You've all seen them - the posts on Facebook that proclaim the right to say Merry Christmas. The same posts that say that we're not allowed to say Merry Christmas anymore, but have to instead say Happy Holidays. The outrage!
Oh please. There is no one stopping you from saying Merry Christmas if you want, and no one that will judge you for doing so. Get over yourself!
If you want to put Christ back in Christmas, great! Do it! Instead of celebrating what began as a pagan holiday anyway to celebrate the winter solstice, give to your church. Instead of spending thousands of dollars on gifts for your kids, buy blankets and coats and distribute them to the homeless living on the streets. Instead of spending hours in the kitchen cooking that turkey, spend the day volunteering at a woman's crisis shelter.
THAT's what Christ would do, not proclaim in angry memes that he's not allowed to say Merry Christmas in this politically correct world. And by the way, Christ was Jewish. So Happy Hannukah.
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Cats and Kids Don’t Always Mix
You see that cute little kitten at the shelter and can't resist. Visions of Kitty growing up with your kids dance in your head, and look forward to years and years of playtime and cuddles.
And then reality hits. Your two year old can't resist grabbing the kitten by the tail. Your four year old gets scratched or even bit because they just wanted to pet Kitty's tummy. Your ten year old that promised to take care of Kitty every day leaves the litterbox until it's overflowing, and you end up feeding the cat instead.
Kitty isn't so cute and playful anymore. Kitty has started destroying the furniture and peeing in the bed. So you return the cat to the shelter thinking that you got a bad deal.
That's the nightmare scenario, and unfortunately, it happens all too often at The Marshmallow Foundation. You can't say we didn't warn you, and try to teach you how to introduce Kitty to your kiddo and to the other pets successfully. We told you to put Kitty in a small room by herself for a few days to let her decompress, and to slowly introduce her to the family over a two week period. We told you how to work with your child to respect Kitty and how to recognize when she's had enough.
The problem isn't Kitty. It's you. Yes, look in the mirror and see who is responsible for this mess. Having a pet is a great teaching moment for your kids. You can teach them respect for all living creatures, and teach them responsibility. But it doesn't happen just by plopping Kitty in the living room and walking away. You need to invest some intense time with Kitty and your kiddo to be successful. You need to teach that two year old that pulling an animal's tail is not alright. If you do it right, you will achieve your vision of a lifetime of cuddles and unconditional love. If you do it wrong, we have to try once again to find a home for Kitty, and this time it's a lot harder because Kitty has "behavioral issues".
So please don't adopt an animal unless you're willing to be a parent first. Your kids learn the important stuff at home, like how to be kind. How to show compassion. Respect. Be the parent you're meant to be.
And then reality hits. Your two year old can't resist grabbing the kitten by the tail. Your four year old gets scratched or even bit because they just wanted to pet Kitty's tummy. Your ten year old that promised to take care of Kitty every day leaves the litterbox until it's overflowing, and you end up feeding the cat instead.
Kitty isn't so cute and playful anymore. Kitty has started destroying the furniture and peeing in the bed. So you return the cat to the shelter thinking that you got a bad deal.
That's the nightmare scenario, and unfortunately, it happens all too often at The Marshmallow Foundation. You can't say we didn't warn you, and try to teach you how to introduce Kitty to your kiddo and to the other pets successfully. We told you to put Kitty in a small room by herself for a few days to let her decompress, and to slowly introduce her to the family over a two week period. We told you how to work with your child to respect Kitty and how to recognize when she's had enough.
The problem isn't Kitty. It's you. Yes, look in the mirror and see who is responsible for this mess. Having a pet is a great teaching moment for your kids. You can teach them respect for all living creatures, and teach them responsibility. But it doesn't happen just by plopping Kitty in the living room and walking away. You need to invest some intense time with Kitty and your kiddo to be successful. You need to teach that two year old that pulling an animal's tail is not alright. If you do it right, you will achieve your vision of a lifetime of cuddles and unconditional love. If you do it wrong, we have to try once again to find a home for Kitty, and this time it's a lot harder because Kitty has "behavioral issues".
So please don't adopt an animal unless you're willing to be a parent first. Your kids learn the important stuff at home, like how to be kind. How to show compassion. Respect. Be the parent you're meant to be.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
A Day in the Life of a Pound Dog
The Marshmallow Foundation is, in addition to being an animal shelter, a city pound. What's the difference, you ask?
While both take in homeless dogs and cats, a pound is compelled to take those animals when brought in by city or county officials. They pay a small amount for the services we offer. Here's one example of a dog that was brought in this week.
6:30 pm - a dog is brought in as a stray. The dog is logged into the system and assigned a unique ID and a name.
6:35 pm - the dog is scanned for a microchip; a valuable tool in finding its owner, but only if it was registered. Most animals going through the pound/shelter system to be adopted out are microchipped, and the new owner is given the information on how to register. Sadly, most owners never get around to it. In this case, the dog has a microchip, and is registered to a shelter in Northwest Minnesota.
6:55 pm - the one and only employee working at night sends a Facebook group message to other kennel staff and volunteers, along with a picture of the dog and details about where the dog was found.
7:00 pm - the microchip info is sent to a volunteer who happens to live in the Northwest Minnesota area, and she immediately reaches out to the shelter where the chip is registered.
8:03 pm - the shelter in Northwest Minnesota confirms that this was their dog...adopted out in 2010. The immediately attempt to contact the owner.
8:13 pm - the owner is found! She had just moved to the Detroit Lakes area and didn't know that we were the city pound. She'd been posting lost dog notices on Facebook rummage sale sites to no avail. She tells us that she will be in first thing in the morning with proof of vaccination and license for the dog.
This story had a happy ending; I wish that they all did. Sadly, imagine if the dog had not been microchipped and sat in our pound in quarantine for a week or 10 days. The owner, who couldn't afford veterinary care for their animal, never got them spayed/neutered, nor did they think they needed rabies shots. So we, as a representative of the city we service, must take the dog to the Vet for its rabies shot before we can legally release the animal. Even if we can get an appointment with short notice, that's an extra day in the shelter. There's a $20 boarding charge per day, which barely covers the cost of keeping the dog. And depending on what city brought him in, there could be a fine assessed by the city that we must collect in addition to a license.
So now, with charges over $200, the owner says that they can't afford to get their dog. They go on Facebook, including public group sites and say that we are holding his dog hostage for the money. They claim that no effort was made to find them right away. Sometimes they even threaten legal action.
Being able to afford an animal doesn't just mean buying them dog food, just as owning a car doesn't just mean being able to afford the gas. The workers and volunteers at The Marshmallow Foundation really care about your animal, and really, really, want it to find a good home. That Facebook group message chat chimes all day, every day, sometimes until late into the night.
So please, spay or neuter your pets, microchip them even if you think they'll never run away, and register that microchip. We'd all cheer for just one day where Facebook remained silent.
While both take in homeless dogs and cats, a pound is compelled to take those animals when brought in by city or county officials. They pay a small amount for the services we offer. Here's one example of a dog that was brought in this week.
6:30 pm - a dog is brought in as a stray. The dog is logged into the system and assigned a unique ID and a name.
6:35 pm - the dog is scanned for a microchip; a valuable tool in finding its owner, but only if it was registered. Most animals going through the pound/shelter system to be adopted out are microchipped, and the new owner is given the information on how to register. Sadly, most owners never get around to it. In this case, the dog has a microchip, and is registered to a shelter in Northwest Minnesota.
6:55 pm - the one and only employee working at night sends a Facebook group message to other kennel staff and volunteers, along with a picture of the dog and details about where the dog was found.
7:00 pm - the microchip info is sent to a volunteer who happens to live in the Northwest Minnesota area, and she immediately reaches out to the shelter where the chip is registered.
8:03 pm - the shelter in Northwest Minnesota confirms that this was their dog...adopted out in 2010. The immediately attempt to contact the owner.
8:13 pm - the owner is found! She had just moved to the Detroit Lakes area and didn't know that we were the city pound. She'd been posting lost dog notices on Facebook rummage sale sites to no avail. She tells us that she will be in first thing in the morning with proof of vaccination and license for the dog.
This story had a happy ending; I wish that they all did. Sadly, imagine if the dog had not been microchipped and sat in our pound in quarantine for a week or 10 days. The owner, who couldn't afford veterinary care for their animal, never got them spayed/neutered, nor did they think they needed rabies shots. So we, as a representative of the city we service, must take the dog to the Vet for its rabies shot before we can legally release the animal. Even if we can get an appointment with short notice, that's an extra day in the shelter. There's a $20 boarding charge per day, which barely covers the cost of keeping the dog. And depending on what city brought him in, there could be a fine assessed by the city that we must collect in addition to a license.
So now, with charges over $200, the owner says that they can't afford to get their dog. They go on Facebook, including public group sites and say that we are holding his dog hostage for the money. They claim that no effort was made to find them right away. Sometimes they even threaten legal action.
Being able to afford an animal doesn't just mean buying them dog food, just as owning a car doesn't just mean being able to afford the gas. The workers and volunteers at The Marshmallow Foundation really care about your animal, and really, really, want it to find a good home. That Facebook group message chat chimes all day, every day, sometimes until late into the night.
So please, spay or neuter your pets, microchip them even if you think they'll never run away, and register that microchip. We'd all cheer for just one day where Facebook remained silent.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Pippi’s Miracle
Pippi is a cat that was brought to The Marshmallow Foundation in late August in really bad shape. She was painfully skinny, and the shelter suspected that she had been hit by a car. Knowing that the shelter doesn't have the funds for expensive emergency treatment, we reached out to Cat's Cradle, a rescue and shelter in Fargo. They immediately got her to the emergency vet, who confirmed that indeed, Pippi had likely been hit by a car. Her hip and leg was severely broken, and it was doubtful that the hip fracture could be fixed.
As with all street cats brought in, Pippi was checked to make sure she was pregnant. The Vet said that she wasn't, which was a good thing, since she'd never be able to deliver with her injuries.
So Pippi was brought in for surgery, and her leg was repaired. Her hip was already healing, so it was decided to leave it as it was. Pippi was sent to a foster home to recuperate, and passed her two week post-op check with flying colors.
