Bad luck? Again?

Song of the day: “Disturbia” by Rihanna. Perfectly fine song describe the past week.

So much has changed, and so much is going to change, that thinking of how to write all this up was a bit daunting…not so much the coming disaster thing you’re going to read about, but everything around it, the consequences; they are profound.

First off, grandpa was feeling poorly last week, again, so we took him to the doctor, who told him that his heart murmur had gotten considerably worse and that he would do a lot better to have himself admitted in hospital for two or three days so he could get checked out. Now, you know grandpa, ever since the horrors with tenant and Sally, he’s been avoiding the Spanish hospitals like the plague, and I can’t say I blame him. I’m doing the same. Apparently it is still a trauma for all of us.

Be that as it may, on the way home we talked about it, and decided that big brother was going to fly to the Netherlands with him, where he’d be able to stay with tenant and Cousin Ed, who were more than willing to play hostess to his needs in this uncertain time. So it was arranged, grandpa had to visit his doctor again in the morning, and we’d have to stock up one some things so I wouldn’t need to go out all the time while they were both gone, and we bought the tickets.

We shouldn’t have. Apparently grandpa hadn’t heard that his doctor wanted to see him the next morning again to check if he would be able to fly…he couldn’t, so we landed into quite a pickle there, with least of the problems being that it is almost impossible to get a refund for tickets at that particular airline.

But alright, no sense in lingering on done matters, we had to think of a solution, and the only one was to take the Isuzu and drive the odd 2300 km. More arranging followed, but that same evening, at around eight, we were packed and ready to go. There was some discussion about whether or not Grandpa should take his dog Ollie. It’s a tiny little thing, 13 years old, and they are both rather attached to each other. We were balancing precariously between Ollie being a reason for grandpa to “keep going”, or being a burden, but after checking with tenant and Cousin Ed, who were more than willing to provide a home for Ollie should the worst happen, Grandpa decided to take him.

We left at eight in the evening, figuring we should be able to cross Spain during the night, with as little as possible traffic. We drove straight through, all went swell, despite a small “lost” moment in the middle of a thankfully sleeping Madrid, and we made good time, reaching the border at about noon the next day. We went straight into France where we pondered taking small roads (to save a buck or two by going around the toll roads) but decided to go for speed because grandpa wasn't doing well at all. I sometimes wonder if sickness can change people’s characters, because  I had never heard him complain as much as he did during the first leg of the trip. The bed in the back of the car was a little short, the rumbling car prevented him from sleeping, sitting was too this and that, the list was endless, and admittedly it set my teeth on edge since there wasn’t anything that we could do about it.

Had just let mom know that we were making good time, and that the car was going a splendid steady 100 mp when about 40 under Bordeaux, the engine started to make a suspicious sound. Looked like our luck had run out, within moments of listening, the sound started to get worse. We were on the toll highway, meaning fast traffic, so big brother took the first turnoff so we could check what was up. First we feared no oil, but there was enough, and after adding a bit, it turned out there was still a sufficient amount in there. Cooling liquid: same. So we tried again, for about thirty seconds the engine sounded normal, but then we had to pull over on a dirt road because it got worse again.

So there we were, in a nature reserve, of all places, at least an hour's walking distance from two towns (splat in the middle) with a sick grandpa in the back, and in a country where we didn't know the language at all. Did manage to flag a couple down who spoke a few words of Spanish. The married couple offered to drive big brother to the nearest town, and then the other, but by that time I had, by some miracle reached travel assistance in Spain (and they had an English department) who had managed to figure out from my explanation where we were, more or less.

Then the waiting started, with grandpa sickly in the back, and more phone calls were made when the one promised hour turned in two, and then three until the tow truck finally found us. He listened to the engine for about 2 seconds and declared it "Kaput", so he loaded us and the car up and drove us 20 miles east to the garage he worked for.

Y'all will be happy to know that due to some sort of holiday everything was closed, naturally. We would hear the official verdict until Monday, so there was more waiting as the insurance company started to arrange for a taxi and a hotel for the night. Not that we could do anything during this time. We were waiting in this tiny little garage, pacing while grandpa looked worse for wear.

Another three hours later the taxi finally turned up, and the driver had to wait with us for another half hour before we got the information about our accomodations for the night. Not easy to find a hotel for three people and a dog at the last possible moment.

So later that night, us keeping a wary and weary eye on grandpa and 24 hours into the trip, and 36 hours awake, without more than a few cat naps, another call with the insurance company made clear that the only thing that was covered in the insurance, was the destruction of the car in France and my and my companions' return to Spain...not our destination! Aaaaaargh. And the only way to get back to Spain was by plane, which grandpa wasn't allowed to do! I lost it there for a bit.

Seriously, my brain just shorted for several minutes. There we were, halfway there, grandpa a ghost of himself, big brother and me exhausted, and no solution. Couldn't find any words. But anyway, more talk finally got us in an agreement that I would get reimbursement for whichever way we went, for the equivalent that would have brought us home...which, due to the holiday was quite a bit, thankfully, considering that if we opted (according to the insurance our best option) to go by train it would be 300 bucks a head to reach Amsterdam, some odd 200 miles from our destination. That wouldn’t do. Grandpa would not be able to handle sitting that long, and then transferring trains in Paris, which means that you have to go from one station, across town to another, by foot or really expensive taxi…with way too much luggage, and a small dog. It was a pickle.

By then I just thanked them, tried to stop thinking and conked out for 6 hours. As the final arrangement by the insurance (I am infinitely grateful to their efforts, because regardless of all the bad news...we only had basic insurance...they did save our butts) a taxi picked us up and drove us to the train station in Bordeaux where we managed to rent a "limitless mileage" rental for a whopping 900 bucks, that should (cross our fingers, knock on wood, etc) get us the rest of the way.

But seriously, we were literally exactly in the middle of the trip, almost spot on the mile. How weird is that? If I were to believe in shaite like that, I would have thought that something didn’t want us to get grandpa to a safe place.

