The Caribbean post Hurricanes

The past July we decided to shake up our normal holiday routine of gathering in Austin and planned a Caribbean cruise for all of us.  Of course, the plan was prior to the two Cat 5 hurricanes which roared through the Caribbean and flattened all three of our destination islands:  Grand Turk, Puerto Rico and St. Thomas.  Having paid our money, we had little choice but to trust the cruise line not to drop us off in a place which shouldn't be entertaining visitors.

The reality turned out to be the residents of all these three islands were pathetically grateful to see us tourists in their midst.  Tourism is the economic mainstay of the Caribbean.  It was obvious the priority for clean up and restoration has been concentrated in the places which are 'attractions' for the tourists.  Old San Juan (the oldest part of Puerto Rico) and the spot when the cruise ships anchor, seemed completely unaffected.  That is, until you started talking to people.  I didn't talk to a single local who hadn't sustained some type of damage to their home or business, and you know me - I talked to everybody!

Grand Turk, famous only for its snorkeling and beaches, is very tiny.  It's only seven miles in length and a couple of miles in width.  We rented a car, and it allowed us to tour the entire island since I wanted to see the lighthouse, the museum, and a couple of churches.  It was here we really saw the depth of the damage even months later.  The lighthouse still looked pretty

battered.  The museum was closed for water damage, and the churches were tightly shut. 
Every roof was either new, partially new, or still tarped in blue plastic.  Windows were missing.  There was still a lot of water damage from storm surge.  There were no street signs as well as missing or weirdly tilted stop signs.   I learned most of the island had been without power for about three months, so that restoration has accelerated the repairs.   Almost every electrical pole was brand new.  The local 'home depot' was absolutely roaring with business.  There was a traffic jam of cars and trucks around it.  The constant refrain of the island was power tools.

As an aside, the other thing which makes Grand Turk 'famous' is this is the area where John Glenn's Mercury capsule splashed down in 1962 after he circled the earth three times.  The capsule is an actual display in a small park.  Right before we left, we watched the movie "The Right Stuff" in which the seven astronauts argued with the tech staff for a 'window' to be part of the capsule design.  Here's the infamous window.

Of the three islands, San Juan, Puerto Rico, was my favorite stop.  The tourist part of the town is utterly charming. The old part of the city is built around a series of plazas, and is encircled with a twenty foot thick wall which dates back to the 17th century.

San Felipe del Morro, a defensive fort also originally built in the 17th century, was destroyed by the 1789 hurricane and rebuilt.  Cat 5 hurricanes are well known in this part of the world.  El Morro is now part of the United States National Park system, and it's massive and impressive.

Here's 'El Morro' as we are coming into the San Juan Harbor

Speaking of Ponce de Leon, the famous Spanish conquistador, is supposedly buried at the San Juan Cathedral.  This is a massive Catholic church constructed in the style of the great cathedrals of Europe, but instead of marble and stone, it's constructed of adobe and wood.  An advantage of seeing this church in December was it was beautifully decorated for Christmas.

To me, the 'wall' was the most fascinating part of San Juan.  I can't imagine the labor it took (mostly slave, I'm sure), to built it.  It's twenty feet thick throughout while the height varies depending on location.  There were originally multiple gates cut into the wall, of which, only one survives.  That gate is called 'The Red Gate'  Here's Drake doing his job as 'perspective'.  Using him as a measure, it's easy to see the massive structure.

Perhaps the most obvious  damage in the tourist areas from the hurricanes was on St. Thomas.  We took an open air touring vehicle up to the top of the island to take in the overlook view.  Most of the 'resorts' including a massive Marriott resort are still not open.  The Marriott property sits right on a promontory overlooking the beach.  It was battered. 

