Carpet of Doom.

When I bought my current house it had salmon colored carpet throughout the upstairs.  It had wear marks to show the traffic patterns that were whiter than white and they included the footprints of the prior owner’s feet from getting out of bed each morning.

Talk about something I did not need to picture.

I received a carpet allowance as part of the house deal and I went out in search of Berber.  Light-ish colored, semi-tight looped… dog withstanding carpet.

I bought nearly 1700 square feet of it.

It looked horrible when they installed it as there were strands sticking up all along the walls.  The seams showed way more than any seam should show.  There was a random square cut into the family room in a corner that had to be seamed in… I was hugely disappointed.

I made some phone calls… nothing good ever came of it.  (Home Valu, you don’t stand behind your work and are never getting my business again.)

Then the dog became an issue, then the vacuum.  That carpet snagged if you looked at it crossly and it didn’t just snag, it snagged and RAN.

So, lets say a dog collar with a loop with his tags on it happened to catch… and the dog panicked…

you might just get a whole spool of yarn to wind and a line down the middle of your hallway to show where it came from.

It made me sick to think of how much money it cost to get it and then to see it ruined, and I mean ruined, within a year or so… then reminded of it each time I was in my home.  I’ve lived on my dream carpet turned crap for about 6 years now.

Last night I hacked into that carpet with a knife.  It was kind of a relief to finally be able to give up on trying to save it all.  The downstairs carpet can hopefully be salvaged, but the upstairs is going to be hardwood and tile for all of the high traffic areas and only carpet in the bedroom.

Today when I walked out of the house over where the carpet had been pulled out, I felt like I had finally finished paying for my poor carpet buying skills.

I felt relief.

I felt hope.

I also bought a boot tray and every single one of you are going to take your shoes off on my new flooring and the dog is no longer going to live there.

So there.

S.

Moments of greatness…

I have to admit that I’m a sucker for other people’s moments of greatness.

When I was young I watched from the side of the ice rink in the Target Center during the US Championships as Tanya Harding became the first American woman to land a triple axel in competition.  She’d been amazing during warm-ups, but that was not a guarantee that it would be a solid landing during her performance… but right there on the ice in front of me, she took off and landed in near perfect form.  Sadly, the legacy she left behind has not much to do with her skating, but still… that was a moment of greatness.  I might have cried.

There are so many times and so many ways that we see people really becomes something so much larger than they thought they could be.   I love to see it, hear about it, cheer for it.  I think that we are all capable of it in our own way.

Just in my small hometown two couples have gone through the devastation of ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease.  One fighting for life, and the other finding a graceful way to say goodbye.   I think anyone who can endure and thrive under that kind of heart ache is somehow pushed to greatness just to get through it.   We’ve seen people wage war with cancer, injustice, ‘the sytem’.  People doing their part and more for the children of this community, the animals in this community, the disadvantaged…  I’ve seen volunteerism that would make your jaw drop and generosity that leaves you speechless.

I love the idea of normal people reaching great heights.

Check out Susan Boyle and her moment that I suspect will change her life.

It’s just really amazing how the tone was at the onset, and what it came to be.  I think we’re all a little cynical these days and can’t tell you how sad that really is for me and even more sad to recognize it in myself…

So thank you Susan Boyle and Simon what’s your name, for reminding me to look for greatness, rather than for failure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Says me.

S.

It’s Easter.

The house is quiet with occasional shuffles and shifting of newspaper.  Dogs are not barking.  There is no music, no gaiety, no party.

We were 4 and now we are 3 and we still haven’t quite gotten the hang of this.

While we are not depressed, or morose or even melancholy, we are without her and that is enough to leave the bunny ears in storage today.

I think that it’s time to liven things up a bit, so I’m going to go make some orange juice and see if I can find some champagne.

Mimosa’s for mom seems just about the right answer for today.

Says me.

S.

Pleasant surprises…

Today I found out what a pure release of unexpected joy feels like.

Taxes have been an ongoing issue since being self employed, so for nearly 10 years.  Every year I struggled with estimated taxes, claiming a home office, what does a deduction really look like… why am I still paying points on my mortgage, what is ’self employment tax’ anyway, etc.

This year I was HIRED, yes HIRED, so I had to file self employed for 5 months of the year and the rest as an employee with a home office… big mess.  I hired an accountant.

For months I have been dreading what I viewed as the inevitable and freaking out about where I would find the money to not only pay the accountant, but the taxes she would be telling me I owed.  I’ve been dreaming taxes, breathing taxes, crying taxes.  It’s bad.

Today I dragged my feet and soul into the office to pick up my returns and to pay my dues.

The office assistant pulled out my file and went over my cover letter with me.

To my amazement, I am getting refunds.

Yes, plural.  From both state and feds.

I actually exclaimed, “HOLY CRAP” in the office and made an elderly man jump a little.  I could hear his dentures make that sucking noise.  It was downright shocking news.

Today I felt the joy of unexpected stress release and it was enough to send me running and jumping from their office.

I am joyous.

I know glee.