Be that as it may, I did manage to get the rental, and by some miracle there was enough money on my credit card. Then, of course, it started to rain the moment we got in the rental, started to pour buckets by the time we were 60 miles from Poitiers, which is when the traffic jams started. Yep! We could laugh about it by then…a little anyway.

I had to do most of the driving, considering the rental was only in my name. Stupidly I didn't think to add big brother, so he could only do a couple of quiet stretches between big cities, giving me an hour's rest here and there. Didn’t manage to sleep, but honestly by then I was past the tiredness and had shot straight into wide-awake exhaustion. It kept raining, and grandpa wasn't improving. We were starting to be afraid to pull over at gas stations because every time he got out the car he looked like he was going to keel over.

Another traffic jam started about 30 miles before Paris, so rather than risk it, we swerved the long way round. Had a very short pit stop at the Mc D then for some hot "fuel", but then we went on asap. By then we were so worried we just wanted to get across the border where at least they spoke Grandpa's language, in case we had to go straight to hospital.

Rain finally stopped around midnight, near Lille, and from there we shot across the border into Belgium where I got about an hour's sleep while big brother raced the empty highways.

Arrived at our destination just before four in the morning, where we phoned emergency services, and headed for hospital where grandpa was admitted.

Thankfully we didn't end up in the ER like he would have over here, but was send straight through to cardiology, where they put him in a room, started on the questions of the symptoms and the tests. There was indeed a rather severe murmur in his heart, and liquid behind his lungs explaining his lack of breath, so we might as well head on out to the place we were staying and phone later about the results.

Didn't get to bed until 8 in the morning, and was up again an hour and a half later to get on the phone with the rental's customer service, (holiday, so there was no way to reach the office) the insurance company, and all those other pesky little details like trying (and failing) to get me an affordable ticket back to Spain, in time to get me back in time for my job. Thankfully they have been very understanding about the whole thing, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that everything will be okay in that corner.

Wasn't able to book anything until Thursday, so that got my panic higher, considering I had promised to be home Monday because mom and the sibs were taking care of our dogs. Called home to ask if everything was okay, and that I couldn’t find anything affordable until Thursday, but thankfully all was well at home.

Seriously, I do not know what the heck is going on lately, but luck is not on our side. Jeeez.

Which reminds me, did I mention the last time that we had two dogs in hospital (on a Sunday no less). Cousin Ed’s Niobe, had his paw ripped open by one of the other dogs, and Abacara, (remember the small golden retriever I mentioned some weeks ago that we were worried about because she was losing weight?) had a uterus infection, so they both stayed in for surgery. Had a whopping bill for that, naturally. Remember those changes I mentioned at the beginning of the blog? We’re going to have to be extremely selective in the future about what kind of procedures we can have done for the dogs and what not, because that is just something that we can’t afford anymore with grandpa gone.

Another bit of bad news that happened while we were gone with grandpa, was that little brother had to have his Labrador put down. Poor darling had a disease that caused his spinal disks to grow out of shape, until finally it got to him last week. They found him on the bed, in pain and unable to move, so there really wasn’t any choice.

But back to the trip. We spent our time at Tenant’s and cousin Ed’s, part of it prepping the pantry, by changing it into a bedroom for grandpa. Turns out he’s going to have to stay with them for quite some time while all the necessary tests are done. There is a spare bedroom, but the stairs are too hard for him at the moment, despite the medication. Luckily the pantry was pretty big, and it would give him some privacy at the back of the house at least.

He’s probably going to need open heart surgery, because two valves are leaking now, meaning that recovering is going to be a long slow road for him. Worst of it is, the way things are looking, it is a big question whether he can ever come back. He’s going to need a lot of care, and what with us “roughing it” in the wild…it won’t do, because there is just no way for us in an emergency to get him over there again. I mean, this trip, with the loss of the car, was basically all the money we managed to save with our jobs this past year, we’re about 4 inches from flat broke. I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that we get some money back from the insurance. It looks grim, and unsolvable, unless there is some miracle, but thus are the facts and we will have to live with them.

We’ll have to see, I suppose, you just never know.

As to starting on solving things. Big brother and I did a lot of talking over there, while we waited for my return trip. We have looked at options, and of course there are some, but none of them are going to be easy, if for no other thing than that they will change life as we know it. We have some time to get it all sorted, and change is just that, change. It is only awful if you let it be, isn’t it? For now, I’m going to let everything go, my expectations, my hopes, and just see where life flows to, so to speak. I’m tired of all the holding on to the tiny little bits everywhere, and I have once again reached that point where I feel hollowed out, with nothing left to give.

I mean, as I sit here with our dogs (they were naturally ecstatic with my return) I can’t even really enjoy it, because at the moment they are a problem that needs solving, or else suffering lies in the future, and that is a most horrible feeling. But like I said, things are going to change. They have to. There is no other choice. The money we had saved so that we could hold out for the remainder of their years, is basically gone, grandpa’s pension, which helped a lot in this time where jobs are sparse, is out of the picture for the time being, and even though I would like to do magic, I can’t. In the end you can only do so much. But we’ll get back to this mess later on. Can’t think of it now. Too many immediate things to think about still.

My flight home was uneventful, thankfully, and mom picked me up. First past the insurance to arrange the paperwork, then home. Spent about an hour with the dogs outside on the old paddock. Just sat there and had them crawl all over me one after the other, rubbing their heads into whatever part of me they could find, until they finally settled down.

The rest of the day was a blur of exhaustion, and when I finally fell into bed, I passed out rather than slept, really. It has been an emotional roller coaster for sure.

Was up again just after seven to head to town for all the necessary arrangements. Though there was enough money on my creditcard when they checked for the rental, our insurance withdrew their monthly due a day later, and we had to buy me a tickets, so I had to deposit the money.

Next was a visit to grandpa’s GP, who thankfully agreed to write a note saying that grandpa was unfit to travel by plane, so maybe that will help to get a refund. Then I had to make an appointment for the Land Rover. Nothing serious, but the fuel gage doesn’t work, and it needs to be fixed. Then the other garage for the Isuzu, where I talked for a long time with our mechanic. He was shocked that the engine quit on us, and was outraged that the French mechanic had declared it “dead”. He’s pretty convinced that we should be able to get the car towed here through the insurance, regardless of what they’re saying. He had an insurance agent friend of his look at the contract and according him, they owe us the amount it takes to get it here.