Normally, we could have taken the gondola to the mountain top, but the snapped cables were still not repaired.  When we arrived on top of the island, we were rewarded with this stunning view.  We also saw this:

Here's the hurricanes' handiwork:  a rolled up cell tower.  Its replacement is just behind it.  Our driver lost his entire home.  He spent eight hours holding a door in place to save the lives of himself and his family.  He was sporting a cast on one arm, not because he broke it, but because he strained the ligaments in his hand, thumb, and lower arm.  Fortunately, he had insurance on his vehicle and his home.  Want to live on St. Thomas?  The taxes are low, but the cost of real estate is high (limited landmass).  The cost of home insurance is sky high.  According to the driver, his home insurance runs about $15,000 a year.  Worth every penny to him now since it will fund his re-built.  It was brutally apparent as always in these natural disasters the poorest people who live precariously are the hardest hit.   

St. Thomas didn't even receive the brunt of the hurricanes in the US Virgin Islands.  That honor was reserved for St. John, its sister island, which contains a massive national park.  All the parks, both on Puerto Rico and on St. John are taking a back seat to the repairs for people and their personal property as well as infrastructure.  El Junque in Puerto Rico, the only topical rainforest in United States,  and the Virgin Islands National Park were severely damaged.  The carefully built trails  really suffered, and they are almost all still closed.  We didn't even try to get to either one.  

Our Holland America ship was brand new.  It was exquisitely decorated for Christmas.  I couldn't have taken pictures of all of the decorations since they were so numerous.  The one which really caught my eye was the gingerbread houses/villages scattered throughout the main areas.  Here's a sample of those.

We did have a wonderful time.  The scenery was beautiful.  It is always so breathtaking, you understand why people brave the inevitable hurricanes.

As always, if you want to see the rest of my photographs, click on the link:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/UuWdVi8sZRyLJpNx2

Stepping Out

I love to read magazines.  With our six months travel lifestyle, I don't subscribe to magazines; I read OLD magazines.  Sometimes they're a few months old; sometimes they're years old.  Incessant reading has taught me how hard it is to be original.  Articles in magazines women favor are like teacher meetings.  There's not much new under the sun. 

I took up learning how to embroider to have something to do while people, who were tired of children, had moved 'up' in the school system and gave teacher in-service days' lectures on teaching/discipline techniques.  What a yawn.  After the first two years of this annual torture, they didn't have anything new or original to say.  Embroidery helped keep me AWAKE.  (My principal quickly learned to prefer this activity to me being 'creative' during these meetings.)

I have been thinking about trying new things lately.  What a process!  Deciding to try something new is like fighting all the demons inside yourself.  Looking back, embroidery didn't start as a way to relieve the tedium of teacher meetings - that was a byproduct.  It started because I admired someone else's needlework.  She encouraged me to try it.  Her encouragement freed me to buy an embroidery kit which used only one type of stitch.  I goodwilled those pillow cases just last year!  I was hooked.  Then came YEARS of filling in pictures with thread;  it was like paint by numbers.  (People admire my satin stitches; it's because of all that practice.)  It took me years to step out and start creating my own designs. 

Getting my foot screwed up with a bad surgery and a dissolving joint was an impetus for creation.  There were months spent being only able to walk 50 feet in a day.  Creating saved me.  What a struggle those two years were:  Lost the job I loved; the school I loved closed, and I lost the ability to walk.  The anger almost devoured me.  Creativity seemed EASY, after all that.  It was still a couple of more years before I could admit I was an artist.  Stepping out of your comfort zone is not for the faint of heart.

Sometimes we think creativity is only one thing.  "I'm not creative; I can't draw."  "I can't sew."  "I can't craft."  "I can't write."  "I have no sense of style."  See the common thread?  You always limit yourself with 'I can't'.

Creativity is all about enjoyment.  I just created the most hideous embroidery piece because I don't know how to draw much less draw to scale.  San Diego was on the ocean, and I love gulls.  That was the basis for the idea of the piece.  I knew the birds were wrong, but this piece just kept getting more and more fun to make.  Here's the result.  You be the
judge.  My 2 year old great-nephew is getting this as a pillow for his room.  I'm pretty sure he won't care about the scale/perspective problem of the flying gulls.