And then, a month after her accident, she was brought back to the emergency Vet, who discovered a full term, live kitten inside her. How that kitten survived the trauma of the accident, surgery, and X-Rays is a wonder. An emergency C-section was done, after which the kitten had to be resuscitated. But the kitten made it!
That's a miracle in itself, but it doesn't end there. A few days after Pippi gave birth, two orphaned kittens the same age as Pippi's kitten were brought in. Pippi has now become the adopted mother of two more kittens, and the entire family is doing well.
Money was raised for the orthopedic surgery, but the emergency C-section cost Cat's Cradle another $2000. If you'd like to help with Pippi's care, donations can be made here.
As with all street cats brought in, Pippi was checked to make sure she was pregnant. The Vet said that she wasn't, which was a good thing, since she'd never be able to deliver with her injuries.
So Pippi was brought in for surgery, and her leg was repaired. Her hip was already healing, so it was decided to leave it as it was. Pippi was sent to a foster home to recuperate, and passed her two week post-op check with flying colors.
And then, a month after her accident, she was brought back to the emergency Vet, who discovered a full term, live kitten inside her. How that kitten survived the trauma of the accident, surgery, and X-Rays is a wonder. An emergency C-section was done, after which the kitten had to be resuscitated. But the kitten made it!
That's a miracle in itself, but it doesn't end there. A few days after Pippi gave birth, two orphaned kittens the same age as Pippi's kitten were brought in. Pippi has now become the adopted mother of two more kittens, and the entire family is doing well.
Money was raised for the orthopedic surgery, but the emergency C-section cost Cat's Cradle another $2000. If you'd like to help with Pippi's care, donations can be made here.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Trap Neuter Release (TNR)
If you watch My Cat From Hell, you've probably seen Jackson Galaxy rave about the local programs that will trap feral cats, neuter them, and then release them. It's a great idea, and more communities should participate to help control the feral cat population.
Because if a cat is truly feral, it has little chance of ever becoming someone's pet. Let me say that again - these cats cannot be socialized and adopted out to loving families. Instead, they end up in a shelter like The Marshmallow Foundation, and after giving it our best try, are euthanized. Before you express your shock and horror that we are not a "no-kill" shelter, but instead a "low-kill" shelter, let me give you some facts.
There is no sponsored TNR program in the Detroit Lakes area. There are no Veterinary practices willing to donate their time, and no organization that has set up the funds to make a TNR program viable. And yet, citizens, thinking that they are acting in the best interest of the cat, will trap them and bring them to us with a self-satisfied look on their face that says, "I did my part". Well sorry buddy, but all you did was make it our problem now.
So if you spot a feral cat in your neighborhood, what should you do? Well, that depends. Can you afford to have that animal neutered and brought up to date on their shots? Yes? Whoo hoo! Then do it - trap them, neuter them, and release them, and bang, you've got your own TNR program. If you can't afford to do it yourself, please don't think that your local shelter can either; we're busting at the seams already with cats we can't find homes for.
If you want middle ground, set up a recurring monthly donation to the shelter of your choice. It doesn't have to be much, but it sure will help.
Because if a cat is truly feral, it has little chance of ever becoming someone's pet. Let me say that again - these cats cannot be socialized and adopted out to loving families. Instead, they end up in a shelter like The Marshmallow Foundation, and after giving it our best try, are euthanized. Before you express your shock and horror that we are not a "no-kill" shelter, but instead a "low-kill" shelter, let me give you some facts.
There is no sponsored TNR program in the Detroit Lakes area. There are no Veterinary practices willing to donate their time, and no organization that has set up the funds to make a TNR program viable. And yet, citizens, thinking that they are acting in the best interest of the cat, will trap them and bring them to us with a self-satisfied look on their face that says, "I did my part". Well sorry buddy, but all you did was make it our problem now.
So if you spot a feral cat in your neighborhood, what should you do? Well, that depends. Can you afford to have that animal neutered and brought up to date on their shots? Yes? Whoo hoo! Then do it - trap them, neuter them, and release them, and bang, you've got your own TNR program. If you can't afford to do it yourself, please don't think that your local shelter can either; we're busting at the seams already with cats we can't find homes for.
If you want middle ground, set up a recurring monthly donation to the shelter of your choice. It doesn't have to be much, but it sure will help.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Lifetime Commitment
Before you adopt that adorable, fuzzy, little ball of energy from the shelter, you need to ask yourself one question first.
Are you willing to take care of this living creature for the rest of their life?
If not, please, please, don't adopt. Get a fish. Or better yet, buy a plant. Preferable an artificial one.
Volunteering at The Marshmallow Foundation, I get to witness first hand so many wonderful success stories of our animals going to loving homes. And I also experience the heartbreak of an owner surrender.
Yes, there are those elderly folks that get moved into nursing homes and their family is unwilling to take care of Fido or Fluffy. I'm not talking about those; I'm talking about the ones that bring an animal back they adopted 24, 48, or 72 hours before from us. In the last couple of months, here's what I've experienced:
A kitten can live more than 20 years. And a dog more than 15. Are you prepared to spend thousands of dollars for an unexpected injury or illness? Can you afford the healthy food that will extend the animal's life? Are you ready for old age, when incontinence can become an issue? And finally, will you be prepared to hold that animal in your arms as they take their last breath on this earth? If you answer no to any of these questions, please don't adopt. My fellow volunteers and shelter workers thank you.
Are you willing to take care of this living creature for the rest of their life?
If not, please, please, don't adopt. Get a fish. Or better yet, buy a plant. Preferable an artificial one.
Volunteering at The Marshmallow Foundation, I get to witness first hand so many wonderful success stories of our animals going to loving homes. And I also experience the heartbreak of an owner surrender.
Yes, there are those elderly folks that get moved into nursing homes and their family is unwilling to take care of Fido or Fluffy. I'm not talking about those; I'm talking about the ones that bring an animal back they adopted 24, 48, or 72 hours before from us. In the last couple of months, here's what I've experienced:
- I'm bringing this cat back after having her less than 24 hours because she wanted to sleep with me and I couldn't sleep all night. She was too affectionate. And I want my money back.
- This cat fights with my other cat too much. Did I separate them for up to two weeks to ensure a successful acclimation? No, why would I? Yes, I know you told me to. Come get her. I live two hours away and I'm too lazy to bring her back myself.
- This dog that you just spayed that I adopted yesterday has a break in her stitches. You didn't tell me that I'd have to pay for medical care. You can have her back, but when you fix her all up and can guarantee that she's healthy and won't ever have an issue again, I'd like to re-adopt her. Oh, and I want my money back.
- I found this dog, and really like her and want to keep her, but she has some sort of skin issue, so you can have her. (It was mange, and very cheap to treat).
A kitten can live more than 20 years. And a dog more than 15. Are you prepared to spend thousands of dollars for an unexpected injury or illness? Can you afford the healthy food that will extend the animal's life? Are you ready for old age, when incontinence can become an issue? And finally, will you be prepared to hold that animal in your arms as they take their last breath on this earth? If you answer no to any of these questions, please don't adopt. My fellow volunteers and shelter workers thank you.
Friday, September 16, 2016
Getting Your Facts From Facebook Memes
I think I finally get it. The otherwise lovely, sane, reasonable people who rabidly follow Trump get their facts straight from Facebook. It's really the only explanation. I see the memes - the ones that claim that President Obama is a Muslim, was born in Kenya, compared to a monkey. Or the "news" stories on sites that claim to be reporting real news, but instead are slanted one way or the other.
When I posted something from FactCheck.org once (a legimate, non-biased site), my FB friend sent me an article claiming something different. Rather than just accepting it, I checked it out. Turns out the site was a DATING SITE!
So this is where you're getting your news from? I get it; if you have certain beliefs, you're not going to alter those beliefs. I'm not going to try and change your mind, even when I disagree with you. But for Pete's sake, do some research on the candidates, one of which will be the leader of the free world.
Trump finally admitted today that Obama was born in the USA. No apology for dragging the entire nation through the mud with him for the last 5 years; instead he tried to take credit for finishing what Hillary Clinton started. If he says that often enough, people believe it. The fact is that Clinton never said such a thing. Ever.
So go ahead and believe in conservative principles. But don't try and explain away the fact that you support this clown.
When I posted something from FactCheck.org once (a legimate, non-biased site), my FB friend sent me an article claiming something different. Rather than just accepting it, I checked it out. Turns out the site was a DATING SITE!
So this is where you're getting your news from? I get it; if you have certain beliefs, you're not going to alter those beliefs. I'm not going to try and change your mind, even when I disagree with you. But for Pete's sake, do some research on the candidates, one of which will be the leader of the free world.
Trump finally admitted today that Obama was born in the USA. No apology for dragging the entire nation through the mud with him for the last 5 years; instead he tried to take credit for finishing what Hillary Clinton started. If he says that often enough, people believe it. The fact is that Clinton never said such a thing. Ever.
So go ahead and believe in conservative principles. But don't try and explain away the fact that you support this clown.
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Religion in a Job Interview
I'm a bit of a political junkie these days, watching both the Republican and Democratic races intently. My own values, which center around treating all humans well and preserving the earth for future generations, make me a liberal in most circles. But I want to understand both sides of the issues, and here's something I just don't get.
What does religion have to do with running the country? Why are most of the speeches laced with "In Jesus' name", or "God Bless"? The Republican VP nominee starts every speech by saying that he's a Christian, a conservative, and a Republican, in that order. How exactly does that qualify you for the job, and don't the Republicans (and some Democrats) realize that this language alienates half of their constituency?
Imagine if the presidential race was instead an interview for an IT company and the applicant stated on his resume that he's a Christian, conservative, and Republican, in that order. That's nice to know, but what exactly are your qualifications for the job?
And now imagine if the interview panel (the American people) was composed of Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Christians, and Wiccans? What's your guess on whether the applicant lands the job?
