When Life Imitates Bob Villa

For months, maybe years, I have been asking my brother to help me do a few things around my house. Things that I most surely can't do by myself.  Things that require "a man".  Being a non enthusiastic brother, his answer was always, "Yes, one of these days".

Well, one of these days came.  My brother did not.

Not sure how it came over me, but one morning I woke up, went downstairs just to see how easy it would be to rip up the carpeting in my basement.  It took some elbow grease, but I pried up the metal thingy that holds the carpet to the floor on the seams.  Once that was up, the rest was not so bad.

Ever try ripping up carpet with cats "helping"?  Not an easy task!
There is Muffin, one of my trusty helpers.

This is the best "before" picture I have.  This is midway through the carpet removal with half of the carpet still visible and attached.  Carpet is quite heavy so I had to cut it in half in order to haul it up the stairs and out the door.  By myself.

In the corners, underneath the carpet was rather damp and moldy.  Spiders scurried from time to time.  And cats were really good at getting underfoot.  But I did it.  By myself.  Do you also see that large closet in the corner?  Yup.  I moved that too.  By myself.

After researching how to apply epoxy flooring, I started the daunting task of scraping up the old paint on my basement floor to prep it properly so that epoxy would adhere.

Scraping sucked!  I scraped most of this floor with a putty knife.  It was overwhelming at first, and I am not going to lie.  After the first day of scraping, I called "a man" to finish the job for me.  He was unavailable and had also never applied epoxy before.  So I did it.  By myself.

Scraping became an obsession.  Peeling paint was so pleasurable.  Any little piece of sticking up paint just called my name and once I started to peel, I could. not. stop.  I lost sleep so that I could peel.  It was great.  but it was NeVerEnDinG so I finally had to just tell myself enough was enough or I would still be down there peeling up that paint.

Next came sanding whatever paint was left on the floor.  I used a handheld electric sander and did wear all the appropriate safety gear....

....Except there should have been a warning on the safety goggles.

I gave myself a black eye after poking myself in the eye with the goggles!  Bob Villa would not be proud.

Then came power washing and acid etching the floor, which I did accomplish with a borrowed wet/dry vacuum.  The above photo is the only injury I sustained despite pouring acid on the floor while wearing capri pants, no socks, and open toed sandals.  Bob Villa would most certainly be appalled at my lack of safety measures.  However, I was beaming with pride because I did it by myself.

Once all of that was done and dried, the floor was ready for the fun part.  Painting!

Half way done!

And because when you start one project, more are sure to follow.  So I decided to give my downstairs bathroom a make over as well.  Below are some before and after photos.

 

And my final project turned out great.  In the beginning I didn't care if I screwed up royally because, well, its my house and also because its just the basement.  Now I have a very clean, mold resistant floor.  It still needs some decorating , but for now, THIS is my new and improved basement:

When I was describing all of this to my aunt, she said to me, "Honey, you need a man".  And I proudly proclaimed, "Who needs a man?!?  I did this All. By. Myself!"

Road Tripping with Prairie Dogs

Just two days home from a fabulous road trip through South Dakota, I want to go back.  Or at least go on another road trip somewhere.  Initially, "South Dakota" elicits "what is in SOUTH DAKOTA?", "why THERE?"  But let me tell ya, it has some of the most breathtaking landscape and scenery I have ever seen.

So below is basically just my itinerary.  Nothing funny, fancy, or thought provoking.  Just a recap of my Fun Trip mostly for my own memory....

Day 1 (Monday):  On the road by 7:15 on our way to pick up our rental car (a Blue Chevy Cruz) in a torrential downpour.  By 7:30, we were "married".  That's right.  "Married".  After learning that it would cost an additional $10 a day to add another driver for the rental car, some random guy informed us that it does not cost extra for spouses to be added on as extra drivers.  So, in that instant, we were spouses.  We just saved ourselves about $100! 

We were so overpacked that we had to cram all of our gear into the car.  Literally.  It was one of those "Quick!  Shut the trunk" things where if you were to open the trunk from here on out, you had to use extreme caution for falling duffel bags.  For real.  Our back seat was plum full too.  The down pour of rain and our impatience to get rolling may have impacted our organization skills.  But we were off!  My mission was to see buffalo and prairie dogs! 

Ten hours later, we made it to South Dakota and toured the World's Only Corn Palace.  We were curious as to what a Corn Palace was, and here it is a Palace made of Corn.  Go figure.  Its more like an entertainment auditorium for concerts and whatnot.  The outside is made out of corn and the design is changed every year.  When we saw a hungry pigeon gnawing on the outside of the building, we knew it was real corn. 

After 13 hours of car concerting, we finally made it to Wall.  Signs for Wall Drug litter the entire freeway as soon as you cross the Minnesota/South Dakota border.  By this time, it was around 10:00 PM, so we just got our hotel and turned in for the night.

