Tuesday, July 29, 2008


Grrr, I am sooo frustrated, it is almost midnight and I have wasted the last 2 hours, tearing apart my house looking for something and I still havn't found it!!! I hate it when I open a closet or drawer, and the thing I am looking for is not there! I am one of those anal organized people who always lives by the following mantra "there's a place for everything and everything in it's place." I always put things away, well almost always. Apparently, occasionaly I lose things, like this shoulder bag, backpacky type thing that I can't find. I am going on a little "girl's retreat" tomorrow for a couple of days and we are planning a hike. Since Marty won't be there to carry the big back pack with all the supplies, I planned to bring my little shoulder bag. I gathered up the bear spray, a water bottle, some kleenex, a couple zip lock bags, a knife and some other essentials and carried them upstairs. I piled the stuff on the floor, ready to pop it all into the bag, opened the closet door and....no bag to be found. Wait, that is inaccurate, there were plenty of bags, duffle bags, Lulu Lemon bags, mesh bags, sleeping bags, and handbags, but no green MEC shoulder bag. I closed the closet door, paused for a minute and then opened the door again, only to dig through all of the bags I had just seen. Am I the only one who does that? Goes through the whole process of lifting everything up again, moving everything again, dumping everything out again, because I am sure I must have missed it the first time? I doubt it, everyone does that, but I do it three or four times. I find myself in this trance of denial, I refuse to look anywhere else, there is no where else it could be, it has to be in this closet! Ofcorse anyone who knows me, knows that my search always starts out peaceful enough, me opening the closet, gently moving things around a little, sighing with minor frustration, then closing the closet, but it always escalates to the point where I am slamming closet doors, tossing things around and having a loud, whiny verbal fit involving several unpleasant four letter words. I am angry with no one, except the bag for not being in the damn closet. Then I hear the TV downstairs, where Marty is laying on the couch, relaxing, enjoying some down time after a day of work, unaware that the bag is not in the closet. For no logical reason this annoys me, here I am suffering severe frustration and rage and there he is, holding down the couch without a care in the world. I start thinking, "if it were him that lost something, I'd help him look for it, I'd join in the random search for the missing object, or at least I'd empathize, with a 'sorry honey, I don't know where it could be'. " Eventually he can't ignore me running up and down the stairs, slamming drawers and closet doors anymore and he starts asking if I've checked in different places, "Did you check the coat closet downstairs? Did ya look in your car? How about the garage?" This is NOT what I was looking for in terms of his participation in my quest! My frustration with the bag, turns to frustration with Marty, why doesn't he get off the couch and help me look, like that would magically make the bag appear. The beautiful thing about Marty is that he doesn't get excited like I do, he doesnt' engage me when I am in a fury like this, he just lays on the couch, watching his stupid Deep Sea Fishing show, until I eventually, surrender and admit defeat in my search. I decide that the bag is gone forever and the only choice i have is to move on with my life. This is the point in the game where Marty decides to get off the couch, and do a little quiet searching of his own. I know that he is secretly hoping he can be the hero and find the bag for me, actually I am too, but unfortunately this time, Marty also comes up empty handed. Damn it, I really need that bag!
I hate loosing stuff, like I said, that doesn't usually happen to me. Marty is the same, we are both really good at putting stuff where it goes, especially important stuff, like passports. I know that mine is in my underwear drawer, that is where I went to find it for our trip, and that is exactly where it was. Stuff like that, like finding things when I know where they are, makes me happy, it really is the little things eh?
I have lost a couple of important things though. When my Grandpa passed away we were each given 1000$. I remember that I planned to use half of it to buy hay for my horses and the other half, I put in a safe spot, under my mattress. I refused to put it in the bank, because I figured I'd spend it, i wanted to just save it! I moved the money several times due the fact that my living arrangements have changed often. I remember at one point moving the money to my wood shed, and I also remember hiding it in the motorhome i lived in while my house was being built. When it came time to leave the motorhome, I couldn't find the money! I looked everywhere, in every pocket of every shirt, in every boot, in every cup and thermos, in the fridge and freezer, in all of my favorite hiding spots, but I couldn't find it! I went as far as taking all of the wood out of the shed, and putting it all back in hopes of finding that 5oo bucks! That was almost 5 years ago now and I have once again had to surrender the search and admit that the money is gone forever, but I am not gonna lie, every now and then I put on some boots I havn't worn in a long time and expect the money to be stashed way down in the toe.