What does religion have to do with running the country? Why are most of the speeches laced with "In Jesus' name", or "God Bless"? The Republican VP nominee starts every speech by saying that he's a Christian, a conservative, and a Republican, in that order. How exactly does that qualify you for the job, and don't the Republicans (and some Democrats) realize that this language alienates half of their constituency?
Imagine if the presidential race was instead an interview for an IT company and the applicant stated on his resume that he's a Christian, conservative, and Republican, in that order. That's nice to know, but what exactly are your qualifications for the job?
And now imagine if the interview panel (the American people) was composed of Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Christians, and Wiccans? What's your guess on whether the applicant lands the job?
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Then They Came for Me
Today I went to the German labor camp Sachsenhausen, less than an hour outside of Berlin. Many times moved, at times disgusted, always sad, there were a couple of things today that struck a nerve.
Before entering the gates, our guide talked about the liberation, when the Red Army rolled in. Countries hurried to come collect their countrymen; sending buses and trains to bring their people home. After all, this camp was full of everyone from Norwegians, to French resistance fighters, to Dutch POWs. Probably the biggest population at the time were Soviet prisoners of war. Stalin didn't rush to get his men; he considered them cowardly allowing themselves to be taken prisoner instead of dying bravely for the cause. Does that remind of you of anyone? Trump has said almost the same thing about John McCain, who was captured during the Vietnam war and held prisoner.
When we reached the "special prisoners" prison, we learned that some famous men had been housed there, including Georg Elser, the man who tried in vain to assassinate Hitler with a bomb. People leave gifts and flowers in the outline of his barack to this day. Another famous prisoner there is someone you've probably never heard of, but is remembered for something he once said.
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
Martin Niemoller was a prominent Protestant pastor who was jailed the last 7 years of WWII because he spoke out against Hitler and the Nazi rule. Again, his saying reminded me of the dangerous situation in our country today, where some people are okay with what Donald Trump says because they're not Mexican, Muslim, or a woman. He's not targeting them. Yet.
Before entering the gates, our guide talked about the liberation, when the Red Army rolled in. Countries hurried to come collect their countrymen; sending buses and trains to bring their people home. After all, this camp was full of everyone from Norwegians, to French resistance fighters, to Dutch POWs. Probably the biggest population at the time were Soviet prisoners of war. Stalin didn't rush to get his men; he considered them cowardly allowing themselves to be taken prisoner instead of dying bravely for the cause. Does that remind of you of anyone? Trump has said almost the same thing about John McCain, who was captured during the Vietnam war and held prisoner.
When we reached the "special prisoners" prison, we learned that some famous men had been housed there, including Georg Elser, the man who tried in vain to assassinate Hitler with a bomb. People leave gifts and flowers in the outline of his barack to this day. Another famous prisoner there is someone you've probably never heard of, but is remembered for something he once said.
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
Martin Niemoller was a prominent Protestant pastor who was jailed the last 7 years of WWII because he spoke out against Hitler and the Nazi rule. Again, his saying reminded me of the dangerous situation in our country today, where some people are okay with what Donald Trump says because they're not Mexican, Muslim, or a woman. He's not targeting them. Yet.
Friday, June 17, 2016
Things My Mother Taught Me (Or I Wish She Did)
- A little cream cheese makes mashed potatoes creamy and even more delicious
- If your sunny side up eggs are burning around the edges but slimy around the yolk, add a few drops of water to the pan and stick a cover on it to steam.
- There's an easier way to put on a duvet cover.
- The best scrambled eggs don't start in a hot fry pan. Start in a cold sauce pan with a good dash of pepper. Put on medium heat whisking constantly until the curds start to form. Take it off the heat for a few seconds, still stirring. Put it back on the heat, take it off, and repeat until you start to hear a sizzle. Immediately remove from heat, add salt and crumbled goat cheese (optional). Garnish with fresh chives. The sizzle part is important; eggs continue to cook after they're removed from the heat, and overcooked eggs are awful. I give Gordon Ramsay credit for this one!
- Unless you have very thin fine hair, there is no reason to wash your hair every day. It strips the natural oil from your scalp. My hair always looks better the day after I washed it. I aim for twice a week max unless I'm desperate to wash the campfire smoke out of my hair.
- Stay interested in everything! When I see people my age that refuse to text, Facebook, or do anything remotely technology related, they appear old before their time.
- You're never too old to learn something new. I recently taught myself to sew, and have completed a quilted table runner and a baby quilt.
- Try it even if you think you don't like it. Tastes change. What you hated as a child/teenager/20 year old might be your favorite now. I thought I hated blue cheese as a kid (never actually tried it; the thought of moldy cheese was just too much). As a 50 something, I was served a salad in a dark room and exclaimed with delight to my neighbor, "what is this?" You guessed it - blue cheese dressing.
- Instead of wasting time whining about something being broken, learn to fix it yourself. YouTube is great for quick fixes for everything from a broken coffee machine to rusty door hinges. I get tired of being on hold for help with computer issues, so I've gotten pretty good at troubleshooting myself.
- The past isn't real, and neither is the future. So live in the present moment, be grateful for what you have, and love without expectations.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Gratitude Isn't Always Easy
I'm big on gratitude; I think that taking a little time every day or several times a day to be thankful does a lot of things, including relaxing your body, making you more present, and keeping you in a more positive state of mind.
Some days it's hard to feel grateful; yesterday was one of those days. Delilah, my one year old cat, had to be put to sleep. Her kidneys failed her, and although we spent a week on intensive treatment, we couldn't help her.
Delilah spent almost a year at the animal shelter in a cage, let out only once a day for a few minutes. I had adopted her sister Maggie, and her other siblings had been adopted many months before. When I volunteered there and let her out, she would cling to me with all her might and rub her face frantically on my cheek. I coined the term "aggressively affectionate" for her, since I'd walk out with marks on my shoulders from her claws digging in to me. But I couldn't adopt her because I had a terminally ill kitten (Meep) at home.
When Meep died in March, I brought Delilah home. She fit right in with the rest of the kittens, and after a couple of weeks didn't cling to desperately to me. Last week her health declined rapidly, and after 2 days hospitalized, a week of me giving her subcutaneous fluids and meds, and praying, she didn't get any better, but instead got worse. So I had to make the decision to end her suffering.
I had also injured my back Saturday, so I was in physical pain as well as emotional pain. So I had to think hard about what to grateful for. Saturday I received a card at the shelter that had sat on someone's desk since March. A lady in Minneapolis had read this blog about Meep's death and wanted to express her sadness. I was grateful. Last week a friend in Minneapolis read my frantic Facebook posts about Delilah and sent me a check for $100 (which will be donated to The Marshmallow Foundation. Their antique washing machine has finally quit working, and there's a used washing machine on Craigslist that we're trying to buy, for, you guessed it - $100.
Maggie, Leo, and Fancy are all healthy and happy. I am grateful. And I am grateful for Delilah, who taught me that loves sometimes means saying goodbye.
Some days it's hard to feel grateful; yesterday was one of those days. Delilah, my one year old cat, had to be put to sleep. Her kidneys failed her, and although we spent a week on intensive treatment, we couldn't help her.
Delilah spent almost a year at the animal shelter in a cage, let out only once a day for a few minutes. I had adopted her sister Maggie, and her other siblings had been adopted many months before. When I volunteered there and let her out, she would cling to me with all her might and rub her face frantically on my cheek. I coined the term "aggressively affectionate" for her, since I'd walk out with marks on my shoulders from her claws digging in to me. But I couldn't adopt her because I had a terminally ill kitten (Meep) at home.
When Meep died in March, I brought Delilah home. She fit right in with the rest of the kittens, and after a couple of weeks didn't cling to desperately to me. Last week her health declined rapidly, and after 2 days hospitalized, a week of me giving her subcutaneous fluids and meds, and praying, she didn't get any better, but instead got worse. So I had to make the decision to end her suffering.
I had also injured my back Saturday, so I was in physical pain as well as emotional pain. So I had to think hard about what to grateful for. Saturday I received a card at the shelter that had sat on someone's desk since March. A lady in Minneapolis had read this blog about Meep's death and wanted to express her sadness. I was grateful. Last week a friend in Minneapolis read my frantic Facebook posts about Delilah and sent me a check for $100 (which will be donated to The Marshmallow Foundation. Their antique washing machine has finally quit working, and there's a used washing machine on Craigslist that we're trying to buy, for, you guessed it - $100.
Maggie, Leo, and Fancy are all healthy and happy. I am grateful. And I am grateful for Delilah, who taught me that loves sometimes means saying goodbye.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
The Case for "Paw-ternity" Leave
It's no secret that mandatory maternity and paternity leave is a big deal in the US, at least if you listen to the political debates. I believe that Moms and Dads should be able to not only bond with their child at birth, but should be able to take them to dentist appointments and the doctor without having to sacrifice pay.
As a lifelong unmarried, childless woman, I've often been the one that worked the holidays so that others could spend time with their family. I can work after hours and on weekends when others need to take care of their kiddos. And that's okay with me - I don't begrudge folks with families; I'm happier without.
But when I have to take my cherished cat to the Vet, or need to bond with my new adopted kitten, or am grieving the loss of my pet, I want the same consideration as the Mom of a human. "It's not like it's a human being" is not a welcome phrase. My cats are more important to me than most humans; just like you, I celebrate their achievements, smile with delight over the cute things they do, and sigh with frustration when they break stuff (and they break a lot of stuff).
The United Kingdom has mandatory paid maternity and paternity leave. And almost 1 in 20 pet owners also get a benefit known as Paw-ternity leave. It ranges from a few hours to three weeks paid leave. New Zealand is also offering this benefit in many companies.
What do you think? Are we the new minority? Let's march on Washington and demand our crazy cat lady rights!
As a lifelong unmarried, childless woman, I've often been the one that worked the holidays so that others could spend time with their family. I can work after hours and on weekends when others need to take care of their kiddos. And that's okay with me - I don't begrudge folks with families; I'm happier without.
But when I have to take my cherished cat to the Vet, or need to bond with my new adopted kitten, or am grieving the loss of my pet, I want the same consideration as the Mom of a human. "It's not like it's a human being" is not a welcome phrase. My cats are more important to me than most humans; just like you, I celebrate their achievements, smile with delight over the cute things they do, and sigh with frustration when they break stuff (and they break a lot of stuff).
