This is Just a Warmup ... Straight from the Bookshop, it's Aesop!!!

It showed up at the door stop
My precious Aesop!
From my bed I sit up
And exclaim: "It's my pop up"!

So I hop up
Grab my camera and startup
Not one to name drop
But I love Aesop!
And it's a Pop up!
Which I love more is a toss up ...



I know, I'm a cutup ...
Here lets start up.
Don't mind the Shaker Box
Behind the fox ...
It is just a back drop
For good old Aesop!




Seriously?

That was exhausting - I'm gonna stop with the pop up rhyme up ...

Right now ...

But how?


What good Mormon doesn't love "The Ants and the Grasshopper" Fable?

It's what in lean times keeps food on our table!



This is above ground and
I believe I spy a little guy ...
If my eyes don't belie
ready to defy and try - to supply
The poor grasshopper some rye!




This is the Cave like atmosphere below ground ...
Under the mound.
See what I found!
Two guards that confound.
The difference between them astound.
I am sure this is bound to be profound ...

I will expound:

On the right is "IndignANT" he is:

"The Ant with the rANT who never recANTs"

On the left is "PleasANT" who

"While no RembrANdT, much less a SavANT and whose brains are rather scANT can TOTALLY enchANT"




Take a gander at that ... Gander:




And one of my most loved Fables that is usually accompanied by the quote:

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.

OK ... so I TOTALLY am tapped out on rhymes ...








And another personal favorite plus the one that led me to this charming book!

Take a look:




I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this one because of the message it delivers:



I spent quite a lot of time this week reading up on Aesop. As I mentioned in a previous post I thought that with all of his Fables I could come up with a clever tie-in to each of the items I was going to write about. That didn't happen. It was not that the Fables failed me per se - but that they were TOO GOOD. As I was not including 'The rest of the story' a couple of the Fables were spot on - but inappropriate for the post thus I was so frustrated with this I gave up in my quest.

But not before learning everything I ever wanted to know about Aesop and then some.

Had you asked me who Aesop was BEFORE last week I would not have really known but would have guess that he was some dude in Europe living around the time of Hans Christian Anderson ... and BOY! Would I have been wrong! TOTALLY did not know that he was a Greek Slave circa 620–564 BC. And that he is credited with more than 656 fables ... that is WAY MORE than I would have guessed.

I knew that I was rather enamoured with some of his Fables for their wisdom ... but had no idea how very clever and smart he was until I started reading quotes attribued to him and quickly became a fan ...









And in closing ...

Sadly ...


As pop-up books are wont to do


It has already sustained an injury. I believe it was a horrible "Folding Accident" since I was über careful opening each precious page and heard no horrifying ripping noises ...

Alas I forgot that the closing and accompanying folding of the pop-up is as dangerous as the opening but closed the pages quickly and I am suffering for it

*sigh*



Now here is a question for you ...

Is the Universe trying to tell me something or am I being ... well, exactly like myself?

Notice in that there photo up there that IT IS THE TORTOISE that is injured?

And that it is his leg?

Should I be concerned?


Yes?


No?



This will probably keep me up all weekend ...

Doctors ... Doctors ... Doctors ...

So ... in my great day of

"Blog Catch Up"

I am going to briefly (OK, I am proof reading this and that 'breifly' part? While it was a goal ... I can't really say that I accomplished it ...) well - that would be as brief as Lori can make it - go over last Thursdays Doctor appointment and contrast it with yesterday's Tuesdays Doctors appointment.

It is AMAZING how things can turn out so completely different than how you ever expected it to ...

And WHY, OH WHY is it always some disaster?

Why can't it be a pleasant surprise of something wonderful?

I got to Thursdays appointment via "Gary's Chauffeur Service". He waited until the doors opened and then headed off to meetings he had at work.

His problem was that people had flown in from Norway for these meetings and if Gary was not there the meeting could not be held ... since it was his meeting.

For that reason I was taking a Taxi home.

This is no big deal - have done it many many times in Australia, a few times here - not a problem. My wonderful friends felt horrible but were stuck in their own things and could not help. I felt bad that they felt bad, because, really -


How bad can one Taxi ride be?


