What my brain spewed out...

...when I realized how long it had been since I last blogged and knew I only had tonight to do it. 



First, Marianne is back to her good, old self. The swelling went away the fourth day. She had her last pills today, thankfully. Dogs get as low-energy as humans when on antibiotics. Poor baby. She hasn't wanted to go near that field where she got bit, afterwards. Lets all cross fingers she's learnt.


This is when we got back from the vet and the morphine kicked in. She was afraid to lay down, since the mouth hurt so bad. I had to help her, in the end. She was out for several hours and when she woke, she felt a lot better and her appetite was back....or perhaps it was the drug-munchies?







We missed Simen

Tuesday we're off to her 1 year old check up at the vet. Should be fun. She really impressed me at the emergency Vet. She hadn't been to a vet before, but took to all the instruments, benches, noisy machines and other sick animals, like a pro. The Vet could do whatever she wanted to, but when she touched the lips(?) she cried out miserably.





The shark slippers are finished.













I had to turn down a visit from a friend. That really and truly sucked. With Runar having so much to do with his new business and his stress level being as it is, I just couldn't make it happen in a way that would be an enjoyable experience. He is a gracious and understanding friend, which makes it doubly bad. But, I have promised myself to get better at saying no, rather than forcing myself to manage more than I can handle. The visit will happen and when it does, I'll likely be happy it got postponed. I hope. Part of me fears there is a train that has left and will never return. I hate that little miserable voice in the back of my mind. Someone ought to find a way to permanently stomp that dude and tell the rest of us.


I got tax refund. I didn't think I would. Very pleasant surprise, that.

 Drought has stolen all the colours. This little fellow is usually pinkish purple



Tuesday we took the boat out and ate supper sammies on an island. The drought is making everything look rather sad, to be honest. It's crazy dry. My lawn is a yellowish-brown dried out joke. Simen, bless his soul, managed to keep my flowers alive. Mostly. I love that boy.

Tuesday night, I wanted to strangle him slowly to death a time, or ten.

He had forgotten a fish in a plastic bag on the floor inside the boat. You cannot imagine the stink. I had to remove the rotten mesh and dry it up. G.R.O.S.S. We had to leave the hatch open the entire trip and we left the boat open, making Simen go down to close up late at night before going to bed. He had to clean the boat a later day. Grrrowl!

This one hasn't sprung out and doesn't know about the colours having been stolen, yet. Crude awakenings to come. Å, Jah!









 Next week, Helene and her Runar is coming home. Juhuu!









I'm crocheting a new summer hat for myself. Like this, but white.












The big cousin get-together up at the farm, is happening August 1st. None of us sisters has had the guts to start any serious planning. Runar has already started dying. It can't be helped, he'll just have to die gracefully around me, or suffer the consequences. I'm working on my mean streak this summer.

I got my hair fixed, yesterday. And my brows. I thought they got too dark and tried scrubbing the colour off with eye makeup remover.

I now have very sore and very red eyebrows. They're still just as too dark. Nobody can see that they're coloured and that I regretted it, tried to fix it and failed. Miserably. Nobody.    
Snort!


My attempt at a selfie, showing off my new caps. My photographic skillz still suck balls.  

Ramble-ramble-ramble-nonsense-and-shit

Tick season has started over here. I need to get some anti-tick drops for Marianne (They don't make tick collars for St Bernards - at least my vet don't have any) I also need to get an appointment for X-rays and the 1-year-old check up for her. She'll be 1 year May 21st. w00t!





Marianne has been inventive() this week(read: Runar forgot to watch her) She managed to persuade Runar(read: she looked up at Runar and waggled her tail happily as normal dogs do) to take her to work with him. He had a meeting at his partners' shop and guess what she found? A whole mound of finely ground graphite - you know, the stuff pensils are made of  - and she gave herself a graphite bath.

Runar called home and warned me and told me to rig up the hose to give her a bath on the patio, because the black dust monster wasn't safe near anyone, or anything. Only thing is that the extra piece needed to hook the hose to our shower, had disappeared during winter(read: I'm afraid I threw it in the garbage during one of my frantic cleaning-out-the-damned-shed modes). It was either ice-cold water from the outdoor tap, or we'd have to get her into the shower. We chose the shower, because it's still cold enough that an outdoor shower in cold water would probably give her a serious cold. She's fine swimming in the lake, or sea, because her fur is such that it insulates from water getting all the way down to her skin, but as soon as you add soap/shampoo, that protection vanishes and they get wet and cold as us furless two-legged beings.