The United Kingdom has mandatory paid maternity and paternity leave. And almost 1 in 20 pet owners also get a benefit known as Paw-ternity leave. It ranges from a few hours to three weeks paid leave. New Zealand is also offering this benefit in many companies.
What do you think? Are we the new minority? Let's march on Washington and demand our crazy cat lady rights!
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Cat People Are Smarter Than Dog People, New Study Shows
SAN FRANCISCO — "Dog people" and "cat people" really do have different personalities, according to a new study.
Source: Cat People Are Smarter Than Dog People, New Study Shows
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Working as Designed
The term Working as Designed, or WAD for short, is a much-hated term in the software business. When a customer finds a feature missing and they're told it's WAD, they scream and rail against the system. Working as Designed has become the equivelent of Poor Design.
In real-life terms, we're all working as designed. And when we're designed with a body that's too fat, too skinny, too short, too tall, too anything, we don't like it anymore than a software customer. "I hate my fat thighs!" "I wish I was taller!" "Why can't I run a 5k in 30 minutes?"
In the software world, if a customer wants to change something, they open a Change Request, or CR with new requirements. We'll look at it, ask questions if we don't understand, and then have our developers estimate it. In real life, if you want to change something, you do something similar. You figure out what you want to change, and take the steps necessary to get to what you want.
And sometimes in both worlds, you might get one of the following answers:
And when I get either of the answers above, my inclination is to stomp my feet and whine "life is so unfair!". Even so, I work pretty darn well as designed, with a 66% up time (the rest of the time is spent in nightly maintenance), a strong frame (hardware) that allows me to do anything I want to do with just a little effort, and a mind (software) that lets me dream of the future.
In real-life terms, we're all working as designed. And when we're designed with a body that's too fat, too skinny, too short, too tall, too anything, we don't like it anymore than a software customer. "I hate my fat thighs!" "I wish I was taller!" "Why can't I run a 5k in 30 minutes?"
In the software world, if a customer wants to change something, they open a Change Request, or CR with new requirements. We'll look at it, ask questions if we don't understand, and then have our developers estimate it. In real life, if you want to change something, you do something similar. You figure out what you want to change, and take the steps necessary to get to what you want.
And sometimes in both worlds, you might get one of the following answers:
- You can do it, but it will cost you, either in time, money, or changing what you do today (I want to lose weight; I can do that by eating right and exercising (changing process), or I can pay a surgeon for a tummy tuck.)
- It can't be done. The product was built in a way that the desired change cannot be made. At least not now. Future technology might make it possible (I'd like to be a little taller please, and by the way, I'd like my Mom and Dad back).
And when I get either of the answers above, my inclination is to stomp my feet and whine "life is so unfair!". Even so, I work pretty darn well as designed, with a 66% up time (the rest of the time is spent in nightly maintenance), a strong frame (hardware) that allows me to do anything I want to do with just a little effort, and a mind (software) that lets me dream of the future.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Why Your Cat Scratches Everything In Sight
No, she's not preparing to eat you.
And no, I don't think you should declaw your cat.
Source: Why Your Cat Scratches Everything In Sight
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Bonnets and Bowties
Saturday, May 7th, is the 142nd "greatest two minutes in sports", also known as the Kentucky Derby. Women wear their finest hats (the bigger the better), and men dress in their finest spring attire. Mint Juleps are the drink of the day, and everyone cheers for their favorite horse to win.
The Speak Easy in Detroit Lakes is planning to celebrate in a big way, with southern specialities such as fried chicken and biscuits with honey butter, pecan pie, and of course Mint Juleps to wash it all down with. And even better, it's a fundraiser for my favorite place, The Marshmallow Foundation, a local animal shelter for dogs and cats. A $25 ticket gets you in to watch the Derby on the biggest screen in town, plus there will be all sorts of raffles, and silent auctions to bid on. And of course, there's a prize for the best bonnet and the best bowtie!
As a preview, Michael Mercil, owner of the Speak Easy, invited us to his home, where Lakes TV3 filmed his cooking show, The Easy Gourmet. Our episode will run all week starting Monday, and if you don't get Lakes TV3, you can watch the episode online. We wore our bonnets to mark the occasion, and had a blast filming the show. The best part? We got to eat the food after filming stopped!
So if you're in the Lakes area May 7th, why not combine a good time with a good cause? Let's all enjoy the Kentucky Derby lakes style!
The Speak Easy in Detroit Lakes is planning to celebrate in a big way, with southern specialities such as fried chicken and biscuits with honey butter, pecan pie, and of course Mint Juleps to wash it all down with. And even better, it's a fundraiser for my favorite place, The Marshmallow Foundation, a local animal shelter for dogs and cats. A $25 ticket gets you in to watch the Derby on the biggest screen in town, plus there will be all sorts of raffles, and silent auctions to bid on. And of course, there's a prize for the best bonnet and the best bowtie!
As a preview, Michael Mercil, owner of the Speak Easy, invited us to his home, where Lakes TV3 filmed his cooking show, The Easy Gourmet. Our episode will run all week starting Monday, and if you don't get Lakes TV3, you can watch the episode online. We wore our bonnets to mark the occasion, and had a blast filming the show. The best part? We got to eat the food after filming stopped!
So if you're in the Lakes area May 7th, why not combine a good time with a good cause? Let's all enjoy the Kentucky Derby lakes style!
Saturday, March 19, 2016
So You Think You're Not a Socialist
Socialism is a term that has come up more in the past few months because we have a self-proclaimed democratic socialist running for president. You say you don't believe in socialism? Okay then.
Your kids can no longer go to a public school. We taxpayers pay for that privilege even when we don't have kids of our own.
Forget about calling 911. I've never had to call the police for help, and my house hasn't burned, yet I pay my taxes to ensure that you're safe.
And speaking of being safe, who do you think pays the salaries of our men and women in the armed service? 25% of my taxes do. And I gladly pay for their benefits after they leave the service too.
Wanna mail a letter, or get packages delivered right to your mailbox? I guess you could count on UPS or FEDEX from now on, but the US Postal Service is taxpayer funded.
Socialism isn't facism. It's not communism. It's a concept that we've already embraced where we all pitch in a portion of what we have to ensure that the entire community is educated, safe, and well fed, whether they paid or not.
Oh yeah. In case you want to leave the country to avoid socialism, better not use a road. We paid for those too.
Your kids can no longer go to a public school. We taxpayers pay for that privilege even when we don't have kids of our own.
Forget about calling 911. I've never had to call the police for help, and my house hasn't burned, yet I pay my taxes to ensure that you're safe.
And speaking of being safe, who do you think pays the salaries of our men and women in the armed service? 25% of my taxes do. And I gladly pay for their benefits after they leave the service too.
Wanna mail a letter, or get packages delivered right to your mailbox? I guess you could count on UPS or FEDEX from now on, but the US Postal Service is taxpayer funded.
Socialism isn't facism. It's not communism. It's a concept that we've already embraced where we all pitch in a portion of what we have to ensure that the entire community is educated, safe, and well fed, whether they paid or not.
Oh yeah. In case you want to leave the country to avoid socialism, better not use a road. We paid for those too.
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Saying Goodbye
Meep died yesterday. I get a little sappy and say that she crossed the rainbow bridge, because I love the prose of the same name. And, just like I have for every other cat that has passed on before her, I tell her story so I don't forget.
Meep was found wandering the streets of Detroit Lakes, MN alone and too young to be weaned. The woman who found her brought her to The Marshmallow Foundation because her teenage daughter worked there on the weekends in the cat room. The shelter was overflowing at the time. There's room for about 65 cats, and there were about 80 awaiting adoption, so Meep went into a kennel with 4 or 5 other kittens.
My first day at the shelter was orientation day. I noticed a kitten that looked sick, with a runny nose, and an eye that was clouded over. The shelter director told me that this was Meep, and she had lost the sight in one eye because of a respiratory infection, something all too common in shelters.
For several weekends volunteering, I spent hours cleaning cages and feeding cats. There was little time to anything but pull the cats out of the cage, remove their bedding, change their water, bleach, rinse, repeat. But Meep was already the darling amongst the crew, and several employees expressed interest in adopting her. I even made a video of her at the shelter just because she was so darn cute. Teeny tiny, she still managed to stand her own with cats 10 times her size.
The next weekend, she was gone, and I was secretly disappointed. Then I learned that she had gone to a foster home until she could be adopted. She continued to get sick, and living in a shelter wasn't safe for her or for the other cats. I made my intention to adopt her known, and as soon as I moved into my new home, I arranged for her foster mom to bring her to me. Turns out her foster mom is my next door neighbor, on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere!
2.8 pounds. That's how much she weighed when I got her. And she had gained weight during her stay in foster care; she was just a tiny thing.
About 10 days after she came to live with me, she got sick again. More antibiotics, with a dire prognosis. But she bounced back. I had the joy of watching her play for the first time, and run through the house chasing her brother and sister. And then I'd look down to see her at my feet, wanting to be picked up and held. Always on her back. She loved being rocked, and when she reached 4 pounds, I danced with her in the kitchen.
But always, she'd get sick. Soon it was every day, for hours at a time. She would breathe fast and loud, and no amount of shower steam seemed to help. More antibiotics, steroids, until she was on 4 different medications a day. Still, she would have periods during the day when she could breathe, and though she didn't play anymore, she still loved to be held.
Yesterday was like any other. Her breathing was noisy; had been all night. She jumped into my lap while I was working, and was content. Suddenly she leaped straight up and raced out of the room. By the time I got to her she was having a full blown seizure. I put her in a quiet place and called the vet. "Come on in", they said.
She had another seizure on the way there, and a third while with the vet. At that point, my vet said that her best chance was to take her to Minneapolis, where they had specialists and equipment like MRI machines. I left with her immediately for the 4 hour drive. By the time we reached the clinic, she had had 9 seizures, and had a 10th as soon as they got her. They gave her valium, hooked up an IV, and the doctor met with me.
