Thursday, February 5, 2015

Rest in Peace, Elmer


Elmer
How do you say goodbye to someone who has been part of your everyday life for nearly 14 years?
Elmer, our gorgeous, lovable, orange tabby has cancer.
We noticed his weight loss and as it accelerated his blood work showed likely leukemia.
There is no cure and treatment would only prolong his death.
Today we will have to say goodbye.
Thankfully our veterinarians share our philosophy on quality of life and will come to our house this evening to euthanize him.

Elmer joined our family as a tiny, adorable kitten from a rescue organization. As soon as I saw him I knew he was the one. I had never seen a kitten as intensely orange as this tiny tabby.
We adopted him along with a little black and white female we named Fern. They were about 7 weeks old.

Throughout the years, Elmer was always nearby, giving his calm approval or resigned acquiescence to everything from more kittens, to rabbits, and even a St. Bernard. He patiently withstood the kitten antics of Lester, a tiny dark tabby with a nubbin of a tail, who liked to leap on Elmer's back and bite his neck. Most of the time Elmer would just let Lester think he had won, then shrug his shoulders to dislodge the little bugger. I recall one time when Lester's leap was ill-timed. Elmer was about to jump through the cat door just as Lester landed on top of him. Both cats ended up stuck half-in and half-out, like Pooh Bear in Rabbit's doorway.
Elmer and Lester
In his later years, Elmer, who always slept next to me on a pillow expressly placed for his comfort, would drape himself across my head in the middle of the night. I would feel his cold little toe pads against my cheek as he purred himself to sleep, chin again my ear. Often there would be the tiniest puddle of drool left behind.
Elmer would often come downstairs in the early afternoon to let me know it was nap time. He would station himself on a couch armrest, and give me his "judgmental" look. Every time I would get up to go somewhere, he would mraow and try to lead me up the stairs.

Elmer liked his water fresh, and in the past couple of years would pester and pester until one of us would run the slightest trickle of water in the bathtub for him.
Elmer and Fannie

Elmer played a part in the daily lives of my children as well. He didn't like to be held or kissed, but was always ready to snuggle on a lap. He liked to play with toys, but usually only those with long strings. His favorite was the "swirly twirly fishy" - a small stuffed fish on an elastic string attached to a plastic fishing pole. He didn't want the fish, but would go after the string; even without claws he could always grab it. One had to be quick to keep him from biting the string in half.
His love of "twing" was a nuisance. His feline radar would always alert him to crocheting or knitting and he would show up, wait for just the right moment, and grab the yarn. There are few things as uncomfortable as knitting with wet yarn.

Elmer played an active role in our homeschooling adventures as well, becoming a character in whatever historical era we studied. Ancient Egypt? Elmer-ahten. Russian history? Yelmar Myeowstranovich. Norse mythology? Elmer the Red.
We often called him Elmer Pie and my husband dubbed him his "gorgeous orangeness."

Elmer was always dignified, except when catnip was involved. He was what we amusingly called a "mean nipper," as catnip brought out an aggressive side seldom seen otherwise.
As the founder of The Order of the Stripes, Elmer initiated Lester, Floyd, and Henry, though his own stripes remained the stripiest of all.

I worry about Fern when he is gone, as they have been together from the beginning, and Elmer is the only other cat she is comfortable with. He and Fern could usually be found on my bed lying in each others arms, purring. I wish I could explain to her what is happening and why he will no longer be with us.
Elmer and Fern
Cats often seem to choose a specific person to love and Elmer chose my son Zachary. Elmer was there for Zach through some of his worst anxiety and panic attacks, and I can't help but believe he somehow knew Zach needed him the most.
I can't adequately convey how much I will miss this lovely boy. I remind myself that he will be with us always, through photos and memories, and I know from experience that the heartache will slowly ease.
I will always love you my sweet Elmer and have truly been blessed to have you in my life.
Thank you for enriching us all with your sweet nature, calm presence, and gorgeous orangeness.
We will miss you terribly.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

#100HAPPYDAYS - Day 16 - Dryad Revolt

Evergreens bow down under snowy coats
Dryads awaken
bowed under coats of ice
 demanding redress


Tuesday, February 3, 2015

#100HAPPYDAYS - Day 15 Warmth

New fireplace insert
Seven years ago we decided to add an insert to our then non-functioning fireplace.
I insisted, over my husband's objections, that we get a wood-burning insert. I love the smell of a wood fire, the atmosphere it creates, even the popping and crackling of burning wood.
We liked out wood burning insert, though it never really looked quite right. We have a super small firebox, built for burning coal, and it was difficult to find an insert that would fit.
We did and it was great - we could warm up the downstairs and keep the thermostat set low - usually no higher than 65 degrees during the day.
But.
And this is a big but.
A wood burning insert is a pain.
Being city folk, we had to buy our wood already cut and dried. The cost of a load had gone up to $300 for a cord (that didn't ever quite measure true). So I started checking Craigslist for free wood ads and my husband would take the seats out of the mini van and load her up.
We got some good wood that way, but usually it wasn't the best for burning and it still needed to be cut and stacked to dry.
Hauling wood in daily was a hassle, too. It was hard for everyone in the family with EDS to carry a load, which left only my husband and occasionally my oldest son, who could carry in wood without injury.
Then there was the ash scooping and disposal, the inevitable bits of wood and bark and ash that found their way to the floor and carpet, and the noise. The fan rattled no matter what we did and was so loud that it could make conversation and TV watching difficult.
We had to have the chimney cleaned twice yearly at about $200 a pop as well.
I finally cried "uncle" and admitted my mistake.
I've been focusing on simplifying our lives and the wood insert was just too much added work, mostly for my husband, who works long weeks and travels constantly. He needed a break and we needed to switch to gas.
The insert we have now is gorgeous and looks like it was made for this house.
No more messing with matches and fire starters; simply press a button on the remote.
I am so glad we were able to make the switch.
Today, my new fireplace makes me really happy!