I gotta get to bed, it is well after midnight and the bag is obviously not going to fall into my lap. Guess I'll put all the hiking gear into the big backpack, the one that is stained with Marty's salty sweat, and be a big girl and carry it myself on the hike!
Since I'll be in Radium until Friday, I wont' be able to update this blog until after the weekend. Here's hoping we all have some fantastic adventures!

Monday, July 28, 2008

Dirt Face

I couldn't wait to get out to the stable to see Dirt Face today. Yep, my horses' name is Dirt Face! He was named after the character, Dirty Steve, swho was sometimes referred to as Dirt Face, in the movieYoung Guns, by my ex and though I tried to change the name several times, Dirt Face stuck and he is now lovingly referred to as Dirt.
It has been ten days since I've seen him (we were on holidays) and I was afraid he might have forgotten about me. I hollered into the pasture, glad no one else was around, I'm sure I sound stupid walking out into the middle of a herd of horses yelling the word "dirt"at the top of my lungs. He looked up mouth full of grass, took a look at me, his ears perked up and he started coming towards me! He remembered me...or at least he remembered the treats I always carry with me. As he sauntered towards me, I smiled, thinking about how much I have grown to love this horse. He isn't the prettiest horse I've owned, nor is he the most talented, nor the smartest and he certainly isn't the most well bred, but he is mine, he is loyal and I love him! We've been through a lot over the last 8 years together and not once has he complained. Not when he left the huge farm he was raised on until he was 4 and came to live on my acreage with me, not when I dragged him off to the mountains for four days, 2 weeks and a handful of rides after getting him. He didn't protest when I wanted to change his name to KU-JO after he bit a kid riding a pony in the mountains (the attempt at the name change didn't stick.) Dirt never muttered a word about having to move off my acreage to move to my friends' Connie and Craig's place to live with Shadow and Ed and Twinkie, not a peep out of him when he moved away from there to another acreage in Pigeon Lake where he shared a pasture with a couple of other geldings and a donkey named Sausage. Dirt moved back to Sylvan with me, where he had to live on a tiny acreage in the rapidly growing beach town, surrounded by never ending new home construction and hammering. Dirt, without a fuss, made one last move, to the stable on the outskirts of Calgary where he shares a pasture with his new buddies Graffitti and Mozart and a few bullies like Finnagan.
Dirt took his pulminary ventilators like an angel when he got heaves from eating off of a round bale, he stood patiently while my girlfriend Jenn and I tried to "team trim" his hooves, (I held his foot up while Jenn used two hands to work the nippers.) He bravely stayed in a stall (new experience) and trotted a thousand circles (though he'd never been asked to go in a circle before) when I wanted to ride him in a clinic in Red Deer! Yep, Dirt has been one hell of a trooper.
That being said, you gotta know, that he has complained about plenty of other things, mostly loading in trailers and being tied up! You should see him pull when he is tied to...anything! He usually ends up breaking ropes and summersaulting backwards out of trailers, down driveways and through yards. In fact his pulling got so bad that when I took him to a mountain camp, it became consencous that he should be "broke of that habit." We put all kinds of "gears and pullies" on him, tied him to a big post and proceeded to antagonize him with a tarp. Our goal was to get him to pull and then all the ropes and pullies would tighten making things uncomfortable for him and hopefully he would figure out that when he pulls, life sucks! We waved the tarp in the air, Dirt pulled and pulled and after about 10 minutes we were all exhausted. I have no idea if this production cured Dirt of pulling, I refuse to tie him. He and I, we have an agreement, if I dont' tie him, he'll promise to stand as long as I want him to without moving. It has worked incredibly well for us. I can leave him stand with the reins on the ground while I go in the house, make a snack, blow my nose and have a pee, he'll still be standing right where I left him when I come out! He's stood while I've spent time in outhouses, digging in the trunk of my car, pitching tents and setting up camps. The "not being able to be tied up" thing doens't bother me and Dirt, it just bugs every other horseman we come into contact with. See, that's the way it is with horse people, they always want to slove problems, they always know "just the thing for that," but Dirt and I don't have a problem, we're happy, we've learned to co-exisist!
Dirt will happily move forward in a straight line with his head down for as long as I want him to. He is not the best at turning, or backing up or bending, flexing or any other fancy moves, but hell, if you wanna go straight forward, he is the horse to be on and I love him!!!

