This blog is a bit of a catch-up. As I’ve whined before, October was a rough month personally. I was absent from work quite a bit and we got behind in some orders. I want to say thank-you to all of you who were patient, all the back orders have gone, and apologize again to those who couldn’t wait. Life sometimes gets in the way and being such a small company, I don’t have an army of employees to rush in and save the day.
November seems to be lining up as a better month. The pups are all over the coughing and Henri’s eye is almost back to normal after two weeks of draining like a culvert after a rain storm. Jake has gotten back pretty much all his strength and is now hopping up on the sofa in a single bound. Saturday was a bit of a setback when I came home from work to discover a pocket of fluid under his shin the size of a small egg. After a panicked call to the vet who didn’t seem to think it was serious, suggested icing it and said I would probably see an improvement in a few days as the body reabsorbs it. It wasn’t there before I left for work in the morning so it came on pretty quickly. I handle my pups a lot, massaging them and checking for ticks daily, I would have noticed this large bump that is big enough to show and causes a slight limp. I used a flashlight to cover the entire area looking for a bite mark or a sting. No bruising to speak off, so that rules out an injury, just a hard bump. After a bit of research on the internet I think maybe it was a hematoma because cyst or an abscess is usually softer and would take longer to form. I’m a bit disturbed as to why it happened, especially after he had a stroke like occurrence the other week. My pups are rarely sick so I guess we’d been coasting for a long time, to have so much happen in the span of a few weeks has been rough on them and me. The stress of October has caused my hair to start shedding all over again so I am working hard to reverse that before I go bald.
My back is almost 90% although my knee decided to protest this morning. An old injury flares up every now and then. Probably from favouring my back while moving like old fart for the past week or so. Shane’s pet name for me is “old gimpy,” and I would think it funny if not for the agony. The hardest thing to do was get in and out of the car. I think he took a picture of me in one of my fits of trying to get in with minimal spasming. If the neighbours were in ear shot they heard a blue streak as the pain cut through me like a hatchet blade.
It sure is easy to take for granted the simply things in life, like the act of hopping in and out of the car at the grocery store. I ate eggs for days as shopping wasn’t an option. I kept going to the cupboard, opening the door to find nothing to eat. Why I did that repeatedly I’m not sure, maybe the pain dulled my brain, only an idiot does the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome. Boiled eggs, fried eggs and more boiled, slathered in butter. Protein overload. Luckily I buy dozens at a time or I would have had to dine on popcorn, or worse, dog food. On the days I ventured out for an hour or two, I barely got in and out of the car at work let alone chance taking a spasm at the Save Easy parking lot. There wasn’t any hubby to take care of me and I always hate to ask for help, putting others out, but I would have killed for some meals on wheels. I might have complained to friends to take pity on me, but then I didn’t want anyone to see the state of my house, so pride just about starved me.
The house got messy pretty quickly. Dishes piled high along the counter, clutter everywhere. Henri likes to chew up egg cartons; a trick daddy thought cute and encouraged, and because eggs were the only staple there were extra thrown by the wood stove to be used as fire starter. Henri helped himself to the pile and ripped them to shreds leaving hundreds of bits covering the floor. I couldn't pick up the pieces, literally, so I just kicked them around as I shuffled about. Getting close to the floor to feed the pups was rough, so basically I just bent as much as I could and dropped their plates from about a half foot up, hoping they wouldn’t break. They dine off of Blue Willow china, plastic won’t do for these silver spooned babes, so it didn’t take long to run out of dishes as I couldn’t bend back down to scoop them up for a wash. I shoved them aside with my foot and the pile grew.
Putting on socks would have been a comedic video if not for the audio of my crying and screaming. The contortions were excruciating, trying to get each foot, one at a time up high enough so I could pull the sock over the toes. Hearing me suffer, the pups were concerned and would jump up on me and try to kiss my face, only adding to the pain as I tried to ward them off.
I won’t go into details of how rough it was going to the bathroom. Just trying to push my jeans down or pull them up was a tale for Ripley’s and as for the wiping part, well, all I can say is “where are your friends when you need them?” There truly is a need for a gadget, no not a bidet, an electronic wiper, a multi-billion dollar idea waiting to be invented! FYI - I looked this up on the interent and found an article about this very thing but unfortunately the prototype backfired and ripped the poor inventor's buttocks off. Phone a friend might still be the only option....
