ICU

Ok, don't worry, not the real ICU. Scooter got lasiks on Tuesday. We might as well spend that lovely HSA money my work gives me. Anyway, they gave him these marvelous eye shields that he has to tape on every night to keep him from bumping his eyes. Also, about eight months ago he got placed on a cpap machine. So for the last several nights, we tape on his eye shields, then he puts on this weird brace to keep his mouth closed while he sleeps, then the little cpap headgear that also goes around his head and little tubes up his nose (he doesn't wear the regular mask). He looks like he has been in some horrible accident and he should be in ICU hooked up to ao bunch of machines, it is so funny, I giggle every time! I would post a pic, but he doesn't see the humor like I do. It's a good thing he had those years of practice sleeping in a gas mask!

Oh Baby!

This morning I was rolling out of bed around 7:00, when Scott said, "What are you doing".  My response, "Going to check on the babies" "UGH" was the return.

I'm not really sure how that happened, it started so innocently. I went into Murdoch's and there were the little baby chicks.  OK, I was down to 10 hens so additional chicks were understandable.  Maybe 20 was a bit much. At least they are a few weeks old now and able to wander around the goat pasture.

My sister Donna called me few months ago about raising her some peacocks (something about a reptile rescue and poisonous snakes deciding if they ever get free to go directly to her house). Well, have you ever tried to find peacock chicks?  Not to mention the price...so it was suggested that guinea fowl are just as effective at attacking snakes.  I picked up 1/2 dozen.  They are going to be relocated as soon as they are big enough to not be a hawk's lunch.

 After losing Shadrach we realized that two goats does not a herd make. So we attempted to adopt an older goat named Snickers.  That didn't work very well, considering she bit me and threw Diva around like a rag doll. So we took her home because you can take the goat out of Clifton, but apparently you can't take Clifton out of the goat.  On the way home we found Meshach and Abed-nego in Whitewater. 

They are so tiny.

They also have super floppy ears.

 My sister Nancy is crazy about Pigs.  She has pigs all over her house...ceramic, metal, calendar...every gift giving holiday I have told her I would get her a pig.  She assured me many times that would be awesome, so this Mother's Day I went up Whitewater Creek and found....

 Lola. 

Nancy named her, she was so surprised.  I gave her a book about pig care, she opened it and said, "Very funny, where's my pig?"  You should have seen the look on her face when I said, "Right outside"

 There is a small problem.  For many years Nancy has bought Frank and Princess smoked pig's ears.  Unfortunately, Frank has trouble realizing that Lola's are not for chewing on.  Apparently they smell the same, Lola however, believes that turnabout is fair play, so every time Frank goes for her ears...she goes for his. 

Lola is living in our kennel, and may be getting a friend soon.  In the meantime Scott is working on a pig palace for her, complete with a pig pond.  I assured him she didn't need water slide...but maybe...

She is pretty cute, I'm not sure what Nancy will do with her, maybe have a 400 lb pig on a leash or Christmas Dinner!

In the meantime, this is kind of what our walks look like...

Scott's a good sport.

I'm really not sure where all these babies came from...but like alot of babies they kind of just happened...

By the way, you know your husband of 21 years loves you if he is willing to shampoo pig poop out of the carpet in the back of your mini van.

Thank a Teacher

Apparently I missed Teacher Appreciation week.  I saw a couple posts on Facebook about it, and a couple of the marquee's outside the schools around town touted "Thank A Teacher" on them.  It didn't really hit me until today when I was on my way to WaterFest.  Today and tomorrow I get the chance to share with 5th graders (for the 12th year) what it is that I do everyday.

Growing up I had some great teachers and some awful teachers. Included in that group are some great school teachers and some terrible school teachers. Now that I am older some of the teachers I thought were great when I was younger...I now realize they were pretty weird. But, again, I digress. 

Anyway, when I was in 10th grade I had Mr. Larson for Biology.  I'll admit I was pretty confused the first week or two, because he didn't teach us biology. No, Mr. Larson spent the first couple weeks teaching us how to be in high school. He taught us how to take notes, how to write a proper outline, and the importance of re-writing notes.  It sounds pretty simple, until you realize that all the teachers I had previously had, believed that the process of taking notes was some how absorbed and known by all their students. Along those lines, he also taught us the value of organizing school work and using reminders, calenders, and three ring binders (I know pretty common sense...except that common isn't so very common). I don't know how I would have ever survived college biology (especially taxonomy classes) without those note taking skills.