Sometimes for me creativity is about challenge.  It's very hard to stretch yourself.  Life here in the dollhouse in Sun City bores me.  It's very easy to do the very same thing day after day, month after month.  This year I'm challenging myself to step out in  Sun City in the ways I embrace when we travel.  Here's my first challenge of the new year:  I'm taking a real college class at the local community college.  Is it Yale?  Well, no, but it's a class I've wanted to take for over 40 years, so I'm pretty sure it's going to be fun.

I'm taking Art History:  Renaissance to Contemporary Art.  There are so many gaps in my knowledge for someone who worships museums.  I'm also a little curious to count how many pieces of art the professor will show via power point (I almost said 'slides') which I've actually seen in person.  I will also be around YOUNG PEOPLE, and hopefully making some new friends.  I can hardly wait! 

Sometimes when you 'step out' you get an unlooked for reward.  After eight years in New Orleans, I still call that the lagniappe.The class is only costing me $149 (that includes the tuition and fees).  Good grief - it's practically free!  I got the senior rate for tuition. The book costs almost as much as the tuition, and I even bought it used on Ebay. 

This winter and spring, I'm hoping to write blog adventures in the same vein I write during the travel months.  Hope you're ready, and hope I am too. 

Oh, Boy, It's the Holidays!

The holidays are upon us!  All young women I know are saying, NO, NO, NOT YET.  One of the smooth spots of being post 65 w/o grandchildren is there are almost no presents to buy, and I can shove off all the cooking on the younger generation.  Sweeeeeeeet!  (This year I'm going to have to do SOMETHING cooking wise for Thanksgiving, but I consider that to be an easy meal.  I'm even contemplating making a pie.)

Looking back twenty years, I marvel at how many plates I was constantly twirling on the end of slender sticks.  Now, that I only have about three plates twirling, oh, hey, let's be real - all my plates are lying securely on a waist high table, I can handle them with ease.  So, another holiday season starts.

Here's a list of fun stuff to remember to do because each holiday may be your last one.  (Service Announcement from 'The Grim Reaper') 

1)  If you don't feel like cooking the big, traditional holiday dinner, DON'T.  (Imagine the hours you'd recover, and your loved ones could stop holding their collectively breaths since you're always in such a bad mood at the end of the big day when you've exhausted yourself shopping, preparing and cooking.)  Yes, I know the idea can seem like heresy, but try it for one of the big holiday meals for just ONE year.  Make a crockpot meal.  Lay out a big sandwich tray.  If you can't shed both meals (Thanksgiving, Christmas), then at least try shaking up one of them.  Finally, if you get the, "Mom, if you don't cook, it won't be the same line, then offer to supervise rather than cook.  Stick to your guns.)

2)  Give presents all year long.  Give trinkets at Christmas.  I like calendars, cool greeting cards, books, puzzles, or games.  Here's the way I look at it:  The less money you spend at Christmas on 'presents' means the more money you can spend on charitable giving.  So many reputable charities count on holiday giving - be a giver of important stuff. 

3)  Remember someone who has lost a love one in the past year.  Acknowledgment of the loss at the first holiday season can be so appreciated.  (Yes, yes, yes, I know, you don't know what to say, etc., etc., etc.  So, buy a freakin' 'thinking of you' card, sign it and mail it.  Any idiot can do that.)

4)  Create a new tradition.  (New stuff doesn't always 'stick', but keep trying . Something will catch hold.  At the very least, it will keep the holiday family time from being so predictable.)

5)  Enjoy Thanksgiving more.  It disturbs me that Thanksgiving is being slowly eliminated by commercial greed.  This is a holiday about the really, really important stuff without the minefields of religion or the expectation of buying, buying, buying.  Don't go shopping on turkey day.  The stores are open long enough.  Nobody needs to start Christmas shopping on Thanksgiving Day.  Remember:  All the ads you are going to be flooded with are designed to psychologically snare you.   