Day 2 (Tuesday):  More rain and wind.  Turns out Wall is a tiny tourist town with kitchy shops for rinky dink souvenirs and fun photo opportunities. 

Our breath was first stripped away when we saw the rolling prairie hills.  Grey sky, green grass dotted with tons of black cows. 

South Dakota is Super windy.  My vanity had to take a back seat and I rocked hats and bandannas.  Not my best look, but it made for a much more pleasant and relaxing trip to not have to worry about my hair.

Then on to Sitting Bull cave.  This is home of the world's largest specimen of Dog Tooth Spar. 

We had to climb down 180 stairs to get into the depths of the cave.  That meant we had to then climb 180 stairs OUT of the cave too.

Did you know that if you fart in a cave, the stench lingers for a long time and follows you?  Thanks to me, we learned that lesson!

Some of the dog tooth spar.

Back in the car to head to the Black Hills.  On our way there, we stopped at Bear Country where we drove around a free roaming zoo of sorts.  All kind of animals roamed in sectioned off areas.  The highlight was the hundreds of bears that came right up to the car.

This guy made us chuckle.  He was just sitting there looking at the
scenery.  We called him the "meditating bear"

We saw Mt. Rushmore

And then drove by the Crazy Horse Monument.

And some of the most stunning terrain on the Needles Highway.  Rock formations and spooky, windy roads proved to be truly Awesome.  One could think they were on a different planet by the unearthly feel that the Needles emit. 

That night we stayed in Hill city to return to the Black Hills the next day to explore and hike.

Day 3 (Wednesday):  Weather is finally cooperating.  In the mid 50's, some sun, Breezy.  We venture to hike Harney's Peak, which is the highest point between the Rockies and the Andes.  This was the Mother of all hikes.  Six miles round trip, 3 of which is uphill, climbing this ancient "mountain".

We hiked to that "castle" in the background.  In actuality, it used to be a fire tower

At the top of Harney's Peak.

The return trip was much easier, but we were both ready to relax in the car and drive the Custer Wildlife Loop.  My mission of seeing "Buffalo" (more properly called "Bison") and Prairie Dogs came true!  Bison everywhere!

Where there is Bison, there are Prairie dogs as well.  So cute!

In addition, we saw Pronghorn deer

And the "begging burros"

My biggest regret is not hanging out with these burros longer.  I fed this guy carrots.  Next time, I will park, chill, and talk to my buddies longer. 

After talking to all the critters, we headed back to Wall so that we could spend the following day in the Badlands.

Day 4 (Thursday):  Windy (Badlands was under a "wind advisory"), but sunny and warmer.  On our way to the Badlands, we found this little spot where we could hang out with the Prairie Dogs!  Dream come true!  We got to feed them and hang out with the little critters.

We spent the rest of the day here, in the sacred, spiritual lands.    The Badlands!

Initially, we were going to camp here, but because of the weather (there was also some threats of a thunder storm) and our eagerness to start our long trek back home, we decided against camping.  Next time, we said.  So, East we went towards home and ended up staying in Pierre, the capital.

Did not see a rattlesnake, though I was calling for them.
I only wanted to see one from a distance.  A long distance.

Day 5 (Friday).  Severe Weather alerts in the Black Hills and Badlands...Mostly a driving day for us.  Destination DeSmet, Home of Laura Ingalls Wilder, three hours away.   Once we arrived in DeSmet, we were just eager to get home to pet our cats we left behind at home.  Neither one of us wanted to take the hour long tour of the Ingalls homestead so we attempted to drive around to see the building of interest ourselves.  Disappointed to see a more developed town than I anticipated, and feeling pressure from the 7 hour drive ahead of us, we decided to just head home and not play around in DeSmet.  Next time maybe.

So, I came to see "Buffalo" and Prairie Dogs, and got to see so much more.  More than I ever thought was possible in South Dakota. 

On my journey, I couldn't help but think of the Native Indians who were forced to give up their sacred land and now live in some of the worst poverty in America.  But that is a blog for another day, another time. 

For now, I will relish in the beautiful landscape that is America and give thanks for the beautiful perfection that surrounds us each and every day.

Memorable Quotes:

Me:  Slow and Steady Wins the Race
Her:  Water is life.  Hydrate or die.
both of us:  Winning!  In reference to farting and who had the stinkiest ones.  Cows won, but I came in second. 

My New Mantra

Ever since I saw this, I have been consciously saying this to myself nearly every day.  Not sure who wrote it (but I do know it was from someone who had gastric bypass surgery) and it isn't grammatically perfect, but the message is clear.

