I have these ladies' link over in Fabulous Finds. I never have anything to contribute, since I have about a week's worth of knitting experience, but I get such a kick out of their posts that I keep tabs on them anyway. It really does inspire me to take up knitting--someday...

...I'm mildly saddened to report that I took the elevator both ways at PT today. The thing is, His Highness was with me, and strollers just don't mix with stairs. Ah well. I almost cried a little bit at the sheer joy of seeing my PT's again--they're that good. Their philosophies and approach are right in line with my previous 2 PT's, so it feels like I'm just building on the knowledge I have. They happen to have an EP, which I think stands for Exercise Physiologist, who is in charge of assigning people's exercises and cracking the whip in general. So we were talking about cores, and transversus abdominus, and all sorts of cool stuff. His Highness had a ball with...well, with the balls. He ran the fitness balls all over the room, and climbed on everything, and had a grand old time. I was very grateful that they don't mind crazy little boys running around.

Alignment-wise, I was in fact much better, but there were still a couple of hinky areas. The PT did some muscle energy stuff, which is a kinder, gentler way of moving things back into place, but finally she said "I've got to do this one manipulation because it just needs to be done." I like it that they prefer the gentler methods first...but I also like it that they're not afraid to get a little persuasive with the stubborn areas when needed. My favorite thing about them (and most PT's in general, I would guess--certainly all the ones I've seen) is that their goal is to not do manipulations at all, but to strengthen my body so they're not needed. Fantastic!

...A good friend of ours is coming to see us for a long weekend. I'm supposed to be making up the guest room at this very moment, in fact. I'm picking her up in a couple hours and she'll be here until Monday. After that, His Highness and I are headin' south for some rest & relaxation in lovely Phoenix. Truth be told, we're also trading in my CRV for an '06 Pilot...because I wasn't quite soccer-mom-ish enough. Or something. No, what really happened is that we'd been thinking about getting a Pilot for a variety of reasons, and came upon a fantastic deal, so we took advantage of it. Mom & Dad drove it for us and gave their thumbs-up, so there you have it...

...I've actually got some more serious thoughts on the back burner. As usual with a move, I've gone all introspective lately. Nothing dark & dreary or anything; just more serious than awesome campy knitting songs. If I can find a way to articulate them, you'll be the first to know...

Facebook Test...

I'm testing a feed I set up to my Facebook page. Facebook might be the anti-Christ.

UPDATE--OK maybe not the anti-Christ. I just meant that it's got that attractiveness to it, and seems to be sucking myself and those I love into its social networking vortex. I'm just saying...

Stairway to Where??

Walking into PT today, there were several signs posted: "Such & Such PT on lower level." Fair enough. I looked for some stairs but all the doors nearby said "Employees only," so I relented and took the elevator down. It was very slow.

PT was fabulous. I'm always nervous when I visit a physical therapist for the first time. Are they going to know what I'm talking about? Will they believe me? Will they fix my arse so the rest of me will stop hurting? I was quickly reassured as I began telling my saga, and the PT nodded as she took notes. When I told her the whole thing started in high school softball she asked me where I went to school, because they don't have high school softball around here. Before I could bite my tongue I said "What's wrong with them?!" She nodded knowingly, but I still apologized and explained that I've been here only a month and am still integrating into the culture.

So anyway, she let me ramble and ramble, and said things like "You're really in tune with your body's responses; this is helpful to us," and made me feel all comfortable & confident, instead of nervous and sweaty. I loved her nearly instantly. Then she checked out my alignments and such, and called over the other PT in the practice saying "You wanna see a really nice SI Joint?" Now she was being sarcastic, because my SI joint was still pretty well out of whack at that moment. So the other lady came over, and she was so impressed. In my own warped way I was a little proud of how wacky my SI joint gets when it's misbehaving. I would much rather have no issues at all, but if it's going to cause trouble, why not cause a whole lot and impress the medical community, right?? I said, "I'm tellin' ya, you could write a paper on me." They chuckled.