6)  Get an Advent Calendar.  I send a whole bunch of Jacquie Lawson calendars out every year, and I guarantee the adults who receive them enjoy them just as much as the kids.  (For the clueless:  Advent is a season in the Christian church that corresponds to the Christmas season.  However, secular Advent Calendars are all about opening up something fun each day from December 1st to December 25th.  There are paper versions where you pry up a paper window to reveal a new picture, or felt versions with pockets for each day, or electronic versions.  They are all really fun.)

7)  Rethink Christmas cards.  Who do you really, really want to send a greeting to?  Just do those people.  It doesn't have to be hard.  Electronic works!  I'm a big fan of electronic cards because you don't have to particularly plan ahead.  You can batch mail for the cost of a few electrons.  That said,  I do love the spirit of snail mail Christmas cards, and I send out way, way, way too many.  However, it's not a contest.  You don't get a brownie badge for sending out 100 or more cards.  (And, yes, at one time, I actually did that.)  What I have discovered is it's so heartwarming to have cards as decorations around your house - especially if you travel away at Christmas.

8)  Nobody likes fruitcake or the fruit of the month club.  Enough said.

9)  Get your Christmas music in your car and play it from the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas.  Your mood will improve.  I look forward to it every year.  Of course, I'm a Christmas carol nut - although, I must say, the Great Christmas Carol Quiz blog was super popular last year.  If you have small children,  car Christmas carols are a great way to introduce cultural icons. (Right, Sarah?)

10) Finally, in midst of all the hubbub of home, office, friends, and obligations,  spend two minutes each day of the 'season' being mindfully grateful for all your many blessings.       

Round Five....Good News

Since I don't think it's fair to hold people in suspense.......  The news from Round Five is GOOD.  Well, not GOOD exactly, but recovery  is finally beginning to make sense.  Pain levels have dropped once more - unless I do something stupid like trying to go more than one place during a day.

First, this is sort of a public service announcement.  If you don't know it, all antibiotics are not these easily taken, clears up the ______________ in a week kind.  Since I google everything I take prior to taking it, I was more than alarmed to discover the two antibiotics the post operative PA prescribed can actually be quite dangerous if not taken properly.  One of them is a known cause of a very serious intestinal infection called C-def.  It's ironical an antibiotic which is supposed to clear up infection can actually cause one.  Clindamycin is so efficient at eradicating bacteria that it can scrub your gut of ALL your bacteria - even the helpful kind, and thus you develop an infection (C-def) because of the antibiotic.  Of course the post operative people didn't tell me ANY of this.

The reason the recovery is finally beginning to make sense is because I went to my family doctor for my annual physical.  He's going to take over the care of the infected incision.  He immediately put me on a SECOND probiotic each day.  (I'd already started one a day on the advice of my personal pharmacist.)  He carefully made me understand the importance of exact dosage times, and FOOD every single time I take one of the antibiotic doses.  His best guess is the infection will be gone by Monday the 13th of November, but not the inflammation near the incision which is still extremely painful.  It's so painful that I really can't wear anything comfortably except yoga pants - what a fashion statement. 

Jan and the Wonderful Walker

Next, he told me exactly how the recovery is going to go:  The next twelve to sixteen weeks will be daily, constant pain - usually low level (3/4).  Intermittent pain for the next six to eight months.  After that numbness will gradually lessen.  (My entire left leg is pretty numb down the side and front all the way to the ankle.)  In one year, I will probably feel back to normal if I do everything right - like no bending, twisting or lifting for two to three months after surgery, diligently going physical therapy, and slowly restarting an exercise program.  Sigh......

The bad news is the Doc cancelled the Thanksgiving trip to New York, and when I quizzed him about the Christmas cruise, his answer was a pair of crossed fingers.  I told  him I'm going on the cruise if I have to wheelchair it!  On the positive side, Southwest REFUNDED MY $1000 WORTH OF THANKSGIVING PLANE TICKETS TO AND FROM NEW YORK!  And people wonder why I always try to fly SW.  And, I know they can resell them for a much higher price than I paid, but, still - it's the principal of customer service Southwest practices.