Monday, February 2, 2015

#100HAPPYDAYS - Day 14 Snow dogs

Bertha Mae and Gus
These two hooligans are a study in contrasts.
While Bertie is an out-hound, forever needing to patrol the perimeter of her territory, checking for invaders, chasing errant squirrels and killing baby bunnies, Gus is an in-hound who, except for sunning himself on the porch steps in the summer, would just as soon stay inside curled up on the couch, preferably under a blanket or on a lap, thank you very much.
But with yesterday's snow they missed their usual 2-mile morning walk and needed to go outside and get the stink blown off.
You know, as an expression "go outside and get the stink blown off" really doesn't seem to be rooted in any sort of practical wisdom. If you stink when you're inside, you're still going to stink outside, though the aroma might disperse somewhat, rendering your smell somewhat less stinky to those in close proximity.
And as far as dogs go, being outside generally tends to increase the stink.
But I digress.
It's always much more fun to go outside if one of your people goes with you, and that's what happened yesterday when they had their little romp in the snow.

Everything started out nice and sedate...

 

But then somebody said something or touched somebody in just the wrong way...


And the Basset 500 Blizzard Edition 2015 was on.


The snow is deep! Especially when your tummy is so close to the ground.



Bertie gets some great ear action going.


Neck and neck...


But a burst of speed puts Bertie out in front...


Oh no!

Wipeout!


Snowplow...


Blinded by the ear!


But the bullet takes a shortcut...

And... hey, Mom, it's snowing again. Can we go inside now?

Sunday, February 1, 2015

#100HAPPYDAYS - Day 13 - Reprieve

Snow Day
I've been really busy lately.
Busy for me is not "busy" for a typical person.
I'm still a stay-at-home unschooling mom, though after this spring I'm going to have to give myself a different, more accurate job description.
Maybe cat-herder or basset wrangler... or (gasp) homemaker.

Anyway, my "busy" involved volunteering, driving my daughter to and from her various classes at three different locations (high school, urban campus and ankeny campus of community college), attending a lecture at Iowa State, viewing an art show, plus all the regular cooking, etc.

The amount of activation energy required to do all this sometimes seems unattainable, thanks to my Ehlers Danlos with co-morbid fibromyalgia.
I love that word co-morbid, it adds a note of gravitas to any diagnosis, don't you think?

Anyway, I've been able to keep going, enjoying what I've been doing, and managing enough down-time to regroup for the next day's assault.
So far.
Oh, but I was kind of dreading today.
I had activities scheduled for the morning and again in the evening and knew it would be frustratingly difficult to find the oomph to push myself through.
And then came the snow.
Yes, we got 10-12 glorious inches of city-stopping, activity canceling snow!

What a relief to know that today I could just hibernate under my quilt with books, cats, and knitting, and save up enough energy for tomorrow.


Saturday, January 31, 2015

#100HAPPYDAYS - Day 12 - Pancakes

Pumpkin pancakes with homemade blueberry syrup
Last night while talking about what we both had on tap for today, I casually mentioned to my wonderful husband that it would be nice to have pumpkin pancakes for breakfast.
He had a busy day planned, including a 30-minute drive to help and learn at a small local brewery.
Imagine my delight when I awakened to smell not only freshly brewed coffee - my salvation! - but the enticing aroma of pumpkin pancakes.
Oh, and these pancakes are so delectable.
They are whole grain pancakes with a hefty dose of our own homegrown and processed butternut squash. Over the years I have found butternut squash to be much more flavorful than small pie pumpkins and use butternut in all recipes calling for pumpkin.
But then there's the homemade blueberry syrup!
I canned it last summer from blueberries we had frozen the year before, and it is so darn good! Just perfect on these pancakes.
My husband had to dash out the door for his brew-ha-ha before I was awake enough to converse, let alone eat. After my usual 2-3 cups of java, however, I thoroughly enjoyed the pancakes he so lovingly prepared - and even left in a warm oven.
Thank you, honey.
My day surely started out on a happy note!

Friday, January 30, 2015

#100HAPPYDAYS - Day 11 / Fiber

About to cast on project #3,259




Nothing makes me happier than starting a new project.
Well, maybe ordering supplies for a new project.
Or a big box of yarn in mail...

It's hard to describe a fiber addiction to those who don't share the love.
My husband, for example, likes to ask me what I plan to make when I show him my latest fiber acquisition, failing to understand that while the right project may come along, the yarn itself has spoken and must be had.

I'm kind of like a yarn collector, purchasing glorious handmade yarns and sumptuous llama/alpaca/wool/mohair combinations simply for their beauty. Does a fine art collector have to justify her latest Van Gogh or Rodin? A wine enthusiast his latest Bordeaux? I think not.

My yarn collection, fondly referred to as a "stash" in professional terms, now occupies several vintage cupboards purchased specifically to house it. Each skein is lovingly crammed placed on worn wooden shelves, carefully protected with lavender sachets.

Sometimes I open the cupboard doors and feel giddy just looking at all that wooly loveliness.
My official hobby may be knitting or even "fiber arts" if I want to sound hoity toity.
But my real passion is for the yarn.
Just call me a connoisseur.