***The Fridge DJ just started singing on its own. Usually you have to hit a button to make it work. That is dang creepy.***

Then the first PT showed the second (more experienced) PT what she'd found thus far to get some input. So they were looking at my bones & muscles, having me lift this and flex that, saying things like "look, this [official muscle name] is firing more when she flexes that side," and "this glute has a lot more girth than that one," which I took as a compliment because there really was no other option. "Why thank you, I've never been complimented on my glutes' girth before." No, I didn't say it.

All that is to say these PTs are fantastic, and within an hour after my appointment I felt much better. Completely fixed? That remains to be seen. Probably not, but I'll take much better any day.

Leaving PT was where the real adventure began. I went out the door and back toward the elevator. Just down the hall a bit I saw an exit sign, so I thought "Hey, a stairwell." Stairs are good for you, but mostly I don't like waiting for elevators; especially slow moving ones. So I took the stairs back up to ground level, and emerged into a very busy hallway. I thought "Oh I'm in a different part of the building than where I came in," and just followed the exit signs. The farther I walked, however, it became apparent that I was walking around inside a doctor's office. Normally this is when I'd panic and start sweating profusely, but no one was paying any attention to me so I made sure I was standing up straight, and kept right on walking like I knew exactly where I was going. Down this hall, past those rooms. Then I passed two guys who I'm pretty sure were doctors making fun of their patients. They weren't being mean or anything, just telling stories with great gusto. Kind of funny, actually. They gave me a sideways glance as I tried to appear both confident and nonjudgemental. Certainly they know we know they tell stories about us when we're not there. It's nothing to freak out about...

Just as I was starting to get concerned that I would never find my way out of this maze, I breezed past the appointment desk, through the waiting room, and finally--finally--into the building lobby and the sunny outdoors. No one came running after me to ask what I had been doing meandering through the doctor's office, so I chalked up a successful exit.

And anyway, it's not my fault the stairwell exits smack into the middle of someone's office. "Take the stairs, eat 5 veggies per day, drink water..." What do they expect??

I might even take them again the next time, just to stick it to the man a little...

Where's the Dang Camera?!?

Our pack continues to grow here at Casa de Skerrib. Our newest member is a 12-lb poodle mix named Max, who joined us late on Saturday afternoon.

I'll elaborate later, but for now the nutshell: He's 6 years old, roughly the same coloring as Zoe, similar in temperament but a little more laid-back. He has jumped right in and fits well with our crazy brood. Zoe's a better walker, but Max is a better runner. We thought about changing his name, but Max really suits him, so Max it is. He's fairly well behaved in general and has already earned nighttime bed privileges.

Zoe was a little freaked out but is starting to calm down some. The two of them even played a little tonight, which I took as a very good sign that we're all getting acquainted and adjusted.

As near as we can tell, he's part poodle & part terrier, making him a Perrier. More specifically our best guess is Scottie (Scoodle) or Westie (Westie-Poo). They offered DNA testing at the Humane Society, but we decided not to pursue it further because we don't care that much.

The camera is here somewhere, I swear. Pics to come as soon as I find it.

There has been some question as to the Cat Daddy's pseudonym, especially in light of our canine acquisition. Just because Pim is no longer with us doesn't mean we don't consider ourselves his parents anymore. Plus, I can't think of anything else to call the Cat Daddy (anything that would appropriate on a family-friendly blog, that is), so until I do, the Cat Daddy will remain as such.

Back to PT tomorrow...not sure if it's the sacrum or something else outta whack. It feels different than my normal maladies, but I'm hesitant to make a diagnosis; mostly due to my lack of a PT or medical degree. Either way I'm grateful there are people who can give me relief. Back pain = no fun. At all. Ever.

And I made a spectacular pot roast tonight. Good Eats recipe--delicious. Or as the Cat Daddy called it, "deciduous." I replied "You're saying the pot roast loses its leaves every year?" and he said, "Yes."

Okay then...

REALLY Cool Toys...