Dirt Face, around the edges your a little rough
but through it all you've been tough!
You started out as a baby everyone thought was too small
but your heart has proven to be nothing like that at all!
You've been with me through the lows and highs
and a pile of relationships with guys.
You never shake your head at the mistakes I've made, or the ones in sight
You simply move to your next home, (loading in the trailer is your only fight.)
You've had to stay in pastures with donkeys and eaten off a round bale
you've been kicked and bit and had your lungs fail
when I was busy you were left in pastures, alone to long
but through it all you've stayed loyal and strong!
You've never complained or pleaded a case
for being the horse that you are, I love you, Dirt Face!

ok so the poem isn't that good, but I am getting tired, it is 12:30am Toronto time and I am still ticking by that clock! Good night!

Home at last!!!

We made it! We are home after 10 days exploring some of the eastern provinces of our Country. I am glad I got to see that part of Canada, but I am so happy to be home, in the west where I love it! Funny how travelling like that can make you appreciate "home" wherever that might be. It's also funny the things you miss, I mean there are the usual things most people miss, family, friends, pets and sleeping in your own bed, but then there are the things you miss that give you a little insight into just who you are. In addition to missing my family, friends and Dirt Face, I missed running on my own favorite paths, the ones without dog poop. Would you believe that in Montreal no one cleaned up thier doggy doo? It was smeared all over the sidewalks, disgusting. In Toronto most people scooped the poop, tied the little plastic bag shut and hung it on the nearest conveniant fence. I saw parks where the entire perimeter fence was decorated with filled up doggy doo bags, ewwww! I now appreciate how clean and dog poop free Calgary is! I missed driving my jetta. Public Transit is a pretty cheap way to get around, but it is also a crowded and hot and kinda scary. We also recieved many dirty looks for having our huge luggage with us the majority of the time we rode the busses and subway. Our bags were too big for the aisles which made it difficult for people to get by which caused frustration, which made me feel uncomfortable. Marty was great at figuring out where we needed to get off, but some of the bus drivers were less than helpful and they would yell at us, making me feel like a kid getting into trouble!!! I missed baking, I know it is weird that I love to bake so much, but I do and I really missed being in the kitchen. Don't get me wrong, the breakfasts we were served at the B&B in Montreal were incredible, but at the hotel, we had to pay 13.75$ for cereal!!!!! I finally went to Superstore and bought a big box of Special K! I missed texting, man I didn't even think I texted that much, but whenever something funny would happen, I'd reach for my phone to text my friends and share the laugh, but I didn't even bring my phone!!!
We only got to see a small portion of each city, but here is my overview:
Montreal: loved the opportunity to speak french, even though I was kinda shy.
Dirty, ewww, like really dirty, the streets, the buildings, everything and the people were less friendly.
Too much smoking, everyone smoked and as far as I could tell, no one exercised!
Interesting culture, especially in "The Village" and fun night life.
Ottawa: loved how clean and crisp everything was.
Loved the parks, the water, the canals and the rivers were beautiful.
Active people everywhere, jogging, biking, walking!
Totally geared towards tourists, very friendly people and made us more aware of our canadian heritage! We left Ottawa feeling proud to be Canadian!
Toronto: We were actually in North York, so there were no Starbucks, or Tim Horton's in sight, no Mac's stores or even gas stations within walking distance....weird how now that I live in the city, that seems inconveniant!
Fairly friendly people, hockey hall of fame is a great family place and you gotta eat at Wayne Gretzky's, we did!!!

We had a great time on vacation and the wedding was a blast! I am happy to be home though, and I am chomping at the bit to get out and see Dirt, so I'm gonna run. I am still trying to figure out how to put more than one picture, small pictures on here. I tried to include a couple today of the hockey hall of fame!