And on that question we head into my appointment that went well.  OK - now THERE is something surprisingly wonderful ... maybe I am just not looking hard enough?

I begged out of getting my blood drawn since she took it when I came in for the broken foot. And although she said I was anemic, she gave me a bye since I was so pathetic in my begging ...

Left her office - complete with all three months of Morphine prescriptions (the reason for the visit and also the reason that even though I did not have rides both ways was not going to cancel ...).

Happily skipping off ... well as best a girl can do on a scooter - so I guess I happily 'Scootered Off' and down the elevator.

Got out my phone and called the cab companies number that I had oh-so-cleverly saved on my phone the night before. Told them I needed someone with a toll pass and that could take cards. The dispatcher said no problem and they would send one right out.


GOING GOOD!


Am I a genius or what?


OK - this here photo is where I should have started thinking that things JUST MIGHT not go down the way I expected them to:



Trouble is I had called YELLOW CAB ... 

I scootered over and he said that 'yes' he was the one dispatched for me - gave me my name thus ensuring this was my one-and-only cab then said they were all part of the same company.


OK, no biggie and started to ATTEMPT to get in the van.


I SHOULD have asked for help ...


I SHOULD NOT have had to ...


I was just stubborn enough that if he wanted to watch me clearly struggling to get myself and my damn heavy scooter in the van with no help whatsoever from him that I would let him so that when he dies and goes to Heaven he will have to explain himself ...


You're Welcome Mr. Taxi Driver ...


Sort of hurt my foot ... and my pride ... and my dignity but got myself and the scooter in the van and the door shut.


And suddenly I realized that I might have just made a VITAL MISTAKE ...


"Do you have a Toll Pass?" I asked - merely confirming what the dispatcher had promised.


"No" he replied.


WHAT?!*&?!*?


See - here is where I REALLY, REALLY should have asked him this question before that fifteen minute debacle of getting in his damn van ...

I was going to get out but he was frustrated and I was frustrated so I thought:

"How bad could Beltway 8 to Hwy 59 to 99 be? It is in the middle of the day ..."


And settled in.


Took this photo longingly as we passed the entrance to the Tollway:




Decided to get comfy for the ride and settled back and closed my eyes. It is at this moment that I realize that I must have hurt my foot a bit.

If you remember where we last left off after my last appointment with the Orthopedic Surgeon - my foot was too swollen to put a 'real' cast on thus he put me in a 'soft' cast.

It was basically some padding and a couple of ace bandages and I felt, as I said in that Wednesdays post, a little exposed.

I sat there wondering if I had hurt it a lot or a little when I opened my eyes to check on the Taxi status and saw this:



I was a little disoriented - then it hit me ...


OH.


MY.


GOSH.


This freaking stupid Taxi driver is going to take the Tollway FEEDER all the way out to my house!


Yeah - see all those cars down there it that photo?


On the Tollway - zipping away to and fro ...


And me?


I get to STOP AT EVERY DANG LIGHT BETWEEN HERE AND HOME.



I was seriously not liking this guy.


See - the light down there in the photo?


See where I am sitting taking the photo with my iPhone?



Now - THAT light was fine - it was GREEN.


Lets fast forward a couple of lights and this one is turning RED.


Does he notice?



Apparently not until he almost back ended the car stopped in front of him ...



So - what does he do?


Why YES HE DID!


I mean what else do you do but smash on the brakes?



I mean really?



I had opened my eyes about a millisecond before he slammed on said brakes and I flew into his swankified, all techno dashboard up there ...


and SMASHED IT HARD.



But for good measure on the way there I somehow smashed my foot up on the back of the seat and then it bounced off the floor.



Not good.



Not good at all.



Suddenly he was all concerned about me.



I told him that I had smashed my broken foot and it was as if it was the first time he realized that I had a broken foot!


Got myself back up on the bench seat, in huge amounts of pain, pretty sure if I spoke I would vomit and strangely enough didn't take another single photo for the rest of the ride home ...


... weird, huh?



So - I spent the rest of that day in bed and it got worse and worse and worse.



I was in a serious pain spiral and not thinking straight when it occurred to me that it was swelling with nowhere to go.


I immediately sat up in bed and started to rip the soft cast off.