Out of every dark cloud emerges a silver lining and from this particular woe, I discovered the clog. If anyone had said, Christine, you should buy a pair of clogs, I would have immediately pictured a wooden pair of Dutch shoes with windmills painted all over them. Unlike my misconception, today’s clog is an engineered foot massage. The only pair of shoes in the house I could get on during my flare-up was a sloppy pair of sneakers. There were already loosely tied and with a bit of wiggling, I could slip my foot in but they offered no support so I was in agony wearing them. Last week after making it to work, I hobbled over to the Mahone Bay Trading Company to have a look around after seeing a show on the Shopping Channel for a clog called a Sanita. They promoted these shoes to be the best thing since the invention of the wheel, and I bought into it enough to be curious, but not enough to get out the credit card to buy a pair. I needed relief immediately; waiting for them to arrive in the mail wouldn’t cut it.
It hurt like hell to walk down the road but driving was too painful and had to be reserved for getting back home. So I cautiously made my way down the street like I had a load of poop in my pants, and after the failed attempts at wiping, might not have been far from the truth. I made it to the shoe store to inquire if they had this particular Shopping Channel brand so I could try one on to verify their truth in advertising. No such luck on that designer, but they did have a Joseph Seibel clog and I have to admit it was pretty darn comfortable slipping my foot into this pair of well-tailored shoes. I had to stand and hold on to the salesperson to get them on but my foot slid into the shoe as if it was a reunion. It was if they were made for me, my foot sole mate! I loved the ease of being able to slip it on and off with the open back so I whipped out the debit card and bought them on the spot and had them throw my shoddy sneakers into a bag. I hoofed it back to the shop with a bit more pep, but not before ordering a second pair in another colour to be brought in from their sister store. Apparently clogs are popular and being a size 8, there wasn’t much left to pick from. My back felt better so I guess I’m a clogger now... if the shoe fits......
Friday of last week was my first full day back to work and Shane and I tackled all the orders, wrapping all the parcels to take to the post office. We felt like the North Pole getting the parcels out and he looked like Santa heading for the post office, a big bag of goodies slung over his back.
So, barring a setback, funny how that word has ‘back’ in it, I’m again at the helm and things should run more smoothly. Poor Shane had to manage the shop pretty much on his own with Nancy only part time and Michelle not here at all, and because he was out front with the customers he got behind in his dyeing. I had to listen to a bit of moaning because he’s anal, I mean dedicated, and hates to get behind, but you step up and do what needs to be done. If not for him, the shop would have been closed so momma is pleased. His birthday fell on one the sciatica days and I offer this perk where I give employees their birthday off with pay, so he wasn’t able to cash that chip in but that means he has a day off whenever he wants. To have such problems.....
November seems to be lining up as a better month. The pups are all over the coughing and Henri’s eye is almost back to normal after two weeks of draining like a culvert after a rain storm. Jake has gotten back pretty much all his strength and is now hopping up on the sofa in a single bound. Saturday was a bit of a setback when I came home from work to discover a pocket of fluid under his shin the size of a small egg. After a panicked call to the vet who didn’t seem to think it was serious, suggested icing it and said I would probably see an improvement in a few days as the body reabsorbs it. It wasn’t there before I left for work in the morning so it came on pretty quickly. I handle my pups a lot, massaging them and checking for ticks daily, I would have noticed this large bump that is big enough to show and causes a slight limp. I used a flashlight to cover the entire area looking for a bite mark or a sting. No bruising to speak off, so that rules out an injury, just a hard bump. After a bit of research on the internet I think maybe it was a hematoma because cyst or an abscess is usually softer and would take longer to form. I’m a bit disturbed as to why it happened, especially after he had a stroke like occurrence the other week. My pups are rarely sick so I guess we’d been coasting for a long time, to have so much happen in the span of a few weeks has been rough on them and me. The stress of October has caused my hair to start shedding all over again so I am working hard to reverse that before I go bald.
My back is almost 90% although my knee decided to protest this morning. An old injury flares up every now and then. Probably from favouring my back while moving like old fart for the past week or so. Shane’s pet name for me is “old gimpy,” and I would think it funny if not for the agony. The hardest thing to do was get in and out of the car. I think he took a picture of me in one of my fits of trying to get in with minimal spasming. If the neighbours were in ear shot they heard a blue streak as the pain cut through me like a hatchet blade.
It sure is easy to take for granted the simply things in life, like the act of hopping in and out of the car at the grocery store. I ate eggs for days as shopping wasn’t an option. I kept going to the cupboard, opening the door to find nothing to eat. Why I did that repeatedly I’m not sure, maybe the pain dulled my brain, only an idiot does the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome. Boiled eggs, fried eggs and more boiled, slathered in butter. Protein overload. Luckily I buy dozens at a time or I would have had to dine on popcorn, or worse, dog food. On the days I ventured out for an hour or two, I barely got in and out of the car at work let alone chance taking a spasm at the Save Easy parking lot. There wasn’t any hubby to take care of me and I always hate to ask for help, putting others out, but I would have killed for some meals on wheels. I might have complained to friends to take pity on me, but then I didn’t want anyone to see the state of my house, so pride just about starved me.