I am ….

not nearly as broke as I thought I was.

Oh rapture.

ahhhhhh….

Gifts that make us squeal…

What does it say about me that the last gift that made me squeal is a tongs for lifting jars out of a water bath?

… as in a canning implement.

I’m not sure I’m ready to hear the answer to that question.

S.

Jack Sprat…

I’m sure that many of you have heard the following…

Jack Sprat could eat no fat.

His wife could eat no lean.

And so between them both, you see,

They licked the platter clean!

We have two dogs that are under our responsibility.  Old geriatric dog of mine and dad’s little middle aged new favorite daughter.  Mine is battling the war with old age and Brixi is making her prognosis of dead with cancer by December 2008 look like a joke.

I’ve been excited lately as Baxter is months since his last episode of explosive poohs and has actually been putting on a few pounds since he’s keeping his food inside of him a little bit better.  (Not great, he still leaves pooh in inappropriate places if you’re not paying attention, but at least they’re not splatter paint-like in effect.)  He was so bony for a while there it was like looking at skeleton dog, so I’m glad to see less of his ribs and more of his butt.

Brixi on the other hand is growing with leaps and bounds… around her middle.  She is a rolly polly jolly old gal and we’ve taken to calling her Fatty Patty.

I can’t help laugh at our odd couple.  Both on special diets.  One has his movement a bit restricted for the benefit of his hips and the other is now on an exercise regimen with the hopes she’ll trim down enough to fit in the RV for dad’s trip to Alaska in a few months.

He’s decided that as is she would be like having an extra person in the vehicle and that is just TOO many.

I’m too fat to ride a mule in the Grand Canyon and Brixi is too fat to ride in the RV.  We’ll both be amping up our workouts this spring.

It’s a good thing this is all funny or it would all be sad.

Says me.

The moments in between…

I’ve been able to travel more than usual in recent months.  This past year has had me on a plane enough to use and earn a round trip with frequent flier miles in addition to trips up north to Lutsen to ski.

I’m a VERY fortunate individual when it comes to getting around.

I think there are a lot of people in the world that work really hard and get to live in the spaces in between.  For me, it often seems that I’m living all the time and just working in the spaces in between.  Whether or not that is the best answer remains to be seen, but I’ll take it and appreciate it.

At the beginning of the month our family had the chance to hike into the Grand Canyon via the Kiabab trail, spend the night at the Phantom Ranch and then to hike back out again on the Bright Angel trail.  I had never been there before and always had it on my list of things to see, so I went.  I cannot believe how little you hear about the Grand Canyon.

When we arrived at the rim the day prior to our hike I was struck silent by the view.  It is really hard to keep perspective of how large it really is.  From the south to north rim where we were standing spanned over 9 miles across.   That distance makes a helicopter in the middle of it look like a dragon fly.

Trying to put my head around the fact that I was going to walk to the bottom and then back out again just left me feeling slow and overwhelmed.  I found myself standing at the edge just trying to imagine how far down it goes…

You have NO idea how far down it goes.   Hell, I was standing there and I had NO idea how far down it went.

While trying to cheerlead myself into a good head space about the hike ahead of me I heard the most amazing thing…  laughter…. like bells on a breeze.  It brought a HUGE smile to my face so I had to turn around to see where it was coming from and ended up meeting the eye of a woman with bright eyes and a huge grin.

While still laughing she said to me, “Isn’t it just the most amazing thing?”

Yup… it is.  Anything that can shut me up and bring a grown woman to spontaneously laugh like that must be pretty stinking amazing…

and it was.

It was amazing to see the different levels in the rock and dirt, it was amazing to see the trail maintenance teams that walk 2 hours to get to work, often up hill, it was amazing to see the vistas, to see how extensive the trails are, to watch the mules so patiently look at each others butts for hours on end, to realize that the base of the canyon is lush and growing, how much the Colorado river looks like hot chocolate…

it’s amazing how after more than 15 miles of hiking and avoiding mule poop, it all the sudden is the only way to keep your traction on the ice at the top of the Bright Angel trail.

More amazing is the thought of ever putting on those shoes again.  Whew!  My feet looked like hamburger after I was done hiking.

I should have done some more research about what we were going to actually be doing before I went; however, I’m guessing that I might not have gone then, and would have missed how amazing it was.  I have a few little blips about the hiking we did that might give you an idea…

The way down we did the South Kaibab Trail:

Brief Description:	A ridge-following trail that offers spectacular views while decending. Best for decending due to no water along the trail.
Length (approx):	5.62 miles
Starting Elevation:	7188.00 feet
Ending Elevation:	2694.00 feet
Elevation Change:	4494 feet
Average Grade:	21.00%
Trail Head Location:	Yaqui Point
Trail End:	At the River Trail

Then you still have to hike to where you’re going to stay, either the campground or the Ranch… tak on another few miles…

It was gorgeous down there.  We really took our time heading down and spent about 7 or 8 hours on the trail.  We kept stopping to just look at the view, chat with a few people, ponder what the heck we were doing.

