Well, it sucks.

I wake up three times during the night, the nagging ache in my leg persistent enough to warrant a careful change of position that becomes impossible to find about six hours after bedtime. By this time I’m forced to pop a new dose of painkillers if for the sole purpose of getting at least another hour of sleep. I manage two more hours instead and then have to get up…if for no other reason than the pack making a racket and threatening to start bouncing on me.

Getting up I realize the problem ahead when I find myself clumsily dodging my way through the dogs and stay at a good for feet’s distance from the front door, debating at how I’m going to achieve unlocking it without undue discomfort. I’m not at all looking forward to wading between the thronging masses of fur and muscle, each and every one of them waiting impatiently for freedom, and yet that stupid door is not going to open on itself.

I end up leaning over the dogs awkwardly to turn the key and then stagger back one step on my good leg when they break free and dash into the morning sunlight.
Still a tad unstable (emotionally, that is) I need to take several calming breaths. It is fear that’s keeping me off an even keel, I think. The pain is bearable to say the least, but it is the thought of having the dogs slam into the fragile joint that has me hyperventilate for a bit. Fear, it is a nasty thing.

With some difficulty, I manage to get dressed, very slowly, in sweats, pack up my bag and exit the cabin after only half of the usual morning rituals.
Standing on the porch, I stare at the steps–one’s still missing–and for a moment panic as I wonder how the heck I’m going to get off…and then walk down the uneven path leading towards the house to boot.

By this time grandpa has arrived in carport and assures me that he’ll carry my bag and follow closely behind as I decide to carefully lower myself on my butt and slide off the porch instead of using the steps. It goes pretty will, and using mom’s cane to keep the dogs off, as much as for balance, I start on the slow progress of descending the mountain.

My left leg is complaining considerably by the time I finally make it into the courtyard. The dogs dash ahead of me and walk straight into big brother who’s awaiting my arrival and thankfully keeps them all at a safe distance from me.
Seeing as laundry certainly isn’t going to work today, I only have a quick breakfast (standing on one leg, of course. It’s like playing hopscotch all over again, hah) and put the coffee on before I sit down on the table so we can inspect the damage in the bright light of day.

My lower leg is swollen a bit and the bandages have left a deep impression around my knee, but other than that the arnica gel appears to have done it’s job during the night. There’s only a slight swelling on the left side of my knee, where most of the discomfort is located, and I prod at the limb for a bit to be absolutely sure that the kneecap wasn’t damaged during the entire debacle.

All seems well, and by the time big brother and grandpa are forced to head outside to fix another fence, I stagger around the house, gathering what I need to have a quick shower. This is certainly not an easy task with one leg not functioning properly. Heck, even with two fully functioning legs it’s tricky on most days. To get to the shower, I need to go through the recently hosed down patio, where tiles (now wet) cover the floor. It can be dangerously slippery in there, and I carefully limp through it. In the end I manage to reach the shower safely and get the task over and done with.

Though there is some debate about whether or not we should go to school today, I finally do convince big brother that my present state has little to do with my brain, so the impending trip is agreed upon with a promise that I won’t push anything and let him know if halfway through I can’t keep it up anymore, so we can go home instead of doing our usual hour and a half.

Admittedly a knee has no actual connection with brains, it is distracting. Writing, which was my main plan for the day isn’t working, what with focus being elusive, so I end up chatting online a bit and then read from one of the review books on the computer instead, until it is time to leave for school.

Prudently I start my way up to the cabin at least ten minutes early, and need every single minute of that extra time to get ready until we’re finally on our way to town.
Much to my relief it is a quiet day at the school when we arrive, not warranting any unnecessary explanations as we head on in to the back and start on the tests.

For me the process is a slow one today, but in the end I manage 210 questions with only one error, which is an excellent score and matches that of big brother who got ninety more questions under his belt, hah.