The house got messy pretty quickly. Dishes piled high along the counter, clutter everywhere. Henri likes to chew up egg cartons; a trick daddy thought cute and encouraged, and because eggs were the only staple there were extra thrown by the wood stove to be used as fire starter. Henri helped himself to the pile and ripped them to shreds leaving hundreds of bits covering the floor. I couldn't pick up the pieces, literally, so I just kicked them around as I shuffled about. Getting close to the floor to feed the pups was rough, so basically I just bent as much as I could and dropped their plates from about a half foot up, hoping they wouldn’t break. They dine off of Blue Willow china, plastic won’t do for these silver spooned babes, so it didn’t take long to run out of dishes as I couldn’t bend back down to scoop them up for a wash. I shoved them aside with my foot and the pile grew.
Putting on socks would have been a comedic video if not for the audio of my crying and screaming. The contortions were excruciating, trying to get each foot, one at a time up high enough so I could pull the sock over the toes. Hearing me suffer, the pups were concerned and would jump up on me and try to kiss my face, only adding to the pain as I tried to ward them off.
I won’t go into details of how rough it was going to the bathroom. Just trying to push my jeans down or pull them up was a tale for Ripley’s and as for the wiping part, well, all I can say is “where are your friends when you need them?” There truly is a need for a gadget, no not a bidet, an electronic wiper, a multi-billion dollar idea waiting to be invented! FYI - I looked this up on the interent and found an article about this very thing but unfortunately the prototype backfired and ripped the poor inventor's buttocks off. Phone a friend might still be the only option....
Out of every dark cloud emerges a silver lining and from this particular woe, I discovered the clog. If anyone had said, Christine, you should buy a pair of clogs, I would have immediately pictured a wooden pair of Dutch shoes with windmills painted all over them. Unlike my misconception, today’s clog is an engineered foot massage. The only pair of shoes in the house I could get on during my flare-up was a sloppy pair of sneakers. There were already loosely tied and with a bit of wiggling, I could slip my foot in but they offered no support so I was in agony wearing them. Last week after making it to work, I hobbled over to the Mahone Bay Trading Company to have a look around after seeing a show on the Shopping Channel for a clog called a Sanita. They promoted these shoes to be the best thing since the invention of the wheel, and I bought into it enough to be curious, but not enough to get out the credit card to buy a pair. I needed relief immediately; waiting for them to arrive in the mail wouldn’t cut it.
It hurt like hell to walk down the road but driving was too painful and had to be reserved for getting back home. So I cautiously made my way down the street like I had a load of poop in my pants, and after the failed attempts at wiping, might not have been far from the truth. I made it to the shoe store to inquire if they had this particular Shopping Channel brand so I could try one on to verify their truth in advertising. No such luck on that designer, but they did have a Joseph Seibel clog and I have to admit it was pretty darn comfortable slipping my foot into this pair of well-tailored shoes. I had to stand and hold on to the salesperson to get them on but my foot slid into the shoe as if it was a reunion. It was if they were made for me, my foot sole mate! I loved the ease of being able to slip it on and off with the open back so I whipped out the debit card and bought them on the spot and had them throw my shoddy sneakers into a bag. I hoofed it back to the shop with a bit more pep, but not before ordering a second pair in another colour to be brought in from their sister store. Apparently clogs are popular and being a size 8, there wasn’t much left to pick from. My back felt better so I guess I’m a clogger now... if the shoe fits......
Friday of last week was my first full day back to work and Shane and I tackled all the orders, wrapping all the parcels to take to the post office. We felt like the North Pole getting the parcels out and he looked like Santa heading for the post office, a big bag of goodies slung over his back.
So, barring a setback, funny how that word has ‘back’ in it, I’m again at the helm and things should run more smoothly. Poor Shane had to manage the shop pretty much on his own with Nancy only part time and Michelle not here at all, and because he was out front with the customers he got behind in his dyeing. I had to listen to a bit of moaning because he’s anal, I mean dedicated, and hates to get behind, but you step up and do what needs to be done. If not for him, the shop would have been closed so momma is pleased. His birthday fell on one the sciatica days and I offer this perk where I give employees their birthday off with pay, so he wasn’t able to cash that chip in but that means he has a day off whenever he wants. To have such problems.....
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