The Grand Canyon really jars your perception of where you fit in the grand scheme of things.  It’s a reality check no matter who you are.

To get back out we hiked a couple of miles to the Bright Angel trail head and here’s some info about our ascent.

Brief Description:	This drainage following trail persues an ancient Havasupi Indian route. Camping (permit required), water, and shade at Indian Gardens, 4.5 miles below the rim.
Length (approx):	9.70 miles
Starting Elevation:	6782.00 feet
Ending Elevation:	2519.00 feet
Elevation Change:	4263 feet
Average Grade:	14.00%
Trail Head Location:	North of the Kaibab Lodge and West of the Bright Angel Lodge. Look for stone the burro corral.
Trail End:	Bright Angel Campground

So, how much is 4494 feet of elevation?  Well, a mile is 5280 feet.   We left at about 7am that morning and I made it out in just over 9 hours.  I hiked for 9 hours people.  That still baffles me.

We hiked  over 19 miles in 2 days into a hole nearly a mile deep and back out again.  We are NUTS!

Dad says that we now having ‘bragging rights’ and that about sums it up for me.  I know what I’m capable of.  I can hike… a really long way… at steep grades.  I was not the fast one out there… or even in the middle of the pack… but I did it and that is enough.

I’m not sure if what changed for me in there could be considered scarring or just growth, but either way the Grand Canyon is really something you should try to see if you get the chance.

I’d like to start taking vacations with my family that are NOT based on a dare.  I know it was a whopper when dad called me last week and while giggling asked me, “Hey… do you remember when we went to the Grand Canyon?”…. “Doesn’t that seem like ages ago?”

Um…

No, dad… it doesn’t.  I still have bug bite marks all over my legs and my blisters are still crazy gaping holes in my feet… but I’m glad we had fun.

Says me.

Bermuda back yard?… or sneaky sneak.

My dad likes to use tongs when he’s cooking.  They are highly effective for ribs, deep fat frying, barbecue chicken, corn on the cob, pasta, and nearly everything else.

Because he is always looking for tongs we have long ones, short ones, rubber tipped ones, ones that are strong and some that are flimsy.

We are tong people.

It seems that tongs disappear around here.  One day we have about 6 or 7  that don’t quite fit in the drawer and then the next week we can only find 2 and they are both in the dishwasher.  There have been years that I bought dad sets of tongs for Christmas as my only gift to him.

I still have to wonder where all the tongs go, as I have no recollection of ever having thrown a pair of tongs away.

It’s perplexing… not all consuming, but for sure perplexing.

This week a pair of rusty tongs appeared on the deck.  They were in their closed and locked position and other than the rust, entirely unharmed.

Aliens?

I think not.

Dad’s dog is kind of an odd duck of a dog.  For the past week she has been relocating terracotta pots all over the yard.  She has toys galore… so why in the world is she carrying around my future herb garden?

I’m thinking that if we start following her around the yard we are bound to find about 7 sets of tongs, 2 terracotta pots, 3 beheaded stuffed ‘things’, a half eaten frog that was previously frozen, and more dog dishes than one could comfortably shake a stick at.  We will not find any rabbit poop as that is apparently a doggy delicacy to be eaten upon sight.  (Yes, feel free to gag on that one, it’s so gross.)

I think the mystery of the missing tongs is solved.  I am going to laugh if that is also the answer to why we can never find a grill lighter around either.

Ahhhhh Brixi… you sure are something… or other.

Rain boots.

I have a pair of blue plaid rain boots.   I’m fond of them even though they make my feet sweat more than usual.  I like them for things such as spring poo pick up and anything involving mud as they spray off with a hose and are ready for the next adventure.

I was REALLY excited to find them on sale at a discount store one day. $10 for cute rainboots?  SOLD!

Bargain boots for dirty jobs!  Did I mention they are plaid?

So this year the snow melts, the yard needs de-mining and I went out to get the job done… but alas, my boots were in the city, not at dad’s where I needed them.  I went with the gortex instead.

I was in the city yesterday.  I had my hands on my functional rain boots and I thought, “do I really want to lug these back and forth this week?” and I left them in the box.  (Rubber rain boots are kind of heavy.)

Guess where it’s raining today.

Yeah.  Where the rainboots are not.

Can you guess what that means?

Yup.  Now I for sure need to go to Alaska this summer, as that is where rain boots are made for and I really want to get my money’s worth of usage out of them.

Venison sticks… circa 2005…

The other day I saw some venison sticks in the freezer wrapped up in butcher paper and thought to myself…

“Oooh!  Now there’s a treat!”

Today I went to pull a few out since Fred was having a bloody mary and there is nothing like having a full meal in your cocktail.  Pickle, olives, meat stick, the works.

I re-read the stamped on description to confirm, yes, they were tasty venison sticks and then the horror… a second stamp saying November, 2005.

But they are tasty venison sticks!!

We ate them anyway, so if later either of us collapse to the floor, start vomiting uncontrollably or make a mad dash for the bathroom; that is why…

venison sticks circa 2005.