I was NO WHERE NEAR rational or even semi normal. I don't remember much of it but Gary said I was a mad woman trying to get it off when he noticed and came over and cut it off of me. He said my toes were blue and I did not look well.



It felt MUCH BETTER after that ....



So I spent the weekend trying to get the swelling down and wondering if I should call the Doctor and go in and have it checked out. In the end I just decided to keep trying to get the swelling down and go to my Wednesday appointment and let the chips fly ...



By Tuesday night it was looking pretty good - but not great:



My dear, sweet friend Bonne came and picked me up the next morning for my Doctors appointment.

Now that is friendship!


I don't know if my two 'besties' know how much there transportation helps have meant to me. It is wonderful feeling as if someone loves you!


Soooo much nicer when my friends take me to the Doctor ... I know that they cannot always do it - but I will take what I can get and be satisfied with that.


I took another shot of the swelling while waiting for the doctor - still not good, but not bad:



He was not pleased when I told him what had happened, but agreed that taking the soft cast off was the only option. I had told him that I had been wearing the 'Boot' he had put me in at our first visit (before the surgery).

I told him that I had tried to put it on with the soft cast and the cast was too big - it would not fit. And I sorta MIGHT have left off how often I actually wore it ...


He agreed that we could not put a cast on again this week, but I asked him what were the chances that he would agree to NEVER put that cast on me? He was not convinced at first but when I told him how much easier it made bathing, etc he decided since I had gone so long without it ... why not?

That was AFTER he made me promise to not to put any weight on my foot. I mean he actually said it:

"Do you promise not to put any weight on that foot?"

and right then the argument came to mind that had he gone and put a cast on my foot - either way if I wanted to I COULD TOTALLY PUT WEIGHT ON MY FOOT ... this was a moot point - but wisely decided not to mention this and just promised him.

So, he grabbed an ace bandage - swaddled my foot and then put the boot on - we were stuck with each other (but I can TOTALLY TAKE IT OFF WHEN I WANT TO!  Such a plus!!):



He said that next week I would be getting an x-ray.  He wrote me out an order for it and so next week I go in and get pictures of my foot!

It is next door to the Doctor, so after they x-ray it they will give me the films and I take them to the Doc.


TOTALLY going to take some tape in my purse, stop on route to the Good Doctor - tape it to a window and snap a few photos before giving them up ... of course.


Left his office and back out to Bonne. Outside was fixing to be an absolutely lovely, wonderful day ...


It felt nice.




And door to door service ... are my friends not the greatest?



And then Bonne gave me the treat of the month!



IT WAS HUGE!!!



EPIC!!!



She stopped her car on the side of the road on 99 & Alternate 90 (a rather busy intersection) and let me take photos of the Bluebonnets!

What a wonderful gift!


She knew I needed some photos and I apparently needed to play with them well past the point of reason in Photoshop ...


Call me crazy - I had a blast playing last night and today!













She had dropped off a special treat when she picked me up:


Flowers from her yard:




She knows how much I love flowers and love to photograph flowers.

I went in and sat them in a lovely bright spot:



What?


The 'S'?


Oh.

Well both Bonne and I had noticed that my cleaning ladies must have switched back the 'Hurts' to 'Hurst' the day before when they were here and Bonne decided that it just WOULD NOT DO ...


And decided FURTHER that it looked best like this:



And so it sits. My 'Hurts' spelled by a kindergartner!


I like it!




I noticed my foot was bothering me and I decided it was time for some air.


Dang!


He must had wrapped that puppy tight!


Is this really the preferred method to get swelling down?

I know that is a VERY GROSS PHOTO but look at those grooves!

It does not seem like this is doing my foot or the swelling any good - other than to make it look horrible when I take off the bandage ...



This does not seem to be the way to do it ...



... then I am not a doctor, either ...

Slow and Steady Wins the Race ...

I have fallen into what I would call a

"Blogging Quandary"

First, I am a week behind and I had plans, real plans to combine my "Disastrous Thursday" with "Aesop's Tuesday" with "Blossoms & Bonne Wednesday" in a wonderful summary using quotes from that famed Fablemaker: Aesop.

The problem?


Aesop will NOT cooperate!

