Kirkland 5K and Half-Marathon

Very late we decided to join the "race" down at Juanita Beach. Since I wanted to bring Phoebe (dog) the 5K was the most suitable distance and she did really well, even at the start where it was crowded and tons of people with dogs (she can get a tad nervous when there's too much action/crowds).

Just upon entering 98th Avenue I stumbled - badly - fell flat on my stomach, and ripped open my left little finger as well as scraped my right hand and the watch band. But, this caused a small delay and the reward was the priceless showing of an "aerial fight" between a Bald Eagle and a Heron, just over our heads as we ran down Juanita Park Bridge. Had I not fallen, I would have been far past this spot and missed it all.

Truly amazing and yet another reason we we love this place!

Finished in a decent time, pulling dog the last mile, and realized that my finger had been bleeding all the time. My racing bib was nicely blood stained!

All in all, a good Sunday in Kirkland!

FoZter a Dog?

Wife thought it'd be a good idea to foster a German Shepherd pup for a few days. One of her colleagues at the hospital is very active in the Northwest German Shepherd Rescue, a great organization that rescues and cares for GSDs that people - for whatever strange reason - do not care for.

Met the wonderful and beautiful pups "Hans" and "Hummel" last night at Amy's house. It is hard NOT to take these guys in, but it is also easy to forget what it takes to take on another dog, especially a roudy puppy.

We in any case decided to have these two guys meet Phoebe tonight up at the AG Bell schoolyard. Hummel was a lot of fun, and followed me around allover, almost tehtered to me, just as if I was his dad. Phoebe did not really care much for him, wanted to play a little bit, but mainly just did not care. Decided to take Hummel to our house home and have him meet Phoebe on her "home turf". In my view it went OK, even though she once sort of told Hummel, "hey, this is my spot, back off", but wife was a tad pessimistic and also sad, since she decided that Phoebe can not be trusted with other dogs in the house. I think it was more of a case that "Hummel" was a tad too old (about 5 months) and large, and no longer just a small "pup", just behaving like one. A younger dog would probably have worked great.

All that said, one could see in Phoebe's face that she really questioned WHY we would take in another dog when we have HER! "I am not good enough?". Once Hummel was gone, she returned to her favorite postion as the biggest couch potato around... Peace in the house.

ThiZ waZ juZt to good to leave out...

I did not write this myself, but almost wish I had. It is good...
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/saturdayspin/369510_sorbo05.html

The following is reprinted from Seattle P-I on July 5th, 2008.


No surprise when animals attack hunters
CATHY SORBO

It had to happen sooner or later.

We were due for another "marauding bear" killing and this time the poor furry fellow happened to be on a food run in a neighborhood near Key Center, about a 60-mile crow flight from Olympic National Park.

The bear had been seen around the neighborhood for a few days and finally tried to enter a house, mistaking it for a large trash bin.

On a KIROTV.com video, a Key Center resident said, "Wow. I'm kind of surprised. I didn't think bears bothered anybody out here."

This is another story of one rogue bear who was simply trying to survive -- one bear who when confronted reared up, an act interpreted as "aggressive" giving authorities adequate reason to shoot to kill.

I'll bet the Krispy Kreme people are super-miffed that they didn't get any free press from supplying bait for a trap.

Surely we humans should be able to figure out how to navigate around our inevitable encounters with wildlife in a way that doesn't end with firing 16 bullets into a living creature.

Why not implement a neighborhood bear alarm, similar to the concept of a tsunami or lahar warning? Well, not to worry. Bear-hunting season starts in August, so that should make all the bear killers happy.

Speaking of happiness, there are many things that make me happy: visits from out-of-town friends, unsolicited hugs from my daughter, Kozy Shack Chocolate Pudding. But one thing stands out from all those warm and fuzzies, and that's when hunters are attacked by the animals they hunt.

In fact, a lot of people don't know this, but the TV show "When Animals Attack" was originally titled, "When Animals Attack It Makes Me Giggle."