Thursday, July 24, 2008


What? Did I just see a cow dressed up as Ronald McDonald? I wish you guys could see this and if I hadn't lost the cable allowing me to empty my pictures daily from my camera onto my computer, I would post a picture of it for you to see!
Tonight is the stag for the "groom to be", the reason we are here in Toronto. Marty is out with the boys and I have been left to "entertain myself." I am actually happy to have some time to just explore the area near our hotel. We happen to share a street corner with the McDonald's corporate offices. The building is tall and beautiful as far as buildings go. I mean the lawn is immaculate and the McDonald's Corporate sign, no it's not a big yellow M, stands proudly, surrounded by beautiful flowers. Then just when you are wondering if this could really be McDonalds, THE McDonalds, you see, right at the entrance to the building a giant, statue of a yellow cow wearing big read shoes and a red hat! All doubt fades and you know for sure, this can only be THE McDonalds!! The whole thing seemed quite random, now if I were in Calgary, a statue of a cow wouldn't seem quite so "out there" but this, well this was just weird, made me laugh out loud! Seems a shame that Marty wasn't there to see it and share in the laugh and now I can't even share it with you since the picture is stuck inside my camera!!!!
Damn, I thought I was being so clever bringing that camera cord. I figured it is best to empty the card onto the computer daily incase somethig should happen to my camera, then at least I'd have most of the pictures of the trip. Our van got broken into in May while we were in Kelowna and our camera got stolen, along with a lot of other things! I was heart broken about the camera, all the pictures we had taken, were gone. The ones I was saddest about losing were the ones Marty had taken of me in my adorable lulu lemon running skirt (b-day gift from my sisters) and matching top that I had worn to run the 1/2 marathon in Penticton in the day before. The race itself was horrific for me, but the outfit made me look like a superstar, or at least I imagine it did, I wouldn't know for sure since the camera was stolen!
Hey, that reminds me, I had another camera stolen once. I was actually selling it at our Garage sale. I had it sitting on one of the tables with the memory card, battery charger and all the cords. I had gotten a newer one and was hoping to get at least 100 bucks for this one. A lady had been checking it out, she'd asked me a couple of questions about it and then left. I noticed she had come back later and was talking to Marty about it. He left her looking at the camera, and came to ask me if I still had the box for it. I figured she wanted to know and that he was asking for her, but ofcorse I didn't have the box, I am not one of those people who keeps the original wrapping for every purchase I make. Marty, on the other hand IS! Wow, you should have seen the boxes he produced when we were packing to move him out of his Red Deer house! He must have had a whole room dedicated to "box storage!" I mean it, he had the box for his TV, for his microwave, for his pots and pans, lamps, dishes, hell, he still had the little cardboard dividers in the box for his mugs, unbelievable!!! Anyway, when marty and I finished talking about the camera box, the lady was gone and so was the camera! Who does that? Who steals from a garage sale????? Grrrr!
Today we went to the hockey hall of fame and we got to see the Stanly Cup and a whole lot of other hockey memorabilia! It was fun to see Marty so excited about everything, he was like a little kid, it was adorable! He played the virtual shooting games, tried to "call a came" and played "producer." He had a lot of fun and I had fun watching him have fun! I also took a trip down memory lane, remembering how fun it was to watch Oilers hockey with my dad. He'd get so wound up, he'd stamp his feet and yell, it was really exciting back then, when the Oilers had Gretzky!
The weather has been crappy the whole time, but tomorrow they are calling for sunshine, here's hoping!!!
Since I couldnt' post a new picture, and most of you are probably tired of the deer's ass, I have posted a picture of Marty and I huddling in a phone booth to escape the rain, it is from Montreal, since I could access those pictures.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


Is this art..because to me it looks just like a lady with her feet stuck up a deer's ass! How does this even happen? How does Bambi's sister wind up with a woman's lower limbs lodged in her hind quarters and how the hell does it end up in an art gallery in Canada's capital city??? Crazy! I certainly don't claim to be an art expert in any way, shape or form, but...wow! This comment was not meant to offend the "artist" but was simply the observations of an uneducated tourist trying to be scholarly by checking out a museum while on vacation.....

