Pig in a Blanket

Ours has been a house of various plagues this week, to tell you the truth I'm surprised the health department hasn't shut us down . . . or quarantined us . . . or culled us.

Anyhow, we're in survival of the fittest mode, and when it's like that I just can't give you chicken updates. I can, however, provide you with riveting visuals of our aging hiefer hound who insists on sleeping on the softest and highest points in the house that her stubby legs can heave her to. She also likes a blanket for swaddling. Oh to be a dog! One round of grass and voila! You have an episode of puking on the lawn, you lick it back up and you're good as gold.

God Bless the Wild Beasts

I went outside to take some snap shots of our bountiful garden but Maggie followed me out and ended up distracting me with her smooshy face. Poor hiefer got her lip stuck up in her cheek. When I pointed it out to her, she got all sensitive on me. Too late for sensitivity. Lordy, I have a stomach ache from laughing at this hairy pooch.

She's a lot like Tova: doesn't speak much English and smells a little funny.

Despite the language barrier, though, you gotta help a sister out when her face gets lopsided. It's kind of like not telling a perfect stranger that she has a piece of broccoli stuck in her two-front teeth. It's the right thing to do.

This one, though . . . sheesh, this one huffy breathed at me and then acted like she had some other business to attend to. Somehow Surfin' DJ next door is, you know, just so very meaningful for a Bassett Hound with collagen deficiencies to monitor.

She tried to ignore my guffaws. She tried, but I was really rolling on the ground by now because a Bassett Hound is just one of those types of creatures that once you start laughing about 'em you can't even bring yourself to stop. Even now I have a little chuckle in me, ooh owww my abs.

Her lip had almost completely plopped out of her mouth, but she still wouldn't give me any eye contact. She was rankled. A wrinkled and rankled stubby legged cow of a dog.

Back to the lip tuck trick. Do you think she does in on purpose?

And then suddenly, she flopped to the ground (2-inches below her floppy belly).

Turns out she was just trying to work in her daily exercise. Treadmill is in the shop, don't ya know.

Pilates, mostly she does pilates.

This is one of her favorite yoga poses, though, it's called Side Down Dog.

It's a good thing she stays in such good shape. She has her work cut out for her, all that protecting of eggless chickens from nightly raids by coyotes.

This is her ab workout. I believe she calls this one Upward Facing Dog with Toe Touch, the toe touch is for added difficulty -- of course. Maggie LOVES to feel the burn.

Don't let your eyes betray you, this nose to the ground maneuver quite honestly requires years of training and dedication.

Post work-out C-Shaped Stretch.

Then snap up to four paws to do the final Shake Off.

It's imperative to engage the ears and lips in a bidirectional trajectory, otherwise the work-out is pointless.

And lastly, stare regally off into the distance with your lip untucked and your muscles bulging. That, my friends, is how you dissuade mockery and laughter while gaining respect of mammals everywhere.

PS - Her 10th birthday is 12/07/2010; send bones, bricks of unsalted butter (she's watching her blood pressure), organic crunchy peanut butter, fluffy pillows, and loaves of freshly baked bread.

Desperation

Back when Tovey was a teeny-tiny and wouldn't take bottles from Daddy while I was doing my long nights at the hospital, Tova manage to find solace in a battered old baby blanket of mine. The blanket, which I named Mankee (pronounced main-key), is as old as I am. He, Mankee is after all a boy, cuddled me on countless occasions quieting my prickly nervous system as I waded through playground disasters and boy troubles and even an occasional college mishap. Mankee maintained his lovely bright yellow rectangle shape, lovingly knitted by my recently departed Grandma Peg (this is the grandma for whom Tova is named!). No wonder Baby Tova took to this relic of love and peace and comfort, Tova and Mankee -- meant for each other.

Sadly, these days, Mankee is more of a mangled and knotted lump of entangled 70's yellow and orange yarn. I sometimes think the only thing holding dearest Mankala together are those knots. But Tova doesn't mind one bit. As she dozes off to sleep at night or when she's stressed and needing a little loving, she sticks her head into Mankee's big gaping holes and fixes her fingers through small openings in Mankee's ragged flash. Then she'll press Mankee tenderly to her cute nose and inhale Mankee's pheremones. Quickly her eyes will roll back in her head, a little drool with dribble from the corner of her mouth and she has become serene.

You just can't give away your baby/childhood/teenage blanket! This is a perfect and very natural transition for my old pal. However, given Mankee's current health issues, my mother sought fit to knit Tova a new blanket. This new blanket, lovingly knit just like Mankee Sr, has been renamed Gwamma Blankie by Tova and instead of replacing Mankee it appears that Mankee has become the mentor for Gwamma Blankie. Instead of fresh and taught Gwamma Blankie accompanying Tova to school (where she stays in Tova's backpack until naptime), Mankee still assumes nap duty with Gwamma Blankie filling in as the role of Robin to Mankee's Batman. In fact, both are frequently snuck into Tova's toddler backpack by a sympathetic older sibling where the two blankies bulge out willy-nilly but happily fulfilling their baby soothing duties.