My friend Joe is a woodworker. He was also a big corporate financial guy until he & Mrs. Joe decided that he would stay home with their boys so they could all be together as a family more. Fantastic idea, I say. I'm all for more family time.

He builds tons of stuff from cabinets, tables, and shelves, to wooden toys. His toys are so cool that people have been clamoring to buy them, so he has opened up his own shop called Market Street Co.

I'd gush about how talented and creative he is, but you'd be going, "Oh come on Skerrib, you're biased." And maybe I am. So go to his shop and see if you don't agree with me. And if you find something you like, why not help feed the children (of Mr. & Mrs. Joe).

There's a link to his site over there under "Fantastic Finds," or you can click here.

UPDATE: Site's up & running. Yay for Joe. Now go see his toys!

Kill! Kill!

We have flies. Not a plague or anything, but at any given moment we probably have 3 or so flies circling over our heads, divebombing any food we bring out. There are several factors contributing to this. What it boils down to is that the weather hasn't cooled off quite yet, so on warm days we open windows and doors to let the air circulate. We have AC, but we also have differing philosophies on when to actually use the AC, and in this situation I am not willing to go to battle. The Cat Daddy thinks we should take out the trash more often. I think we should stop leaving the back door wide open, or at least remember to close the screendoor. Installing a dog door wouldn't hurt either, but that's neither here nor there.

In the meantime we have differing philosophies on how to rid ourselves of annoying little creatures. We have differing philosophies on a lot of things.

Under most circumstances, I prefer to live & let live. The two main exceptions to this are things that find their way into the bathroom and mosquitoes. I hate mosquitoes. They'll pick me out of a crowd and I just can't abide that. They all need to die NOW. The Cat Daddy's approach is more of an ignore-them-until-you-explode type of deal. A couple years ago we had a gross-but-harmless infestation of teeny tiny moths emanating from the closet where we kept the dog food. I would smush-&-grab them with a paper towel as I could. The Cat Daddy, suddenly alarmed by their presence one evening, vaccuumed them out of the air for approximately 20 minutes straight.

Similarly with the flies. Knowing that their lifespan is something like a couple weeks, I'll swat at them when they're nearby, but otherwise let them be. No biggie--sooner or later they'll die of old age, and before too terribly long it will be so cold that no insect life will thrive long enough to make it into the house. Plus they're not trying to drink my blood.

Zoe will pass the time trying to catch them in mid-air (and eat them). I'm not sure that she's actually gotten one yet, but it provides an endless source of amusement for those watching her efforts.

As for the Cat Daddy, just like with the teeny moths he reached a breaking point and took matters into his own hands. He grabbed a dish towel and began swatting, murmuring "Kill...Kill..." Then, noticing His Highness toddling around after him, he said "Say it with me, Your Highness--Kill! Kill!"

To which His increasingly verbal Highness replied "Ki! Ki!" Nice. So the two of them enjoyed snapping the towel at flies until they killed them all, and then they enjoyed the Cat Daddy snapping the towel at His Highness, until one of them started to whine and that was that.

All was quiet-ish again for about 10 minutes, when His Highness again went up to the Cat Daddy saying "Ki! Ki! Ki! Ki!" This was funny for about 2 minutes, until it became ever-so-slightly-disturbing. Thankfully in this case, ignoring it (along with giving His Highness a little something for the road) made it go away...

Turn Around, Bright Eyes...

Things might be starting to turn around.

I'm not saying I like Cheyenne yet. But I don't think I hate it. Eh--"hate" is such a strong word. Poor Cheyenne never did anything to me. It's not Cheyenne's fault this is where the AF decided to send the Cat Daddy (BTW I'm fully aware that God is fully aware of where the AF sends the Cat Daddy, and don't think that I haven't talked to Him about it).