Call me callous and hard-hearted, but I can't help but cheer on the animal that defends its life against the human dressed up in clothes that resemble shrubbery armed with the high-powered rifle, night-vision scope, GPS unit, tree-stand, animal scents and alcohol-fueled macho bravado.

Recent headlines that have given me great pleasure include:

"Hunter injured by rhino," "Mountain lion pounces on local hunter" and "Swedish hunter attacked by elk."

What compounds the wrongness of killing animals is the notion that sneaking up on a wild animal and putting a bullet through its head is a sport.

If anything qualifies as a nonsport, it is the carefree killing (or injuring and abandonment) of the lovely wild species that peacefully roam our forests and mountains. I don't care if you eat what you kill, in my opinion there is absolutely nothing at all sportsmanlike to this pastime.

In Washington, there has been a dreadful incline in cougar slaughter. The reason lies within the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife's greed and lack of foresight while attempting to placate hunters.

This passage can be found in an April '08 article on the Web site of High Country News:

"The spike in cougar deaths resulted in part from a radical change in the state's game-management plan. After the hound-hunting ban passed, Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife officials quickly liberalized hunting regulations in order to control the cougar population and maintain the revenue from cougar licenses.

"They extended the hunting season by six months, doubled the legal bag limit, and rolled half-price cougar tags (traditionally sold to just 1,000 hunters a year) into big-game hunting packages."

And you know how hunters are. Once they get the big green light to overhunt, they are eager and more than willing to do so. Hey, bring the kids! Junior's old enough for his first kill.

Hunting is not a sport. It is simple-minded blood lust that cheapens life and creates a revenue stream for a chosen few.

Cathy Sorbo is a Seattle-based comedian; cathysorbo.com.

OK, sure what Cathy Sorbo writes is controversial, but why is always the animal that has to be on the short end of the stick. If you hunt, you go to war with the animal. It is after all over "life and death".

Tough day just paZZed...

Today was a tough day. Wife had to put her beloved Yorkie, Herbie, down due to an aggressive mast-cell tumor. The little guy literally had a huge cancer tumor on his penis, at not even 7 years old.

Surgery would have been an option but due to the very aggressive nature of mast -cell tumors, and the fact that he had his entire intestinal tract scarred, there were really no guarantees that an exhaustive procedure would yield the desired results.

In order not to risk him suffering and dying due to blockage in the urinary tract, wife made the very, very, tough decision yesterday to call the vet.

So today Dr. Hanna Ekstrom (actually a Swedish vet in Seattle) came home to us in the afternoon with her assistant Jennifer (and a red tool box). Over the next hour, they very, very peacefully laid Herbie to rest.

It was a tough day for Beth, but deep inside she knows she made the right decision, the right decision for little Herbie. A day like this little does it help to know that you just finished years of hard studies and ready to enter the next phase in life - when you have to "pull life support" on your best friend.

Goodbye - White Kiddie!

Today was a sad day. We had to put White Kiddie to sleep. He was just too sick and frail after having lost over 60% of his body weight since October. Over the weekend he started having severe problems controlling his "bodily fluids", and was simply miserable, hardly being able to walk. Neither bloodwork, nor urine samples did really give any hints of what it could be.

Actually surpised over my reaction, but the tears were gushing out of my eyes when his little body was handed over to me at the vet clinic. Never thought that I would take his "passing" that hard. Made even worse since he had his eyes left open.

But, he left us on a beautiful and sunny morning, where there were over 4 inches of fresh white snow on the ground. It was sort of almost like the weather gods wanted to paint the landscape in his honor.









Eulogy over a Great Cat:
An early fall day in October 1993, in Dallas, a big white cat showed up at my door. He sort of picked me out, and decided to make friends. For the next year, he was living around and outside my apartment, "guarding" the courtyard, and keeping neighbors entertained. We all cared for him, but he likely spent most of his time with me, always extremely "appreciative" for having somewhere to call "home". I gave him the name "White Kiddie" since it was fitting - he was entirely white and I have never really liked the word "kitty".