We barely got her into the shower. Runar pulled and I pushed and then forced the shower door closed. I had to hold the door closed during the entire shower ordeal, because Marianne tried to gnaw her way out.

I iz sowy










The shower got more than half of the graphite dust off her, but not all, so Runar volunteered(read: I was thiis |~| close to strangle the man to death) to take her down to the lake and get her to take a long swim. It didn't really help, but it gave me time enough to clean the dust off everything she touched on her way to the shower and to cool down a bit, so as not to stand ready with a cleaver when man got back. I don't think it did much good with the swim. She still has grey-ish spots here and there and it's been 2 days, 1 shower and 3 baths since she dove into the mound. At least it doesn't smear off onto everything else, anymore.

Helene ended up in the ER, yesterday. They suspected appendicitis and kept her over night, but her CRP levels was much better today and the pain was almost gone as well, so they let her home today. She got a note giving her immediate access to a hospital bed if she gets worse during the first 24 hours.

Runar has a minor repair job to do in Stavanger tomorrow, so I'm hitching a ride with him and will spend the day with her. I just have to see with my own eyes, that she looks okay.

 (yes, I admit I'm as hysterical as any other mom when it comes down to these things). I embarrassed the heck out of her. She gave me a text saying she was on her way to the hospital and that it was possible it was appendicitis, but that I couldn't call as she was out of power on her cell. Of course I called the hospital and got them to track her down and give her a hospital phone so I could talk to her. Duh! It's what moms do under such circumstances. Actually I was ready to steal a car and start driving, but Runar managed to persuade me otherwise.

It's funny, I've never viewed myself as a hysterical mom, but when things like this happens, the infamous mother-monster in me wakes up and roars. Loudly.




Messages like "I'm quite fine, you don't need to come". translates into "Oh, my god, I'm dying, you have to come. Right now!"  It's the same with messages like "I didn't do anything wrong, but..." They translates into "I've committed a terrible crime and will be locked up in prison for life" (When Simen calls and begins his sentences like this while out doing his russe shenanigans and has run out of money and needs help to get home.) I automatically interrupt him mid sentence and  half yell, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, NOW?!?"




Also, I have sadly reached the point where I have to start dieting. *pout* Damn 40+ Things really starts going downhill fast after 40. My mind tells me I'm still quick and flexible. My body shouts otherwise. And fuck! Kilos shows up in thin air and clings to my body for life. I expect to gain weight during the worst of the winter months, because I  take shorter and fewer walks and no hikes in the wood. I've done that every winter the last few years, but earlier, those extra kilos have vanished quickly enough when spring comes and I start hiking again. Not this year. *pout*

Okay, I still don't do dieting for realz, because my dieting consists of eating whole grain breads of various kinds and no chocolate or candy snacking. I still have a ton of butter on those whole grain thingies and I still eat normal dinners as always. Meh.

I have plans on starting doing yoga, but I still haven't found a youtube yoga session that I like. It's probably more a case of me  just not knowing what to look for. Halp, plz?


Oh, OOOOOHHHH! Guess what? Those pesky cottage neighbors actually PAID!!!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAH!

Uhm...it doesn't really give us any extra money to use on fun stuff, to be honest. We're in the minus after a winter of little, to no paycheck, so what it means is that we get to keep both our house and Vintland and escape bankruptcy. We are fit to keep on hanging in there.   HIPfuckingHURRAY!

I'm desperately trying to de-frost my freezer. I've got one of those combi fridge/freezer thingies. It is supposed to! be of the type that does these things automatically. After enough years and after enough incidents of forgetting to shut the door properly, the automatic-get-rid-of-excess-ice function, doesn't function. Ice was threatening to take over the whole thing.

I have a regular old fashion freezer too, so I moved all of the frozen wares into that and let the door open yesterday morning. The idiotic thing with these fancy automatic thawing wonder machines, is that when you actually have to do it manually, there is no way of turning off the power  for the freezer only. Options are spoiled food in the fridge, or thawing out the ice by leaving the freezer door open.

