Rat hunt for my birthday!

I was quite delighted when I lay down last night and found that I was able to stare out over the valley while lying in bed. It was beautiful, a play of little lights in a variety of colors, sparkling against the black, velvety backdrop of the night. The last thing I remember before dropping off, was watching the glitters in the distance, as a matter of fact.

Apparently the monsters think that rude awakening, four friggin’ hours before it’s time to get up, is a proper birthday greeting. It is not, I assure you. Nor are the hourly waking calls (a paw in my face) from Trin Trin, who wants to get up on the bed and then proceeds to jump off again, less than ten minutes after I wake and drag her up, time and again.

The ritual goes on and on, until, by the time the alarm goes, the monster Boxer and Knight II are both hanging in the foot end of my quilt, doing their very best to pull the blankets from me.
I toss a pillow in their direction, sending them scattering only momentarily and take my time stretching and yawning before I roll out of bed to let the noisy pack out into the open.

The sun is wonderfully warm when I step out onto the porch for a minute, the chilly wind is blocked by my cabin and allows me to soak up some heat before I start the morning rituals of making the bed, cleaning up any messes the dogs might have made and getting dressed.

Obviously thrilled by the sun as well, the pack has gathered on the porch and surrounding sunlit patches, their furs rapidly warming and feeling actually hot to the touch.

I’m still thrilled with the changes in my bedroom, and am already looking forward to starting on the living room later today, when I shoo the dogs away, and lock the door behind me.

It is not because of burglars or anything that I do this. Considering that the key just stays in the lock on the outside during the course of the day, it would really be a moot point. What with our pack of ninety something walking around all day, it really isn’t necessary for worry about human intruders. No, such an action is only to protect the inside of the cabin against the dogs, as a matter of fact.

There are several dogs that have long since mastered the art of using a handle, and will gleefully open any door that is closed to them. Thus came the safety measure, after some trial and error in the past.

It is no fun whatsoever to arrive at one’s quarters to find half a dozen books shredded on the floor, cushions torn to bits and scattered into every niche and crevice and clothes dragged from the wardrobe. You learn real fast how to keep unsupervised pets out through such events.

By the time I get to the house, the dogs rushing inside ahead of me, I start on laundry as soon as I’ve turned on the radio and inform big brother of the fact that he needs to get a new gasket for the heater.

Only two batches to hang and a similar amount to fold, so it is done in record time before I have a quick breakfast and put the coffee on. Next I set up my computer and get ready to reread and edit some for the full-length vampire flick big brother and I are working on, before settling in to write.

It goes well enough, I guess. I manage a page, but time is short again today, so after that one page I’m forced to shut down and start on dinner. Well, not forced, perhaps, but I feel like veggies today, and since no one else feels like cooking, it will be up to me.

No matter, soon water is boiling for pasta, and a fresh tomato sauce is bubbling with herbs, onions and canned red bell peppers, before I add cream for a softer taste. On the side I’ve nice eclectic mix of veggies to satisfy my palate today, and half an hour later we’re all having dinner and loving it.

That done, I precede big brother up to my room and start throwing out cushions and the likes so we can commence the remodeling immediately.
By the time he arrives, along with grandpa, who curiously comes along to see what’s up.
I’m just about to start on the cabinet I want removed, open the door of a couple of shelves that I haven’t used in a year…and slowly, carefully and quietly push it shut again at the sight of several rats huddling in the corner.

Gawd that startled me, but I’ve managed to keep quiet enough not to startle them into fleeing when I turn towards grandpa and big brother and inform them of my find.
After some debate big brother heads for the courtyard, where my dogs are whining pitifully as they stare up at where we’re working. We’re going to need Sitabah for this little adventure, and though the others would love a little hunting party, too, they would really just get in the way of such things.

Both Sitabah and Dax come dashing up the mountain, eagerly looking around when I call them towards the cabinet, of which I’m keeping the door firmly shut until the time has arrived. I take a minute to get Sitabah really excited, grab the handle and jump back when the two dogs face the opening. They stare straight at the stirring rat bodies inside for a full second before they pounce.

I jump out the door when the vermin scatter rapidly. The rats and I similarly impressed with Sitabah’s prowess…admittedly for vastly different reason, hah…when she snatches the first, shakes it around a bit and tosses the spasmodic body aside to chase the second.