Next, we head for a big supermarket, and rather than wisely stay in the car–the way big brother suggested–I decide to go along. I limp inside thinking that all’s going pretty well, right until we’re in the middle of the massive chain store and the eighth hour of my painkiller arrives. Darn things! And here I thought it was going so well. Apparently it was doing an excellent job since now I’m leaning more than a little on the cane, wondering if my kneecap’s going to turn into a melting bit of lava and ooze it’s way to my foot. I just barely make it back to the car to catch my breath.

Luckily we only have one more store to go and then it’s back home for us…to my infinite relief.
Heading into the house, using the cane to keep the dogs from jumping up at me, the way they usually do, I dig into my bag for the painkillers immediately and douse a couple before I settle in a chair and after several minutes of breathing exercises start on dinner, prepared and handed to me by a worried looking little sister.

While in town, we rented Ben Stiller’s “Tropic Thunder”, which keeps us entertained for the rest of the evening that I spend lounging back on a chair with my legs propped up. Very decadent, and almost too relaxing, since my eyelids keep drooping down.

I found the movie to be a pleasant surprise. Robert Downey was downright brilliant in it, proving his mettle as an actor…especially in the end where he did a downright scary impression of Mel Gibson in the Lethal Weapon series. I was watching it, listening, and it was almost freaky. Heck, for a moment there we even wondered if Mel had perhaps lip-synced in that particular part. But it wasn’t just his voice, or accent; it was everything, the shifty, wide-eyed look, and the flash of teeth. Marvelous.

Though the story could have been better, it were the details that really made the movie a success for us…The fact that Tom Cruise was a not so charming character for a change was also a nice bonus, of course. Never thought I’d see the day where Cruise played an ugly sleaze ball. Hah.

By this time the evening has come to an end and I manage to wrestle my way up to my cabin again…only to call big brother on the house phone when I find that I still need a full bag of dog food to be carried inside. Though the painkillers are doing an excellent job of keeping my knee numb, I decide not to risk doing the lifting and carrying myself, lest I do some damage without actually noticing it.

I do know that through this entire busted knee thing, I’m happier than ever of having lost almost sixty pounds over the past few years, and that I have been effectively working out several times a week. I certainly do not want to contemplate what a complete disaster this discomfort would be without me being in shape and lugging all that extra weight around. Phew.

But anyway, big brother and I end up chatting for quite some time while my dogs are eating, and when he finally departs for his own quarters, it is already past two in the morning, making me hurry through the evening rituals so I can finish up for the day.

Minor disaster. *sigh*

So, I’ve been wondering if disaster was going to strike for weeks now, and yes a minor one did, just a couple of hours ago. Wonderful! It really is…and yes that is sarcasm you’re reading there. Hah.

But first the day, wouldn’t want to interrupt the usual routine by something like this, so here we go:

Last night getting to bed in time was a disaster, and I didn’t actually manage that monumental feat until six in the morning, making me at least twenty minutes late when it is time to rise, and I’m more than a little annoyed with the entire thing.

Luckily this isn’t a workout day, so all I really have to do was take down dry laundry and organize some of the mess in the kitchen. It doesn’t matter that little sister meticulously cleans all the counters each and every night with care; every morning there will be something that needs to be done.

No matter, however, it is a beautifully sunny day–without wind for a change–and seeing as we’re going to need to make head shots soon, big brother and I decide to take the dogs on a walk out in the garden so we can soak up some rays.
It’s a bit of hassle, even without the younger siblings’ packs, because Knight II and Trin Trin (the monster boxer) has a tendency to pounce on other dogs whenever she gets excited.

First big brother attempts to take the boxer with him–tightly leashed of course, because all his dogs are swirling around him, as usual–while I follow from a slight distance with my pack surrounding me and Knight II who’s clasped firmly by the chain attached to his collar.
Though Trin Trin doesn’t much like the idea of leaving the house without me…she thinks this to be the case…brother manages to get her as far as the courtyard gate when she realizes that I’m close behind and starts to throw up a fuss.