She had the records, she said, but wanted to hear her history from me from the beginning. Then she gently started to tell me what the options were, and what the possible prognosis was. I said, "is it FIP?"
Startled that I would know what that was, she said yes, I really think it is. FIP is almost impossible to diagnose; it's a diagnosis of exclusion. So Meepers had already been tested for everything under the sun, with negative results.
FIP is always fatal. Always.
So I could keep her overnight at the hospital, let them run the same tests she'd already had, then go to another specialist for an MRI to check her brain, but if it wasn't FIP, it was something equally as deadly. So, the day I knew was coming since the day I adopted her had at long last arrived. They brought her to me wrapped in a blanket, sleepy from the valium, and obviously traumatized from a day of seizure after seizure.
. I held her as she fell asleep and said my final goodbyes. The doctor asked if I wanted more time with her; she herself spent two hours holding her dead cat after being put to sleep, so she knew what I was going through.
I was ready. Meep was already asleep, and as the doctor pushed the syringe full of pink fluid into her IV, just like that, she took her last breath.
After she was gone, the Vet Tech got her paw prints for me to take home.
This morning, I baked the clay with the paw prints, and set it on the kitchen table. When I came out of my office, Maggie, my other girl cat, was sleeping in the middle of the table next to the prints. I've never known her to sleep there, but it made me smile.
And this afternoon I noticed the picture on my cat of the day calendar bore a striking resemblance to Meep, but healthy. I guess it was her way to let me know that she was home, and happy, and healthy.
Meep was found wandering the streets of Detroit Lakes, MN alone and too young to be weaned. The woman who found her brought her to The Marshmallow Foundation because her teenage daughter worked there on the weekends in the cat room. The shelter was overflowing at the time. There's room for about 65 cats, and there were about 80 awaiting adoption, so Meep went into a kennel with 4 or 5 other kittens.
My first day at the shelter was orientation day. I noticed a kitten that looked sick, with a runny nose, and an eye that was clouded over. The shelter director told me that this was Meep, and she had lost the sight in one eye because of a respiratory infection, something all too common in shelters.
For several weekends volunteering, I spent hours cleaning cages and feeding cats. There was little time to anything but pull the cats out of the cage, remove their bedding, change their water, bleach, rinse, repeat. But Meep was already the darling amongst the crew, and several employees expressed interest in adopting her. I even made a video of her at the shelter just because she was so darn cute. Teeny tiny, she still managed to stand her own with cats 10 times her size.
The next weekend, she was gone, and I was secretly disappointed. Then I learned that she had gone to a foster home until she could be adopted. She continued to get sick, and living in a shelter wasn't safe for her or for the other cats. I made my intention to adopt her known, and as soon as I moved into my new home, I arranged for her foster mom to bring her to me. Turns out her foster mom is my next door neighbor, on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere!
2.8 pounds. That's how much she weighed when I got her. And she had gained weight during her stay in foster care; she was just a tiny thing.
About 10 days after she came to live with me, she got sick again. More antibiotics, with a dire prognosis. But she bounced back. I had the joy of watching her play for the first time, and run through the house chasing her brother and sister. And then I'd look down to see her at my feet, wanting to be picked up and held. Always on her back. She loved being rocked, and when she reached 4 pounds, I danced with her in the kitchen.
But always, she'd get sick. Soon it was every day, for hours at a time. She would breathe fast and loud, and no amount of shower steam seemed to help. More antibiotics, steroids, until she was on 4 different medications a day. Still, she would have periods during the day when she could breathe, and though she didn't play anymore, she still loved to be held.
Yesterday was like any other. Her breathing was noisy; had been all night. She jumped into my lap while I was working, and was content. Suddenly she leaped straight up and raced out of the room. By the time I got to her she was having a full blown seizure. I put her in a quiet place and called the vet. "Come on in", they said.
She had another seizure on the way there, and a third while with the vet. At that point, my vet said that her best chance was to take her to Minneapolis, where they had specialists and equipment like MRI machines. I left with her immediately for the 4 hour drive. By the time we reached the clinic, she had had 9 seizures, and had a 10th as soon as they got her. They gave her valium, hooked up an IV, and the doctor met with me.
She had the records, she said, but wanted to hear her history from me from the beginning. Then she gently started to tell me what the options were, and what the possible prognosis was. I said, "is it FIP?"
Startled that I would know what that was, she said yes, I really think it is. FIP is almost impossible to diagnose; it's a diagnosis of exclusion. So Meepers had already been tested for everything under the sun, with negative results.
FIP is always fatal. Always.
So I could keep her overnight at the hospital, let them run the same tests she'd already had, then go to another specialist for an MRI to check her brain, but if it wasn't FIP, it was something equally as deadly. So, the day I knew was coming since the day I adopted her had at long last arrived. They brought her to me wrapped in a blanket, sleepy from the valium, and obviously traumatized from a day of seizure after seizure.
. I held her as she fell asleep and said my final goodbyes. The doctor asked if I wanted more time with her; she herself spent two hours holding her dead cat after being put to sleep, so she knew what I was going through.I was ready. Meep was already asleep, and as the doctor pushed the syringe full of pink fluid into her IV, just like that, she took her last breath.
After she was gone, the Vet Tech got her paw prints for me to take home.
This morning, I baked the clay with the paw prints, and set it on the kitchen table. When I came out of my office, Maggie, my other girl cat, was sleeping in the middle of the table next to the prints. I've never known her to sleep there, but it made me smile.
And this afternoon I noticed the picture on my cat of the day calendar bore a striking resemblance to Meep, but healthy. I guess it was her way to let me know that she was home, and happy, and healthy.
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
Author unknown...
Friday, March 11, 2016
Does My Cat Like Me?
Dogs are so easy to read; their enthusiasm for everyone and everything is interpreted as love. But what about cats? Their reputation for being aloof, solitary creatures makes it hard to believe that they could love anyone.
But cats show that they like us in different ways.
So how does your cat tell you that they love you?
But cats show that they like us in different ways.
- Trust. A cat's belly is their most vulnerable body part. If a cat rolls over and exposes their belly to you, it means they trust you. Trust equals love in the cat kingdom. It doesn't mean that they actually want you to rub their belly, unlike a dog. Two of my cats love to be held on their back; they love me very much.
- They have the capability to hurt us, yet don't. If you ignored my advice and went for a cat's belly, you may have experienced the "love bite". Biting their human doesn't equal love; not biting hard enough to pierce your skin does. Biting always means, "I've had enough; don't do that anymore".
- Presents. If your cat brings you dead things, they want to feed you. Food equals love. If they bring you live things, they are concerned about your welfare. It's obvious you don't know how to hunt, so they'll start with the basics. Here's a live mouse. I'll drop it in front of you so that you can kill it yourself.
- Using the litter box in the room closest to you. Okay, so I'm not so sure about this one. In the human world, going to the bathroom with the door open while talking to your partner signifies that you're very relaxed with each other. In the cat world, I think they just want to smell their poop.
- Smell. If a cat loves you, they love how you smell. The longer you've gone without showering the better. And if you go running on a hot day, your shoes are like catnip. My cat Maggie loves to stick her nose in my ear and lick it. And my other cats are fascinated with my reading glasses, probably because they smell like me.
- Marking you as their own. Rubbing against your legs, rubbing their cheeks on you, head butting; these are all ways of transmitting a cats scent onto you. It's like hanging a sign that says "My Human - Keep Out".
So how does your cat tell you that they love you?
Monday, March 7, 2016
This is What Donald Trump Spawns
Lest we think that The Donald is an isolated case, look at what's happening in Texas. Austin is in Travis County, and they have chosen this guy to represent the Republican party.
A look inside the social media blasts of Robert Morrow, the newly elected chairman of the Travis County Republican Party who thinks Rick Perry is bisexual and won't stop talking about politicians' genitals.
Source: The 18 craziest tweets by Robert Morrow, newly elected chairman of Travis County Republican Party - San Antonio Express-News
And if you think that's an abomination, let's look at another candidate that won big in Texas on Super Tuesday. This woman, who believes that dinosaurs died out because they were just babies on Noah's Ark and too young to procreate, will soon have a big say on the Texas Board of Education.
Other beliefs she has include President Obama having a soft spot for gays because he was a gay prostitute when he was younger in order to pay for his drugs.
I have two thoughts about this. 1. I'm extremely happy I got out of Texas when I did - Minnesota is a much saner place to live, and 2. the Republican party is going super nova. Let's hope that it creates a black hole where all these crazies get sucked in to the oblivion.
A look inside the social media blasts of Robert Morrow, the newly elected chairman of the Travis County Republican Party who thinks Rick Perry is bisexual and won't stop talking about politicians' genitals.
Source: The 18 craziest tweets by Robert Morrow, newly elected chairman of Travis County Republican Party - San Antonio Express-News
And if you think that's an abomination, let's look at another candidate that won big in Texas on Super Tuesday. This woman, who believes that dinosaurs died out because they were just babies on Noah's Ark and too young to procreate, will soon have a big say on the Texas Board of Education.
Other beliefs she has include President Obama having a soft spot for gays because he was a gay prostitute when he was younger in order to pay for his drugs.
I have two thoughts about this. 1. I'm extremely happy I got out of Texas when I did - Minnesota is a much saner place to live, and 2. the Republican party is going super nova. Let's hope that it creates a black hole where all these crazies get sucked in to the oblivion.
Thursday, March 3, 2016
50 Years Ago - The Blizzard of 1966
We lived in Casselton, ND at the time, where my father owned the local hardware store Coast to Coast. Our next door neighbors were Bud and Jane Sinner; Bud went on to become the governor of North Dakota.
My father typed up his account of the storm, which I'm lucky to still have in my possesion. I was only 5, but have vivid memories of the event.
The snow started Wednesday morning, and by Thursday morning there were drifts up to 10 feet high, and the neighbor kids were sledding. My little brother wanted to join the fun, and while Dad was putting his boots on, Bruce slipped out the door. The Sinner kids had by that time all gone back inside, and Bruce was nowhere to be found. Mrs. Sinner said she hadn't seen him, and Dad got very scared, since the blizzard was making visibility very difficult. Another neighbor thought she'd seen him out front of the house, and Dad saw his boot prints heading into the yard next door. When Dad caught up with Bruce, he was crying and had enough of the storm.