They’re going every which way, crawling over electrical wires, furniture and paintings alike in their frantic flight with Sitabah snapping at their heels.
There are six of them, I’m shocked to see, dodging Daxie, who’s going in hot pursuit of one of the furry little buggers. He bravely faces the critter, half his size, shaking the squealing baggage like mad but failing to finish it off.

Sitabah, momentarily distracted from her attempt to crawl underneath the couch, speeds after him, easily snapping the wriggly rat from his grasp and killing it expediently.
Two down, three vanished without a trace through the open window, and one hiding somewhere in the mess that used to be my living room.

Since we can neither see, nor hear it, big brother and I start removing the cabinet in its entirety. As it turns out, the critters have pretty much decimated the back cover, and since a most disturbing smell drifts up from it, we carry the thing out of the cabin and immediately toss it on the truck-bed.

Next we remove my books…there are hundreds of them, or so I realize when slowly my bed gets completely covered by them, until at last all the bookcases are empty and we can start on removing them, taking off a section and then placing the remainder against the opposite wall.

Halfway through, Sitabah pounces on my shoe cabinet, digs in and jubilantly reappears with a wriggly gray body clenched between her teeth. Victoriously she prances around the room a bit, preening in our vocal praises, before she hops onto the couch and cracks the critter’s skull, and drops it with what appears to be disappointment.

She has this proud look in her eyes, coming over for a quick pat on her head before she goes back to check if the rat is really dead, and then resumes her vigil of every nook and cranny in the room.
Three successful hunts, and she wants more. Hah. Good dog!

Once the corpse is removed, big brother and I resume our project.
It is terrifyingly cold tonight. The heater certainly can’t compete as our extremities slowly drop in temperature, urging me to more speed, lest it gets too bad.

Not wanting to waste the removed part of the bookcase, we attach it to another section, which takes up most of the northern wall.

Once everything is properly attached, the out-of-season chest moved to a corner, and small drawers shoved out of the way, the couch is pushed against the west wall, creating a wonderful amount of space. As an added bonus, I now have a blank wall on which I can hang one of my paintings. Yay! I missed my paintings.

The drawers are piled together, and big brother and I spend the next hour or so carrying back the books to the shelves.
What with brother only wearing slippers over socks, he is forced to leave me alone with the remainder of the task. But I don’t mind. I can be fussy about where which book needs to go, and I spend the remainder of the evening organizing the books until they’re all lined up to my satisfaction, and then continue with cleaning the floors.

At long last I’m done. It is close to midnight when I return to the main house and soak up the heat now that I’ve noticed that the chill was really bad enough to make my insides shiver and my teeth chatter…almost.

Little sister has a surprise when I settle in the chair that faces the heater. While we were working on my room, she’s made another cake–this time for my real birthday– and I enjoy the treat while watching a recorded episode of “Life”.

With my insides still shaky, and my skin painfully warm now that I’m getting back to my usual temperature, I am actually dreading going up to my room. I know I’ll be cold again, even though I left the heater on, and this proves to be correct when I open the door and let the dogs dash inside.

Sitabah leads the way, hopeful of some more hunting only to be left disappointed.
I do some more organizing…there’s still some that needs to be done, but in the end I settle behind my computer and start on the night’s chats, leaving cleaning to tomorrow.

I’m tired, a little achy, but on the overall it was a good birthday.

Rearranging furniture, yay.

Another chilly night passes much too fast. I was all ready to go to bed last night–an hour before my usual sleeping time, mind you–only to end up going to bed half an hour late. I’m amazed at how I manage it every single time, but…well, it takes skill, I guess.

Anyways, I had a very interesting dream, which I would share, but it was kinda personal and…ehm…intimate, if you get my drift, so I’ll just revel in it by myself. Hah.

I’d planned to get up an hour early, or so, but by the time the monster wakes me, just a few measly hours after I drift off to sleep, I decide to just sleep ‘till my usual time instead, and do so by keeping the monster boxer in a headlock for the last few hours remaining. She definitely enjoys it, snoring in my ear and enjoying the warmth of the blankets that I’ve dragged over both of us. She actually doesn’t start messing about again until the alarm goes off.

I throw the dogs out, quick, looking around the messy cabin and reaffirming my determination about doing some serious changes later today. The old settings have become dark and unsatisfying, and I’m ready for a change that’s a fact.

By the time I head down to the house, knowing full well that I’ve postponed workout long enough and need to get at it today.

The day feels freezing cold, even though the sun’s shining brightly overhead when I enter the courtyard and frown at the laundry hanging there, which I will have to take down an hour from now.