Understanding that this isn’t going to work this way, I take the boxer from big brother’s hands, while he, instead, will keep a close eye on Knight II who’s bouncing about, still indecisive about who he’s going to bother on this extraordinary little outing.

Luckily I manage to get to the top of the mountain without major mishaps, what with big brother taking a different path, allowing the dogs to find their interaction on their own and thus remain relatively peaceful.

It is a wonderful day to be outside, I admit, the sun shining brightly overhead and giving a beautiful view of the valley and the sea below. Off the west the top of a mountain is covered in snow, while lush green hills stretch all around, allowing me to snap quite a few pictures that are bound to end up online at some point.

We stay outside for a least and hour, playing with the exuberant dogs, enjoying the sunshine and basically just chatting about nothing consequential. When the time to return to the house has arrived with the distinct feel of a hot skins that haven’t seen proper daylight in weeks, the dogs are out of breath and literally running to the water bowl to quench their thirst.

Once back inside, we set up our computers to start work for the day. I already know that little is going to get done, and taking that in consideration I get online to do some fun chats and post the review of the medieval novel I finished reading this morning.

I think it came out well enough. No spoilers for those don’t want them and yet enough information for potential readers to get an idea of the story. Heck, I wish I got a review like that someday, hah. It was deserved, however. I had a wonderful time reading it.

After this I get offline and attempt to focus on writing instead. I only manage a page and half, or so, which is fine considering I’ve written a lot over the past week. With this page, I’ve now brought the story up to at least half the length, and that is worth celebrating every day in my book.

I feel a tad restless for some reason, and after spending a while cleaning my computer keys (piles of dog hair have somehow found their way beneath them) I put the laptop safely away.

A new batch of laundry is done by now and I hang it during dusk with the MP3 player pounding in my ears, just the way I like it. Next I move on to cleaning kitchen drawers, which have, of course, accumulated quite a bit of dirt during the rain we’ve had during the course of the weeks. I am most pleased about the ease with which the dirt comes off. It indicates that we did an excellent painting job.

While I’m doing this, little sister is cooking dinner. A sturdy vegetable potato mash served on large chapatti-like pancakes since it is an Indian dish. It is delicious, but for no reason that I can fathom, I only manage to eat a small portion.

I’m not feeling at all well at this time. My eyes are drooping constantly, and my mood is everything but cheerful even through watching “House” and “The Mentalist” which were both good episodes.

By the time “Las Vegas” (it always follows the two others) draws to an end, and with it the evening, I’m already pondering my eminent departure for my cabin, looking forward to turning in early when disaster strikes.

I’m seated in my usual place, Knight II is snoozing a couple of feet away from me, curled up in an old chair that hardly holds his considerable form, when noises of descending dogs on the stairs startle him to full alertness.

I sit up, already snapping a warning at him…which he ignores, the big lug…and lash out my leg to stop his progress as he comes barreling past full force, fully intending on starting his usual barking contest with black Barahm from the bottom of the stairs.

The moment his large, heavy body (a solid 100 pounds, if not more) slams into the side of my lower leg I hear–and feel–something snap. Viciously! The room around me turns black and white for several second when on pure instinct I jerk my leg back and out of his way. I can’t think when I wrap one arm under my screaming knee and press down on the top of the other, which sets of a whole new sort of ache, right on the heels of crashing waves tumbling up the limb. Another pop, this one softer, but by no means any less painful.

Around me I hear “What? What! What happened?” as I either hiss or whimper. The questions are coming from the startled sibs when I utter something that might resemble the growl of a rabid dog before a stream of barely articulate swearing start spurting from my mouth. I can’t answer them at all, since my full focus is on breathing in and out in a rather choppy fashion.

Holy crap! It hurts! Which are thoughts that constantly tumble through my mind when the blinding pain slowly ebbs to an ominous throb that has me nauseous and squeeze my eyes tightly shut while keeping my knee locked against my chest. For a minute there I fear that I’m going to vomit, panic rising since I’m pretty sure that I won’t be able to get up from the chair at all…let alone hurry for the bathroom.