Another thing I don't understand: Hotel Room bathrooms. Why do they make them sooo small and why not put fans in them??? How often are hotel rooms shared by couples? Often enough that hotel chains should splurge on fans for the bathroom!!! It's not the possibility of foul smells that worries me, by now I am used to that. It is the possibility of hearing "sound affects" that makes me uncomfortable! I know, I know, everyone farts, and I've heard Marty "toot" before and he has most definately heard me, we are at the point in our relationship where that isn't a big deal! It's just that, for some reason, I don't like him to hear me when I am having "magic," (yes that is what we like to call it.) Even at home, whether there are going to be "bells and whistles" or not, I walk in the bathroom, turn on the fan and relax! Here though, I feel like I need to turn on the TV, or crank the air conditioning, do anything to create white noise so that I can feel like Marty can't hear me....weird, I know, but true!
On top of all of that, does anyone else find it nearly impossible to shave your legs in such tiny showers? I am not sure Marty actually appreciates the balancing act required to get silky smooth legs while on vacation! The whole process usually involves standing on my very tip toes to reach the shower head in an effort to redirect the water that is always pouring out of the nozel at an irritating angle, an angle that causes the water to wash away the shaving cream as soon as it has been lathered on my leg. Unfortunately the shower heads are often NOT adjustable, and if they are, there is usually only one angle, (the irritating one it was already at,) where water doesnt spray out of the shower all over the bathroom floor! This creates the puzzle of figuring out exactly which way I can stand, lean over, take a swipe with the razor, rinse it off and go back for my next "swipe" before the water sprays off the shaving cream that is left on the part of the leg that I havn't yet shaved. I hate it when the cream gets washed off before I actually get to shave, how the heck am I supposed to know where I've already shaved????? See what I mean, it is complicated!!!!

Enough complaining! Our room at the Indigo Hotel is very nice and despite the lack of fan, we have a very loud TV and an air conditioner that rattles at a deafning pitch.....perfect!

Monday, July 21, 2008


Meat, don't worry this has nothing to do with our experience in "Gay Friendly" Montreal, but rather with actual meat,like the kind you eat...uh you know what I mean!
So, Marty's buddy was in Montreal earlier this spring for the Grand Prix, and he was introduced to Schwart's Deli, which, he insisted we needed to check out. So, after spending the morning as tourists in the underground city (translation: "hours of walking"), we hopped on the metro and got off at the station we thought would be closest to this infamous deli. Marty is fantastic at navigating the transportation systems, thank God, because as most of you know, I am not!!! Anyway, we got off at a metro stop and started walking, and walkin, all up hill mind you, until we started to smell meat and see a line up! The smell of red meat, blood, really, was strong and it filled the air as we got closer and closer to the line up. By the time we got there our feet were sore, mine because they were stuffed into these totally adorable , yet completely un-practical, Walmart Buckle shoes and Marty's, because his feet supported not only the weight of his 6 foot 4 frame but also the weight of the backpack on his back, the one that held all the things his girlfriend (me), figured a tourist could possibly need while exploring a new city. All we wanted was a sandwhich and a cold drink, but....to our dismay food and drink was a LONG wait away! There were two line ups and if you gave the vagrant standing between the two lines some change in his paper cup, he'd tell you which line was for "take out," and which was for "dine in". I dropped a couple of quarters in his cup and he pointed to the "take out" line, which was just as long as the "dine in" line. We stood there in awe as a butcher came out every few minutes to invite a handfull of customers into the deli! I could not believe people lined up at this little hole in the wall establishment like it was a Starbucks!!! I wish it smelled like a Starbucks! Eventually we made our way inside the very crowded, sweaty store. We stood facing the counter and the butchers slicing meat, taking orders and building sandwhiches. It was loud and everybody seemed to be yelling! Since I could barely see over the counter, Marty ordered two smoked meat sandwhiches for himself and a turkey one for me. This was no Subway, sure they made the sandwhiches right in front of you, but you didn't have any choices, there was no bread choice, no lettuce and no sauces. What you get a Schwart's deli is this: a HUGE hunk of meat in between two TINY pieces of white bread, that is it, no more, no less! They wrap the sandwhiches tightly in waxed paper, toss them in a paper bag and send you on your way as fast as possible. We emerged from the caos in search of a quiet bench, anticipating biting into the best sandwhiches on earth! Gotta admit, if you like meat, these sandwhiches are tops. I have never seen sooo much meat on one sandwhich, ever! I admit it was way too much meat for me, nearly made me gag, but once I fed some of it to the pigeons, I was able to enjoy it, no one can say I havn't had enough protein today!

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Chicks kissing!