So I’m going to visit a lawyer on Monday (I hate it, because except for the car they did help us out in our time of need) and see what comes from that. I mean, even if the engine is broken (we did push it hard, which supposedly isn’t good for old cars…and now, after everything, I do remember our mechanics warning us for that when we still pondered driving it to the UK. We were supposed to make plenty of stops to allow it to cool down. But in our fear for grandpa’s health, we forgot that.) we have time. We can wait until we can find a 2^nd hand engine on Ebay or some such place for a bargain and replace it. It’ll be cheaper than another car, and it will allow us to fix up, and sell the Land Rover after all.

Keep your fingers crossed. At the moment I think it is a matter of honor for our mechanic who took care of that car for 12 years. He’s been spending his afternoon and weekend looking into the matter and arranging for the lawyer.

We’ll see.

Anyway, all the arranging took a cozy six hours, meaning I was beat, and needed a nap so bad that I couldn't sleep a wink, of course. Hah.

Been busy making dog food, getting old bread and veggies from our usual spots, which is time consuming. Did manage to get to the gym last night, which was truly necessary. I pumped some serious iron, and kicked the heck out of the boxing bag, which soothed me considerably. Slept like a baby after that.

Which brings us to today. Finally some time to unwind, although the tension is still there just simmering under the surface. Have been out in the sunshine with the dogs, though, and they are extremely content, which is also soothing.

That’s about it, for now. I will keep you posted.

"Things"

Song of the day: “Things” by (originally anyway) Dean Martin and Nancy Sinatra. My head is alternating between that one and the one Robbie Williams did with Jane Harrick’s. Both are awesome.

Bad news first. Sonia, big brother’s Cocker Spaniel is not well as of yesterday. She didn’t get up during the course of the evening, was shaking, and when she finally did get up, she went straight through her legs, held her head at an odd angle, and seemed unable to hear us. This morning, it was only worse, so we left early and went right over to the hospital. The vet is ambivalent between a problem that can be caused by ticks, and a hernia of sorts, something for which she prescribed antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory. I doubt this is it. In fact, I think she either had a spike in fever, or had some sort of stroke, but who am I, right?
Anyway, she’s not actually doing better now, but also not worse, so we’re just going to have to wait and see how it goes. We have agreed, however, that if she gets worse, we’re not going to drag this out for her. She’s and old girl, and she deserves to go without long days filled with pain, and with some dignity.

But alright. Time to get to yesterday. I woke on the late side, partly due to the fact that I’m constantly busy on the computer until way too late. It didn’t help that it was a restless night, with Knight II constantly pushing himself up against me. He is such a baby.

Had a wonderful panic attach that lasted through most of the day, yesterday. It’s been a while since I had that. Heck, except for the few incidents, it’s been years, in fact. I can’t say I liked it. From sheer frustration I decided to pound the kickboxing bag for a few minutes, to get rid of some of the tension at least. It calmed me down a little, at least.

I see you wondering. What the heck’s she been worrying about? I don’t really know, actually. The usual, maybe. Getting on in years and still not having achieved some of my goals? Could be. Money toils? Heck, who hasn’t got those. No reason to get a panic attack about that, darn it. The dogs getting on in years? Sure. But I worry ‘bout that a lot, and try to be realistic about that by seeing it as a good thing that the pack is slowly getting to be less in numbers. Let’s face it, if finances get worse, it is not a good idea to have as many dogs as we used to. I have to remind myself that it is a good thing that they are passing on, in particular since they have all led a wonderfully full life, and enjoyed it to the fullest…on the most part. No. this is not a good reason to have a panic attack either. I’m just going to dismiss is it as silly fears that have no place bothering me at this point in my life. I am doing the best I can, in the only way I know how, and that is all anyone can ever do. Right?

Had to go out for a small donation yesterday (that was after the usual chores, of course) and go over to a specific bazaar where we needed to get clamps for mom’s market stand. You know what I mean, right? One of those metal contraptions with fabric over it? All very professional, and most likely giving a rather quaint image. Hah. We’ll see how it goes on Saturday, when big brother and I use it in town for the new market we’re going to be trying out…if all goes as planned. We still have to hear from the person who owns the spot how and when we can use it.

Tomorrow, or the day after is going to be busy for me. I’ll be doing some experimenting in the kitchen. First of, I need to make that pumpkin chutney for Sunday. The lady who really liked it basically ordered a pot (let’s hope she turns up), and I’m going to try some others out as well. You never know, I might be onto something here. I’m going to try to just experiment and see if there is a market for it.

Had a talk with Sally yesterday. She’s having her ups and downs, being bothered by all sorts of discomforts, and is understandably concerned. There’s very painful cramping, for which we decided to try alcohol free beer. Since cramping is mostly caused by shortages in calcium (which she should have more than enough of due to milk products) and magnesium, it won’t hurt to try. Added to that, since grandpa is now regulating her medication (she can’t keep track of it herself anymore) he noticed that she is holding back on painkillers. It worried us a little, but she volunteered an explanation by telling me that when she’s not in pain she will postpone taking it until she really needs it. Phew.

Tenant has, it seems, reverted a little to her old ways now that her family is gone. Eating is a bigger problem again. In fact, she will say that she wants to eat pieces, but then when you give it, she doesn’t finish her plate. I’m afraid we’re going to have to go back to mashing it all.

Cooking these past two days involved mashed potatoes with baked carrots and broccoli today, and chili sin carne yesterday (I know, I should have added meat, but I couldn’t make myself, darn it) which went down well with a bunch of lentil burgers. Yay. Today’s desert was yogurt with cream. Hah.