I was traveling so much so I had decided not "take in" a cat or any other pet, but a cold day in early December 1994 I broke down; "You've been hanging around here so why don't you just move in - permanently". And he did. For the first week I held out on putting a litterbox in my apartment, until I one morning woke up to a smell and a small turd behind a couch. That was the only accident in Dallas, but he starting having more later in life.

One memorable afternoon, I opened up the front door. On my little rug was a very dead mouse with its stomach ripped wide open. Perfectly aligned were 5 small mouse fetuses, and next to it was a very proud cat sitting. I guess that was his small housewarming gift to me. It was sort of hard not to accept the wonderful gesture!

White Kiddie always went out in the morning with me, and was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when I came home, or sometimes meeting me by the car. A couple of neighbors cared for him when I was out traveling, and he was just a staple of the apartment complex (or at least our courtyard since I never told the complex I had a pet, and had no intentions in having them find out either - succeeded with that during my 5 years at the same place).

This even after my weird neighbors downstairs one day sent me an e-mail, telling me that "the cat" had bitten the wife (Rachel). White Kiddie ended up in the slammer, and I sort of hal-heartedly told the neighbor that if they did not mind, I'd like the cat to come back to the neighborhood (this was before he had moved in). He had to spend a couple of days in the slammer, before he could be picked up, but they would not keep him for more than 10. I was out of town and missed the 10 day limit, but when I came homw, White Kiddie was waiting at the steps. Only thing I can imagine is that my neighbors felt bad and picked up the cat. They never told me and I never asked them, Everyone was happy so why stir the pot?

Summers in Texas can be hot, but that did not really bother me. I was among my friends who held out the longest before turning on the A/C (preferred to have the windows open and let the natural breeze cool me), but one summer it was actually White Kiddie who sort of forced me to turn the switch. He came in from the outside and sort of just fell to the floor, forming a long white ribbing on the carpet. That was his way of saying he was TOO hot and that it was time for me to turn the A/C to "on".

White Kiddie was a trooper and he lived a good life. No, he lived an excellent life!
He only had two vet visits in Dallas, and that was due to an attack by another cat. The fact that the vet cut his claws, made him vulnerable and he was attacked once again, ending up for three days at the hospital. All in a period of two months.

One day I found out that he actually followed "commands", and this was not something I had taught him. I could ask him to sit, and he would sit. I could place food in front of him, and ask him to wait (he did), sitting there until I gave the word "Varsågod" (please go ahead) and he'd walk over to the food and eat - lots of it. Maybe bad for him, but he loved Friskies. Tried a lot of other stuff, but dry catfood, Friskies, was his favorite.

One weak moment in the spring of 1998 when I was considering moving back to Europe and leaving the U.S. for for good, I was looking for potential homes for him (those days it was almost impossible to bring an animal in to Sweden). Initially I decided to take a long vacation (5 weeks skiing) and at the very last moment, one of my great neighbors (Dee Bernhardt) took him home to care for him until I came back - a wonderful gesture!

Later that spring, we took a weekend trip together to Ardmore, OK, to visit yet one older former neighbor that had looked after him when I was traveling. White Kiddie did OK on car rides, but really did not like it and found the best spot in the car to be down under the brake pedal.

I ended up staying in the U.S., and the Friday in October we were to relocate from Dallas to Seattle, White Kiddie decided to "disappear" for a while. I had to reschedule the flight three times that day, and it was not until Dee called me and said that he had walked over to her place and was happily sleeping on the couch, that we could "move on" and get on the last flight out of Dallas. Texas was now history for us.

Finding a new place in Seattle, in the midst of the dot.com boom in 1998 was not easy. It was not made easier by my own firm requirements: cat friendly inside, cat should be able to be outside as well (White Kiddie went nuts if he was forced to stay inside), and I should be able to bring my frontloading Swedish washing machine.
I did drive several hundred miles on the Eastside, and looked at an unimaginable number of places, but it was not until by pure chance (isn't it always) I found a couple in Bellevue that were looking to rent out their condo. They were OK with a cat, and the place boardered a greenbelt. Perfect. We had find a new permanent home!