Attempts to fix Mankee, to piece Mankee back together with new knots and knits and stitching, have all failed and alas Mankee has become even more jumbled and knotted and therefore, even more loved. Given the fragility of Mankee's loose strings and 33-year old yarn, and also recognizing that Mankee was with us for better or worse, my mother brought us a mesh bag designed for washing intimates. Much to Tova's horror, we place Mankee and Gwamma Blankie in that bag together for a good routine washing. After soaking through her diaper last night (Lars was in charge, I was at work), Mankee was pungent and terribly needful of a cold cycle.

Though I tried, unlatching Tova's curled fingers from Mankee's impaired physique as she slept sweetly, her sympathetic nervous system went into flight-or-fright mode and she thundered at me to cease and desist. I, somewhat taller and stronger than Tova, won that worrisome tug-of-war (worrisome because it's hard to imagine Mankee can take much more abuse without pouffing up into a big fluff cloud). I quickly threw Tova's blanket friends into the intimates bag and hit go on our washer. This brought her to near hysterics as she watched the carnage ensue from her spot perching just outside the washing machine. Her face contorted with absolute worry and sorrow.

And now, I have a sleepy baby restlessly pining for her Mankee, ohhhhh Mankee, MankeeMankeeMankee, little fingers searching for a substitute at the fringe on the scarf around my neck, imploring me to bring her fuzzy yellow buddy back from the brink.

Treacherous Mommy. Traitor.

Goodbye Old(ish) Friend

Dearest Vee Dubby,
The other day, when your transmission went gorky as I was pulling into oncoming traffic and you wouldn't go into first . . . well, you came through for me. You did your darndest, thunked into first after a harrowingly long interval and then sputtered me off the in the right direction. I'm sorry for what happened after that, and well after that and after that and even after that. Fact is, Dubby Dude, you're better off now. I appreciate the way you made me look cool, the way you perched me high above all the other cars so I could see their drivers texting and driving, the way you fit 2-surfboards, one Bassett Hound with a window phobia, and four children (two of whom are very prone to motion sickness) all in your muy fabulosa back seats.

Okay, so here it goes: I'm sorry we decided to sell you to Henry and Kate, I'm sorry we decided to replace you with a brand new 2007 fully loaded (cloth seats, no DVD) shiny Honda Odyssey, I'm sorry it didn't work out. I miss you, I care about you and I want good things for you.

Live long and prosper. May the spirit always be with you. May your new transmission, put in by your new ma and pa, be everything you've ever dreamed of.

XOXO,
K-Mama

Bionic Arm Days

Soren sustained a fracture in his right hand while riding a bike at a birthday party (I won't go into anymore detail for fear of embarrassing the parents of the birthday boy). To tell you the truth, Soren was really stoked about his bright green cast and all his new super powers (mega handball serves, weapon like abilities for threatening sisters, etc). His pain was also immediately relieved when the cast went on.

Much to his dismay, the cast did have to come off. That was yesterday. He was a little nervous about the circular saw bit, so he got a quick tutorial from this totally straight-laced guy here.

And away he went . . .

It was very noisy.

And a little scary!

He could finally tie his shoes again!

Then we had to wait for x-ray. Tova was exceptionally disturbed by it all and explained to Soren, in arresting detail, how "Guy. Cut. It. Cut. Cut. Cut. Soren owie? See me arm?".

So, Soren showed her his poor little dirty arm. There was a piece of artificial turf stuck to it, other than that he was good to go. We go back next week for another follow-up.

Reconciliation

Let's make-up and be friends again, okay?

Half Dozen I've missed you, so let's give it another go around.

Since September 27th all sorts of stuff has gone forth -- and more not. I'll list a few things, but because I don't want to spoil future posts (yes! future posts!) I'm not givig it all up.

1) Annike's kindergarten teacher wants her to do 1st grade part-time
2) Petra completed a fantastic first competetive gymnastics season, made it to sectionals, where she fell off the beam (her best event) and she still scored high enough that she qualified for the State Meet coming up mid-November
3) our beloved bus broke
4) I'm sadly not expecting
5) I delivered a breech baby
6) our Mildred and Thelma still have not laid one darn egg
7) we were completely surrounded by howling coyotes last night
8) Tova uses the potty with 50% accuracy
9) Lars and I went on a date
10) Soren is no longer damaged goods . . . (see next post)