Today was Spanish lesson day, of course. It didn’t go bad, despite the fact that I slept way too little (big brother was out and about with Sonia, and once I heard she was still doing bad, I couldn’t go back to sleep anyway). Didn’t get to bed until three, and was up before nine, darn it.
But anyway, Spanish didn’t go bad. We talked with our teacher (she works on a new technique that is based on what works best for her students. It is very intuitive, and unstructured, which works for big brother and me, I think.
Were a little late arriving at her place (due to Sonia) and had Knight along. It was rather hot, so he was more than a little fussy. With a little luck I’ll be able to leave him home again next week, because he disrupts lessons quite a bit. And what with the heat, I couldn’t leave him in the car.

Summer appears to have arrived, by the way. The clouds are pretty much gone, and the temps have peaked well into the eighties. Yay. With a little luck I’ll be cleaning the pool tomorrow morning, but it’ll depend on how things work out.

Once we got home today (which was late because we had to go to town for another pickup) I was so friggin tired, I decided to take a nap and literally passed out for an hour. Seriously, when Cousin Ed called me awake, I felt like I had to drag myself out of a near coma, for crying out loud. Jeez.

Edits. I did quite a bit on the paper edit, actually. I’m almost at a quarter now, so, Yay! Which reminds me. I better wrap this up so we can get started on applying the paper changes on the computer. Gotta go.

Back to hospital

Song of the day: “Beneath your beautiful” by Labrynth and Emeli Sandé. Gorgeous song still, and not a bad one at all to have in your head.

I couldn’t think of a single thing to celebrate the 10,000th visitor, so we’ll just have to postpone that ‘till 15,000 or something. Anyone who has a grand idea for that momentous occasion is welcome to make suggestions. Hah.

So, back at the hospital. Caregiver was already there with Sally, who had her doctor’s appointment, so I was home alone with tenant, who wasn’t doing well at all. Her refusal to drink and eat became worse over the past few days and this morning, when I tried to tempt her into taking something, she complained she couldn’t think, couldn’t choose, and just wanted to stay in bed. Not good. She’s been wanting the bed a lot lately, but seeing as she’d been in it for about twelve hours already, and had just come out thirty minutes earlier, it was clearly getting worse. I checked her skin for dehydration, didn’t like that either, and she wasn’t making much sense with the few words that she was expressing. So, big brother and I conversed for a moment, and then decided to pack her up in the car and call caregiver not to bother coming home, but meet us at the ER.

Thirty-five minutes later, rain pouring down, we arrived at the hospital and got her into a chair and to the back exam rooms…seriously, that ER is getting to be way too familiar if you ask me.
Caregiver and tenant were already off to the back by the time I got to the reception area. I adopted my usual “I don’t know what I’m doing here, will someone please help the poor foreigner who hardly speaks any Spanish?” and asked where my grandma was. The nurse started telling me that only one person was allowed into the back, but the young man behind the reception area took pity on me, and said I could go to the back and exchange places with caregiver. Of course, when I got to the back, tenant needed to be shifted in her seat and there was no nurse around to do the honors, and caregiver had to stick around because of her Spanish, so we both got to stay.

While tenant was being prepped for exams and observation, caregiver and I sat in the waiting room, both of us reading, and more or less oblivious of all the sick people around us. The waiting period was relatively short, at which point the male nurse who’d handled tenant, came to fetch us. She was on a stretcher by then, with breathing tubes in her nose (which she kept trying to remove, of course). She wasn’t really coherent there, while the doctor examined her and determined that she had an airway infection. Strange how those can develop in less than two days. I mean, she always has a lot of mucus, but apparently some sort of bacteria had “nestled” in it, meaning that they put some sort of breathing mask on her with a vaporizing liquid…that wafted right up my throat (I was stupid enough to try to talk with her while she was breathing it) and had it feel wonky for half the day. *sigh*

The stuff did seem to help her, allowing her to breathe deeply and quiet down. We explained the symptoms to the doctor, though as usually they don’t respond all that much to what friends and relatives have to say. We did point out that she’s be acting oddly of late, and that the eating and drinking was disastrous, but the first thing they wanted to focus on was the airway infection.

The was when we were basically sent off, with the promise that we could visit at eight in the morning, one in the afternoon (to talk with a doctor), or five in the afternoon for visiting. Same old same old. No answers until the tests are done, naturally. Well, at least she’ll be on the drip and no longer dehydrating.

As for the weekend. Well, Sunday was a bust, market wise. The weather has been disastrous for three days now. We’ve had wind, rain, and general nippiness, and I don’t like it one bit. I want spring, darn it.

Writing wise we’re done with the edit of V.L. The letter is done, too, so asap (probably tomorrow) we’re going to send it to the publisher. Then of course we’ll be right back to the “we’ll see” bit, but what the hey. I’m starting to really get used to this patience, and waiting bit when it concerns “the dream”.

We worked a little on the window frames for the future kitchen. Not much, due to the weather. It was darn cold up there, in the full wind, and of course we had to head out for a donation. Again a small one, but all the bits count in the end.

Knight II is driving me to drink. Seriously, every other day he wrecks his “sock” and ends up licking at his friggin’ foot until it bleeds. Soon, all our hard work will be for nothing when we have to start at square one. I better think of something, because denim is no longer working.

Grandpa is still pretty sick, sleeping often during the course of the day. Same thing goes for mom, for that matter. Cousin Ed, too, is still not feeling all that well. Sally’s cough is almost gone, though…which reminds me, she had her doctor’s appointment today, to hear about the results, and was scared out of her mind when the photos showed that the cancer had spread in her abdomen. The doc proceeded to examine her belly, and thankfully discovered that the supposed growths were only small bruises from the injections she is getting daily for her thrombosis. Phew. A big relief that. Regretfully her lung tumor didn’t get any smaller during the past few months, and what’s worse, because she’s been so tired, they don’t want to do another set of chemo until she’s become a little stronger. I do hope that I can get her to exercise a little, because she is losing all her muscle tone.
Gawd, all this sickness lately could drive a person bonkers, I tell ya. *sigh*

Walked the visiting dogs for the last time this morning. Their “mommy” came to pick them up today, so that means no more rushing through the morning rituals so there’s time to walk them.