I’m afraid to move the leg, especially since my foot is completely numb, but by the time I’ve managed to grunt between clenched teeth about what I think happened, big brother comes to my side with a bag of frozen corn to place on my knee raised knee.
He asks me if I can move my toes, and after a couple of tentative attempts they do– even though I cannot actually feel them–at which time my teeth start to chatter and shock settles in with a chill that runs through my whole body, except my face, which is flaming red, I’m sure.

I hate crying, but it comes automatically when carefully big brother helps me remove shoe and sock from my foot that feels like it’s being cut off, and within several minutes we have my leg stretched out.

There is an insistent whine in the entire appendage, and I’m literally a mess as I sputter and try to control my breathing that stutters from my lungs in sync with the chattering of my teeth. Might be funny to see, but to do…well, it’s annoying.
While big brother is inspecting the damage, middle sister starts looking for Arnica gel and comes up empty handed, since for the life of me I can’t remember where I put it after the last time I used it.

With my knee getting pretty numb from the bag of icy corn, and the dull ache bearable, we decide for me to move to my room immediately, while the shock is still doing its job, and start on the seemingly endless way up to my cabin.
I lean heavily on mom’s cane, middle sister carrying my bag and the like while I slowly make my way up and finally reach the end of the path.

Admittedly, I’m a little frantic and more than a little upset when I finally climb the steps and enter the room, with middle sister watching worriedly. Together we start digging through cabinets and likes until finally locating the gel that is designed specifically for these kinds of mishaps.
I’m most grateful to middle sister who sees to my dogs while I apply the gel and wrap two supports around the throbbing knee that appears to be turning blue while I’m working on it.

The gel gives almost instant relief, which sets off a whole new set of tears as I mutter my displeasure at a guilty looking Knight II. Amazing how dogs always sense that they did something wrong. Now if only they thought about that before actually causing damage…ah well. I always knew that a Great Dane was going to open up a whole new can of worms.

Big brother comes up as well, bringing anti-shock rescue remedies and a few items I forgot to have middle sister take up, and helps with the remaining chores that need to be seen to every evening. By this time I’ve calmed down a bit and actually manage to control the chatter of my teeth and breathing enough to give a proper recount of what happened.

In the end, with big brother’s departure, I get through the evening rituals–be it on the slow side–and come face to face with a new problem: Getting onto my bed (it’s high, almost three feet) without using my knee as a boost, or twisting it when I use the other. It is a rather uncomfortable experience, but at last I’m seated, my leg stretched before me and wrapped up tight and I wait for the ibuprofen to start working.

At long last I turn the computer on in hopes of winding down for the night.

Unexpected vet visit.

The day starts bright and sunny, the windstorm of the night having been laid to rest sometime during the early morning hours, leaving a tranquil and clear day to enjoy.
I wake at the usual time, blinking at the ceiling while my body whines for another hour of sleep, when I know that I can’t, if I want to keep up the usual schedule.

In the end I win the battle I usually lose and roll out of bed to start the day. I get my morning reading done, make the bed and get dressed to head for the house.
Before I’m done, a ruckus outside draws my full attention. Due to the rain the upper patio door doesn’t close well enough for the lock to work, and the large pack has come bursting outside, colliding head-on with my dogs.

Not at all willing to share this moment of freedom with the others, my dogs spring to attention in less than a second. Fights are about to ensue, too, when I jump between the opposing sides, shouting dire warnings and dispersing random slaps at coiled rumps and torsos until at last the wave of canine bodies subsides back through the doorway from which they came. I would like to say that it is my dominating presence that causes this steady retreat, but I fear that it is my personal pack’s impressive snarling that has the most effect. Hah.

Keeping a wary eye on my pack, all of their furs standing on end in aggression, as I go down the four steps in pursuit of the escapees and kick the door shut after the last dog slips inside. Still grumbling from the unwelcome adrenaline rush, I return to my cabin, constantly berating my pack for their aggression and quickly finish the morning rituals. This could have turned out to be a really nasty fight. Had I hesitated to intervene for even ten more seconds, damage would have been numerous on both sides that is a fact.

