30 June 2014


That didn't go so well...

Re-entry to Texas has been - ahem- a challenge.

Things went from bad to worse to beyond belief and back, all in one week..

On the last leg of the trip in from Colorado Bunny called me with one of those "My Air Conditioner in my car isn't working right" freak outs.  My windshield got a(nother) ding.

The house wasn't dirty, per se, but there were lots of piles of things just set down. And left.
Empty boxes stacked in corners, awaiting disposal.
Bank statements piled on the desk.
The hubs likes everything out on the counters in the kitchen so that cabinet doors do not have to be opened. I don't.
Stuff seems to have multiplied.
(Just try leaving two men alone in a house after years of having a mommy to take care of everything. They did a pretty good job on the basics, but no actual organizing or cleaning out was done in that time.)
And then, of course, we brought a bunch of stuff back with us.
So I have my work cut out for me.
This is my office. It's a bit overwhelming.


 The desk. Normally everything is in its place. 

The floor next to my computer. 
I step around this to write my blog. 
Soon it will be handled. 

Monday I was supposed to bring horses in at the barn. Just eight or nine of them. No big deal. Until it started storming. The rain poured in buckets. Lightning flashed.
I do. not. like. lightning.  Not one bit.
I had gotten three horses in, another horse owner showed up and got a couple in, then the sky opened up. We both got soaked. The remaining horses got soaked.   I know, I know, these are horses. They won't shrink. They can get wet. But if the fields get muddy, and the horses get frisky, then shoes can be lost and backs can be thrown out. So we waited in the barn for over an hour until the rain let up and we could get the stragglers in.  Oddly, I thought that was going to be the fiasco for the day.

Me and Jacinda. 
Soaking wet selfie.
But we got our job done!!

But no.

On the way home from the barn, the Big Guy calls me.  He had driven my parents (his grandparents) to the doctor and then was heading to the other grandma's house to feed her cat. (The other grandma, my mother-in-law, is in rehab after falling and breaking her shoulder and leg back in April.) It was pouring rain, remember? A flooded intersection and the grandparents' car did not mix. The car stalled.

Not too worried, I picked up the kid and later we went back for the car. Oops. Clouds of white smoke billowing out of the tailpipe. Shudders and groans from the car. None of this seemed right.

Tuesday the repair shop confirms that this isn't right. The engine is blown on the grandparents' car.

A family friend died. Fifty six years young. Cancer. So very very sad.

The hub's uncle died. He lived a long, full life, but again. Cancer.  So very very sad.

Since my parents are now without a car, some last minute driving errands have been thrown in.

Wednesday Carlos slashed his paw. Three places. Very deep. Lots and lots and lots of blood.
He had surgery on Thursday and came home on Friday. Not sure how many stitches $500 buys you, but apparently a lot.  He wore the embarrassing party hat for about thirty minutes before I took pity on him and  removed it.

So mortified.

He is such a smart dog. Not once has he even looked at that paw, much less tried to remove the bandage or tear out the stitches.

Part of the reason he is being so very good 
might be that he is also very sedated. 

Stitches come out (on purpose) next Monday. We may go in for a bandage change this Thursday.
He is pretty depressed. Poor puppy went from running 10+ acres with deer and bunnies to a backyard with at least a pool to play in ... to being confined to a small patch of yard and no walks at all.

Life pretty much sucks for Carlos.

O! And if we want him to do without his "cone of shame" then we have to be with him all the time. So Carlos has not been left alone since last Friday morning. Not one minute.

Saturday was the friend's funeral. People spoke eloquently, tears flowed freely. It was all just a bit too gut-wrenching.

And Sunday we went to an adorable little great niece's birthday party.

Sweet baby girl turned three.
And had a blast doing it.

Belle and I both noticed that relatives were asking "How long are you home for?" and "When do y'all go back to Colorado?".

Huh?  We weren't expected to come home? People expect us to go back??

WHY didn't someone tell me sooner???

This week has started off better.

The grandparent's car is not totaled. Just needs a new engine.

I'm hoping it's all good from here on out.


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