After going over all that he got down to teaching us biology.  And boy did he teach it.  I remember him dividing the chalk board in half and going down one side with creationist views and the other with evolutionary theory. I remember during the chapter on reproduction he was honest and warned about keeping a condom in your wallet for years before using it! He showed me how to scramble a frogs' brain and dissect it while it was still alive (since I was the only one who brought in an actual leopard frog). And even though only half the brain got scrambled and the next day while I was getting it out of the refrigerator it jumped up and tried to jump off the table (with entrails falling out of it), I thought he was going to laugh so hard he would hurt himself. I can still name almost all the bones in the human body and I discovered that my blood type was B+ in his class.

When it came time to pick a major the only one that seemed even remotely interesting was biology, because of the great class I had in 10th grade. Now I graduated from high school over 25 years ago, and college almost 21 years ago, but I can still remember where I sat in Mr. Larson's biology class.  Pete Larson was killed a couple years after he retired in an ATV accident while working for the US Forest Service. But, once a year at WaterFest I get to stand in front of a classroom of students and show them some cool things that I get to do as a job.  Lot's of times I have a teacher come up and thank me, tell me I did a great job and "have you ever thought about being a teacher?", I just think to myself, "Thank you Mr. Larson, you made it fun".

Sadness

I came home last week and found my Shadrach (the beloved) wasn't feeling very well.  On Friday, he wasn't any better so we had a housecall from the vet.  He determined that it was bladder stones (apparently not uncommon in cut male goats, particularly if their Mom's give them all the sweet mix they want).  Shadrach seemed to do better on Saturday, but took a turn for the worse on Saturday night.  On Monday we ended up with an ultrasound and the sad decision to put him down.

Shadrach was my very first goat and he made me love goats.  He was extremely needy when we first got him, very nervous and constantly cried.  He lived with the chickens until his pasture got fenced in and we got him a couple friends.  Even after that, whenever I got home he would recognize my vehicle and started crying for me to come play with him. When we would be out going to visit or working in the yard he never let me out of his sight, and if I were distracted long enough he would come over and bump me, as if to say "I'm right here in case you forgot". If we were up visiting Grandma and I hadn't been paying attention he would come give me a little nibble or just lay his head on my shoulder. He was very jealous and didn't like any of the other animals getting my attention, so yes, he was very spoiled.

Missing Shadrach has been very hard on all the Dederick's but it seems the ones who are having the hardest time are Diva and Little Timmy. Today, despite going for a walk and spending time with them, they both just seem sad.  Of course neurotic that I am now, I keep going out and staring at them.  They both just look at me like, "where is our friend?".  So on top of dealing with my own depression and sadness, I have my babies to take care of too. 

Last night I took everyone for a walk down on the creek, of course the dogs all had to go in for a swim, since the creek is so high with the run off.  My old dog Dudley jumped in also, not realizing how cold the water was, he has a lot of arthritis in his hips and the cold water made them lock up.  I had some trouble getting him up the bank and out of the water, but I explained to him that I couldn't lose both my boys in one week, so he was just going to have to live a little longer.  It was a long slow walk home and I'm petty sure even the goats babies were worried about him.

All in all it has been a rough animal week at our house.  Experiences like this are why people say they are never getting a dog/cat/goat/chicken/(fill in the blank here).  But even going through all the sadness I wouldn't trade my time with Shadrach.  I love all my animals and the sadness is just a little price to pay for all the joy, fun and happiness they bring.

The Ramblings of a Cold, Cruel Heart

It's tax season again. Fortunately I am not owing Uncle Sam quite as much this year as last. I guess we planned better. A little while back I had a friend tell me that she was "fiscally conservative, and socially liberal" in her political philosophy. I have been thinking about that a lot lately, exactly what does that mean? I think it means she doesn't like the government spending her money but she is fine with them spending mine on doomed social programs. I consider myself pretty conservative in every aspect of life, so does that automatically infer that I don't care about my fellow man?

I know I've been considered pretty heartless in the past. Cold, unfeeling, mean....yes, I know all the labels.  Maybe I am, but I do know that most government agencies are extremely inefficient and ineffective.  They have lofty goals, things like head start, housing authorities, and welfare.  But I can't help believing that there are a lot better people to take care of programs like that other than the government. I wonder if my friend feels that way not because I am heartless but because maybe she is. 