Upon arriving at the main house, and setting aside my bag, I immediately grab my exercise clothes and change into them when I notice that time is once again ahead of me.

The workout takes up to seventy minutes today, mostly due to the fact that big brother and grandpa need to go check out the water main, which isn’t supplying one of our tenants with water. This leaves me with the majority of the pack–including my own– both sides still harboring some competitiveness towards each other after this morning’s unexpected fracas.

Still, all the routines and reps get done, allowing me to shower and then have breakfast by the time big brother and grandpa return.
Once we’ve settled behind our computers for today’s work, we’re relatively undisturbed for two hours before the younger sibs arrive, once again sending the dogs into a frenzy when three groups are let into freedom and need to mix with the dogs that are already roaming the house.

Though it is a noisy affair, on the most part it is quite an impressive sight. Together our number of dogs is a pack that lives in relative peace with each other; (excluding the occasional disagreement between several fight-happy members, of course) they play together, eat together and genuinely enjoy each other’s company while still keeping close to their individual human masters.
During the nights they easily split up into smaller packs that are closer still, while never really breaking the bond between the whole.

There are some dogs that don’t get along, naturally. Some characters just don’t go together, but that doesn’t take away the beauty of small individual packs fluidly coming together on any given day with little to no trouble at all. According to our vets this is quite an amazing feat, and seeing it happen again and again, every single day, I have to agree.

However, no matter how well our pack gets along, it does not prevent the occasional mishap. Which is what occurs today, sometime after the younger sibs have awakened and are working on their own chores with diligence and little to no communication. (None of the younger sibs are talkative early in the morning, and this shows when they move about their business without so much as a “good morning”. Hah.)

I am just about to start on the third page of today’s session when middle sister breaks the usual silence and states that Bambi, one of our crossbreeds, is sporting an ugly gash in the back of his hip.

Big brother immediately sets to finding the dog that is always roaming through the garden during this time of day, and spends several minutes on the search when middle sister finds the dog and drags the unwilling canine down for an inspection.

It takes little more than a glance to see that a trip to the vet is warranted. In all likelihood Bambi got nipped in the butt during one of the two releases today, giving him the display of sinew and muscle that lays bare a large portion of the inside of his hind leg.

Though the dog doesn’t appear to feel much of it, we decide not to wait too long, and head on out to the vet in less than fifteen minutes. The waiting period at the hospital is relatively short as the assistants and receptionist cluck their concern over a wound that is less severe than some we’ve had to deal with in the past, and soon the vet examines the damage.

We’re not surprised to hear that they’re going to need to stitch it up and after they give Bambi a mild sedative we’re back on our way home with the promise to return two hours later to pick him up again.

After reporting the progress at home, and greeting the pack, which jumps on us the moment we enter the house, I start on dinner, figuring that I might as well get it done before we have to leave again to get Bambi from the hospital.

With dinner over and done with, the dishes done, two hours have gone by and it’s time to head on out to the car. The wind has picked up again, and Dax, who always follows me by sneaking through the fences, jumps into our path, just as we’re about to pull away from the gate. Rather than waste the time to bring him back inside we take him with us to the village.

Bambi is making quite a ruckus when we arrive and comes storming straight at us dragging the poor assistant behind him. He is more than eager to go home, while the vet is giving instructions about the treatment for the next few days.

There’s a triangular section on his hip that shows the size of his wound in full, especially since the skin has been shaved clean. A drain has been inserted to prevent swelling, and this will need to be taken out in five days or so, while the stitches need to stay in for about two weeks.

None of this is new to us, and we ensure the vet that we’ll handle it, as she nods–once again remembering our number of canine companions and the mishaps they tend to get into.
Within fifteen minutes of arrival we’re heading on back, Bambi on the seat beside me, sighing in relief, or so it seems.