The wind howled and snow fell all Thursday night and the drifts around the house kept getting bigger and bigger. By Friday morning, we couldn't see across the street, and the snow in the front of the house was about 6 inches below the top of the picture window.
[caption id="attachment_96" align="alignnone" width="185"]
Living Room Picture Window[/caption]My older brother Mick crawled out of a bedroom window and shoveled the front and back doors open. He managed to keep our exits open until about 4:00 Friday afternoon, when the shovel broke.
That night Mom went to bed anxious that we would all suffocate, and Dad called the mayor of Casselton, Frank Woell, to tell him we might need help before morning, as we were completely shut in except for about 2 feet on the north side of the house.
The next morning we awoke to find that all exits from the house were completely sealed off. Luckily, the phone still worked, so Dad called for help. Bud Sinner was the first on the scene, and he started digging. He finally cleared enough snow from the top of the kitchen window so that he could see in and let us know that help was on the way.
[caption id="attachment_92" align="alignnone" width="300"]
Kitchen Window[/caption]Mom called Mitzi Moos, our neighbor across the street and asked if we could come there once we were rescued. She had a two story house and wasn't affected by the snow as badly as we were. In the meantime, our rescuers, all neighbors, tunneled alongside the house until they had one window opened up. Two of the men went over to the Moos house to make sure that we could get in the door there, and then came back for us, all ready in our snowsuits. Bud Sinner led the way, but because of the density of the storm we overshot the Moos house and had to backtrack. I vividly remember sitting on Bud Sinner's lap and sliding down the snow bank to the garage entrance on the ground floor.
By 5 pm Saturday the storm had started to abate, and we went back home. Sunday people from all over town came to walk on our roof and marvel at the amount of snow.
As kids, we thought it was pretty cool that we could sit on top of the clothesline, but our parents weren't so happy!
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
What Happens When Your Dog or Cat Runs Away?
For most of us, it's a nightmare come true. Fido or Fluffy somehow escaped the yard/house and won't come when called. We might put posters up, offer rewards, or simply hope that someone will find our pet and return them home safely.
But we didn't microchip our pet, because, you know, the chances of it happening to us? No way! And we've heard that it's expensive. And our pet doesn't have a collar either, because we want our kids to run free, unencumbered by tethers, fences, or leashes.
So what happens? If you're lucky, the police or a good Samaritan will see Fido/Fluffy wandering down the highway and pick them up. If they happen to be found in Detroit Lakes, Frazee, Audubon, Lake Park, Waubun, Mahnomen Callaway, or Becker County, they come to The Marshmallow Foundation, which acts as the city pound for these towns. Scared and alone, they'll spend their first 7-10 days in isolation. You see, we don't know your Fido/Fluffy. We don't know that they are a member of your family. We checked for a microchip and a collar, hoping we could quickly reunite them with their family, but they had neither.
We don't know if Fido/Fluffy has rabies. Every time we feed them, clean their kennel, or try to interact with them, we face the possibility of getting bit. And getting bit means a possible trip to the ER for painful rabies shots.
We put the word out as best we can, and hope that a loving, responsible, owner steps forward to claim Fido/Fluffy. Most often, nobody does, and they become available for adoption. AFTER we invest in rabies shots, worm them, give them flea medications, and sometimes even a spay or neuter if we happen to have extra funds on hand.
But what happens if you do find that Fido/Fluffy has landed at Marshmallow? Whoo hoo! I can go get my baby and bring him/her home, right?
Not necessarily. By law, we must have proof that Fido/Fluffy is up-to-date on their rabies shots. That means a certificate signed by your vet. And depending on what city Fido/Fluffy was found in, there might be a city fine that we have to collect. Finally, we don't board your baby for free - $20 a day barely pays for food, employee salaries, litter, bleach, and 24 hour care.
Now, if you're a responsible pet owner, you'll be happy to pay for the release of your precious family member. And you might just get that microchip implanted.
Last weekend, I had a frantic phone call from someone whose kitty had been found and been brought to Marshmallow more than a week before. This kitty had a collar, but no contact information. This kitty didn't have a microchip, and hadn't been spayed, so she was in heat. She was still in isolation, waiting for an opening at the vet to get her rabies shots, preventative vaccines, and wellness exam.
When her owner came, she said "that's my Fluffy", and immediately opened the kennel door to pick her up. I was glad that Fluffy's owner had arrived, but had to inform her that she couldn't just walk out with Fluffy. First, did she have a rabies vaccination certificate? No - Fluffy hadn't been vaccinated. Okay, so we can't release Fluffy to you until she has her rabies shots, which we will arrange with the local vet as soon as we can get an appointment. Oh, and you also owe the city a fine, plus there's the boarding fee of $20 a day you need to come up with as well.
Faced with a bill over $200, I offered the owner an option to wait until Fluffy was ready for adoption and then put in an application for her. The adoption fee is just over $100, and well, I've already told you the money we've already invested in Fluffy by that point.
Sadly, this owner wasn't able to come up with the funds for either option. She literally threw Fluffy back in the kennel and stormed out.
That microchip doesn't seem so expensive now, does it?
But we didn't microchip our pet, because, you know, the chances of it happening to us? No way! And we've heard that it's expensive. And our pet doesn't have a collar either, because we want our kids to run free, unencumbered by tethers, fences, or leashes.
So what happens? If you're lucky, the police or a good Samaritan will see Fido/Fluffy wandering down the highway and pick them up. If they happen to be found in Detroit Lakes, Frazee, Audubon, Lake Park, Waubun, Mahnomen Callaway, or Becker County, they come to The Marshmallow Foundation, which acts as the city pound for these towns. Scared and alone, they'll spend their first 7-10 days in isolation. You see, we don't know your Fido/Fluffy. We don't know that they are a member of your family. We checked for a microchip and a collar, hoping we could quickly reunite them with their family, but they had neither.
We don't know if Fido/Fluffy has rabies. Every time we feed them, clean their kennel, or try to interact with them, we face the possibility of getting bit. And getting bit means a possible trip to the ER for painful rabies shots.
We put the word out as best we can, and hope that a loving, responsible, owner steps forward to claim Fido/Fluffy. Most often, nobody does, and they become available for adoption. AFTER we invest in rabies shots, worm them, give them flea medications, and sometimes even a spay or neuter if we happen to have extra funds on hand.
But what happens if you do find that Fido/Fluffy has landed at Marshmallow? Whoo hoo! I can go get my baby and bring him/her home, right?
Not necessarily. By law, we must have proof that Fido/Fluffy is up-to-date on their rabies shots. That means a certificate signed by your vet. And depending on what city Fido/Fluffy was found in, there might be a city fine that we have to collect. Finally, we don't board your baby for free - $20 a day barely pays for food, employee salaries, litter, bleach, and 24 hour care.
Now, if you're a responsible pet owner, you'll be happy to pay for the release of your precious family member. And you might just get that microchip implanted.
Last weekend, I had a frantic phone call from someone whose kitty had been found and been brought to Marshmallow more than a week before. This kitty had a collar, but no contact information. This kitty didn't have a microchip, and hadn't been spayed, so she was in heat. She was still in isolation, waiting for an opening at the vet to get her rabies shots, preventative vaccines, and wellness exam.
When her owner came, she said "that's my Fluffy", and immediately opened the kennel door to pick her up. I was glad that Fluffy's owner had arrived, but had to inform her that she couldn't just walk out with Fluffy. First, did she have a rabies vaccination certificate? No - Fluffy hadn't been vaccinated. Okay, so we can't release Fluffy to you until she has her rabies shots, which we will arrange with the local vet as soon as we can get an appointment. Oh, and you also owe the city a fine, plus there's the boarding fee of $20 a day you need to come up with as well.
Faced with a bill over $200, I offered the owner an option to wait until Fluffy was ready for adoption and then put in an application for her. The adoption fee is just over $100, and well, I've already told you the money we've already invested in Fluffy by that point.
Sadly, this owner wasn't able to come up with the funds for either option. She literally threw Fluffy back in the kennel and stormed out.
That microchip doesn't seem so expensive now, does it?
Presidential Candidates on Animal Welfare
If you are an animal lover and still undecided on what presidential candidate you favor, this article might help you make up your mind.Facts about the presidential candidates' voting records and positions on animal rights and welfare.
Source: Presidential Candidates on Animal Welfare - Rescue Revolution
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Is It Possible to Have Too Many Hobbies?
Over the years I have had many hobbies. In my younger years there was macrame and embroidery. A neighbor taught me how to crochet, a skill I still use today.
As I moved into my middle years, family became more and more important, and so a passion for genealogy was born. Last year I took a couple of painting classes, you know, the ones where you get to drink and paint? That set me off on buying my own canvas and paints. And then the adult coloring book craze hit. And soap. I have tons of silicone soap molds and essential oils for making soap. I can make my own butter, preserve some pretty decent jam, and whip up a nice beurre blanc on command.
My latest hobby has been learning to sew. Again. Home Ec back in high school didn't go so well for me; sewing was not my strong point, and I don't think I ever did finish that skirt.
Once Spring comes around, I'll be gardening, and maybe even build my own raised beds with all the power tools I've bought over the years thinking that building stuff would be cool.
Oh yeah, and I actually have a pork belly hanging from my garage ceiling that can just about be called pancetta. I'm learning how to cure meat.
When I think of my dusty house with the dirty dishes in the sink, my desk strewn with papers that need filing, and the laundry that needs to be done, I wonder, do I have too many hobbies? Then I see a cool quilt block on Pinterest and I don't care any more.
As I moved into my middle years, family became more and more important, and so a passion for genealogy was born. Last year I took a couple of painting classes, you know, the ones where you get to drink and paint? That set me off on buying my own canvas and paints. And then the adult coloring book craze hit. And soap. I have tons of silicone soap molds and essential oils for making soap. I can make my own butter, preserve some pretty decent jam, and whip up a nice beurre blanc on command.