Let me explain, when I think about it a little further I realize that it is way easier to go along in your merry little life if you just let the government take your money and promise to take care of all the problems with your neighbors.  By turning over all the social programs to others my friend is absolved of all responsibility. She doesn't have to spend any time helping her community.  She doesn't have to become invested in the children in her neighborhood...that's all taken care of. After all, that way if things don't work out it isn't her fault, it was the governments. I'm sure she is very busy with her children's activities and can't be bothered.  She probably doesn't want to worry about  the lady down the street who is out of food and the paperwork hasn't gone through for her EBT card, she doesn't want to worry about the homeless (that is why there is a shelter), she doesn't want to have to take food in to the family that has sickness (isn't there a program for that?).  She can rest comfortably at night believing that her benevolent Uncle has taken care of everyone around her.

Now back to heartless me...who doesn't want a socially liberal government.  I believe that charity begins at home, that means families take care of each other. But wait, our country has downgraded the family unit by rearranging the definition.  OK, then I want my community to help each other, like our church does, but wait again...the government is going after our churches and considering revoking their tax exempt status.

Enough is enough. I'm tired of the jump people make when they assume that socially conservative means cruel and heartless. If you want to think I'm all that, go ahead...as I've stated before on this blog I believe you can have the eternal blessings or the worldly recognition. Once again...I don't care what you think, I know who I am.

Glamorous

I took today off work.  My mother was having a little surgery.  I didn't think it was anything major, she had a similar surgery about 21 years ago that I took her to, and that was in the doctors office. So we headed in this morning and arrived promptly at the surgical center.  When we asked how long the surgery would be, we were both very surprised when we were told 3 hours.  Holy cow! Yup, she was in there for 3 full hours.  It was a little nip and tuck, my family is notorious for not being able to smile and have our eyes seen at the same time, and this little deficiency was beginning to cause some actual visual problems with my Mom. Everyone talks about getting plastic surgery, the stars all apparently have it done, it sounds so glamorous and simple.  A little tuck here or there, a little pull - no big deal.  Let me just say these people have never had any significant plastic surgery done.  When I walked into the recovery room, my sister tried to prepare me...but there really isn't any way she could have.  When they pulled the cold packs off my Mom's eye's I actually gagged a little.  It is awful, she looks terrible...what was amazing was the great trouble that the staff took to assure us how nice it was looking, very little bruising and hardly any swelling.  They kept pulling off the packs to show Nancy and I, while we were looking at the floor trying to keep down our cookies.  It was quite the circus to get her home, now we just keep telling the doctor orders require he to keep the cold packs on AT ALL TIMES.  Cruel I know, but seriously, Nancy and I can't help it.  I'm here alone right now...I sent Nancy in to the pharmacy we need some wrinkle cream STAT!!!

A Little To Pure?

Emily had some sort of German singing practice last night (I really don't know what it was, but I know I get a trip to Provo out of it this weekend) anyway, Erik needed a haircut and a new jacket. So we headed to the mall where we could hit both birds with one stone and check Cabella's to see if they had any additional clips for his 22.We scored on the haircut - no line- and he found a hoodie he loved $7.00 - so much cheaper than his sister- it was a bust at Cabella's they didn't have his clips.  After all that I was pretty hungry and while Erik is good with McDonalds I wanted something from the food court.  As we were going down the mall we had to pass by Victoria's Secret (which with all they show there isn't much of a secret) and I noticed my son, holding up his hand to shade his eyes from all the posters in the store window. "Ugh, Mom, I really don't like walking by here." I know, he does that every time we pass by the store, he did it again as we headed back to the car. (Don't worry - he likes girls)  Just as we were getting ready to leave the mall we came up behind a couple that were walking ahead of us.  The girl had on a pair of shorty shorts, riding very low on her hips and a bikini top.  We slowed down because they were heading the same way we were and I waited to see if Erik had a comment.  He did.  As soon as they were out the door ahead of us I heard about it, what was funny was the women coming in the other direction who overheard his comments and had a pretty good chuckle. Later after we were in the car I asked Erik about it and asked if he ever thought he would like to look at girls like that, his response was that it was a teenage thing and since he was only 12 it hadn't really happened to him yet, as he understood it, once you become a teenager you just ZAP start to like looking at that sort of thing.  He turns 13 in a about 2 months, maybe it won't hit him automatically!