With the dogs swirling around me, I enter the chilly house, heading immediately for the heaters, and lighting one up before I deposit my baggage in the kitchen, and scowl at my workout clothes. Knowing that there’s no help for it, I change into them, shivering continuously while I move to the heater and start doing my warm ups right in front of it.

The movements, combined with the heat, warm me up at a rapid speed, thankfully, and soon I hardly feel the cold anymore as I get into the “shwung” of the exercises.
By the time I reach the boxing bag, wearing socks for the first time, the high kicks are a little off-balance. I’m really not used to doing these spin-kicks with socks under my feet and it makes me a little nervous. Still, I manage them well enough without major disaster occurring. There are a few near misses with careless dogs, but luckily none of them is send flying, because I manage to divert my aim in the nick of time.

Since big brother and grandpa have disappeared outside to fix the fence…again…I take longer than usual on the five-jabs routine, but in the end I have a full hour of workout under my belt and head for the shower ASAP. This, too, takes longer than usual, my muscles protesting from the cold, and lower back feeling a bit sore–probably because of the somewhat clumsy sock episode–until I finally decide I’ve wasted enough water and electricity and get dressed.

What comes next is getting the dry batch of laundry inside, and bringing the wet back out for hanging. The dirty laundry is almost completely gone at last, so I hope that tomorrow will bring more sunshine for proper drying. It’s such a novel idea, not having any laundry that I’m actually looking forward to seeing both the laundry room and lines empty for a change.

At long last, with the dry neatly folded by big brother and me, we chat with grandpa for a bit. It is now official. He heard it on the news. This is the coldest winter in Spain in the past fifty years. I knew I wasn’t imagining it when big brother, who tends to walk around in an undershirt and slippered feet, at most, during the winter, actually complained about cold feet and wore a sweater. Miracles do not cease to occur, apparently.

By the time I’ve fed Yadzia, and had a BLT myself, I settle behind the computer, and have another crack at the “what if” story, only to end up with little more than a page to show for the several hours of belaboring the twists of the tale. Since it is obviously not working, big brother and I do an edit for the second chapter instead.

About an hour after dusk, I’ve had enough for the day, and declare that I really want to do something about my room today, and head up the mountain with only Mosha and Dax as company…fully expecting big brother to follow as soon as possible.

First things first: I need to take out the cushions and rugs on the floors, creating a semblance of space to work in, and then proceed to take out blankets, sheets and mattress, around which time big brother arrives and activities commence for real.

The bed is screwed from the wall, cabinets are shifted out of the way, and the floors are scrubbed clean before we reposition the bed against the northern wall. Busy dogs and lots of weight from human and canine bodies alike have had their effect on the structure, so after some debate, we fortify the structure with a strong wooden beam, and then start attaching it to the wall and floor, so the dogs won’t move it around–in effect making it crash at some point.

It takes quite some time to get everything back in place, including the exchange of a high drawer with a low cabinet that I decide to hang on the wall instead. It’s not until eleven in the evening that there’s a semblance of order that allows us to return to the house for a quick snack and some relaxation.

Upon asking little brother how Sita is doing, he informs me that the swelling is going down some, and she’s happy enough lounging upstairs where the sibs are keeping themselves occupied with their computers and whatnot, doing their thing.

I watch a rather silly episode of “Psych” followed by “Dead Like Me” but it doesn’t really capture my interest before it is time to gather my dogs after one in the morning and drag my weary limbs back up the mountain.

For the next few hours I proceed to sort through my wardrobe, putting summer clothes away in the copper chest in my living room, and taking out the remainder of winter clothes to fit into my closet.

There are quite a few things stored in the chest that I haven’t seen for years, and while making my picks I do some fitting, and realize that I can actually wear them again. Wow. It’s like buying new stuff, and I’m pretty darn thrilled when I store them in my closet for later use. Added to that fortunate discovery, big brother also found out that even though my CD player doesn’t work anymore, I can still use the machine if I attack one of our MP3 players to it. That is certainly going to save us some serious money, which is always a good thing.

Recycling. I love it in every shape and form. Nothing feels better than being able to reuse something I thought useless before, saving precious Euros.

I will still need to do more cleaning tomorrow, and remove some old furniture from my living room, but things are looking very good at the moment. The new arrangement makes things look a lot roomier, and though some adjustments will have to be done, it feels good. Almost like being in a new bedroom, which for some reason seems lighter.