Cooking wise, there were three meals. Veggies with rice, with broccoli on the side. Then yesterday mash potatoes and carrots, and then today pumpkin soup. All three meals worked rather well, and there’re leftovers, so with a little luck I won’t have to cook tomorrow.
Also managed to choke down another piece of meat, so that’s yay for me.
Of course there was also dog food to cut, and prepare, with little help from grandpa, who tends to do quite a bit of it, so we have time for other stuff.

Woke with a massive kink in my neck, Saturday morning. Felt like friggin' whiplash I tell ya, and I blame the dogs. It was so cold, they spent the entire night pressing up against me, ergo the kink. Grrr

I might have finally ended up lucky in the clothes department. Might be I found a store with designs and sizes that would actually work me while still being affordable. I'll get back to you on that.


Well, that’s it for me. Time to start getting ready for bed.

Something different.

Song of the day: "Under African Skies" by Paul Simon. Such a gorgeous song…reminding me of being a little girl.

So yeah, since the market in Marbella didn't go through yesterday (it was raining friggin' buckets…what am I saying, swimming pools, hah) I decided to the take the opportunity and do tenant and myself a favor. I took her to the big market where mom and the younger sibs work. I dropped her off at mom's and then took Knight II (yes, I took him along) through the market several times.

First round he was shaking like crazy, pressing himself against me every time someone wanted to pet or take a picture. *sigh* There were plenty of those. Seriously, three times that I remember, I was surrounded by a friggin' crowd of twenty or so who all wanted to pat the horsie. That sure is the last time I'm taking him along. Sure, I had loads of nice chats with complete strangers (dog lovers, of course) but finding what I'd come there for was rather tricky.

I'll have you know that I did end up mostly successful (like 70 percent). I found the requested underwear for Sally. Yay. I found a sanding machine for grandpa, and myself. Did some wonderful haggling with a nice, very short and old, Spanish guy. We were gathered around his selection of sanding machines, and he was trying to sell me one with some damage on the sanding paper surface, and I wanted another one that looked just a little less used. We talked about Knight, of course, who was definitely top of the conversation all through the afternoon. He too had some dogs, seven of them, in fact…which were, according to him, about the size of Knight's head. Hah.
But anyway, we did some haggling and I managed to shave off an odd three bucks before we shook on it. Gawd, that is such fun, in particular if the vendors are good sports about it, know the score.

Came across several small TVs, prices varying between fifteen and eight bucks. Almost did a deposit on one, but was happy I hadn't when I came across a friend who said I could have one of hers since she wasn't using it anyway. Good deal all round, since Sally would really like to be able to watch a movie or two in her cabin, every now and then. Saves on money and on risk, for as far as I'm concerned.

Talked with an Irish couple who had friends with a Great Dane they often "babysat" for. Very typical people. Very big, very round, dressed in all cottons (old hippies is my guess) and extremely nice. Knight got patted again, hugged and then we went on once more, now looking around at a roof rack for the Opel.

Came across a couple that cost a solid fifty bucks a pop, so that wasn't happened. Then I stumbled on a small stand in a corner somewhere, where there was a couple lying about that looked reasonably good. I was examining them closer, wondering if they were suited for an Opel Astra, and asked the price (€50) when I started to doubt once more. It is very hard to scramble back once you've already asked the price and had the things in your hands, so I was already shaking my head and saying "maybe some other day". The guy actually came out of his stand and asked me what I was willing to pay for it then. He was looking pretty desperate, and I was feeling pretty bad already for getting his hopes up, so I thought I'll ask a ridiculously low price so he'll send me off.
Let's just say I now have a car rack for twenty bucks. *sigh* I feel horrible, but once he went that low, I could hardly not take it. And we do need it, ya know. But anyway.

Funny how having a large dog with you provokes a variety of responses. There are those who startle and jump away, others who are drawn to it like he’s a magnet. Some stop, stare and point, while others look annoyed.

On the most part folks responded positively, and talked a mile a minute, which is fun. In particular kids who are just bursting with questions. How come he’s so big? Will he grow more? Can I pet him? How old is he? Does he bite? And so on and on.

Talked with a Belgian woman who suggested I use a chalk paste on Knight’s paw. Works like a charm, she claims.
Chatted with an elderly Spanish couple who loved the way Knight looked and showed me pictures of their Bordeaux Bulldog. Sort of like the electronic version of proud grandparents yanking out their wallet to show sleuth of grandchildren. Hah. But they were beautiful, those dogs. So massive.
There was the Dutch family who claimed they had two dogs and a Shetland pony that was smaller than Knight. An Italian woman who started telling me about her two lap dogs and her Pyrenean mountain dog, and how her friend in the mountains of Italy had a Great Dane that was 14 years old (gives a girl hope, that).
Had a long talk with two Irish guys, one of which had two Irish setters and a pit bull. He loved his dogs, imported their food from the UK and thought Knight gorgeous. Then he started talking about his daughters, one of which had a Shih Tzu, while the other had a bitch Rottweiler who really was a bitch. Hah.
The stuff people tell complete strangers, eh?

Did look around for some pants again, but couldn’t really find anything nice this time ‘round. Three hours after arrival, the rain had stopped at last, and I rode tenant back to the car while little brother carried the stuff I bought for us. The rain didn’t resume until we reached our mountain and started on the incline.
There was a river on our drive sweep, and we both got solidly soaked through before we were inside.

So what else? Well, there was some writing of course. Passed the 80 pages mark and am liking the progress so far. The tension is slowly building, the suspicion increasing, the hints becoming more frequent. Very different from my usual style, I’ll admit. More serious, less dramatic and not at all focused on the romance side of things. We’ll have to see how it works out.

There were massive batches of laundry to do, in particular since today’s weather was a vast improvement to yesterday.

Cousin Ed took Sally to hospital today, by the way. It was time for her third round of chemo, so she’ll be feeling pretty out of it again for the next two weeks, or so.
She’s not looking well, despite the fact that the doctors say that her test results are okay, but she hanging in there, and that’s what matters.

Been working on my Chinese boxes only a little. Time is presently spare. Luckily I’m not in a hurry. The wood is starting to look pretty good, though. I love the reds, and it’s getting smoother with every treatment.