Bonjour, alo, bonjour! I am writing you from Montreal, where, within our first hour here, we saw two girls kissing....EACHOTHER!!!! I am not homophobic or anything, it's just that I have little experience with same sex couples! I am getting used to the very public displays of affection though, between both male couples and female ones, it is common occurance here in the "Gay Friendly" (the tour book's words, not mine) part of Montreal, where Marty, unknowingly, booked us into a B&B! The B&B is adorable though, and there is another couple staying here too, a lovely, gay male couple...yes, we have become a minority couple!!

After getting over the initial shock this part of town can present to two people who have just left "Red Neck" Alberta, we headed down to Sainte Catherine Street where the "Just for Laughs Festival" was in full swing! There were street performers, mini shows and comedians everywhere! We found a big stage where a Break Dancing competition was happening, that's right a Break Dancing competition! This was fantastic! 2 teams of guys dressed in baggy jeans, long T-Shirts and backwards baseball caps, would come on stage. Each team would take a side and the host would say into the mic, "DJ, drop the beat!" I loved that part, "DJ, drop the beat!" Then one guy would go to the middle of the stage, bust some incredible moves, dance over to the opposing team, raise his arms as if to say, "let's see what you got!" and the next dancer would take the stage! It was fantastic, those guys are good, the way they can spin themselves on one hand is amazing! Just as I finally got a spot in the front where I could actually see, the skies opened up and it started to pour rain! We took refuge in a pub, but after a couple blond pilsners and a couple glasses of red wine, we realized the rain wasn't gonna quit! We decided to make a break for it and head back to our "Gay Friendly" B&B.

Tonight we have tickets to see Jimmy Falon, should be fun!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Stampede Recovery Week-Day 4

As part of my "fit back into my jeans" plan, I got up early, squeezed into my sports bra (somehow it seems to have gotten awfully small), strapped on my ipod (did ya ever notice how much the arm-band on those things smell?), slid my feet into my running shoes (the only thing that seems to still fit the same) and hit the road for one of my bi-monthly "long run". YES, I did wear pants, while I didn't mention them, (there is nothing funny about how they fit, yeeesh) don't assume I was out there jogging the streets of Calgary bottemless, I do have more class than that...ha! Anyway, the capri pants I did have on, didn't have pockets so I had to stuff two carefully folded kleenexes into my already too snug sports bra, no not to add "volume" to my chest, but rather as a precaution. I have this tendancy on long runs, to get as far away from all indoor plumbing as possible, and then suddenly be overcome by this raging sense of...uh..welll, need for "use" of indoor plumbing. More than once I have found myself in a situation that has forced me to take refuge in the ditch. By "take refuge," I mean, look for anything that might provide shelter from the vehicles passing by on the road, squat behind it, inconspicuously "relieve" myself, reach for whatever weed is available as a wiping tool, use it, and dash out of the ditch before being noticed....not always successfully! Yes, it is as embarrassing and as awkward as it sounds, but, when I remember the kleenex, the entire experience, somehow, seems way less uncomfortable!! Today, day 4 of Stampede Recovery Week, I remembered the kleenex, but I can thankfully report, that I did NOT need to use it today. I made it all the way home without needing a "bathroom break" yay me!!!

My long run was followed by a shower, breakfast and a trip out to the farm to help Jamie "doctor" Panda again. Today, I was determined to administer the needle with success on my own, without the help of the Farmer. Not because he is arrogant in his offerings to help, but because my own ego needed to prove I could do something as simple as give a horse 35ml of Penicillan! With confidence I jabbed the penicillan filled needle into Panda's neck, while he stood there perfectly still and co-operative. I am telling you, this horse is the perfect patient for two novice vet assistant "wann-bes" like Jamie and I. I pushed on the syringe and the first 10ml drained easily from the needle, however just as I was beginning to feel confident, all flow stopped!!! Nomatter how hard I pushed I couldn't make it go. With a sense of total defeat, I asked the farmer to come show us what we were doing wrong, seriously though, how many ways are there to give a needle? He watched me choose a new site on Panda's neck in the proper "stabbing zone" and stick the needle in, same problem, nothing was coming out the other end. He took over the syringe, but couldn't make progress either, funny how his failure made me feel good...hey he couldn't do it either! After some investigating, he decided the needle was too small, ah ha, it wasn't my incompetency after all!! He lent us a bigger needle and showed us one more time how to do it, but this time, he pushed way to fast and wherever all that penicillan is supposed to go, got full and it started to come back out of the hole where the needle was! Panda, our perfect patient, threw his head in pain and the farmer ripped the needle out, while penicillan dripped down the neck that was already showing signs of a big lump! "Make sure you go slow next time you do it," were his last words of advice as he left us rubbing poor Panda's neck feeding him cookies to ensure that he would forget about this experience! Here's hoping he has a short memory!