When I’m done at last with the sort-through of clothes, big brother and I talk on the house phone for a bit, mulling about our book projects and the intended return to the vampire flicks in the next few days, before I finally get to my messages online and smile at the birthday wish I’ve received from one of my myspace buddies.

Handy those birthday reminders: If it weren’t for those, I might even forget the entire thing. Haha!…Or maybe not: I’m certainly feeling every one of the thirty years that I’ve had behind me now that the 10th has arrived.
I’m exhausted after all the lifting and hauling, which was unheard of before my twenties…weird how things change…but it’s a good exhaustion. It certainly feels better than hanging around doing nothing constructive.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Not much.

Not much to write about today. It was quiet day on the overall, very cold, even two heaters couldn’t keep things warm and I can feel it in my bones even now.

After going to the house this morning I immediately lit the heaters–it was a rather disconcerting chilly night, and I had to pack up completely–I feed Yadzia and myself and then set up the computer.
I manage to write about a page for my “what-if” novel, but it goes slowly, partly due to the cold that makes my fingers feel like clumps of ice.

Sita is doing well, her eye socket is swollen, but otherwise she acting like her normal self, trotting about as if nothing happened, even with the cone-collar she’s wearing.

Around dusk, little sister and I decide to make vegetable flatbread for dinner, along with a try-out cake for my birthday the day after tomorrow.

Both are successful and are eaten with relish. Being the salty types the flatbread even goes down better for most of us, leaving only small portions for tomorrow, if at all.

For the rest of the night we really just take it easy, watching some TV, “House” and “The Mentalist” were on, so it was entertaining, but still, I would much rather have been doing something more constructive.

Instead, by the time the evening draws to an end, I feel pretty darn deflated as I head up to my room and wonder what I can do tomorrow to keep me occupied.
There’s got to be something.

Another visit to the vet's

Well, as promised I was two hours early going to bed last night, crawling under the blankets and settling in for sleep–I was very tired–only to lie awake ‘till my usual sleeping time and drifting off a mere three hours before I had to get up to take Sita to the vet hospital where she had to get her eye-surgery.

I hate it when that happens. It totally defeats the purpose of going to bed early and I can’t stand lying awake, my mind awhirl and feeling all sorts of itches all over my body that have no business being there, but always come when I’m trying to sleep.

It is freezing cold when I wake, even my small, but strong heater can’t battle the temperatures outside when I drag myself out of bed and stumble to the door to let the dogs out into the sunny morning. The alarm, which I’ve forgotten to shut off, is still screeching by the time I stumble back and grab the infernal thing from the shelf and shut it off, before straightening the blankets and starting on the speedy morning ritual.

I’m not feeling too bad, on the overall, and manage to get dressed, move the dogs to the house and be ready for departure by the time big brother brings out Sita and deposits her in the car. The poor Cocker Spaniel doesn’t know what’s going on, and settles up against grandpa after we’ve shoved his moped on the truck-bed and head on out to the village. The moped is giving some trouble, and grandpa hopes that they can fix it during the day.

Sita is given a quick check when we arrive at the hospital, and when the young vet finishes, I ask if she can give the nervous twelve-year-old cocker a shot of morphine and relaxant so she won’t be so traumatized by being left there for the day.
The injection works within minutes and I carry the barely conscious dog to the back of the hospital where she is put in a cage until her surgery is supposed to commence.

Our regular vet has arrived by then, and we exchange a quick hello before I inquire about when we can come and pick Sita up. It is a relative simple surgery, I know. It will take our vet–who specializes in eye-surgery–and with the assurance that he’ll take care of Sita we leave for home.
Once there, I change into warmer clothes and head on to the house where my pack impatiently awaits my return in the cold courtyard.

Bunch of idiots. They could be sitting inside where it’s warm, but no. Can’t go in the house where they aren’t able to keep an eye on the carport and in effect my return. Some of them are actually shivering with both cold and excitement when I slip through the courtyard gate and shoo them inside.

Big brother is up, too, and for the next hour or so we go through the normal morning chores before, by the time we’re folding laundry we decide that we’re both really too tired and are dreading the day ahead considerably. We had planned to use this early start as a writing opportunity, but since we know that we need to go to school later tonight, sleep is imperative.

Discussing our options for a bit, and both of us being incredibly cold, we choose sleep and each head for our designated quarters with our packs in hot pursuit. My dogs appear thrilled as a matter of fact and soon settle down in their usual places as I crawl under the blankets and snuggle up against warm canine bodies to drift off to sleep for two more hours.