White Kiddie settled quickly in his new surroundings, even though a few evenings I thought he was gone when he never showed up until way past his "bed time". I thought my move to Washington would mean less travel, but instead I was on the road more than ever, and was again lucky to find a lady neighbor that could "babysit" when I was out of town.

In spring of 2000, the family got extended and White Kiddie was joined by Beth and her two yorkies, Pebbles and Sebastian. Wasn't that many days until they sort had settled and knew their ranks. White Kiddie as "the Governor" was leading the household.

Later in 2000, White Kiddie moved into the "Governor's Mansion" in north Kirkland. He liked it and found himself quickly at home, but at the same time I really think he always missed the hot days in Texas (even though he sometimes was miserable in the heat). He got an unexpected buddy in a grey Persian, Oscar, that Beth brought in as Christmas present our first Christmas together.

As cuddly as White Kiddie was, as much one had to "watch out" when he came around. He was "snow white" and he was shedding, all the time. If you were standing next to him in black pants, he just loved to walk up and surround your legs, effectively forcing a change of pants. No wonder I really never had any black pants until Beth forced me to buy a pair once - they just did not work - and in Texas there were shorts more or less all the time in the evenings home so it was never an issue.

White Kiddie met my parents a number of times and eternal cat lovers as they are, they quickly bonded. Everytime they visited, White Kiddie was sleeping either besides them, or on top of them. Last time was in fall 2007 when my dad was here for a number of weeks. There was not one night when he did not have at least two cats in bed (a black one and an white one - yin & yang).

As he got older, White Kiddie was drawn to heat sources. When the furnace started, he was sititng in front of the heat register in either the kitchen or the office. When I started preparing for a fire in the fireplace, he quickly moved into position to sit guard in front of the wood stove. A few weeks ago, Beth bought him an electrical heat pad he could snooze on. He seemed to like it, even though the pad never got as hot as we'd expected.

More is to be added over this lost friend and I have just added a little slide show here below. I also have "older" photos that need to be scanned (pre digital) when time is found. After all I owe it to him. White Kiddie spent more than 15 years at my side. 15 years that certainly changed my life dramatically (move, marriage, house, dogs, travels, etc, etc).

Stay put!

Camping with dogZ

After wedding, we spent one night up along XXX river, camping with the dogs. Of course this was not the typical bone dry weather one normally see up around Winthrop in the summer, but rather a sprinkly weekend - leading to wet and dirty dogs.
All that said, it all worked just fine. The guys kept their guard up and protected the camp from those pesky tree hopping animals (squirrels) that were trying to attack us all the time. If they just could leave the yellowjackets alone though...

Got to use an old Coleman lantern I picked up at a thrift store during our "scavanger hunt". With a little bit of cleaning and a new wick, it even ran with the fuel that was left in it. A beacon in the dark night! Strange though since during camping in Scandinavia, you rarely ever need any (additional) light - all thanks to the very bright summer nights (even in late August).

Inside the tent, most of the complaints actually came from the wife who either was too cold (initially) or (later) too hot. Add to that the claim that the matress did not provide enough comfort. But the headlamp worked great!

I woke up a few times listening to the rain and searching after wet puddles inside. But, there were none. Even this crappy, poorly designed, poorly manufactured tent managed to keep us dry. I am so much looking forward to buying a true "Scandinavian designed" tent where the rainfly is an integral part of the tent, and not just a piece of nylon cloth one tosses over to keep the rain out.

After packing up, but before getting back into the the car for a slwo drive towards Seattle, we had to take Herbie up to a campground and rinse him off. He was so dirty he simply was not allowed in the car. For a small dog, he can collect an amazing amount of sand in his fur (sorry, hair), and it always manage to end up in the wrong spots. But, we found a little stretch of pavement where he could dry off walking back to the car. All good!

Back home, they slept and slept, and slept. Don't think I've seen such a bunch of tired dogs in a long time. and this even after (in their eyes) a rather boring drive home. But I got to check out the power plant along Highway 20 and also the "cities" of Newhalem and Diablo. They are so tidy, looking almost like old officers' quarters from an army installation somewhere, but I guess that the power companies in the early 20th century where run much like the armies of those days.