I'm able to walk pretty normally around the house, but I never leave it without my trusty wheels.  Yes, that black and white monstrosity is my bag addition to carry stuff.  The real purpose of the walker is not to support me when I'm walking.  Instead, it's a mnemonic aid:  Turn your body, don't twist it.  Don't pick up anything you can't reach without bending over, and don't carry anything more than a pound or two in your hands (throws your body 'off').  What a complete pain. 

Ask Drake, or should I say, "Mr. Fetch-It".  Just imagine how difficult and frustrating your day is when you can't open a cabinet below your waist, use a wall socket, step your legs into your panties and pants, bend over to pick up anything off the floor, struggle to get in and out of the car, and my personal favorite: put on your own shoes and sox.  I tell you what; Drake's seriously thinking about putting me on the Waiver Wire.  He REALLY hates cooking by committee because I simply won't accept three months of fast food. 

This is a wonderful walker wheelie

Ok, so what's good?  Just knowing what I'm really facing has taken a lot of anxiety away.  I've noticed the pain is perceptively lessened since my Doc laid out a time table for me.  I have confidence that he and his 'peeps' are going to be responsive in getting this infection gone and the incision healed up.  (Oh, I forgot, I have to see a wound care specialist if the infection isn't gone after completing the two antibiotics.)

Finally, I promise the next blog will be something fun or interesting.  I'm tired of this whole surgery/pain/ gig, and I expect everyone else is too.  I want to thank everyone who sent me a card, texted me, called me, or e-carded me.  A special shout out to the person who has written me every single day since this ordeal started.  (I'm pretty sure she's earned some more stars in her heavenly crown.)   I've also received flowers, meals, and entertainment from friends and family.  My soft spot in the get well card category is for the 20 line letter from one of my second grader friends.  Let's just say it was a very interesting read.  It's so true when you're feeling punk that a 'good mail' day can really give you a lift.

Drake and I are feeling like 'when it rains, it pours' - This week my dentist discovered I need a crown, and Drake found out during his routine eye exam that he needs a minor eye surgery - he's developed a 'film' under his cataract lens.  It's a 2 minute procedure to correct, and he doesn't even need a driver to and from. 

That's just typical stuff that happens to your body post age 65.  I don't think anyone handed out a coupon allowing one to live forever.  However, life's highway seems to be on the downhill slide for us right now.  Ahhh, but this too will pass.  The real question is how graceful will I be while we are passing out from under this thunderstorm.     

Round Four: And, Next..... a New Wrinkle, and It's not Good

It's unanimous.  I'm not having the normal reaction to this back surgery.  Here's a quick recap:  8+ pain sends me to the ER; and two days later emergency back surgery on Saturday, September 30th to repair two problems.  Three days post-surgery, I'm suddenly dealing with 7+ nerve pain!  What the F**K!  When we FINALLY get the post-op team to return our calls, they prescribe a steroid pack to work on the nerve inflammation which is still flaring. 

The pain problems stem from the surgeon having to move aside an entire nerve bundle and then move it back.  Those are the nerves giving me fits.  Back to the recap:  7+ pain returns as soon as I finish the 'steroid pack'.  Then, at the appointment to take out the stitches, (which the office 'lost', and I had to be worked in), instead of being doing high fives all around, I'm still experiencing excruciating nerve pain and trying to talk to the PA about my concerns.  He literally says, "We need to move this along.  I'm an hour behind." He then takes out the stitches,  writes scripts for mega narcotics - morphine plus oxycodone taken together.  (No instructions about how to handle narcotic constipation.)  During that appointment, the PA says, 'that incision might be infected' as he's taking out the stitches, but does nothing.  He say nothing and does nothing about the contact rash in the shape of the post surgery bandage.