He has some quotes that fit EXACTLY with what REALLY happened on my "Disastrous Thursday" but I am going to write an abridged version of the day not the entire thing, because, really - there are some things that are just not blogable.

So this quote?

 It tempts and torments me on HOW PERFECT it is ... so last night I threw in the towel in the wee hours of the morning and decided that the combined Aesop's version was just not going to do ...

Not at all.


Thus I will blog about my Aesop's Tuesday and then on to another post to finish up ...



Tell me - isn't that the MOST ADORABLE pop up in a Pop-Up Book ever?  It is an Aesop's Fables Pop-Up book that is to DIE FOR ...

(So don't tell Gary it will be on our front porch tomorrow ...)

Yes, if you can read AT ALL you will already know what this post is about.


Now - can you guess who is the Hare in this Scenario?


The Tortoise?


If you can read AT ALL and have read ANY of my posts you should have somewhat of a clue ...


Tuesday was the day we were picking up Gary's truck from the shop. It was a bit of a drive ...


For you 'Houstoninan's' it is on HWY 59 & Murphy Road - the Ford Dealer - I forget the name ...


If you get me in a car, point me in the right direction and store my trike stroller scooter in the back - I am good to go!

So Gary settled me in my car, drove to the dealership, got me out, I scootered to the drivers seat, boosted myself up (With the help of a foot stool - what a glorious day that was ... the day we discovered how much easier my life would be hoisting myself into a very high Ford F150 or Tahoe with a foot stool ...) and adjusted the sights for the drive home.

On the way there we had discussed getting home. I was of the thought that taking the surface streets would be a good way to miss all the rush hour traffic madness. 

Gary was of the thought that he would take the freeway home because he wanted to get home QUICKLY.  I, on the other hand, was not looking for speed, but something that would not be stressful ...

So we differed ... but that is not all that unusual.

I was quickly becoming nauseous ... apparently just for fun as I saw no reason for this to occur and Gary started looking for places to pull over and purchase me a fountain drink.

There was nothing convenient and I told him to not bother, that I would pick something up on the way home.

Since I was taking the surface streets, my familiar, old haunts before we moved to Norway.  I had heard the area was all built up in the ten years or so since I had driven around in that area and was sure the area would be sprinkled generously with fast food outlets.

Convincing me even further to take the route I had picked - we had come in to 59 on Alternate 90 and the opposing traffic was blocked off by Police and a very Toxic looking Tanker Truck sat abandoned in the middle of 5 empty lanes of traffic.

Wanting to rabidly avoid THAT area, I had deduced that my route would be the least stressful and I was good to go.

Gary, several times attempted to convince me that the traffic was not going to be that bad on Hwy 59 - he was going to take it all the way out to 99 (The Grand Parkway) and thus avoiding Alternate 90 and the Toxic Tanker Truck also - but no go - and there were no convenient stops for a drink on the Highway - thus I was undeterred in my quest ...

He shrugged, said something like "To each his own" told me he would let me know when it was clear he would be driving the truck home and I could leave and headed to parts unknown.

I sat back, relaxed and tried not to ralph (yet again) on my dashboard and in no time at all Gary was back giving me the 'Go ahead' signal and I pulled out of the parking lot.

Started down a road that I was fairly familiar with thinking that there was a Burger King with a DRIVE-UP - that all important convenience that has become a necessity in my life - hooked to a Shell station off to my right so I got in the right lane ... 'Ever Prepared' is my motto ...

As I was driving by the Shell station thinking "Hmm, I could have SWORN there was a Burger King there too", I glanced off to my left as I passed a stand-alone Burger King ... apparently things have changed in the ten years it has been that I have been down that road.

I didn't loop around still thinking there would be GRUNDLES and GRUNDLES of fast food joints on my way home. Was on West Airport - at Eldridge I took a right and headed North to my goal: West Belfort - it now goes almost straight through to my house - thus I was just going to take it all the way in to Harlem and then just 'do the usual' and lickety split ... I would be home!

Apparently West Belfort is zoned for apartments and housing since that is pretty much all I saw and my chances for a soft drink were dwindling. Sure there was the occasional gas station ... WITH A STUPID FOOD MART and no drive thru - what's a disabled girl to do?


As I turned onto Harlem, I noticed a big white truck behind me - it was blocking my vision and annoying ... but I was used to that during the times that Gary and I drove in tandem.