With the second awakening, I’m nicely revived and don’t bother with the morning rituals when I return to the main building where the heaters quickly make the temperatures bearable.
Since I’ve eaten French bread with lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red bell pepper, some cheese and a delicious yogurt sauce when I returned from the vet, I’m not hungry and just grab a cup of coffee while I set my computer up.

There won’t be time for writing today, I know, so instead I go online for some messages and chats before I need to scramble to get ready for school. Big brother’s hair has grown some during the past two weeks or so, so I use the trimmer to shave it all off again less then twenty minutes before we have to depart.

I’m surprised how well the “bald” look suits him. He used to wear his hair shoulder-length, but then, about seven months ago he decided that all the fuss was too much to bother with and asked me to shave it all off for the first time in ten years. The long hair looked well enough, I guess, but this isn’t bad either. I see a little Dominic Purcell (Prisonbreak’s Lincoln Burrows) in him and that’s a surprise. I’d doubted if the look would suit him, but luckily it does.

That done, I head on up to my cabin to dress in my school clothes and wobble my way to the car since I was stupid enough to don my high-heeled boots for a change. High-heels are really not a smart thing to wear on uneven mountain surfaces, but in town I do like to keep my feet familiar with the different pose that took me ages to get used to. The first few times felt like I was walking on shards of glass after just five minutes, and since that feeling has disappeared since then, I have no particular desire to repeat the acclimation period any time soon…if ever.

We head to town, the exact time we’re supposed to, arriving at school around six to start another tedious session of doing tests on paper. The dratted computers still haven’t been fixed, I fear. But it goes well. We manage four tests each, and I only had three wrong answers in total. Moving up, at least.

Butane kegs need to be acquired again, and since the place where they’re sold in town is already closed we head for the village where we’re supposed to pick up Sita, in hopes that there will be at least five kegs that should keep us warm for a few days.

Before heading for the hospital, we pop into the bazaar beside it to buy some plastic containers for the kitchen, a narrow garbage tube for the build-in disposal and some one-piece neck warmers for me. They’re so handy compared to the wrap-around shawls.

Five past eight, the exact time we were expected to come for Sita, I walk into the hospital and ask the vet how the operation went. All’s well and after I get the usual spiel about how to follow up on Sita’s treatment I take the poor Cocker to the car, where she immediately jumps into big brother’s arms and wants a solid petting.

Not much has changed for Sita, what with the removal of her second eye, but still, it is a sad thing to happen. Luckily Sita knows the house so well that she hardly ever knocks into anything and knows her way around by heart. She’s had practice, I guess. What with having been blind for almost three years, it’s only the pain of surgery that’s different. Luckily that can be dealt with through pain medication.

The butane supply in the village allows us to stock up for the next few days, and with that final task done we head back home, where Sita ecstatically throws herself at little brother who awaits our arrival in the car port.

Our purchases get moved into the house, and after I’ve once again dressed into warm house clothes I face my jubilant pack for the second time this day. No difference in their behavior. They act as if they haven’t seen me for a week as I struggle my way through them, trying to dodge the nips as bites of welcome from the labs and cockers, while Chaos throws his full weight against my hips time and again.

Little sister has made onion cheese rolls for dinner, and I add the same ingredients I used this morning to get my daily dose of veggies in before I settle down in the living area to catch my breath and watch some TV.

I can’t muster much energy for anything as I sit there, debating myself about doing something constructive with my time before we put on the latest recording of “Prisonbreak” and watch it through. Afterwards, big brother and I finally decide to try to get at least an hour’s work on the computer in.

The past few weeks have been horrid, work-wise. Constant distractions such as responsibilities and necessary tasks that need to be performed keep cutting into writing/editing hours, and it is frustrating as heck.

Since I want to work on my full-length thriller novel, big brother finally ventures into editing for something other than romance, and is pleasantly surprised by my completely different style in this story. Heck, he even compares it to Michael Crighton, which tickles my funny bone as he makes his way through four pages and I write down one of the book that already counts more than two-hundred pages, and still isn’t near it’s end.

By then the eve has come to its end, and I wrap things up to head out of the house and take my dogs to the cabin. The temperatures have dropped even more, and even though grandpa was thoughtful enough to switch my heater on almost an hour ago, making it bearable, I’m freezing by the time I feed the dogs, change into my pjs and set up my computer for the night.

Let’s hope that tomorrow will allow for more writing.