Znow on Granite Mountain

Decided yesterday to take the dogs hiking up in the snow. Picked the ONLY rainy day - but in retrospect also the perfect day!

Granite Mountain is a good training hike. About 3,600 vertical in just over 4 miles. On a hot summer day, it can be a smelter! Once you exit the forest at about 4,000 feet, you are exposed to the scorching sun. If hiking with dogs, there is a stretch here that has no or little water in the summer - and it is extremely hot. Caution is advised. Your pouch will suffer.

But today we were in lucky. It rained when we left Seattle, it was overcast at the trailhead and only a few cars. The air was lukewarm and full of refreshing humidity. Perfect day for a quick hike up. Shouldn't take more than two hours!

Dogs knew what was coming and happy to get out of the car. As soon as we started, they sped up the trail, but never further than that they always kept an eye on us. Guarding instinct is deeply rooted! A fair amount of water in the small streams along the trail indicated that there should be a fair amount on snow higher up.

Wife got sort of winded after about 40 minutes or so. Started talking about not making it!? I managed to move the pit stop until we were out of the forest and at 4,300 feet. Everyone got fed and watered. Convinced wife that we just had to make it to 5,000 feet before ANY discussions about turning around. The weather was really perfect, both for humans and dogs, but at 4,600 feet, just after the first little snow field (=very happy dogs), the sky opened up. A real squall with no clearing in sight. I trotted on, eager to get as far as possible. When we hit 5,000, it sort of just stopped, and the sun came out. I was soaked, but wife pointed out that "there's the summit" (she been there once before) - a good sign. Since the weather was clearing, and her spirits better, I convinced her to go "all the way". Would also allow for the dogs to get a good run in the larger snow fields on the Northern side of the summit ridge.

We spent about an hour on the summit munching down and lightening our backpacks. Saw a few marmots on the way down, always at a distance. 20 minutes fro mthe car, the sky opened up again and down at the parking lot, both dogs were very eager to both get out of the rain and into a "soft spot" to take a long snooze! All in all, in a slow poke pace it took as about 2h40m to reach the top. All together about 5 hours out in the "wild".

A truly good day in the mountains. Check out some of the pictures here below.

BTW, there was a traffic accident in the West bound lanes at I-90. Accident must have happened just about 30 minutes before we reached the trail head (State Patrol wooshed by us). A tractor trailer with a construction crane seemed to have "sort of" taken aim at a rock wall on the north side of the freeway. That happens...
But, was there really a need to keep the freeway blocked off during this entire time? State Patrol had blocked it down to just one lane before we got there, and that blockage was still in effect when we got off the mountain. Combined, that was much longer than 6 hours, choking the only true East-West route through the mountains.
All for a dinky little accident (it was not even reported on the news - even though we could see a news chopper from the summit).

(and yes, it is rain, heavy rain, you can see in the first image - click on it)

TerrieoriZt

Well, today it happened. Our Yorkshire terrieorist, Herbie, BIT Jan (neighbor) when she walked in to the house, just like she does everyday. She's certainly no stranger that one need to scare away! This little bratty dog managed to bite her up on the thigh, leaving a big blue bruise. Was that as a thanks for taking us out last night on my b-day? BAD DOG!

Terriers have a nasty personality. No wonder they have named Mr. Bush's nemesis, terrorist, after them. Is there a dog that can be as "yappy" as a terrier? Or as aggressive?

A dog that weighs hardly 10 lbs should just accept their position in the pecking order (Phoebe, the cats, and then Herbie) be happy with the food and housing provided. Not make a mess (peeing inside, barking, being overly "tense", etc, etc) and being generally just a nuisance!

An example. In the morning when about to be let out for "doing duty" (what's not already been done overnight in the kitchen...) he can go nuts. I manage to have him be quiet and sit down - orderly - before basement door opens up to the backyard. Wife just lets him "run out", barking his lungs off, waking both me and neighbors in the process.

The BIG (real...) dog, Phoebe, she just sits nicely, waiting for the "command" to let her out. She's happy with that and knows she will get out. No need to get railed up over that. Door will not open any faster just because one is barking - just the opposite!

