Joinin' the club

My sister Mel just started a blog. See the link on the right for her blog.

Call Me Moses

On Monday night, shortly after I posted my last entry, I had a life changing experience. I saw a burning bush- that no one else saw. I was working at my part time EMS job on a truck outside of the city in the suburbs. We were transporting a routine back pain patient to the hospital (he just wanted more narcotics); I was driving and my partner, Kendra, was in the back with the patient. As I neared the hospital, I started to smell smoke. Across the street from the hospital was a bank with a row of bushes in front of it. That is not so abnormal, except that one of the bushes was on fire. It was not near anything else except for grass and other bushes which were not on fire. I felt a sudden urge to remove my boots, but I was driving so I couldn't (turns out one of my socks had slid down in my boot and was twisted and pinching). I called dispatch and advised them of the fire and to have FD on their way.

We dropped the patient off in the hospital, and gave our report to the nurse. No more than 15 minutes had passed. As we left, we drove back by the bush; there was no fire, no FD. If the fire department had seen a fire, they would have put it out, then spent at least 15-20 minutes to try to locate the cause of the fire, whether it was an electrical cord or a cigarette. The fire must have gone out before they got there. I started to think that I must have been going crazy, but Kendra assured me that she had smelled the smoke from the back of the truck. She also said that she was going to start calling me Moses.

I think the bush was a sign for me to travel to a foreign land, like Moses did. With that in mind, Sarah and I leave for Italy tomorrow. Which is kind of convenient, since we were planning that anyways. I'll try to blog while in Italy, but if I can't I'll sure have a lot to say when I return.

Sincerely,
Moses

Copycat!

My mother just started a new blog. The link is on the right side of the page.

Miscommunication, Part 2

You may have read my story about buying the lawnmower bagger from the guy who lived "in" Fountain Inn. If you haven't, click here: http://rwales-medic.blogspot.com/2006/03/miscommunication.html

Well, the story seems to have come to a conclusion today. Nine days after I advertised the Craftsman bagger in the classifieds a man came by and traded baggers with me. While my new bagger still is not exactly the right one, it appears that I will not need a welder to adapt it to my lawnmower. Tin snips, a drill, several extra bolts, and a lot of prayer . . . yes, but a welder, no.

He also saw some walkway stepping stones that Sarah had dug out of the lawn; they were leaning up against the front step. I told him he could take them if he wanted and he gladly obliged. I tried to think of ways to get him to take my scrap pile out of the back yard, but I was not creative enough to think of a logical sounding sales pitch. I guess I'll have to dispose of it myself.

Uno, Phase 10, Dutch Blitz, and Split

Last night Sarah and I had Joe and JoAnna Reese over for dinner and games. They have been in the area job hunting for the last week as they prepare to move down this summer from Illinois. We had a great time. For dinner I made chicken breasts stuffed with ham, mozzarella and a spinach and artichoke mix. The chicken was baked with alfredo sauce and served over pasta (My parents were at Olive Garden tonight so I have to make it sound better that what they ate). We had chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream for dessert.

After dinner we played almost every card game that Sarah and I own including Uno, Phase 10, Dutch Blitz, and Split. It was a very enjoyable time reminiscing about the good 'ole days.

Retrievers

So you have a dilemna. It is a beautiful spring day and you have stepped outside to practice using your fly-fishing rod in preparation for the fishing season. Just as you are getting ready to start casting, your golden retriever comes barrelling up to you and looks at you with adoring eyes, begging for you to play with her. What do you do in this situation?

I found the solution.

I tied one of Carina's squeeky toys to the end of the fly rod, and voila . . . problem solved. Carina did not seem to mind running back and forth past me as I flicked the bone back and forth and turned in circles. Plus, I could thouroughly wear out the puppy without running around the yard (looking like an idiot) until I am thouroughly exhausted. (I learned that "I'm too tired from playing with Carina" does not cut it as an excuse to not complete the day's "honey-do" list).

Vets and such

Our visit to the vet was more or less uneventful for me. It was a typical vet office with about six exam rooms, two vets, receptionists, and vet techs. And of course, they had the token three-legged cat. I think all vet offices have a three-legged cat. Which brings up some questions for me. Why does a kind, gentle veterinarian take an injured cat, nurse it back to health and then keep it in a office where it can be mauled daily by sick dogs? Also, aren't you glad that human doctors don't have the same practice? "Oh, that's Bill, he was crossing the road and got hit by a car. We took out his spleen and most of his colon, now he hangs around here a lot. Careful, he bites."

Carina was very excited to see other dogs, some cats, and two rats (I think the owners called them "yorkies"). There was the minor inconvenience of being violated in ways that only humans can conceive of. She handled the shots very well and the oral medicine was fine. The thermometer on the other hand . . .

Also, we didn't see Dr. Furr as intended. We saw Dr. Cooley instead. While her name didn't quite have the ring to it that Dr. Furr's name does, she seemed like a pretty good vet.