I turned onto 99 ... almost home!

Waiting at the light at 99 and the entrance to my sub-division, I looked up in my rear view mirror to see that the big white truck was still with me ... and what looked suspiciously like a 'Gary' driving it ...

Sure enough it followed me all the way home ...


... as I pulled into the driveway FIRST.


I was confused to say the least. Did he not trust me? Did he follow me home? How did he catch up with me since I left a minute or two before him?

I asked him and so he recounted his route:

He got on the freeway fully intending on taking it clear out to 99 but it started to back up so he jumped off at Williams Trace and booked it over to Hwy 6 where he headed North to Alternate 90 - a position way past the Toxic Tanker Truck so he thought he was good.  When he got to the turn for 90 he said it was more backed up than he has ever seen it - which is saying a lot since for the past three years this had been his route home until about two months ago.

He was not going to wait for that, so he kept going North on Hwy 6 until he hit West Belfort, made the turn and started taking it home ...

Where he quickly - since he was going much faster than me - caught up with me.


He then stayed behind me until we pulled up and made like he did it on purpose because I would not be able to get out of my car until he was home. It was all a service to me. 

He gives and he gives and he gives ...

I had ASSUMED based on my route and his route that he would have been home DECADES sooner than me thus the helping me out of the car was never a worry for me ...



who knew?



It was not until about two hours later that I realized that we had just lived out one of my most beloved of all of Aesop's fables ...


I'm a plodder, but eventually I get there!

Kjærlighet and the Licorice Tree ...

I've been thinking about eccentric behavior lately ...


Me?


No - but there IS that ...


My theory with human beings is that as we grow older we just don't give a damn what other people think of us, thus we tend to do whatever we want - which may be construed by others as being 'eccentric'.


Makes sense.


How about dogs?


EVEN IF I thought that my Sweet Kjærlighet was developing the 'I just don't give a shit' attitude - which, based on her behavior at MOST times being the exact opposite of this - it makes no sense for a dog - a cat, maybe ...


 Charlie lives or dies based on how we are feeling towards her.  Take, for example, today.

I arrived home from some very unpleasant unpleasantries and as I unlocked the back door and came in - Charlie was her usual jumpy, and leapy, and barky and waggy and demanding her treat (a pigs ear for keeping the house free of pirates, marauding invaders, burglars and any other riff raff that is skulking about) - thus her usual self  - but I have the nose of a hound dog and it immediately hits me that doggie poo was about.  And she prefers to 'toilet' on my white rug - which - is excatly where I found it later.

"Ahhhgggghhhh! Charlie!" I exclaimed with more than a little bit of frustration and disappointment in my voice.

IN AN INSTANT she stopped all her jumping, and leaping, and barking and wagging and demanding and became Remorseful Lugubrious Dog, put her tail between her legs and skulked off - and I had yet to spy her offending 'gift'.

This does not sound like a Dog who has suddenly decided to not 'give a shit' ... er ... so to speak.

But if there was one word that could describe our dog as of late ... that word would be Eccentric - but that is only because  "Hands Down The Weirdest Oddest Smartest Sneakiest And Just Plain Freaking Oddest Dog on the Planet" does not fit that 'One Word' rule ...


First - a year or so back - she decided to start eating my pants.


EATING.


MY.



PANTS.



PANTS - you know - as in denim?  Wear them on the lower half of your body? Yeah - I would pick up a pair from off the floor (what? Don't judge me ...) to put them on the next day and what do you know - HALF THE DAMN PAIR IS MISSING.

Seriously - what impels a dog to wake up one day and decide, "Hmmm, you know what? I think that I am going to start EATING PANTS TODAY."

It MIGHT be semi-normal had she done it from the day we brought her cute furry puppy black butt home - but since we got her in January of 2005 - that is a very big NO.


So - I got on Amazon and ordered 4 ginormous laundry baskets with lids - thus thwarting her efforts - and if your pants were eaten, well, then it was your own stupid fault for leaving them out for the "Pants Eater", now wasn't it?


We have sort of relaxed our vigilance of everything being in the hampers lately and we have not found mauled and mutilated clothing items strewn about the house - so she might have worked that one out of her system ...