Anyway, a list of good things about Cheyenne (however short)--

--The Cheyenne Greenway--a network of parks, walking paths, and the like throughout the city. Some are connected and some aren't, but all provide a nice path for walking, biking, etc., and plenty of grass & greenery to admire. There's a sizeable chunk of greenway within jogging distance of the house, and His Highness and I have already been up several times. They have a frisbee-golf course and a rolling creek, stream-like thing throughout, which has cool little footbridges should one wish to cross. The best thing about the greenway, in my opinion, is the multitude of places to seek a geocache. Just remember the bug repellant. The best thing about the jog TO the greenway--the goat farm off the dirt road. Baaaaaaa!

--The medical clinic on base might be starting to redeem itself. Due to insurance and other issues, I got a really bad first impression of the clinic. In my harsher moments I figured the place was being run by untrained monkeys who had not read the benefits manual. After much searching and a little bashing my head against the wall I managed to find some very kind and competent people to help me out. Then I actually met with a doctor in person, and found that he was very competent, and he listened to me, and took my philosophies seriously, even though they didn't quite align with his.

One fantastic side effect of all the frustration here was that I didn't care anymore about carefully framing my views or trying to be agreeable. Suddenly I was saying what I thought, simply and concisely. Even with the doc I ended up going "look, I'm a nervous-type, and here's my health in a nutshell," intermingled with my residual surfer-vibe and growing cowboy twang. I really should do that more often. It's much easier to just say what I want.

I didn't really care about being polite either, but on that one I talked it over with myself and decided that common courtesy and respect were still in order. I'm glad I did.

--Sonic, Barnes & Noble, Safeway, and King Soopers (aka Kroger, aka Fry's)

--Sunshine--they've got a lotta wind here. A lotta wind. But they also have a lotta sun. Beautiful, bright, sunny sun. Good for the disposition, I always say.

Yee-haw...

The Newest Ice Cream Flavor Craze...

The Cat Daddy always has the best ideas. He just peeked out from the basement:

CD: "Hey Skerrib, are your b00bies still making milk?" [we only use correct anatomical terminology in our house, thank you]

Me: "Umm, why?"

CD: "Start pumping now!"

Me: "Now?"

CD: "PETA wants Ben & Jerry to start using breastmilk in their ice cream, instead of cows' milk, and you could make some serious money!"

Me: "No way! I could make way more selling breastmilk on the black market than giving it to an ice cream company."

Let me throw in some qualifiers and say that I'm not certain exactly what the black market is, or even that it actually exists. I've just heard rumors that if it did exist, breastmilk would go for a pretty penny.

Apparently some place in Switzerland is going to field test the human milk approach by substituting 75% human milk in its ice cream and other items. The reasoning is along the lines of significantly reducing the mistreatment of dairy cows and their young, as well as sparing people from the dangers of dairy products. Because Dr. Spock said so.

My favorite, though, was Ben & Jerry's response:

"We applaud PETA's novel approach to bringing attention to an issue, but we believe a mother's milk is best used for her child."

They Say It's My Birthday...

...and it's true. I turned 31 today. Yee-haw.

Let me recommend to all you ladies who will have the opportunity, to time your pregnancies so that you are not going thru first-trimester queasies on your birthday. Totally gets in the way of choosing a fantastic dinner, and can make cake outright impossible.

Sonic wasn't my original choice, but due to some extenuating toddler circumstances, that's where we ended up. Which is fine; just not as good as Applebees would have been if an Oriental Chicken Salad didn't sound completely repulsive to me at this moment. I knew that I would probably regret having dessert, but come on, I had to have something. So I ordered the Junior Banana Split. Awesome. It was so good that I plan to go back in a couple months and have a full sized one. We lamented the fact that Mrs. Bee wasn't with us to enjoy the goods--she'd have been pleased.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Got to talk to several family members and feel all special and stuff. Went shopping with the Cat Daddy in the afternoon. Blah blah blah. All around, a nice day. Other than the queasy parts...

Christian Ska. Or Something...

Camille has a knack for finding the best inspirational videos out there--



I think "zap" is the sound of my being struck by lightning for laughing so hard. Is that Carmine back there on the drums??

Rock on, Sal. Rock on...