Thursday I will take Carina to visit the family (and dogs) that she will be staying with while we are in Italy. I don't foresee any problems as Carina gets along very well with all the animals she meets, even Annie.

What's in a name?

Carina is way overdue for her vaccines and check ups so I called a vet office in the area to set up an appointment. I need to get it done before we leave for Italy because we are leaving Carina with one of Sarah's coworkers who has several Golden Retrievers and Carina should have everything up to date by then.

The veterinarian's name is Dr. Furr. How perfect for someone in that professional. I did some research and the last name "Furr" comes from the Middle English "Furre" meaning a coat that is made of, or lined with fur. Maybe it is not quite so encouraging for a veterinarian's name.

So I thought it would be interesting to look up "Wales" and see the history of it (duh, let's see . . . maybe my family came from . . . I don't know . . .Wales, maybe.) Out of the 185 people who are listed as immigrating to America with the last name of Wales, 146 (79%) came from the British Isles. However, nine people came from Jamaica. Jamaica?!?!?!? I don't know what's up with that. It might be due to Jamaica's once being part of the British Empire.

Oh well, that created more questions than answers.

???????

Question of the day. Why is the word "blog" not in the spell checker on this website?

Carina's Diary

Here are some selections from Carina's diary. Enjoy.

Day 1: Sure is bright out here.

Day 7: My eyes opened up today. That makes things a lot easier. There's that jerk brother of mine who kicked me for four weeks straight when I had my back to him.

Day 63: Wow, what a weird day. I was in my pen playing with my sisters when these two humans came and whisked me away. Several of my other siblings had been abducted in the same way.
My captors aren't as bad as I expected. They fed me and gave me water today. This might not be half bad.

Day 65(Monday): My owner took me outside this morning and let me run around for a few minutes. As soon as I went to the bathroom, he scooped me up and threw me in my cage and then they both left for the day. Maybe I'm not supposed to use the lawn for a bathroom. I'll have to try to figure this out.

Day 66: Apparently using the inside floor for a bathroom isn't such a good idea either. This is very confusing.

Day 71: I am fully adjusted to my new home. I have a nice backyard, a big cage to sleep in at night, and two owners who play with me a lot. They must like me. It sounds like they have plans for me tomorrow. What's a bath?

Day 72: My owner tried to drown me today. I am not sure why. There seems to be no logical reason for this abuse.

Day 80: My owners feed me puppy chow every day, 3 times a day; it's not that it's bad, but you should see what they eat. It is absolutely outrage . . . oh look a fly. I can't believe such a small animal would dare get this close to the dreaded hunter. I am a dangerous animal. I am a descendant of the great lions of Africa.

Day 81: I guess I was wrong about that lions thing. Apparently I am descended from Russian circus dogs and bloodhounds. How demoralizing.

Day 93: The weather is getting much warmer now and my owners love to play with me outside. Today, my owners made a big pile of leaves in the front yard for me. I jumped in it and spread it all over the front yard. He chased me and threw a rake at me. He couldn't catch me though, so I kept running through the leaves to make him keep playing with me. That was fun!

Day 105: Today I realized something important; I am now faster than my owner.


Day 111: My owner likes to play this cheesy game where he goes out in the yard and hides; then he calls me and snickers at me while I try to find him. Today he jumped up in a tree in the backyard and called me. I found him pretty quick, but the branches were pretty thick and it took him a while to climb down to a point where he could catch his pants on a branch and fall the rest of the way. I jumped on him to make sure he knew I found him.

Day 115: He tried to drown me again today. Once I put on a few more pounds he will not be able to victimize me so easily . . .

My New Career

I woke up this morning with the window open above my head and the sun shining in, listening to the birds singing their songs. It was so tranquil and serene (the tranquility and serenity were aided by the fact that I have today off).

The rest of the day - not so serene. After breakfast and a lot of procrastination, and then lunch, I started mudding the drywall in the laundry room. Of all the household tasks, this ranks right down there with . . . well I can't think of anything right off. It only took me two hours to do; I would have been done sooner but I had to remove the exterior door in order to get the corner right next to the door.

No, drywalling is not my new career. I'm getting to that.

I am now fully trained to participate in rodeos and am giving serious thought to a career change in that direction. Being a paramedic is great and all, but the rodeo life is obviously for me. My specialty will be the "tie-down roping" event in which the cowboy ropes a calf by its back feet, dismounts in stride, tosses the calf on its side (called flanking- I learned that on the internet today) and ties all of its feet together. Sounds hard, huh? Not for me.

I gave Carina a bath today. Her name means "adorable" in Italian but the last few days she only fulfilled that when viewed from a distance. Once she got into smelling range she needed to be called "puzzolosa" (which means stinky in Italian) . Bathing her has gotten a little more difficult now that she has doubled her weight in the last 4 weeks and now weighs over 40 pounds. The bath itself wasn't the biggest problem though.