Hah! ...


again ...


so to speak ...


Probably a wee bit before she started eating pants, she started 'Dumpster Diving'. I guess she had decided that the garbage cans were her own personal shopping space and anything in them was fair game.


That sounds fairly OK ... in theory.


The day I caught her eating a BOAT LOAD of DRYER LINT ... after running in the bathroom to throw up ... because ... ugh - just ugh - I decided that the habit really was not as innocuous as I had earlier assumed.


Plus - she is a slob - she pulls everything out, takes what she wants to some secret lair where she apparently stashes her treasures - if she does not immediately EAT IT - and then just leaves everything else strewn about the room. She is a slob to the 100th degree ...


She also has a 'Thing' for Wet Wipes.

I DO TOO - I like them - they come in handy in all sorts of situations - but throw one in the garbage?  You be in for an EXTRA SPECIAL treat with that one!

Her digestive tract apparently can take the PANTS, toilet tissue, cardboard boxes, Q-Tips, elastics, and *shudder* dryer lint - but it apparently draws the line at Wet Wipes.

They are forcefully ejected from her body in one of two ways ...

I am pretty sure that you can figure out for your own selves the two types of expulsions we are talking about.

And ODDLY ENOUGH when in the house and her urge to ... expel becomes her number one priority - does she come and get me and politely tell me she needs to go outside? 

And, let me be clear - yes, she has a certain growl / mutter / talky / barky thingie that she does that is reserved for: "Let me outside now ... B***ch" sentence that she is clearly saying - be it during the day or the middle of the night.  It always sounds EXACTLY THE SAME - thus it is rather easy to know when she needs / wants to go outside.

Does she do this?

No ... she wanders over to the nearest piece of carpet - off of the miles and miles of tile and wood flooring and then just ... expels ...


ON THE CARPET / RUG. And there in the middle of ... whatever ... in all its disgusting glory is a single, intact wet wipe sheet.

 Seriously ...

HOW DOES SHE EVEN GET IT INTO HER STOMACH WHOLE?


Thus the necessity for these types of garbage cans where ever a wipe might be used:

She is looking guilty here because she is still feeling rather guilty for the 'mess' on the carpet today.  She refuses to make eye contact with me, but sits near enough that I can hear her chanting "I'm Not Worthy" over and over.


WHY OH WHY does she not feel guilty about expelling Wet Wipes?

 Does she think we think it is cool? Since it was ours to begin with - she is just - basically giving it back?


WHAT?


This dog really is starting to drive me nuts ...



And then I wrote the post:


"Hands Down The Weirdest Thing My Dog Has Ever Done"

About her chewing up a Frisbee and then trying to hide it before Gary discovered her naughtiness by burying it -


There are no words to the depth of weirdness my Kjærlighet can get into ...



Which brings us back to this week.


Well, it started last week ...


I remember because it was the day the Cleaning Ladies came and cleaned the house.

I had 'Scootered' out to the kitchen after they were gone and noticed a pile of dirt on the floor by our one sorry, sad, barely alive tree in my 'Indoor Garden'. I thought it odd that they would clean up the entire house and then, for some reason do something to dump some dirt on the floor and not clean it up.


I gave it approximately 1 second of thought and then put it out of my mind.


Then, yesterday, I arrived home after my wonderful friend dropped me off from taking me to the Doctor and noticed a rather large pile of dirt on the floor:

In addition, in the pot holding the tree - there was a big hole, like something had been digging. You cannot see it really well with this photo, but the front portion of the dirt is about nine inches lower than the back portion of dirt.

It's too tall for Charlie - thus I said out loud:

"Charlie, I do believe we have been invaded by opossums!"

Never mind that they are nocturnal, don't dig at all and just - why opossums?

Well ... I guess ... why not?


Gary got home and the dirt was all still sitting there (like other things I will not mention) because it is almost impossible for me to clean up something on the floor with this scooter thingie.  I have to get off and crawl around - not one of my best sports. 

When he saw it and mentioned it I told him my theory.


He was less enthusiastic that random, odd animals had invaded our home.


And then we had a conversation that went roughly like this while he was in by the tree and I was at my computer:


Gary: "I gave Charlie a piece of licorice last night."