This afternoon was mostly about preparing for tomorrow’s job (we’re going to work on that balcony again). Big brother worked on putting together materials for the mold which we’re going to need tomorrow, while I emptied the trailer of the market merchandise and then shoveled it full with sand for the concrete. It took a while, but it’s now ready and waiting. We are going to have to get a batch of cement before leaving in the morning. Our own stack is almost completely gone.

There was dog food to cut and dogs to feed, of course.
Angie (the Basset with the torqued stomach) is doing better, but she will have to eat and drink small amounts n the future to prevent the problem from recurring.
Panni, little sister’s cocker is still doing badly, and the vet can’t figure out what it is exactly. At the moment he’s on prednison and antibiotics. Poor puppy.

Well, I’m going to cut it short here. Other than the stuff I’ve mentioned all I could jabber about from here on out would be cooking anyway…oh and some wood chopping, which was wonderful to get the muscles working again, so who cares. Bed time is nigh. Yay!

Vet troubles

Song of the day: “Mysterious Girl” by Peter André. I know, how weird is that. But anyway, I used to like this song a lot, made me giddy for some reason. Hah.

An eventful couple of days, mostly evolving around Nata one of our Golden Retrievers, who decided to get ill the evening before yesterday. *sigh*

But first allow me to relate yesterday to ya. It started off on the late side with me going through the usual morning rituals and heading down into the yard to water plantsies and such. We were a bit in a rush, considering we had several things to do, and be back in time to pick up Bakti, little brother’s dog at the vet. Bakti has come to an age where the opposite sex has become fascinating, so he had to have a snip-snip job done before any accidents happened (Bora is in heat at the moment).

Little brother and mom left at the crack’o’dawn (10 in the morning, hah) and once they got back, mom went to town with big brother and me. First we had to pay our bill at the garage. I hate unpaid bills, so we decided not to wait (as they offered) and paid off the last bit bright and early. Next, mom had to go to a medical center where she had her eyes and motor skills checked so she can get her Spanish Driver’s license.

A lot of pooha for something she had had for more than thirty years, but what the hey, the doctor was nice and she was helped immediately, meaning that by the time we have to go back to traffico, everything should be in order.
She was right in the middle of her check up when the vet hospital called and informed me that we could come pick up Bakti because he woke up from his anesthesia and was making a racket. Since the hospital would closer at two we had to postpone our other errands and pick him up.

Arrived about five minutes too late, but the nurse had waited for us. So we dropped mom and Bakti off at home, and went back to town to pay for grandpa’s insurance, and then get a few groceries, which will save time when on Thursday (tomorrow aaaaargh) we go for the big monthly groceries. *sigh*

That done, we headed home at around five in the evening, and I’d just changed into something more comfortable (work clothes that were really ready for the laundry pile) when big brother came to inform me that we really should go to the vet with Nata. He was looking bad, and since there appeared to be some swelling in his chest.

So there we went, out again, and arriving at the doc’s doorstep at around seven in the evening. There was the usual exam, and the possibility of us having to drive to a nearby lab for a blood-test, rather than wait for a pick up the next dry, when a test in-house showed that it was a liver problem, meaning that we’d need a more thorough test, rather than the one we could arrange on such short notice.

Since Nata was slightly dehydrated, he had to stay over so they could put him on a drip. Also, he was suffering from a fever of a 105.26, so they immediately put him on antibiotics. I hate antibiotics, in particular since I recently did some research on them and discovered that whenever you take antibiotics they kill at least one good bacteria in your body that you will never get back again. But then, there’s not much choice if you’re actually dying, is there?

So Nata got left behind for treatment and we went home more than tired of spending the majority of the day in the car. We had an edit session, of course, and then it was finally time for us to turn in in our respective beds for the night. None were happier than I…well, maybe my dogs. Lazy idiots might enjoy going to bed more than I do. Hah.

Got up an hour early this morning. Definitely wanted to have a workout again, and since for the past few months it appears to be practically impossible to get a session squeezed in at the end of the day, we decided to change the routine a little and do it in the morning. Workout was grand, by the way. Ended up exercising for about two hours and was properly warmed up by the time we finished.
Decided to make use of the warmth, and took a quick dip in the pool to wash off the sweat…I regretted that swim later (was cold, darn it) but once I got down to the yard for another quick check of everything (I love going down there in the mornings too) I warmed up nicely again.

After breakfast and locking up my dogs, we headed out to the village to visit Nata. He wasn’t much improved, but he hadn’t vomited, nor had he diarrhea. He’d been on the drip all night, and his temperature had gone down enough not to worry them anymore.

He was definitely looking at us with a hopeful expression to go home, but it wasn’t time for that. The results won’t be there ‘till later tomorrow afternoon. Poor Nata.
Anyway, we had to get a new load of cement bags, and finally got to pick up the future wood stove for the main house. It’s just as cute as I’d imagined, and it was loaded up right behind the cement bags for us to take home with us. It’s going to be so wonderfully warm in the house this winter. Just imagine how much we’ll be able to save on butane.

Once home, tenant and I walked down to the basin terrace where she helped me cook supper while big brother first helped out grandpa and then went down into the yard for more watering.

With tenant happily chopping away at veggies, I hauled a large garden lounger to the igloo for storage, and took out a mattress roll for morning workouts. I want to do some sit ups, but I am soooo not doing those on the cold hard floor, hah.

Knight II is upset with me at the moment, seeing as I’ve been away so much these past couple of weeks. He really doesn’t like it, and Chaos is often staring at me as if he is not entirely sure if he is able to trust me any longer. *sigh*

Ah well, no helping it, I suppose. Supper on the heater, I headed down into the yard to plant chard on the dams around the new onion fields, harvested two small melons, and then joined tenant so we could eat supper together.

Properly stuffed it was going back up the mountain, tenant right there with me, locking up my dogs again, and then heading out to go to Nata again. Poor Golden Retriever hasn’t been away from us for more than a few hours at a time since he was neutered some odd ten years ago, so we don’t want him to feel as if he’s been abandoned again.

He was doing marginally better, (a liver problem, as I feared) and when I asked, we were allowed to take him home with us during the night. Yay. Once he realized that he was sprung from his prison, he carefully trotted after big brother and settled on the back seat of the car without complaint.