I have only had a couple of pedicures in my life and usually so much time goes by between each one that I forget what the experience is like. I like the idea of it though, it my mind it sounds like something...glamourous, like something ladies do on a lazy afternoon to pamper themselves while sipping wine. Jamie and I had side-by side appointments at 2pm this afternoon. We strolled into the joint and our senses were overcome with the smell of .....chemicals. I tried to ignore it and remember how glamourous and pampering this was gonna be. We chose our colors, i wanted a sparkly pink polish and Jamie chose some shade of peach. We were ushered over to the big chairs. There were four of them, all in a row. I sat in my chair, put my feet in the warm mini jet tub and started hitting buttons on the remote I found in the armrest pocket. The chair immediately began folding itself in half...while I was sitting in it! The sounds coming from it were loud and obnoxious! The pedicure ladies, all four of them, started yelling at me in a language I didn't understand, until finally, one of them stood up, grabbed the remote, stopped the chair and pointed to the three buttons, the only three buttons I was supposed to touch. They were labled: rolling, kneading and tapping. This was a "massage chair" and these were my three options for massage! The "tapping" option felt like there was someone inside the chair whose job was to reach out and punch me in the back at random intervals, no thank you! The kneading and rolling felt the same, like giant hands grabbing every sore spot on my torso and pushing on them as hard as possible, while I noticed an "intensity button" that would probably have made the whole "kneading and rolling" option more pleasant, I dared not push it. When I couldn't take the pain any more, I simply turned the chair off and sat there staring at the poor girl assigned to rub my feet. My feet are gross, they are the feet of someone who has trained for, and run three 1/2 marathons this summer, the feet of someone who refuses to wear socks, especially in cowboy boots and they are the feet of someone who, apparently keeps her toenails obsessivly short! I had no idea how weird my super short toe nails were until the lady scraping all the dirt out from under them, pointed it out, huh, who knew? Now anyone who knows me, knows that sitting still is NOT my thing and that I am...well, I'm hyper! I had been sitting quietly for quite a while, but then it started....the wiggles. I get really wiggley when I have been sitting still for a long time, I mean I get really wiggly! I was starting to feel like I was going to explode if I couldn't get up from the chair! Suddenly the glamour of getting a pedicure and relaxing with a glass of wine had been exchanged for feelings of anxiety. I felt like a wrestless kid in the barber's chair, besides there was no glass of wine and I was TIRED OF SITTING!! Just when I thought we were done, and I'd be able to get up, she threaded some rolled up kleenex between my toes, slid some generic flip flops on my feet and sent me to....the toenail dryers! Are you kidding me? We have to sit here and dry our toes? For how long? She told me we had to sit for ten minutes and when no one came to "check on our toes" after 25 I was a wiggly, grouchy, wrestless bitch! I checked my own toes, they were a little soft I discovered after putting a fingerprint in my fresh polish,grrrr, but I was done! I put on my own sandles, got up, paid and left. It felt sooo good to move, halelujia!!! I know, I sound like a little kid, but I can't help it. Today I remembered why I don't get pedicures. I like the sound of them, but I do NOT have the patience to spend a sunny afternoon, not sipping wine, pampering myself!

Day 5 of Stamped Recovery Week will see Marty and I hop on a plane and head to Montreal. We will be gone for ten days, but I will write when I can. Salut!

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

So I woke up this morning feeling pretty damn clever. I had carefully calculated a plan to avoid the line up at the lab where I had to get some routine blood tests and stuff done. I figured most people would be trying to get in and out of the lab before work, so they'd be there at 7am when it opened, making the place busy. I assumed that by 9am most people would be at work, or so they should be!!! Since i have the summer off, I hoped I'd just be able to waltz right in, pee in the cup, get poked and proded and go home to a giant breakfast since I had been told to "fast" for 12 hours prior....no such luck. I opened the door to the clinic at 8:50am walked right up to the counter where a woman tried to ask me if I'd taken a number, but I didnt understand a thing she said, one of the hundred people sitting in the clinic motioned to the ticket machine. I went over, took a number that said 76 and waited for someone to get up so I could steal their chair. The place was full, mostly of old people, everyone of them cranky since they'd all been fasting for at least 12 hours. When they called number 50, just to check him in, I realized this could be a LONG day. I decided to abandon ship and go home to make an appointment for another day! An appointment, what a great idea, duh!!!