My latest hobby has been learning to sew. Again. Home Ec back in high school didn't go so well for me; sewing was not my strong point, and I don't think I ever did finish that skirt.
Once Spring comes around, I'll be gardening, and maybe even build my own raised beds with all the power tools I've bought over the years thinking that building stuff would be cool.
Oh yeah, and I actually have a pork belly hanging from my garage ceiling that can just about be called pancetta. I'm learning how to cure meat.
When I think of my dusty house with the dirty dishes in the sink, my desk strewn with papers that need filing, and the laundry that needs to be done, I wonder, do I have too many hobbies? Then I see a cool quilt block on Pinterest and I don't care any more.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Stupid Is As Stupid Does
I don't think we can deny the truth any longer. The likely GOP nominee will be a billionaire businessman who is best known for his disgusting quotes about women, Mexicans, and prisoners of war. This is the same party that produced Abraham Lincoln.
I keep hearing that people are angry, and "voting with their middle finger". I get that. I'm angry too, at a congress that can't seem to work together. I'm angry that the gun violence continues unabated, and that any reasonable suggestions to slow it down are either ignored, or ridiculed because they come from a sitting President that is reviled by the right.
But, angry as I am, I'm not about to be stupid when it comes to my future. If I have a bad day at work, I don't tell my boss to take this job and shove it. If the market has a downturn, I'm not going to sell everything, go off the grid, and build a bomb shelter in my backyard.
So why are so many Americans making the decision to support a racist, narcissistic, misogynist? I'd like to think that at heart, 99.9% of people are good, decent, hardworking folks that just want to live their lives. So are the people voting with their middle finger poorly educated (the billionaire LOVES the poorly educated; he said so himself), or are the cockroaches of America coming out to feast in the darkness?
Cockroaches eat what is available to them: cockroaches that inhabit sewers feed on sewage, while species living on dead trees consume decaying wood. So is America rotting internally, or will this election period shine a light on everything that's wrong with this country and send the cockroaches scattering?
I keep hearing that people are angry, and "voting with their middle finger". I get that. I'm angry too, at a congress that can't seem to work together. I'm angry that the gun violence continues unabated, and that any reasonable suggestions to slow it down are either ignored, or ridiculed because they come from a sitting President that is reviled by the right.
But, angry as I am, I'm not about to be stupid when it comes to my future. If I have a bad day at work, I don't tell my boss to take this job and shove it. If the market has a downturn, I'm not going to sell everything, go off the grid, and build a bomb shelter in my backyard.
So why are so many Americans making the decision to support a racist, narcissistic, misogynist? I'd like to think that at heart, 99.9% of people are good, decent, hardworking folks that just want to live their lives. So are the people voting with their middle finger poorly educated (the billionaire LOVES the poorly educated; he said so himself), or are the cockroaches of America coming out to feast in the darkness?
Cockroaches eat what is available to them: cockroaches that inhabit sewers feed on sewage, while species living on dead trees consume decaying wood. So is America rotting internally, or will this election period shine a light on everything that's wrong with this country and send the cockroaches scattering?
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Living in the Moment
In a previous post, I talked about how having pets was somewhat like having small children. And when one of those kids is chronically ill, life can be stressful.
My days with Meep revolve around her breathing and her eating. At 8 months old, she should be 7 or 8 pounds, but instead is 3 1/2 pounds (and it was a struggle to get her there). Every morning I wonder if she's going to eat or not, and how much she'll eat before she turns away. Immediately after breakfast Meep gets weighed. It's one of the ways I can monitor her health.
Since she was found on the beach by the Detroit Lakes pavilion, Meepers has had one respiratory infection after another. She's been on antibiotics most of her short life, and the Vets I've taken her to don't hold out much hope of her living to a full year.
Night before last, her breathing was worse than ever. She was breathing through her mouth, and every 6 or so breaths would struggle to get air. In bed, she immediately curled up under my chin to "sleep". I could hear every agonizing breath she took, and cried because there was nothing I could do that I hadn't already done. I truly thought that she was going to die in my arms. But then, in the middle of the night, she stood up and sneezed 3 times. And then she could breathe again! When morning came, she was able to eat, and while her meouw was hoarse, it was there.
Last night, she was struggling again, but this time she wouldn't come out from under the bed. Knowing that cats often go off to die, once again I thought she was a goner. Until 5 am, when she bounced on my bed and started to wrestle with Leo. She ate a good breakfast, and has been engaging in play, which is rare for her. Most of the time she doesn't have the energy to chase after Leo and Maggie.
So for now, I'm living in the moment. Meep is alive, and is having fun. When I hold her upside down, she seems to have tremors of her head and feet; perhaps from oxygen deprivation. And by late afternoon, my guess is that she's going to be struggling again. But this is enough for now.
My days with Meep revolve around her breathing and her eating. At 8 months old, she should be 7 or 8 pounds, but instead is 3 1/2 pounds (and it was a struggle to get her there). Every morning I wonder if she's going to eat or not, and how much she'll eat before she turns away. Immediately after breakfast Meep gets weighed. It's one of the ways I can monitor her health.
Since she was found on the beach by the Detroit Lakes pavilion, Meepers has had one respiratory infection after another. She's been on antibiotics most of her short life, and the Vets I've taken her to don't hold out much hope of her living to a full year.
Night before last, her breathing was worse than ever. She was breathing through her mouth, and every 6 or so breaths would struggle to get air. In bed, she immediately curled up under my chin to "sleep". I could hear every agonizing breath she took, and cried because there was nothing I could do that I hadn't already done. I truly thought that she was going to die in my arms. But then, in the middle of the night, she stood up and sneezed 3 times. And then she could breathe again! When morning came, she was able to eat, and while her meouw was hoarse, it was there.
Last night, she was struggling again, but this time she wouldn't come out from under the bed. Knowing that cats often go off to die, once again I thought she was a goner. Until 5 am, when she bounced on my bed and started to wrestle with Leo. She ate a good breakfast, and has been engaging in play, which is rare for her. Most of the time she doesn't have the energy to chase after Leo and Maggie.
So for now, I'm living in the moment. Meep is alive, and is having fun. When I hold her upside down, she seems to have tremors of her head and feet; perhaps from oxygen deprivation. And by late afternoon, my guess is that she's going to be struggling again. But this is enough for now.
Monday, February 15, 2016
A (Not So) New Cat Litter Solution
In a previous post, I talked about traditional litter solutions. My choice was an unscented, clumping litter, which has served me well over the years. Except when the litter was scattered out of the litter box. Except when the litter was tracked all over the house (ever try to sleep well with a bed full of it?).
My new pet sitter told me that most of her clients had switched to Tidy Cats Breeze, so of course I had to check it out. The system consists of a box, much like a regular litter box, with a drawer below it. The box has grates in the bottom, and the actual "litter" is pellets. A pad in the bottom drawer soaks up the urine that comes through the grates, while the pellets hold the poop. For a healthy adult cat, the poop rarely sticks to the pellets, so your daily chore is to scoop the poop only. Weekly, the pad is changed, and monthly the pellets should be replaced.
I bought a couple of the systems, and replaced one of my regular litter boxes with the Breeze system. Before I could even step away, Meep used the new box, and the other two kitties were not far behind.
Now, as I said, a healthy adult cat's poop is great for this system. Kitten poop and loose stools? Not so much. It still works, but the pellets stick to the poop, and diahrrea will mean a total cleanout before you wanted to.
Pluses:
Minuses:
My new pet sitter told me that most of her clients had switched to Tidy Cats Breeze, so of course I had to check it out. The system consists of a box, much like a regular litter box, with a drawer below it. The box has grates in the bottom, and the actual "litter" is pellets. A pad in the bottom drawer soaks up the urine that comes through the grates, while the pellets hold the poop. For a healthy adult cat, the poop rarely sticks to the pellets, so your daily chore is to scoop the poop only. Weekly, the pad is changed, and monthly the pellets should be replaced.
I bought a couple of the systems, and replaced one of my regular litter boxes with the Breeze system. Before I could even step away, Meep used the new box, and the other two kitties were not far behind.
Now, as I said, a healthy adult cat's poop is great for this system. Kitten poop and loose stools? Not so much. It still works, but the pellets stick to the poop, and diahrrea will mean a total cleanout before you wanted to.
Pluses:
- No tracking or minimal tracking (the pellets sometimes find their way outside the box, but it's easy to throw them back in)
- Less odor - the pads not only soak up the urine, but have something in them to keep the smell down
Minuses:
- Expensive. I was able to find the complete starter system at Amazon for $19.99, but now the price is $29.99. For replacement pellets and pads, Chewy.com seems to have the best prices.
- Availability in my area is online only, although some Walmarts carry the supplies
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Motherhood at 55
I don't have human kids, but I do have three feline kids, all about 8 months old, and all with different baby daddies. Growing up as they did in a shelter, they came with their share of issues. Leo and Maggie both came home with colds, and they are both still blowing snot everywhere; on each other, on me, on my keyboard, on the wall...it's amazing how far that stuff travels. Getting dried snot off a painted wall is not easy; I finally found the toilet paper and water trick. Put a wet piece of toilet paper over it and it comes right off a few minutes later.
And Meep, well, she's definitely a special needs kitten. She's mostly blind in one eye, and has had breathing issues her entire life. The last Vet I took her to said he didn't hold out much hope for a long life. The possibilities of what are wrong include Feline Infectious Peritonitis (no treatment, fatal), feline heartworm (no treatment, mostly fatal), and congestive heart failure (no real treatments, mostly fatal).
I can imagine what a mother goes through, at least a little. The nights when Meep's breathing becomes so labored I spend hours with her inside a bathroom with a hot shower going. This afternoon, Leo had explosive diarrhea - all over the wall behind the litter box. I discovered that when I picked Meep up and found that she had diarrhea all over the side of her face - of course she had to lay in it!