The rest of the dogs were ambivalent about his return. Some were wary, others were psyched. In particular Rammi, who considers herself his personal groomer. The moment he was standing amidst the rest of the pack, she started cleaning his ears.

So now I have an edit to do, and then…then I’m fully intending to go to bed early. Yay.

Sick as a dog.

Song of the day: “Complicated” by Avril Lavigne. And boy was it appropriate.

I don’t know what the heck happened last night but for some reason I got sick as a dog after we got home from grocery shopping. Seriously, there was bowel movement going God knows where, vomiting and then, basically, passing out an hour before my bedtime.

The fun continued through the night, and then persisted during the morning where I woke (beyond being able to snooze some more) still feeling “the love” so to speak. I went down to the house under a cloudy sky, had several trips to you-know-where during the course of the morning.

We did some proofreading, and when big brother and grandpa left for the village to get a wheelbarrow (it’s been driving us daft to have only two what with all the projects going on) and cement for today’s outside work, and I dozed off in my chair for ‘bout half an hour. Afterwards I did some more proofreading, studied the Chicago manual thing, and then went out to start for the day.

The project of the day is pouring concrete, but instead of being able to just haul sand down from our supply I have to scrape the majority off the ground (it’s a collection of the spills from the last few weeks) sieve it clean of dirt and then use it for mixing concrete.

It’s a slow process, what with me still feeling poorly, but luckily after an hour or two, I’m deep enough into the project not to mind. With the younger sibs coming at the usual time, we manage to put down the path rather well. We finish at least and hour before sundown, and by then we have one wheelbarrow of concrete left.

Big brother and grandpa have worked by the old stable, finishing up the roof and walls, in case the predicted rains come. Though big brother is supposed to finish up the last bit of concrete, middle sister and I end up laying in a small concrete ditch by the lower gate, so the water won’t erode the ground.

Strangely enough the stomach ache doesn’t return until we’re done, so I take a long hot shower, which does improve my condition enough for me to have dinner - big brother made mac ‘n cheese - and start on the Blog. Hmmm. So now, I’ve recounted the day and I’ve not a clue as to what else to…oh yeah.

A bit of good news: Since the day before yesterday I’m officially under the triple digits (kilo wise, of course) with my weight.
Oh my, who’d have thought that I’d ever see the day that I’m going under the weight I haven’t been under since I was twelve years old; I sure didn’t.
But I gotta admit I’m noticing the weight loss more and more, heck, almost every day I’m finding bones in my body I never thought I had.

Apparently, I’ve got hipbones, shoulder blades, knees and even tendons…and I can actually just look down and see them, go figure! Hah. Big brother is warning me that a handful of pounds more and I’m going to have to be careful that I don’t get to skinny. Seriously, if someone had told me that I would need to watch out for weighing too little, I would have laughed in his or her faces.

A visit to the Vet hospital.

I wake around my usual time, hesitating for only moment whether or not I’m going to snooze on for a bit or not, and then decide on the latter when something in the air warns me that it’ll be a busy day ahead, not allowing for laziness on my part. It is a day on which there’ll be little time for “insignificant” things such as sleeping, I think, so I finish my Elfhunter reading while going through the morning’s routine, and head out of my cabin less than an hour after awakening.

My suspicions of ill tidings are confirmed by the time I get to the house and finish hanging and folding the day’s laundry, while big brother lets loose the main pack.
Clue, one of chocolate colored Pointers is barely able to come down the stairs, needing the help of big brother lest he topples over, right there at the top. His hind legs are hardly able to support him, and he has this miserable look in his woeful eyes when we examine him closely.

One has to know that Clue has never been the healthiest dog in our pack of ninety-six. Though his previous grievances were mild compared to what he has now, he has been the source of some concern over the past two years since he joined our pack. Weakness in the limbs, whining pitifully for reasons unexplained and particularly nasty cough when he was but a pup. The list has always been endless.

Clue was about four months old when we got him as a give-away dog with a family who’d found him wandering the streets. He was a tiny little thing for his age, scrawny, too, but too beautiful to leave to his fate. It was his character that worried us, right from the start, however.

Timid and shy are a mild description for the beautiful Pointer. His stature is great, though he tends to lower his head submissively, and his fur gleams and is very soft to the touch, making him a rare sight to behold amidst our large variety of breeds.

We suspect that whoever his owners were, they didn’t treat him well at all.
We’ve got several other Pointers within our lot. The Spanish variety, El Braco Español, which is white and black of color. The Viscla from the northern regions of Europe, bearing a gorgeous orange pelt. And the ghostly gray Wiemeraner branch of the Pointer breed; all of which are very straightforward in their behavior, and even snappy at times. But not Clue, he shies away most of the time, only rarely daring to come towards us without coaxing, for a quick pat on the head, before he dashes away again.

This behavior always saddens me in a dog; seeing how some pet owners, mistreat these beautiful, loyal and loving creatures. Most of the time, when we take on a new dog that has been abandoned, the majority of their acclimation period is spent undoing whatever damage is done. It is not always a successful endeavor, I’m sad to admit. For some dogs their past is just too big a hurdle to overcome, making them set themselves apart from the rest of the pack.

But back to Clue: We are unable to locate any physical damage that might be the cause of his ill health today, which has made him vomit repeatedly while his behind continues to drop to the floor. So, in the end it is decided that as soon as the younger sibs are up and about we’ll take him to the veterinary for a medical check-up.

He’s a darling when we transport him to the vet hospital, lying quietly on the backseat beside me as we head towards the village at a moderate speed– in case he’s actively hurting somewhere. Once there, I’m obliged to lift him out of the back seat while big brother holds the doors open for my passage, crooning soft words to poor Clue, who’s looking wearily at the place that he only remembers from when he was neutered.

Quiet, but thankfully showing no signs of fear, I support his rear first with one arm, and then as the waiting period draws out, I drape him over my knees to help him remain standing until the attending vet finally appears and tells us to follow her to the exam room.