 

I CAN DO HARD THINGS

YOU CAN do hard things.I know, you're saying, "What's your point?"Sometimes, when faced with a challenge-- especially if you're a recovering addict as so many of us are, when you approach something difficult, your inner voice says, "Holy crap-- I can't DO that"...and you do an about-face-- you reach for the drug (or Ring Ding) of choice. To feel uncomfortable… and not to comfort yourself, is a hard thing but you can do hard things.

 

When it's late and you're tired, and you know you are supposed to walk, you said you would, and it's looking like it might rain-- it's hard as hell to lace those sneakers up and get out there—
but you can do hard things.Protein shakes can taste yucky. It's hard to remember all those calcium supplements. It's hard to get 64 oz of water in. It's hard to plan meals, buy expensive and healthy choices, stay out of the cake in the lounge at work-- but you can do hard things.

 

You don't have to self-medicate. You don't have to eat those chips. You don't have to duck and avoid every unpleasant, difficult challenge in your path. Sometimes, the best bet is to admit their existence..."Yes, hard things, I see you trying to get in my way, but you know what? I CAN DO HARD THINGS!"

 

Sometimes this means having to survive a host of feelings you never felt before because you never let yourself feel them before-- stress, confusion, anger, rage. You can't numb them out or sand off their edges-- you have to stand right in your space and let them have a go at you-- and grit your teeth, and say to yourself, "Go ahead, get in my way. I'll get through this. I can do hard things."And you will find that you will survive them. And as you survive them, you will face new ones, standing a little taller, because in time you will eventually understand and rely on the fact that you can do hard things. And eventually the "pass me some Ben and Jerry's--my boss is a jackass" response gives way to something new-- something that sounds more like this:"Go ahead, Boss, bring it on. I'll have that on your desk by five.""No thanks, Nancy, it's gorgeous but I really can't have an eclair right now.""I guess I could just park back there and walk.""It's only 8 ounces and I don't have to love the stuff, I'll just drink it quickly.""If I spend ten minutes planning now, I won't be faced with tough choices later."

 

Post RNY living is no joke. It's not easy. It's not fun. It's not all "Whee, I'm a size 6!" Not everyone takes it as badly as I did, but there were days I *literally* cried because a kid at a store could have a cookie and I couldn't. I felt sorry for myself and holed up in my jammies, burning candles, and chatting here to avoid my fridge.When I started, I could literally not walk further than my car, which is about 100 feet from my door. I bargained with myself that getting down to maybe 250 pounds would be JUST FINE, I didn't need more than that because the thought to ask more from myself was ridiculous, impossible-- who the hell loses 220 pounds? That's not even humanly possible, seriously!And I found out the answer to who does that : it's ME. *I* can lose 220 pounds-- I know it because I *did* it . I can get in my supplements. I can learn to accept my new, imperfect body. And with planning and management, I can make a post op life that still provides pleasure, joy and fulfillment.And I don't do those things because they are easy-- I do them because they're hard, but I *can*. I can do hard things.And so can you. And you will. So the next time it's all too much (and it is for me too, although less often as I grow), look your RNY challenge-- whatever it is--- boldly in the face and say, "I can do this. I can do hard things."Then pull out all the stops and grab the brass ring-- it's there for the taking!"

 

Whatever your challenge is,  YOU CAN DO HARD THINGS.  And so can I!

Getting My Ski On

January and February can be a funky time in these parts, especially if there is no snow in which to have fun.  The dead of winter.  Dark, grey days can create dark, grey spirits.  Knowing all too well the heaviness of this time of year in the Northland, I took some days off work so that I can have some FUN and lift the heaviness that has fallen on my soul yet again.

Finally we have a winter that has substantial snow suitable for snowshoeing and skiing.  During these 6 days off, I am embracing Every. Single. Moment.  Perfect weather, and fun friends, has made for some of the best skiing I have had in years.  The other night, I skied under the light of the full moon and had one of the best laughs I have had in a very long time.

Some days have been super ski days with skiing in the morning AND the afternoon.  I feel like I need to get all my skiing in during these 6 days because once I head back to work, its no turning back.  I will be working 12 shifts in 11 days.  Just thinking about that makes me tired.....

BUT for THIS week, I am enjoying quality time with nature. 

Snowshoeing with the dogs is always great fun.  They roll around in the snow collecting snowballs.......

Or becoming one.........

 

 

 

Before too long, skiing and snowshoeing season will be over and we will morph into ucky mucky spring, but I intend to take advantage of this glorious snow that has been absent the past few years.  Lots of good skiing can still be had; its only March!

And just as easily as it sneaks in, the darkness lifts and once again I can think a little straighter, breathe a little lighter, and laugh a little easier.

Catching a Breath

I don't know how parents do it when one of their children is sick.  The worry and sadness I have felt for Valentino these past few days has been horrible.  It started a few months ago when he developed a cough which was very painful to watch, and I'm sure very uncomfortable to experience.  So we went to the vet and he was diagnosed as having "allergy induced asthma".  I declined steroid injections for him, choosing instead to remove what I thought was the cause of his allergies (new litter).  For a while, his coughing improved, but did not cease completely.