Five days later, I'm calling the post operative 'team' again, and again; they won't return my calls.  My incision is hurting and I'm getting worried about the 7+ pain reoccurring when the mega narcotics are finished - which, of course, will happen over the weekend.  On my own, (everything has been on my own in this deal), I reduce the narcotics dosage, and I'm pleased the 7+ pain isn't occurring on the massively reduced dosage. 

Six days after the stitches were taken out, I go to the physical therapist for evaluation to start my six pt sessions.  As she's assessing my pain level, I mention that I'm having pain in my hip and leg and also in the incision.  She says, "Can I look at the incision?  I can put new steri strips on it. " I'm thinking, "What's happening here?  Someone is being proactive.  Gosh, I hope I don't faint."  Next thing I know, she's saying, "No wonder you're hurting, this incision is infected.  I'm calling your surgeon's office."  I said, "Good luck.  Maybe they'll take your call."  She also informs me that I have a contact rash reaction to the adhesive in the original bandage, and she tells me how to treat this.

Sure enough, wow, I suddenly have not one but two prescribed antibiotic prescriptions to be started immediately, and even more astonishing, I have an appointment the very next day with the PA who dropped the ball when the incision was only mildly infected.

The upshot is everyone involved in my post-op care KNOWS AND HAS SAID OUT LOUD I'm not having a normal reaction to the surgery.  I think I'm the only one who is not surprised.  No matter how loudly I say:  I DON'T HEAL FAST, AND I HAVE TROUBLE AFTER SURGERY, no one seems to hear me.  Here's an example:  Last February after my breast surgery, the breast surgeon's PA said, "Oh, you'll be completely healed in 30 days."  When I said, "No, that's not what is going to happen.".  I got the patronizing smirk, and smug comment of, "Oh, I think you will."  90 days later my breast finally stopped hurting.

The difference with this surgery is the shocking amount and severity of the post operative pain.  I've been given no help or guidance by the post surgery team  with the super pain  as well as other niggling problems that I've haven't screamed repeatedly for.  Shall we say, I have a bad attitude whenever I see any person who is on the 'post operative' team?  Thank heaven, I got a competent physical therapist, or I'd really be in deep trouble with an untreated infected incision. 

In my last blog entry, I said, "Let's hope there's no Round 4 blog entry."  Well......, do I dare wish I don't have to write a Round 5 entry?  I'm getting worn down by fighting to get post operative care.  Drake is also getting worn down, frustrated, and almost as angry as I am as he also advocates.  And, anger is SOOOO conducive to healing.  The upshot is don't take me off your prayer list, and I could really use some cards, letters, emails, or calls.   
     

Round Three: Pain, Pain As Far As I can See

I discovered this week I'm in the two percent.  I don't want to be.  Apparently, two percent of the people with this type of surgery have nerves that refuse to settle down and stop being inflamed.  Why am I not surprised?  Everything about this surgery has been out of control from the very beginning.  Now, I have out of control pain.

I know pain, and I know nerve pain.  We're old friends thanks to a foot surgery that went bonkers about 12 years ago.  Since then, I've been managing pain with every step I take, and if I may pat myself on the back, I've been doing a damn good job.  I'm not addicted to pain killers; I continue to function at a normal activity level.  Most people never know I even hurt which is the way I've wanted it.  And, one of the side effects of the neuropathy which has invaded my feet these past few years, is the pain specific to certain nerves has been deadened.

So, when the nerve pain in my back, down both the front and side of my leg and in my groin went out of control this week, I hurt so badly I couldn't even be mad.  I'm talking labor pain quality of pain, but without respite or even the prize at the end.  I'm talking 8+ on the pain scale.  It was pain at this level which originally sent me to the emergency room and resulted in the back surgery happening on an emergency basis on a Saturday morning.

