was probably "River." So "River House" was my answer. (Guess what? I was right!) We decided to go in and try it out. What we found inside was delicious, authentic Tex-Mex and the very first restaurant to ever to open its doors to the River Walk. They opened in 1946 shortly after the San Antonio River became controlled by flood gates. The history is kind of interesting, if you get the right tour guide. (We took a boat tour after our meal.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7BG9KE-leMUHFG5W2V__eJ8OV2B4to2MMeygJKFgo9GdL8OjzozSf-5cbQmzNHGXC1LmduHsb7M6OAQLLuGfSBi0KR3lQdx4gtryvDhKhGoefZ8PKiSAIwq-df52zkf9PuSNSZfil0w/s1600/DSC03171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7BG9KE-leMUHFG5W2V__eJ8OV2B4to2MMeygJKFgo9GdL8OjzozSf-5cbQmzNHGXC1LmduHsb7M6OAQLLuGfSBi0KR3lQdx4gtryvDhKhGoefZ8PKiSAIwq-df52zkf9PuSNSZfil0w/s320/DSC03171.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Casa Rio's balcony</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next time we visited downtown San Antonio was the time we performed our parental obligation to local history and took our kids to see the Alamo. They were bored; we were bored. But at least we knew where to eat!<br />
<br />
It is now about a decade later. As you know from my other posts, Anne did not remember visiting the Alamo so I dragged her there during our visit to the area. (The "area" meaning within about a 2 hour drive.) Besides, I wanted to go to <a href="https://www.clayworld.com/" target="_blank">+Clay World</a> -- which is NOT where its website says it is, by the way. The store front we found is closed. (What a bummer! It is good that we looked for it <i><u>before</u></i> going downtown so that our trip did not end on a sour note.)<br />
<br />
I love excuses to eat good food. Being right nearby was the only excuse I needed to take Anne to my favorite (aka only) Mexican restaurant in San Antonio, Casa Rio. Lunchtime prices are relatively reasonable for a sit-down Mexican restaurant, of course the unlimited chips and salsa is free, and the service is both friendly and attentive. (And the salsa has a good flavor, which is important to my discriminating palate because bad flavors in Mexican food is one of my biggest pet peeves.) Plus most of the servers I saw there looked to be of Hispanic origins -- which is good for anyone who wants to practice speaking Spanish with native speakers. Best of all, though... mmm... is the cooking. Take a look at the plates of food we got to eat.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSTsnSp8Q7U_j8XQ5KYQtCoAmWwBDgk5lSsxMffCdHRDw5LsGRiifXwbBjOrp0WkJTRvP_9CACw9TRNIN8_NrqFeqLnG8iX-A4qExgQJNHxhhrqnb0MKsuK_xXq1u0R231KychFX9ADs/s1600/DSC03167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSTsnSp8Q7U_j8XQ5KYQtCoAmWwBDgk5lSsxMffCdHRDw5LsGRiifXwbBjOrp0WkJTRvP_9CACw9TRNIN8_NrqFeqLnG8iX-A4qExgQJNHxhhrqnb0MKsuK_xXq1u0R231KychFX9ADs/s320/DSC03167.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I really like authentic flautas.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOAvgqSJnmI6IYqWhtaA5UV1f1Z-hMBpYINUn2KocbQA5g0Pm-QHsxd2i4MiRwE9jWksjIrkqBn-OxcYnVeKl-OHnD2qSmXUiYdyPi1fS5VTg5e2dbcwS6-uPUIAkxc0ByXyFBd81o80/s1600/DSC03168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOAvgqSJnmI6IYqWhtaA5UV1f1Z-hMBpYINUn2KocbQA5g0Pm-QHsxd2i4MiRwE9jWksjIrkqBn-OxcYnVeKl-OHnD2qSmXUiYdyPi1fS5VTg5e2dbcwS6-uPUIAkxc0ByXyFBd81o80/s320/DSC03168.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note how enthused my daughter lookjs to have a photo taken of her food. LOL</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This post is getting long. I guess I will show my photos of our San Antonio River tour in my next entry. See you then!</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5509832972803281035.post-29457824045514201872016-02-01T09:30:00.000-06:002016-02-13T19:29:18.436-06:00Visiting the Alamo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My daughter probably wishes she had kept her mouth shut. But she did not. When she was in high school, after we moved out of Texas, she said something to me about not remembering visiting the <a href="http://www.thealamo.org/" target="_blank"><complete id="goog_2040255175">+</complete>Alamo</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcIo79P847wI2TvW0awaZ8gdfKmsbQdTB9r5UmZEKCUNvI1p6K15nEd01K1gaGTqmJj-1EUpCyOR1qplJSqfKHze3PqlpqHcsYIkjmsSxsl9mcBZsmrCzgbJkrI2-SiRwTupGivE-Gfk/s1600/DSC03170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcIo79P847wI2TvW0awaZ8gdfKmsbQdTB9r5UmZEKCUNvI1p6K15nEd01K1gaGTqmJj-1EUpCyOR1qplJSqfKHze3PqlpqHcsYIkjmsSxsl9mcBZsmrCzgbJkrI2-SiRwTupGivE-Gfk/s320/DSC03170.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Granted, we only took her to the Alamo once. But we did take her! After one walk through the historic site, I felt I had done my duty and we were free to spend our visits to San Antonio at either Six Flags or Seaworld... or, better yet, spend them just north of San Antonio in New Braunfels at Schlitterbahn. (We loved visiting <a href="http://www.schlitterbahn.com/" target="_blank">Schlitterbahn</a>!)<br />