These past few weeks, his coughing has become more frequent and more and more worrisome:

So back to the vet we went.  Chest X-rays and blood work revealed that my poor Tino has feline asthma.  We returned home with at prescription for Predisone, but after doing a lot of research online, I decided I did not want to subject him to a medication with several adverse side effects (hair loss, aggression, increase risk for diabetes, etc).  However, I came upon a relatively recent treatment for asthmatic cats.  An inhaler called the AeroKat.

It has a little mask to fit over the cat's face so they breath in the inhaler medicine.  Seems a little silly for some of you, I'm sure, but I'm willing to do whatever is best for my buddy.  The inhaler has less side effects, and goes directly to the source of the problem rather than a pill that travels throughout his system.  So I ordered one of these contraptions, along with some inhalers (a daily flovent and a rescue albuteral).  Its taking a while to arrive so until then, I'm doing some more research and ridding my home of potential allergens.  In doing this, I have found so many good websites dedicated to asthmatic cats and have watched numerous YouTube videos of cats receiving their medication via AeroKat.  It has helped ease my worries, some, to see the ease of its use. 

Once his medicine arrives, both Tino and I can breathe a little easier. 

Thank you, Mr. Stranger

Dragging myself out of bed to head to work each day has been a bit of struggle for me recently.  Thoughts of calling in sick, or just giving up completely and going on welfare, are at the forefront of my mind. 

Not really.

However, we have all had those days where heading into work has been more painful than having your eyeballs poked out with a fork.  On those such days I am ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS reminded of a random fellow whose path crossed mine more than ten years ago. 

A stranger.

Someone whose name I know not.  Someone whose face I know not.  If our paths have crossed since that initial meeting, I am not aware of it.  This stranger with whom I had only one encounter has literally changed my way of thinking.  Forever.  Our conversation resonates in my mind more than any other conversation I have had with anyone, ever.  Lately, I am reminded of this on an almost daily basis.

It happened when I worked as a cashier at Target some 15 or so years ago.  I was grumpy having to be at work instead of enjoying the rare, most perfect Duluth summer day.  Beautiful.  Warm.  Sunny. 

As a cashier, we were encouraged to "schmooze" with our "guests" and they sometimes schmoozed with us.   Usually this small talk revolved around the weather since Duluthians find the weather one of the most interesting of topics.   A gentleman entered my line and bought some small item.  I greeted him in the usual manner.  He mentioned what a nice day it was outside.  This comment was difficult to hear when I would have rather been outside enjoying it than working inside at a cash register.  Our conversation went something like this:

Me:  Hello.

He:  Hi.  What a nice day we are having outside today!

Me:  Yeah, I wish I was out enjoying it rather than working today.

He:  I was just thinking I wish I had a job to go to today.

With that, he just walked away.  His head hanging just a little lower than when he first entered my line.  I watched him walk away, and was forever changed by one simple sentence.

That moment and those words impacted me in ways that he will never know.  I think of him often and wonder what his circumstances were, what he is doing now, and if he enjoys going to his job each day if he has one.

Whenever I get grumpy about having to go to work, I immediately think of him and grow a little more thankful that I GET to go to work. 

More than that, though, I am reminded how our words and actions, even in our simple, everyday interactions can have an impact on one another.  For better and for worse.  How many people are out there thinking about a conversation that I had with them?  Have I changed their lives like this stranger changed mine? 

Thank you, Mr. Stranger, for continual reminders to be thankful for what I have, and for illustrating so perfectly how powerful words can be.

Pushing 40

My doctor ever so kindly welcomed me to the almost 40 club when I complained about my achy hip.  She not so blatantly said, "Welcome to almost 40".  Yup, almost there.  But not quite.

You know you are almost 40 when you celebrate your Birthday playing old lady Bingo at a casino.  And you can't keep up with all the gray haired chain smoking ladies with their ornate bingo bags. 

You know you are almost 40 when you are the only one among your friends who did not get carded entering the casino.  Where you need to be 18!

You know when you are almost 40 when 9:00 is past your bedtime.

You know you are almost 40 when the kids and teenagers at work tell you that you remind them of their mom.  Or grandma.

You know you are almost 40 when just looking at that ice cream sundae winds up on your butt and thighs.

You know you are almost 40 when the conversations with your friends have now evolved into talking about all your various health concerns and body aches and pains.

You know when you are single and almost 40 when your coworkers remind you of your crazy cat lady status as evidenced by "all the Friday nights spent with your cats and all the Christmas cards featuring your cats". 

Key word here, folks:  ALMOST.  I'm not 40 yet, bitches!  Its better to be pushing 40 than pushing daisies.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get my "dobbers" and head to Bingo.