So after Meep got her bath, I sat down to write this post. Focused as I was, I ignored the odd noises behind me. Until it hit me - that noise was coming from behind the stacked washer and dryer. Leo, practising his tightrope walking skills, decided to explore the back of the machines by walking on the cords back there. He should keep his day job, because he fell down to the ground, and there was no room to walk out. Who exactly would you call to rescue a cat stuck behind a washing machine - the fire department? I used my MacGyver skills and lowered a baking rack in the slot between the washer and the sink cabinet. He finally got the hint and clawed his way to the top so I could grab him.
And now to clean up the snot that Maggie just blew all over my keyboard.
And Meep, well, she's definitely a special needs kitten. She's mostly blind in one eye, and has had breathing issues her entire life. The last Vet I took her to said he didn't hold out much hope for a long life. The possibilities of what are wrong include Feline Infectious Peritonitis (no treatment, fatal), feline heartworm (no treatment, mostly fatal), and congestive heart failure (no real treatments, mostly fatal).
I can imagine what a mother goes through, at least a little. The nights when Meep's breathing becomes so labored I spend hours with her inside a bathroom with a hot shower going. This afternoon, Leo had explosive diarrhea - all over the wall behind the litter box. I discovered that when I picked Meep up and found that she had diarrhea all over the side of her face - of course she had to lay in it!
So after Meep got her bath, I sat down to write this post. Focused as I was, I ignored the odd noises behind me. Until it hit me - that noise was coming from behind the stacked washer and dryer. Leo, practising his tightrope walking skills, decided to explore the back of the machines by walking on the cords back there. He should keep his day job, because he fell down to the ground, and there was no room to walk out. Who exactly would you call to rescue a cat stuck behind a washing machine - the fire department? I used my MacGyver skills and lowered a baking rack in the slot between the washer and the sink cabinet. He finally got the hint and clawed his way to the top so I could grab him.
And now to clean up the snot that Maggie just blew all over my keyboard.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
So You Want To Build a House
When I made the decision to move back to the region full-time from Texas, I was torn. Should I be practical and buy a townhouse in Fargo or Moorhead where I didn't have the upkeep to worry about? Or how about an old farmhouse in the country, where I could admire the architecture of the house but would have to deal with ancient plumbing and electrical?
In the end, I let my dream be my guide. My dream was pretty simple. I wanted a house in the woods with backyard chickens and a big garden. The chickens narrowed the field a lot after I did some homework. Dallas and Fort Worth Texas both allow backyard chickens in the city limits, so I assumed that the small town I was leaning towards settling in (Detroit Lakes) would too. One call to the courthouse told me that no, chickens were not allowed in the city, or in the entire county for that matter, unless the property was zoned agricultural. My views on that can be another blog post entirely.
I kept looking. The 2-acres just outside of town were great, but it was zoned residential. And then I happened on a 5-acre, mostly wooded plot 5 minutes outside of town. Mature maple, oak, birch, and aspen grew on rolling hills, and wild raspberries were thick. And the best part? It was zoned agricultural, so chickens were possible.
I decided to build my dream home. Little did I know what I was getting into. So if you decide to build, keep these thoughts in mind.
Do you have a plan? If you live in a metropolitan area, your builder probably has stock plans to choose from. My builder was completely custom, meaning if I drew something on the back of a napkin, he'd build it. Are you thinking about a one story house? Two story? Multi-level? There are lots of free house plans on the internet to get you started.
How confident are you when it comes to design? In my case, I was responsible for choosing everything that went into and on my house. Everything. The color, style, materials of the siding and the roof; do I want a pillar in the entryway? What flooring - tile, wood, carpet, cork? What style doors? Painted or natural wood? And don't forget the door knobs, light fixtures, countertops, kitchen design, and even where should electrical outlets be. If you don't feel confident, you'll end up with a nice house, but probably a little on the safe side. Hire an interior designer if you're unsure.
What's your budget? The cost that a builder will give you up front is very likely to increase as the project goes on. For example, halfway through the project I decided to go with geothermal for my heating and cooling. It's a proven technology, saves about a third of your costs for the rest of your life, and there's a nice federal tax credit for it this year. But it added $44,000 to my budget! I'm getting about a third of that back on my taxes this year, but it's still a big number. Make sure that you're working with a bank that can tell you up front what you qualify for, and try to put at least 20% down to avoid Private Mortgage Insurance (PMI).
In the end, I'm happy with what I did. I wish I would have opted for tankless water heaters, since it takes a few minutes to get hot water to the other end of the house, but that's a small detail. I have a killer view from my home office of the woods, where big fluffy snowflakes are right now floating through the aspen branches. And this spring I'll work on the chickens and the garden part of my dream.
In the end, I let my dream be my guide. My dream was pretty simple. I wanted a house in the woods with backyard chickens and a big garden. The chickens narrowed the field a lot after I did some homework. Dallas and Fort Worth Texas both allow backyard chickens in the city limits, so I assumed that the small town I was leaning towards settling in (Detroit Lakes) would too. One call to the courthouse told me that no, chickens were not allowed in the city, or in the entire county for that matter, unless the property was zoned agricultural. My views on that can be another blog post entirely.
I kept looking. The 2-acres just outside of town were great, but it was zoned residential. And then I happened on a 5-acre, mostly wooded plot 5 minutes outside of town. Mature maple, oak, birch, and aspen grew on rolling hills, and wild raspberries were thick. And the best part? It was zoned agricultural, so chickens were possible.
I decided to build my dream home. Little did I know what I was getting into. So if you decide to build, keep these thoughts in mind.
Do you have a plan? If you live in a metropolitan area, your builder probably has stock plans to choose from. My builder was completely custom, meaning if I drew something on the back of a napkin, he'd build it. Are you thinking about a one story house? Two story? Multi-level? There are lots of free house plans on the internet to get you started.
How confident are you when it comes to design? In my case, I was responsible for choosing everything that went into and on my house. Everything. The color, style, materials of the siding and the roof; do I want a pillar in the entryway? What flooring - tile, wood, carpet, cork? What style doors? Painted or natural wood? And don't forget the door knobs, light fixtures, countertops, kitchen design, and even where should electrical outlets be. If you don't feel confident, you'll end up with a nice house, but probably a little on the safe side. Hire an interior designer if you're unsure.
What's your budget? The cost that a builder will give you up front is very likely to increase as the project goes on. For example, halfway through the project I decided to go with geothermal for my heating and cooling. It's a proven technology, saves about a third of your costs for the rest of your life, and there's a nice federal tax credit for it this year. But it added $44,000 to my budget! I'm getting about a third of that back on my taxes this year, but it's still a big number. Make sure that you're working with a bank that can tell you up front what you qualify for, and try to put at least 20% down to avoid Private Mortgage Insurance (PMI).
In the end, I'm happy with what I did. I wish I would have opted for tankless water heaters, since it takes a few minutes to get hot water to the other end of the house, but that's a small detail. I have a killer view from my home office of the woods, where big fluffy snowflakes are right now floating through the aspen branches. And this spring I'll work on the chickens and the garden part of my dream.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
The Straight Poop on Cat Litter
So you want a cat, or have a cat. You know that you need litter boxes, but what kind? How many? And what's the best cat litter to use? From my 25 + years of having cats, I've tried them all.
Let's start with the litter box itself. Should you get a covered or uncovered box? It seems that a covered box will help with odor control, right? Maybe, but it also traps odors inside the box, which makes it less likely that your picky feline will want to use it. A cat's sense of smell is about 14 times as strong as a humans, so if you can smell the litter, imagine how your cat feels. The rule of thumb for how many litter boxes you need is one for each cat, plus one extra. Some cats are finicky enough that they want their own box, or some will use one box for urine and another for poop. Of course, those with space constraints might not be able to have multiple boxes, so if you can't, just make sure that the box is kept really clean to avoid your kitties from finding other spots in your house to do their business.
Along the same lines, it seems counterintuitive to use unscented litter if you want to control odor, but unscented is the way to go. Scented litter tends to waft throughout the house, and everyone will know you have a litter box. Cat litter manufacturers want you to buy the scented stuff; sometimes it's hard to find the unscented in the store, but from personal experience, it's worth it. As long as you keep the litter scooped at least once a day, no one needs to know that you have cats as soon as soon as they walk in the door.
And for goodness sake, spend a little more and get the clumping litter. Yes, I know that the clay litter is cheaper, but in my opinion it's not worth it. It's what most people donate to The Marshmallow Foundation and it's dusty, smelly, and a mess to work with. And we end up adding baking soda to it anyway to try to control the odor. Plus, with clay litter, you'll end up having to do a complete clean out of the box much more often than with clumping litter.
So for a happy, healthy cat, do make sure that you provide the best possible environment for them; you'll be rewarded with head bumps and kitty kisses for years to come!
Let's start with the litter box itself. Should you get a covered or uncovered box? It seems that a covered box will help with odor control, right? Maybe, but it also traps odors inside the box, which makes it less likely that your picky feline will want to use it. A cat's sense of smell is about 14 times as strong as a humans, so if you can smell the litter, imagine how your cat feels. The rule of thumb for how many litter boxes you need is one for each cat, plus one extra. Some cats are finicky enough that they want their own box, or some will use one box for urine and another for poop. Of course, those with space constraints might not be able to have multiple boxes, so if you can't, just make sure that the box is kept really clean to avoid your kitties from finding other spots in your house to do their business.
Along the same lines, it seems counterintuitive to use unscented litter if you want to control odor, but unscented is the way to go. Scented litter tends to waft throughout the house, and everyone will know you have a litter box. Cat litter manufacturers want you to buy the scented stuff; sometimes it's hard to find the unscented in the store, but from personal experience, it's worth it. As long as you keep the litter scooped at least once a day, no one needs to know that you have cats as soon as soon as they walk in the door.
And for goodness sake, spend a little more and get the clumping litter. Yes, I know that the clay litter is cheaper, but in my opinion it's not worth it. It's what most people donate to The Marshmallow Foundation and it's dusty, smelly, and a mess to work with. And we end up adding baking soda to it anyway to try to control the odor. Plus, with clay litter, you'll end up having to do a complete clean out of the box much more often than with clumping litter.
So for a happy, healthy cat, do make sure that you provide the best possible environment for them; you'll be rewarded with head bumps and kitty kisses for years to come!
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