After 24 hours of open door thawing, the ice has been reduced by NOTHING!


Like this times 9.












Naturally, I've now done what is said you should not do. Ever. I've put a heating fan right outside the freezer door and it is working excellently. So there!
At least it hasn't started any fires...yet.  Patience issues much?!?

Since it's almost Friday I wish you a fantabulous weekend, guys!

Am I really that old?

I must be, because yesterday my youngest got his driver's license. He is 18 and now legally an adult. I think back at when I was that age and I remember thinking my parents were ancient and oh-so-OLD! Now I'm the ancient one. Yikes!

I'm still a baby!

Marianne is getting bigger. And bigger. She's also getting more cunning. She'll jump out of any fenced in areas. You won't believe how high she can jump. It is impressive. It also means we can no longer just let her out in the garden to play, when she's bored.

This week she harassed one of the neighbours again. That is, I'm not sure she harassed him, but when he brought her home, he told me she was "very playful". Yeah, translated into normal speek, that means she was jumping them and scaring the living daylight out of them. *groans* They were changing tires on the son's car. I bet she wanted to help. She is very! helpful. She'll happily hold all your tools. She's particularly helpful in grabbing and holding on to the things you have in your hands already...

She's not yet caught on to the trick of barking/whining when she needs to go pee while we sleep. Instead she'll stare at us and silently scream her head off. Does it wake us up? Not so much... I've washed the rug in the hallway so many times it will be worn out within a year if she doesn't stop, or if the boys don't learn to let her out before they go to bed. Apparently they think I can sense when they go to bed in my sleep and get up to let her out. Do I? Not so much...

She's very attentative when we're out on our walkies, though. It's usually a very relaxing and pleasant thing to do - walking her. I need to take her to town and walk her in places where there are a lot of people. I haven't done so that often and that needs to change, because I can't have a hyper 70 something kg dog wanting to say hello to everyone she meets. Just thinking about it gives me nightmares.

Taking the bus to my parents' today to part and prepare the moose meat today. We used to have two cars and two driv

ers, but somehow only one car in working order. Now we have two cars in working order and 3 drivers. Guess who's always without a car? Yeah...funny how those things work.

Runar shot a small cow last weekend and they are going out to hunt with a dog this weekend as well, so cross your fingers they'll be getting another one. This is their last chance to get any, as moose hunt season is ending 21st. Seems we'll be spending Christmas Eve at Runar's parents and this year we'll be many. As usual Runar and I will be the cooks and moose roast is on the menu.

My psoriasis is flaring up again. Not fun. My joints aren't too bad, yet, but my bad shoulder is getting worse rapidly. Not fun either.

Finished with the dresses, this is the biggest. 3-4 years old, the other one is for 3-6 months old.

Yeah...

I had planned to write an update, but there's been a time thief at large around here. I live, Marianne lives, the rest of the gang live. Oh, and it's Friday

HAVE A FANTABULOUS WEEKEND!

I have a dream.

I've been out with Marianne 4 times tonight. Then an extra time with Georg. We finished the paintjob on the patio(not sure what it is called, really, it's a wooden veranda at ground level with 7 ft windbreaks around 2 of the sides) and I had to keep Marianne upstairs. We keep her in our bedroom(on the floor only, yes I am a hard woman in these matters) with the garden door open. It works brilliantly and we have never experienced more than one accident, when she peed on Georg's blankie the first night). We are going to keep at it for as long as we can stand it – seeing that temps already drops to 10 C, that might get difficult in a month or two.

I'm too tired to write, really, but it is always then! I get creative and have fun writing.

I dream of a new sofa up at Vintland. The old one we have now, is a sofa that lived his late years down at my parents' old house. They got him from their elderly neighbours who were getting a new one. Let's call him Truls. Truls is living his AFTERLIFE with us up there. I swear you can feel the strain of every pair of bollocks that has put their imprint on this poor ugly thing. 

By now I bet half the stuffing left is doghairs. And he IS hideous. It is exactly the kind of sofa a dog would love. Georg loves it. I'm prepared to bring the ugly corpse home to Mandal and let my house be his mausuleum, as long as I get a new sofa in the cottage. It will mean no dining table, but faaak! 