With her faulty English and our miserably lacking Spanish we do in the end manage to convey the problem while she steadily checks out his vitals.
His gums are to white to any of our liking, feeling cold to the touch as well, and after applying the thermometer to our stoic looking Clue she confirms what we’d already suspected: He has a high fever and will need to be medicated for that, as well as the occasional vomiting he has been experiencing during the course of the morning.

If our usual vet had been there, we would have been allowed to stay during the X-Rays, which need to be taken while blood works are being done, but since this new young vet is the only one on call we leave Clue behind in a cage in the back of the hospital and return home.

I feel quite out of sorts when we arrive at home, giving my ecstatic dogs only absent pats as they bounce wildly around me. Mosha, in fact, literally climbs up the length of me in her exuberance, licking my face like mad, before I actually become aware of what she’s doing due to her sharp little nail digging into my chest.

With a quiet chuckle I giver her a good hug and then set her down before I go to the pantry, where Knight II is making a racket.
Due to the Great Dane’s formidable size, I have long since come to the conclusion that for my own safety, as well as that of the other dogs, it is better to lock him up in a separate room when I return from errands such as today.

If he isn’t contained when I get home, he is like an unstoppable wave of solid muscle and bone, coming at me top speed. Though it would be manageable if he were the only pet in the house, what with a good fifty milling about, barking excitedly at the return of the humans, it is simply not doable while he is still so very young.

He’s about 18 months old now, still acting like a pup and totally unaware of his might whenever he gets excited about something. Training him will most certainly be an interesting venture.

After several minutes of Chaos throwing his full weight against my hips, the Labradors vying for attention and the Cockers and Beagle circling and then penetrating the tight group from time to time for their own bit of affection, the lot finally quiets down, allowing me to release Knight’s leash and look around to see what needs to be done.

What with my feeling of disquiet, I know that my mind will drive me bonkers if I sit down and relax now, so instead, I head for the pantry once more –the dogs hot on my heels– and refill the washer before turning it on by tapping the bare carcass that lies on display now that big brother has explored the controls for breaks and such.
Amazingly it start up right on cue, leaving me to carry out the two batches that have been washed since I arrived at the house that morning, and step into the windy dusk for the final hanging of the day.

That done, and still feeling uncomfortable I decide to start on today’s dinner, consistent of Macaroni and spinach, all baked together with spices, sweet and sour chili sauce, half a red bell pepper, and onion and cheese.

However tasteful, I manage to choke down only a little. As usual during stressful times my stomach revolts at even the least bit of food consumed, but I manage to keep it down and move straight on to the front room of the Finca where our large supply of fabrics literally overflow the shelves.

The dratted closet has been a thorn in my eye for months now, and since I want to keep busy above all, little sister and I take out all fabrics –and partially finished projects– for a good sorting. It takes me a good hour to get through the lot; tossing out damaged fabrics and folding the lengths that are worth saving.

By the time I’ve lugged the neat piles back to their appointed shelves, I’m both pleased and weary, since lifting the many pounds, while navigating the dogs and going up and down the three levels that make up the main floor of the house, turn out to be a nice substitute for the exercise I didn’t have today.

While grandpa and I carry two full garbage bags to the pantry for later disposal, I decide to call the vet for an update on the tests that have been done.
A quick conversation with the very nice and experienced assistant who works there –and speaks English very well to boot– I am informed that the tests have shown to be inconclusive for Clue’s symptoms. His X-Rays showed no damage to his spine, and the blood works were fine too. Thus it is decided that he will stay there for the night, so they can monitor him until tomorrow when we can come back.

That done, along with a quick report to the rest of the worried family, I resume with the fabric storage shelves, while trying to give an enthusiastic Knight the attention he’s demanding of me.
He has this annoying habit of grabbing whatever it is I’m carrying, and after chasing him twice I set down the last pile of neatly folded fabrics, to grab him by his collar and command him to sit.

It quiets him down effectively, since he knows that if he follows the command well, he’ll get a proper treat, leaving me free to finish what I started.
Pleased with the neat end result, I decide to sit for a while, having a drink of icy water while smoking a much-desired cigarette. Still I am unable to calm my turmoil thoughts, so after half an hour, of talking and glancing at the TV occasionally, I head for the kitchen to do the evening’s dishes in little sister’s stead.

Little brother has spent the majority of the day working in the corner where the main computer stands. Cleaning surfaces, CDs and instruction books with remarkable diligence, and giving the entire house a nice clean atmosphere.

It always amazes me how we all just sort of settled in a routine of our own: Each and every one of us performing specific tasks that suit us best, creating an end result that works pretty well.

While I mostly focus on laundry, cooking and the less day-to-day tasks such as cleaning out cupboard shelves, walls and general cleaning maintenance, little sister keeps the kitchen bright and shiny on a daily basis and pitches in where she can.
Big brother tends to see to major maintenance, and the patio in which the dogs are free to roam during the night, while he AND little brother take care of the removal of garbage bags and the likes, and carry down the heavy bags of dog food every day.
Younger sister, is mostly responsible for the daily hosing down of the courtyard, and feeds the variety of other pets that honor our house.

For all the other things that need to be done, everyone just pitches in when and where they can, creating a rather well oiled machine where in the end everything gets done… at some point in time. Hah.

The dogs each have their own boss, but since mom and big brother have the most –compared to the younger sibs and I– taking care of them is also pretty much a joined effort.
When trimming needs to be done, it is organized so that it can be handled in shifts of two.
Those, with whom the dog in question tends to reside, give whatever medications are needed, and feeding time is a matter of just keeping a close eye on every pack member until all have had their share.

The dynamics of our particular family might be odd, but it works, which is all that really matters in the end.

As for today… it comes to an end unremarkably.
Trin Trin gets her seventh injection, before I whistle for my pack to follow me out of the house and courtyard and back up the mountain.
My thoughts are with Clue at the hospital, spending the night in a cage, while I feed my dogs their extra share, and spent a few minutes reading a book, and then get ready for my nightly communications on the Net.

Now all that is left for me to do tonight is give four of my dogs their daily medication and turn in for some much required sleep while the wind howls around my cabin, keeping the pesky clouds at bay once more… I hope.