Lori: "OK, that is just lovely ... and you are telling me this why?"


Gary: "Because I think that maybe she buried it in the tree pot."


Lori: "Are you FREAKING SERIOUS? Opossums are MORE LIKELY. There is NO WAY Charlie could bury something in there - it is like three feet high!"


Gary: "And ... here it is!"


Lori: "What?!?"


Gary: "There was a piece of licorice buried in the dirt."


Lori: "THERE WAS NOT. You just totally made that up!"


Gary: "No, it's here - I'm going to toss it ... idiot dog. This is the LAST piece of licorice I give her ..."


Lori: "WAIT! PUT IT BACK! I need to take some photos of it!"


Gary: *sigh*


I still half thought he was pulling my leg until I got over there with my camera:

A close up - and no - it is not sprinkled liberally with flour - that is sunlight streaming through the blinds - but looks ... well, like I sprinkled it liberally with flour:

So ... apparently treats for the dog are out unless we see her actually eat them since who knows what she has done with the treats we have given her over the years.


Like Gary mused last night - it is not like there is another dog or a small child or ... something that might steal her precious licorice - did she really need to get up on her hind legs - dig a hole - put the licorice in it - and then cover it up? Seriously?


That seems to be a lot of work for nothing ...


Or is she trying to grow a Licorice Tree?

Bass-akwards

Today was the day!

I was going to get a cast! Something to protect my foot from, well ... myself, marauding invaders and dogs named Charlie.

I was simply thrilled.

This morning before leaving for the appointment, I unwrapped my footie-fake-cast-thingy entirely thinking that I would do a wee bit of 'cleaning up' so that when the cast was applied it would not seem so gross.

You know when you are moving furniture around your house and the guys move a huge shelf set and underneath it is like a TON of dust, dead bugs, small dead animals (kidding), cereal and other foodstuffs and you yell - "Just give me a sec to vacuum this crap up!" before they set the couch down ON TOP OF ALL OF IT?

 Generally I get a chance, because, seriously - placing a couch over that crap would keep me up nights and I would not be able to sit on the couch until I shoved it out of the way and vacuumed underneath it.

It is like after seeing it - it is VITAL it must be gone - before that it was not bothering me a bit. Just a little housekeeping sense y'all - that's all I ask.



My pre-prep plans for my foot and lower part of my calf?


EXACTLY THE SAME THING ...


Gary had mentioned when I discovered that I did not have 'sutures' as my Doctor referred to them, but rather - staples - that it was no biggie. He said they were sort of like those paper clamps ...

OK - I cannot describe them - I have some cute ones - just a sec and I will take a photo ...


Dang ... where are they? They are in the CUTEST tin?


Hmmm


Oh!


Found em ...

See:

What?

The "Fancy Schmancy Picture"  ... of CLAMPS?


The pillow embossing, the texturing, the fancy framing?

Yeah, I'm THAT bored ...


Photoshop is my friend ...



Anyhoooo ... Gary said they were EXACTLY like these ... except not as pretty, and not as big, and pretty much LOOK like regular staples - but work like these to just clamp the skin shut.

Thus when they take them off they just have a little doohickey that bends the little ends out and they 'fall right off'  I SWEAR that is what he said ...

He mentioned last night that we should have taken them out ourselves over the weekend since the only reason the doctor did not do it last Wednesday was because he was on Spring Break - so we are a week later than usual.

And why always Wednesdays? I know you are all dying to know ... he is only at the office near us on Wednesdays - thus everything occurs on a Wednesday ...



So - back to this morning - I decided after unwrapping my foot that I would, you know, just take the clampie thingies off and jump in the tub and scrub the crap out of my foot and leg before the cast was applied.


Grabbed one and gave it a good tug.


Hmmm ...


Ick ...


Ouch!


 It didn't move.


Tried a few more just in case that particular one was just being stubborn and NONE of them did anything but hurt like the dickens as I tugged on them - so I decided in my infinite wisdom that maybe I should not be doing this procedure by me own self ...

I sort of gave up on that whole 'jumping' and 'scrubbing' also since I seemed spent from just trying to pull staples out of my own foot - so I got a few washcloths and tried to clean up the best I could.