I want one more like this

I want a soft sofa with high backing so bad. It's just that, even though I generally don't want the dogs in the furniture at home, Vintland isn't home. It's our haven. It's been Georg's haven. It was Marianne's first home and her haven. It should continue to be so. There is absolutely no way I could ever deny Georg climbing up on our lap on the three-seater. No. Fucking Way! I don't want to, either. I love having a monster of a laptog drooling all over me. I know it sounds insane and I know I am a walking contradiction of terms, but there you have it. It's just how I am knitted together. (I don't think we should try to understand me, it will give you headaches, believe me, I've tried for years. ...bad headaches)

I like a clean house, but I also like a house you would immediately feel comfty in. I think most people actually do. Visitors rarely sit in our sofas, they slouch in our sofas. I do have a very relaxed relationship with mess. I can let it flood my table and not care one bit. And then BAM! it's enough and I can't STAND IT ANYMORE! And I race around speed-cleaning like I'm the energizer bunny in those old commercials, before I collapse back like a sack of potatoes, again, taking part of the conversation, watch TV, whatever. 

Mental much?!? 

I've given up a bit on the floors. I vaccuum on average 3, or times a week. Depending on weather. I wash them once, or twice. I don't think I have had a house where doghairs aren't floating around in the air, behind and under furniture, in the corners, behind doors, you name it! since we got Doris 18 years ago. I don't allow babies on the floor unless I bring up a clean blanket for them to lie on. 

We kept Simen in a crib the first months of his life. They would have eaten each other up. Literally. Their language as babies was synonymous with mouth. It was disgusting. By the time he was 6 months, I was like; Meh! Eat each other and share food for all I care, we've all got the same shite anyhew! It may have had to do a little with Simen having had the whooping caugh and wasn't healed until then and I had suffered 6 months on very little sleep. 

My mother was ready to throw the child service peeps down my throat. “ELI!” That kid isn't going to talk when he turns 1, he'll bark! Are you aware of that?!?” 

He didn't. He did pant as one to get Doris' attention when she walked into the room. It was hilarious. And a little creepy. They were the best of friends who helped each other do mischief on a daily basis until they were 3 years old. 

When he started school and came home to an empty house, he had to open the door while hiding behind it. He said it was because Doris would be standing waiting and jumped out the door in such excited joy she ran down whomever(whoever? No, that doesn't sound right) was standing there. 

I think she made Helene feel safe too. She was very protective. In a happy whimsical way.

Simen has told me that he never felt like he was coming home to an empty house. “Because Doris is there, of course, mom.” He used to exclaim with a tired-of-life look that did so not fit his age, whenever I asked him if he ever felt alone as a kid. Hey, I'm a mom, all working moms will enter the pit of guilt a time or millions!

Oy, I'm rambling. Why didn't any of you stop me?

What I really meant to say is I need your help.

I need some advice. I want to make a sheet cover of sky leather, or something similar and just as easily cleaned, type of sheet cover. Problem is, I have no idea how to make one. Have any of you guys done this? Seen it done? Know a good site?

I can't afford it yet, but that doesn't mean I can't make plans. [satisfied evil low cackle] I am totally going to manipulate hubby into agreeing to this. 

Oh, yeees.




PS! Helene and her boyfriend came home for the weekend. It was also the weekend of the annual sea food festival. The 3 of us walked to town and ate lunch. I had the best sea food soup and fresh baked bread I have had in a year. It was heavenly, I tell yahs! Simen stayed home with Marianne, because he was going out with friends later and didn't mind staying behind. It was a nice weekend. I think the boyfriend at least didn't hate it, even though he suffered terribly from his allergies. Thankfully there has not been dogs in their bedroom and he was able to seek refuge there when it got bad.

PPS! Oh, and Marianne is well again. No more UTI.

Playtime

Apologies for the lousy quality. I suck at these things. The sudden interest in the grass is due to me getting a bug inside my T-Shirt and nearly panicking...

Did you know pups could get UTI? I didn't either...

Life with Marianne is busy. She's obviously the kind of pup that thrives on getting into trouble. She's managed to escape the fenced garden a few times, already. Thankfully we've been able to catch her before she harmed herself. She is fearless and brave and my kind of gal, but oh boy! she is a handful.