After an unproductive first hour, I devoured a huge breakfast, hey, I'd been fasting, remember? Then headed out to ride my horse. The ferrier was there and he wanted me to hold my horse while he got trimmed. Now, the ferrier, is kind of sexy in a hard working, dually truck driving, big ruff hands, rustic kind of way and though I love my boyfriend, there is nothing wrong with LOOKING is there? Besides, one would have to be crazy to turn down a license to stare at a hard working, dually truck driving, big ruff hands, rustic ass while it was bent over catering to your needs (well your horses' needs?)...right? That is why I agreed to stand in the hot barn and hold the horse, though normally the stable girls insist on doing it. I am sad to report that it was NOT WORTH IT!!! The alleged "rustic ass" was impossible to enjoy as it was overshadowed by the hairy, sweaty crack that kept creeping out the top of the ferrier's wranglers, instead of staring, I spent the hour, avoiding the bent-over ass in front of me and getting snot blown all over me, by my annoyed horse!

The afternoon did have some excitement though. A friend of mine had left me a voice mail while I was in the barn, that her horse, Panda, had gotten tangled in the wire last night and was in need of some medical attention. She wanted me to come over and "help". I went from my stable to the farm where she keeps Panda, an adorable, HUGE quarter horse, her old 4-H project. Panda had definately lost his battle with the barb wire and his swollen, bleeding, ooozing, back leg seemed to tell the story. My friend had been to the vet on her own, it is way to expensive to take the horse there. She came back to Panda with an armful of ointments, syringes and other "sure to work" medical miracle products. We began the treatment by filling the syringe with penicillin. He needed 35ml and the vet had said to administer the drug in two injection sites. I was brave and agreed to "try first." I remembered the special "injection zone" from my own 4-H days, picked a target spot and stabbed the needle in. Panda, being an older horse has been pricked and prodded his whole life, so like a tropper he just stood there. I began to press down on the syringe, but I couldn't seem to make the penicillin come out. I figured I must be doing something wrong, so I removed the needle, and Jamie tried, she had the same trouble. By now, poor Panda has been "stabbed twice" and had recieved zero medicine!!! The owner of the farm came over to help us, damn, I hate it when two chicks look like they can't handle a situation and a man has to come over and "rescue" them. Anyway ofcorse the penicillin flowed easily from the syringe for him, and 4 needle holes later Panda was full of his daily dose! The needle injections were followed by a hose of cold water being held over his wounds, then we used a nail brush to scrape away the scabs before putting the mint smelling green cream on the sores. The whole processed ended with a thorough application of the blue "keep the flies away stuff". When we left Panda, his back leg was bright blue and he was hobbling around his dry pen looking miserable, poor guy! I have signed up to help treat him again tomorrow....the fun just doesn't stop!!!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

What about the canadians???
It suddenly dawned on my that I have been so busy enjoying my American relatives' blogs that the idea of creating my own blog, to represent the four Canadians in the family, never crossed my mind...until now! So here it is, the first Canadian Blog in the DesRochers family!!!!

Today marks the second day of "Stampede Recovery Week".....that's right, Stampede Recovery Week! The last 10 days saw the city of Calgary fill with cowboy hats, big, shiny belt buckles, tall leather boots and Wrangler butts as we welcomed the rodeo to town! But the partying is over and this week, the cowboy hats dissapear as the Gas and Oil "Big Wigs" trade in the beer gardens for thier offices. The big, shiny belt buckles and tall leather boots are exhanged for draw string "lulu lemons" and running shoes as we all head back to the gym to wittle down the extra stamped pounds we've packed on and the Wrangler Butts, well, they are desperately trying to get back to "pre stampede" size!! So far I am on track with my recovery program as I have managed to "knock off" 11 miles of running over the last two days. I've been riding my horse rather than watching cowboys get bucked off theirs and I have made a point of drinking nothing but water for the last 48 hours, yay me!!! Here's to feeling great!