Once at home, I find myself to be oddly tired, and lounge in front of the TV for about an hour when I notice my eyes starting to droop.
Rather than risk falling asleep where I sit, I make coffee and get to the laundry I didn’t have time for during the morning hours.

Two batches to take down and two to hang, taking the usual amount of time, before the coffee is done and I pour myself a mug. I spend a little more time in the kitchen, cleaning and organizing the top shelves before I head for the table and set up my computer for some more writing.

Only one more page gets added to the two I did this morning before midnight has passed and I get ready to head up for the night.

Vet visits: They’re a necessary evil, which really break up what could very well have been a productive day.

Busy, busy.

Another quickie then. I wish it weren’t so, but sometimes one has to prioritize I guess.
The way I figure there’s no one who’s going to miss a page or two over here anyway. Hah.

So, it is another sunny day in southern Spain when I wake up this morning, blinking at the bright sunshine stabbing into my eyes the moment I toss the pack outside. There’s a rather chilly wind, but otherwise the temperature is wonderful and the sky clear as whistle.

I’m looking forward to today’s writing session, wanting to create the scene that precedes the one I wrote yesterday, and I am most eager to start. This fashion of writing certainly is productive. Without the hassle of going at it chronologically, I’ve gotten a vast amount pages done at a very even pace.

Only a few minutes late, I still don’t take the usual time for reading this morning, and within thirty minutes of rising I’m hiking down the mountain to let the dogs into the courtyard.

No new batch of laundry to hang today, much to my relief, just a batch or two to take down since it dried during the night, and fold it. Next, a handful of groceries need to be stored in the cabinets but that’s about all the chores that really need to be done this morning.
Soon I’ve got the coffee percolating and finish breakfast so I can move to the table and set up the computer.

I’ve got exactly two hours to get some work done before we need to depart for town. Middle sister has discovered a cavity in her tooth and has a dentist appointment, and since we need to go to town anyway, big brother and I decide to make use of the opportunity and slip in another hour at school.

Time ticks by rapidly, my fingers flying pleasantly fast over the keys as the scene forms on the monitor, creating a wonderfully descriptive imagery that’ll lead to yesterday’s work perfectly once I’m done, I’m sure.
Four and half pages are done when the hour of our departure arrives, and soon I’m hurrying up the mountain once more, to get changed.

Right on time big brother and I arrive at school digging into the lesson material with tenacity even though the questions and answers are boring. When we ask the teacher something about a particular question that makes no sense, she starts to scoff, taking the small book from my hand with disdain while she starts pointing out the ludicrousness of the entire section that we’re studying at this time.

The woman is actually outraged about the section that makes no sense whatsoever to us, or her, even after working in this particular field for almost twenty years.
“Insane and ridiculous!” is what she calls it, just pointing out what it is we need to know about the lesson before she leaves us in peace to finish up.

It goes really well today, seven 30 question lists, five without errors, two with just one, and one with two. Since big brother has a similar score we’re both pretty certain that we’re going to focus fully on doing the exams on the 25th… if no major disasters occur along the way, that is.

After an hour at the school, we get a list of the official paperwork we’ll need to register for the exams and then get into the car where middle sister and our driver of the night is waiting to take us home.

Sister’s dentist appointment went well. The cavity was dealt with rapidly, and she hadn’t even needed an anesthetic, which pleased her considerably.
At home little sister has dinner of spaghetti and fresh tomato/veggie sauce waiting. We’re all starving so the dish goes down rapidly as we wind down for the evening watching some TV shows.

There is an overall yearning for a sweet later in the evening, so what with the cookie jar empty, I get to work on sweet orange pancakes that deal with the particular yearning, and then settle back in my seat to enjoy this week’s “Burn Notice”.

Soon midnight arrives and it’s time for me to head on up for the night to go through the usual evening rituals and actually get some reading done.
I’m almost done with the review book about the knight. It is rather charming and I think I’m going to have to give the author a five for creating a beautifully simple story. It has been a pleasure to read, that’s a fact.