<br />
Clearly, I was wrong because Anne did not remember her visit to history -- which meant I had to drag her back to the site to gather photographic proof she was there with me. Lucky Anne! (Lucky me that she is a good sport.) Was this the reason for our trip? Nah. It was just a bonus.<br />
<br />
Note: Anne's brother got out of this excursion through the excuse of his
continued illness. Happily, his fever was broken. But he still felt
awful. So he stayed in bed all day while we went out.<br />
<br />
So here it is, the proof that I took my daughter to the Alamo. See how it says "The Alamo" on the sign beside her? (Can you tell from her rigid pose how much she wants to have her photo taken?) <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpVX2gI7Q4O_BDOqWgesZ06-IMu7HJDF810inXls19Clknz5Xqo5cWyRv5y4jKSm_hr2QiILn7P2emrbRaniwfyJk7wPFfjfyldy8P8vyjp3lohezv6pG7TrwN7t54v-T7VgapCpSwwaI/s1600/DSC03162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpVX2gI7Q4O_BDOqWgesZ06-IMu7HJDF810inXls19Clknz5Xqo5cWyRv5y4jKSm_hr2QiILn7P2emrbRaniwfyJk7wPFfjfyldy8P8vyjp3lohezv6pG7TrwN7t54v-T7VgapCpSwwaI/s320/DSC03162.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I also snapped a shot of her next to a giant cactus inside the walls of the Alamo. Look at how huge that thing is! I wonder how old it is?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQmIlCJ3d4zB7CujB_7z4oO3gl6BW1KGpa0_2PoqPllx82VRA7Yxy-X36iI8uf-mnnpzOmDtC87ZUVyCx62M_04RM97EwfCgy7pROYJJhBb2lu4UmSwy5w6pQ3ROZSBl-lmT53MdGLdA/s1600/DSC03163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQmIlCJ3d4zB7CujB_7z4oO3gl6BW1KGpa0_2PoqPllx82VRA7Yxy-X36iI8uf-mnnpzOmDtC87ZUVyCx62M_04RM97EwfCgy7pROYJJhBb2lu4UmSwy5w6pQ3ROZSBl-lmT53MdGLdA/s320/DSC03163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Here is one of me to prove I was there, also. See all the people lined up to get in? There is no gatekeeper or entrance fee. These people are just lined up to walk through a gate. That's how many people there were! Way too many for our tastes.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EsFJdqFBCIVRQg8EpNo-qfcLw924OoDpEoonkx98_cRPL6Ig3b41BZ2GqzxmZ3Yt1bNoQX6xWsGscpIN5dB6sMpalVO22pI6O59yEYjauri9mkQwocE6weXrov41mMCywfKuVeHOf6Y/s1600/DSC03169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EsFJdqFBCIVRQg8EpNo-qfcLw924OoDpEoonkx98_cRPL6Ig3b41BZ2GqzxmZ3Yt1bNoQX6xWsGscpIN5dB6sMpalVO22pI6O59yEYjauri9mkQwocE6weXrov41mMCywfKuVeHOf6Y/s320/DSC03169.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
The good news about going during a time when tourists are swarming all over the place is that the museum has plenty of actors working exhibits to make history interesting. Here is a photo of one exhibit with an actor telling "his" story. We did not listen, though, because it was way too big of a crowd. (Even on a Tuesday! But it was Christmas week.) We were too far away from the actor to hear him and we kind of just wanted to get out of there and away from all the people, anyway.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXdMzVQRPd3kOw_6Xyj4HvgxKccaSuBo4jW3XMCTsxzhwpYQW0TT282JFzwKL6EM5-oTEOsKVoaW_Vq-dQaLFn_jeiVTKcyPB2hYXec_k5TAH1PfsRd0FY94dANwPd8OOWMlLUEwY9z4/s1600/DSC03164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXdMzVQRPd3kOw_6Xyj4HvgxKccaSuBo4jW3XMCTsxzhwpYQW0TT282JFzwKL6EM5-oTEOsKVoaW_Vq-dQaLFn_jeiVTKcyPB2hYXec_k5TAH1PfsRd0FY94dANwPd8OOWMlLUEwY9z4/s320/DSC03164.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Maybe next time we will come at a slower time and be able to poke around without people everywhere. Maybe next time I will have grandchildren with me? Maybe not. We will have to wait and see.<br />
<br />
After our very brief walk through the Alamo and the purchase of a souvenir from the gift shop for each of us, we left and moved our car to a parking lot instead of metered parking. (I always get nervous that the time on the meter will run out before I come back to feed it.) Then I took Anne to my favorite spot in downtown San Antonio: Casa Rio on the River Walk. More on those next time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Visit A Writer's Blot at http://awritersblot.blogspot.com or http://sunshyne.net</div>Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05773535836087004693noreply@blogger.com0