Once she got out of the tub and shook all over the bathroom several times, I proceeded to clean out her ears. She didn't like that. This required flipping her feet out from under her and pinning her to the ground while she kicked and wiggled. Apparently bathing a dog and drying them off causes them to "sweat" out some kind of oily lubricant that makes them impossible to hold (I hadn't heard of this biological phenomenon before, but I will have to research it). On top of that, the floor was soaking wet and I felt like I was on a Slip and Slide. The hardest part is that with all those factors, I have to clean her ears gently with the Q-tip, otherwise risking damaging her fragile ear drums. This was on the same difficulty level as painting the Mona Lisa on a live fish.

Well, it is done now. She is clean, her ears are clean and I am ready for the rodeo. No calf could be nearly as wiry as that little puppy. No calf could handle me now.

Sarah and I are going out to Olive Garden tonight so I need to get ready. Y'all northerners click on the weather link on my blog and weep.

Spring!

It is a beautiful Sunday afternoon here in SC. The sun is shining with a slight breeze; it is 81 degrees outside. Without a doubt, spring is here.

I worked yesterday and got off this morning at 8:00. We had a very busy night last night and I didn't get any sleep. As soon as I got home I climbed into bed and fell fast asleep.

My wife went to church and then snuck back into the house without waking me (after last night she probably could have announced her presence with fireworks and I wouldn't have been the wiser). She cooked lunch and set up a wonderful picnic for us in the back yard.

I had a very enjoyable meal of chicken and rice with a broccoli and cheese sauce. The atmosphere was complemented well with the wonderful scent from my neighbor's magnolia tree. Carina provided the entertainment.

Miscommunication

Today I got off work at 6:30 AM and drove down to Fountain Inn in my truck to buy a bagger for my lawn tractor. First of all, my truck is leaking power steering fluid so I have to fill it up every time I stop. Secondly, Fountain Inn is in the opposite direction of home from where I was working last night; way in the opposite direction. Thirdly, the seller misrepresented where he lived. He said he lived in Fountain Inn; apparently he meant that he lived in the same state as Fountain Inn. He told me to call him when I got into Fountain Inn around 8:00 this morning and he would give me directions to his house. I called him at 7:55 and he gave me some simple directions to get to Main Street and then turn left onto a country road. He said "when you get to the church call me again and I will give you more directions." (This is Greenville County, SC, how many churches could there be?) I finally passed the right church and called him back. His update was: "keep driving until you cross a bridge over a river then call again." Why didn't he tell me that the first time? About 20 minutes later, I crossed a bridged and looked down and, sure enough, there was a river down there. I pulled out my phone and redialed him. He answered and I updated him on my location(at this point I was about 10 miles into Laurens County); he then said "Okay up ahead on your right you will see my house with some lawnmowers out in the yard." Apparently he thought that I had stopped while talking to him because as he said that, his house was not up ahead but immediately to the right (as evidenced by the 30+ lawnmowers in various states of disrepair in the yard to my right). Turning in required that I pull a maneuver that I usually reserve for the big white and orange vehicles that I drive (i.e. the ones that I don't own and pay for repairs on). I pulled in and looked at the bagger which he assured me would fit my mower. He also informed me that he only took cash, which I don't carry. I then got more directions from him to the nearest bank and withdrew the money. I returned, paid him, and took the bagger, then started the long journey home.

Turns out, the bagger does not fit my mower. Apparently by "yea, that will fit your mower" he meant "that will fit a mower, somewhere." Not even close. I determined with my amazing Sherlock Holmes-like detective skills that I would need a welder, a torch, and several trips to Home Depot to adapt the bagger to the mower. So I did what MacGyver would have done . . . I advertised it in the classifieds. Oh well, a waste of 3 hours, 10 gallons of gas, and a large amount of money. Now I am just afraid that the evangelist tonight is going to preach on patience. That will be rough.

PS Anyone want a Craftsmen Bagger?

Carina

It is so much fun being a dog owner again. Carina is a joy for us to take care of. She is sweet and intelligent and crazy; she plays hard and then sleeps even harder.


"Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot about puppies."
Gene Hill

House progress

These last few months have been a blur with all that we've been doing. Sarah and I are thankful that God has been so good to us. We have made a lot of progress on the house and have had a blast doing it. This past week we have been doing yard work and getting ready for spring (I think it's already here). The weather has been gorgeous- sunny and in the 60s and 70s- and the flowers have started growing. This weekend we finished our fence. We had several sections missing when we bought the house so that had to be replaced. Now Carina can run free in the back yard and doesn't have to be cooped up in her cage while we're at work.

Sarah and I in Charleston, SC. July 2005

My venture into blogging

I got this idea from my long-time friend Lana Swaffer (we go way back to crazy graveyard shifts at Bob Jones) who has a blog here: http://shadowmedic.blogspot.com/ . I am going to try to start putting pictures on here as well as on snapfish.com since you won't have to log in to visit this page and I can type in detailed descriptions of the pictures.


Well, let's see how well this works.