He tells me at the appointment that alcohol would clean up the orange stain right up ...


Yeah, NOW I know ...


So I got ready and waited for my very good friend Bonne to come pick me up (thank you again love ...)


And off to the Doctors ...



Got there and the nurse un-mummified me and then I waited for the doc - just me and my swollen foot and sausage like toes in all their jaundiced splendor:

And just for fun - took this disgusting photo of my staples and posted it on Facebook. And - no - it really does not look like the top of my foot does it?

I have no idea why, but as you can see from the photo above - it is my foot - a horribly deformed foot - but yet - still a foot ...

And, again to all who were totally mortified and disgusted with the photo ... You're Welcome!

So, the doc starts to take out the staples with something that looked suspiciously like a set of wire snips.


Hmmmm - that seemed not to bode well ....



He started in and was rather fast, but DANG!!!

IT HURT!!!




And let me tell you - when he snips one and jiggles it and it does not come out, so he JIGGLES IT SOME MORE and it still won't come out ...

Apparently the only option then is to YANK IT OUT WITH A PAIR OF NEEDLE NOSE PLIERS.

When Gary gets home I am going to beat the crap out of him ...

I felt an EXTREME CLOSEUP was in order here ... and again - You're Welcome:

All Done!!!

Can you guess which ones he had problems with? Does the blood that oozed after he cleaned up most of the bloody mess help at all? Hmmm?

And then he broke the news:

"Your foot is too swollen to put a cast on."

I was not really pleased with this pronouncement. He said he would put a soft cast on.


He told me: "That was what I put you in when you first came here."

Oh, yea - you wrapped some cotton around it, a couple of Ace Bandages - AND NOTHING ELSE.


Oh!


Except that Boot - a stainless steel METAL brace thingie that let me walk around on my foot until the surgery.

Apparently that sturdy Boot / Stainless steel METAL brace thingie  is going to be a problem with me wheeling around - impossible to kneel on - thus at the moment my foot is protected by about 2 yards of cotton batting and two ace bandages.

I guess even he thought this might not be enough protection thus started looking around and asked me if he had given me a 'shoe'.

I told him 'No'.

And then he stuck a tubie of cloth of what ever that crap this stuff is - and called it 'good'.

It does not look like any 'shoe' I have ever seen ...


Maybe a sock if you squint ...

He said he would put the cast on next Wednesday and made his exit.

If you note in the photo above - he was not very tidy while making me my newfangled "Soft Cast", but my two ace bandages with Velcro on them were over on a chair in the corner:

I WAS NOT leaving without them, so after foisting myself onto my 'scooter' I drove through the debris to grab them ... and sort of got hopelessly stuck.

TOTALLY WORTH IT.

These things are wunderbar!!

I finally got myself backed out of the debris field and out to the nurses station. I have no idea why she didn't come in like last time and help me out ...

I could have been in there stealing all sorts of bandages, happy feet papers, orthopedic stockinettes, cotton balls ...


Back out to my wonderful friend Bonne and we left.

Since I had a prescription to fill - we decided to go play in Walgreen's so that I could get my prescription then - since I cannot get in a car an navigate myself anywhere.

Toodled around Walgreen's filling my basket with all sorts of goodies while Bonne was off doing her own shopping. We would pass each other every now and then ...

Bought my prescription plus my 'loot' which looked suspiciously like a whole bunch of Disney Princess crap ...

And back to the car.

 I had beat Bonne out of the store - and didn't realize that she had exited when I took this photo - which I hope she won't be mad at me for posting - it was rather LOVELY weather and a pretty blue sky - but, well - she had been so nice to take me to the doctor and all ...

So - I am home now - in nothing but a couple of Ace Bandages ...

This just does not feel right. It has been three weeks since the surgery and still I am not in a cast - at the whim of Charlie jumping on me, or accidentally stepping down on it when trying to sit down and losing my balance on the way - happens ALL the time ...


This is going backwards from what I had this morning.  At least then I had that hard backed thing that came around my leg about 65% and completely covered the bottom of my foot.


Sitting here at my desk I have my foot resting on the floor and in addition to hurting ... it just feels weird.


Getting a cast on next week just feels totally backwards ...


But that does not seem all that odd for me, now does it?