But, if anyone tries to approach the house, or worse, the front door, unannounced, Phoebe will show who reqally onws this house. No strangers are passing by her! GOOD DOG!

Free at Lazzt

After wife having "run" Phoebe through glass, resulting in 10+ stitches on her (Phoebe's) rear right paw, multiple headaches for me, a dog needed to be bedbound, although she only wanted to run, dog has finally gotten rid of bandage, stitches and can now be "her own" again.

All that for a lousy morning's run in the wrong park. Folks, don't do it. It is not worth it! A hurt dog is a really painful excercise (for its owner). Try restraining something that only wants to be happy and mobile!

CatExchangeZ...

About three weeks ago, Oskar, my furry Christmas gift of 2000, did not come home. We have had no signs of him since that Monday evening, and my guess is that he was taken by a coyote. Hope it was quick!

Oskar was an indoor/outdoor cat that always came in for the night. We tried when he was young to keep him strictly indoors, but it would just not work. He went nuts! Oskar enjoyed the time outside and was always sitting along the driveway, waiting when we came home, or hiding under the Japanese Maple, stalking the birds.
Although I know some will disagree, I strongly feel cats have a better life - albeit sometimes shorter - if they can enjoy themselves in the outdoors as well. Sometime it is not the length of life that counts, but how it is lived. Oskar lived a good life!

I was not ready for a new cat, any new animal, but today; a day after coming home from MI, hours after starting Nursing School, wife came home with a "box" containing a big black cat, Louie. I should have suspected something when it took five hours to drive the 10 miles from Bellevue to Kirkland.

I gave wife the silent treatment since I did not approve of how (yet another) animal was introduced to this house!

Louie is good cat though. Although it's only been a few hours, he seem to feel at home and has no problems with the dog, 10 times his size, or the other cats! Only the yorkie tries to make a point and cannot sit still when Louie walks down the hallway. This for sure will be an interesting time!

Back to the vet...

Wife is about to leave tomorrow for visit to brother in MI. Decided we'd better take big dog in for a check-up at a different clinic, since foot does not seem to heal. The laceration is deep, pad almost sliced off, and the flesh looks like "cow's tongue" (a delicatessen in many countries). It is not infected and looks healthy, it is just not healing.

Woodinville Veterinary Hospital is staffed by two very seasoned and skilled veterinarians (plus the fact that they a just plain very nice). We normally see Dr. Frey, but this time Dr. Marsh is there to look at the foot. Judgement is given, as he also manages rightfully so to look very concerend. "If nothing is done, this can take two-three months to heal. Everytime she puts her foot down, the two pieces of the pad moves and get no chance to "re-connect". New stitches highly recommended, but that also mean we have to put her down for a while".

We decide to have new stitches put in and manage to get an appointment for tomorrow.

DangerouZ Park

This morning wife was to go in for a short meeting at work. She decided to bring the dogs since "Andrea" wanted to meet them. Afterwards a drive over to the park was planned.
Just after 7AM, as I lay half-asleep in bed, my final words to the departing "party" are; "Do NOT take the dogs to the park (King County's Edith Moulton Park).

Around noon, still no wife and no dogs. I thought the meeting was just an hour, but I could be mistaken. As I enjoy a cup of coffee in the kitchen, garage door opens up and wife comes up the stairs, GUILT over her face, followed by a small yorkie and much later, a half-drugged dog that does not even acknowledge me. She (dog) just walks, or stumbles, over to her chair and feels asleep. On her right foot is a colorful bandage. I like the pink color, do not object to dogs having colorful bandages, it even looks good, but dogs rarely carry these bandages because of looks (although wife never stops to surprise me on that point).

Turns out the "party of three" went to "the PARK", dog ran off leash, stepped in some glass and almost sliced her pad off her right foot. Wife takes dog to veterinary clinic. Dog is put to sleep, pad is cleaned and stitches (four) are applied. Dogs is given a "wake me up" shot and is at least able to limp.
Later that night we replace bandage and one can see it is a bad laceration. Close she almost lost her entire pad.