The other day the boys decided to take her with them to the boat. She had already had a first meeting with water when we took them to the lake to let Georg cool off with a bath. We watched her as she got that certain gleam in her eyes when Georg was sitting down in the water close to the shore. Obviously she planned on jumping him from behind in a surprise attack - her favorite thing to do - then got a huge surprise when she noticed that she was submerged in water up to her shoulders. She gave us that look that said: "I blame you for this you asshats!" while hurrying back to shore. We thought this would teach her a lesson about water. We were wrong.

She sat watching ducks from the pier, looking cute enough for Runar to take a picture of her. Then she suddenly jumped. She went under and both Runar and Simen were starting to throw off shoes and clothes to jump in and save her. She came up and started swimming towards the boat and the pier and Simen was able to reach down and grab her.











She looked wet and unhappy. For a minute and a half. And she was back in action. She tried to jump into the boat herself. She almost managed. She was left hanging from her front paws, while kicking wildly with her hind legs to avoid falling into the water again. The boys were able to save her in time. She fell half way off the pier once more, because she thought she could walk on air...




















She crawled up on a shelf and slept the entire boat ride and when they got home she sought comfort cuddling close to Georg.








 Yesterday we noticed that she was acting a bit odd. She kept acting like she wanted to do business, but nothing happened - or so we thought. I followed her around a bit and recognized the signs. The poor little baby had UTI. We called the vet's emergency number and talked to our vet. She informed us that we COULD bring her to the clinic, but that it would cost us 2 500 NOK (422 US Dollars!) just to show up and then the price for checking her would be 3 times the daytime price and then the meds, because she told us that she did have meds for UTI at the clinic - would also be 3 times the ordinary price. She then told us that even though it was uncomfortable for her it was in no way dangerous and that we could just as well wait until ordinary office hours the next day, bring a urine sample and the pup to the clinic then. Seriously, how on earth are these bloodsucking self-important peeps allowed to do this?!? I bet it is like this all over the world. Why do we put up with it?!?

 We called the kennel mom and checked with her and she said the same. To just wait and to use a ladle for the urine sample. That was very good advice, using the ladle. I just stalked her from before she woke up this morning, till she went outside to pee, snuck the ladle between her legs and voila!, Urine sample taken care of.

I woke up Simen to get him to help me hold Marianne in the car - I didn't want pee all over the place and she is still small enough to crawl out of the doggie-prison in the back. I gave the sample to the girl at the front desk and she just looked at me and asked:

"..and what do you expect me to do with that!?!" Pointing an offended well manicured index finger at the jar with the sample.

I was a bit taken aback, but swallowed and answered politely that we had talked with Aud(our vet) on the phone last night and we were told to bring the sample and the dog as soon as the clinic opened this morning as our young pup had UTI. The young bratty girl replied:

"Well, fine, but unless we get 350 NOK first, nothing will be done!"

 I told her that of course I was going to pay the fee and paid her, whereupon she replied:

 " Well, Aud will look at it when she gets here at 10, because she starts late today." 

I asked her why on earth we were told to be here at 8 and to bring the pup with us, if nothing was going to happen until 10, but she just shrugged and I had to leave before strangling her, because there is nothing that gets my temper up like a pouty teenage girl twirling her hair and looking at me like I was dirt under her manicured nails...

Aud just called me, 10:01. I'm off to get the meds. Then I hope to get a nap and cuddle the poor sad patient.

Marianne the pup - pictures

This is me; Marianne. I'm cute as can be and my teeth bug me. I just HAVE to chew. On anything and everything.

 Sometimes Mother-Eli gets mad. I just look at her all innocent and say "Who, me?!? I didn't chew nothing!"

They built this stuff so that I won't hurt myself jumping down the steps. I have no trouble with it, but Georg needed some time to figure it out. He's weird that way...

Georg is my bestest friend. He NEVER yells at me, even though I chew and bite nonstop. He loves me forever!















The first week I spent up at Vintland.  Yesterday we moved home to Mandal. Father-Runar and Brother-Simen put up a fence. Boring! Now, I can't get out at all. There is a lot I need to learn and just as much I have to discover.



Like ants! ANTS! Eeeww!











Waiting is difficult. I have to let Georg eat his food without disturbing him, Mother-Eli said so. Boooring!

Got to go, got much more stuff to learn and I need to find something new to chew on. Laterz