BAD Wife!
Why does wife always have to take dogs/cats, or do to dog/cats, things that husbands tells wife is "no good". I have said for years that this park in particular is "no good", even though the animals love to run and rump there. It is dirty (tons of glass) and only really accessible by trespassing through a defunct apartment complex (wife used to live there before being kicked out).

Poor DOG!
This dog, one of the happier and more active dogs around, is now ordered to be still, sleep, and just not walk too much on her foot for the next two weeks. How the h-ll do you keep a large dog from not walking when you take dog out to do its duty? I guess I am to learn more since I'll be home (alone) with big dog for the next week when wife travels to Michigan.

Zaturday

Day turned out much nicer than anticipated. Walked the dog to downtown for a cup of java and a chat. Nice to kill a few hours in the company of good friends and having a dog is always a good reason to actually walk - instead of taking the car. No major distance today, but probably 5-6 miles. On the way home, someone on the leash held me back. She must have been tired.

Sun came out. Lake was flat as a piece of glass. Boat should have been out, but man, it was cold. Have to wait until the "real" Christmas light cruise in a few weeks before thinking more about "being out there". Still have some work to do on the dash, and new wiring for the running lights. All in due time.

Back home, downed a late breakfast of oatmeal, student grub that never goes out of fashion. And, most important; it is pretty good for you as well.

And, when all this was said and done, it was now time to put up those (darn) lights. Went to the basement to pull out the two boxes that were nicely organized last year. Had four strings of "icicle lights" up last year on the highest roof line and it looked good. Guess we'll do the same procedure this year in that area.
Pull each string out of their respective bags, only to find out that several bulbs are out, gone, poof. Darn, why can't anyone making lights that last more than one season? But, on the other hand, they were probably only $2/piece, so one does not really have a legitimate reason to complain. Most would just have tossed them in the garbage, run down to the corner store and buy new sets. Not me, not time for the city dump yet! Replaced the burned bulbs with stuff salvaged from last year's "corpses", and once that was done, up on the roof. Sun's out, but it is freeeeeeezing cold.
Pull out, or rather try to, the strings that I so nicely rolled up and organized last season. Icicle lights look good once they are up, but are they a mess to "get out" and then also hang up nicely? Curse and promise myself that for next year, regular strings, w/o tentacles, will be the way to go. Just not worth it. Still cold up here. Better finish up and get down inside where it's warm and toasty.
Move the ladder to the front, pull an extension cord, and, voila, all lights are working and it does look good! Nothing compared to the effort of our across-the-street-neighbor/friend, but he cheated and had the entire family/army over to help hang his lights. Wonder how far he'd gotten by himself?
Anyway, will continue tomorrow. Still pull some strings around the deck, the trellises, and then also the boat (both because it looks nice, but also because it'll be parked in the street for a while and having lights on it will hopefully deter anyone that otherwise accidentally might run into it.

After coming back from a quick shopping spree over to "Freddie's" (nothing interesting, just staples) had to cross the street to let out/let in, count, and feed the zoo there. Out of town in Florida and it is fun to care for their monsters when they're gone. House looked like a train wreck, torn doggie toys all over, but no turds today. But, are those guys happy to see me! Finally found all four cats. Not sure how the last one got in, because I could have sworn that he was outside - staying there - when I walked in. He literally must have crossed my back. Good though that everyone's inside. They are all listening to "Delilah" tonight - as all the nights. Not my choice, but the master left that on when he left. Maybe it keeps them quiet.

Oh, one last thing. Our hated ISP (because of their high price), Comcast, have finally opened up the pipe and you can now have streaming music - both good selection and good quality (likely 192 kps or better) - flowing out in the house. Needless to say, my favorite channel is the Smooth Jazz channel. Never can go wrong with that. You just get used to it and get happy/good mood when you hear it. Pretty different from the Clash and Sex Pistols that ruled my days back in 1979...

Dinner at home, cleaned up the kitchen. Looked at tired animals at home (+tired wife). Looked through the window. Lights still on, no bulbs out - good. Time to hit the sack!