Fortunately, for the support staff of this 'machine' I've been dropped into, Drake has been interfacing with them since all I want to do is scream and curse when they don't return calls or make idiotic suggestions.  This is a conveyor belt operation.  First, you get scheduled for surgery, then have your pre-surgery appointment after getting blood work, an ekg, and a chest x-ray.  (This is precautionary, so you don't die on the table.)  Then, you have 'day surgery' in the outpatient clinic, and go home armed with post surgical instructions and a low dose pain prescription.  Two weeks later, the physician's assistant takes out the stitches and they send you on to physical therapy.

They don't expect you to have surgery in the hospital on a Saturday.   Not only did I not receive post operative instructions, but when we called for the follow up surgical appointment, this well-oiled machine didn't even know I'd had surgery!  Plus, they managed to screw up the time and place of the post operative appointment.

They don't have a plan when you call three days after surgery with complaints of 7+ nerve pain.  I've had to explain I already take Gabapentin a low dose prescription used as an anti-inflammatory, and I can't take ibuprofen around the clock.  (Those were their first choices for pain management.)  Grudgingly, they prescribed a steroid pack.  I've been given a low dose narcotic. I'm taking Celebrex as an anti-inflammatory.   When the steroid pak was finished, the pain zoomed right back into the stratosphere, and I coped with it for two days waiting for the post surgical appointment. 

It was at that appointment I found out I'm in the vaulted 2%.  Apparently most people at the two week point feel mild discomfort for which they take an Aleve.  For us 2 percenters, they grudgingly have to keep trying stuff to control pain for the continual nerve inflammation.

At the post surgical appointment, high dose narcotics were prescribed.  As I was trying to understand what happens when you take high dose narcotics, and trying to explain I was worried about addiction, the physician's assistant told me he was running an hour late and we needed to move along.  He concluded the appointment by taking out the stitches and doing a sloppy job with a set of steri-strips.

Of course, no one mentioned how I'm supposed to handle the opiod constipation.  I'm still suffering anxiety because if these dope prescriptions are renewed, will I be at risk of becoming the newest member of Narcotics Anonymous?  The anxiety is mainly about what happens if I'm still hurting at these high pain levels when these prescriptions run out.

The good news is I don't hurt much.  The nerve pain has been masked, so I feel about 2-4 on the pain scale except when a dope dosage has almost worn off - then I rocket up to pain at level 6.  I'm disgruntled.  I'm depressed.  I'm anxious. I'm angry.

Then, there's EVERYTHING that Drake has been doing.  He tells me he belongs to the Clumsy Nursing Service and the Idiots Shopping Cartel when actually, he's been doing a magnificent job of taking care of someone who can't bend, twist or lift anything and who is also loopy part of the time and just a little off balance.

OK, I think I've finished complaining.

To everyone who has emailed me, texted me, called me, or sent me snail mail (my favorite), please accept my heartfelt thanks.  I love to get mail especially when I'm really down.  My favorites are the postcard in the shape of a baboon head, and the 20 line letter from a 2nd grader friend.  I'm also grateful for all the prayers being offered on my behalf.  Prayer is the best.  Oh, and the flowers I've received; those have been wonderful.  Then, there are the meals.  My friends and family have been johnnie on the spot delivering food.  (Drake is REALLY grateful for all those meals.)

I'm a lucky person who has lots of friends who go that extra mile to make me feel cherished.  I'm always telling people I write to who are ill a surefire way to pull yourself out of the depths is to count your blessings.  I have heaps and gobs of those blessings which are easy to overlook when your focus is negative.  So far, I'd give myself a C- for my mental state.  Writing this has helped me see how my attitude sucks.  Time to pull up my sox - well, actually, Drake has to do that since I can't bend over to put them on.  I guess I'm pulling up my metaphorical sox, and instituting ways to turn my mental attitude around.  I don't have time for excuses, or for more whining and I'm leaving the pity party.  I'm not sniffing up any more anger.  Hopefully, I WON'T be writing a 'Round Four' blog entry.  Thanks to all my readers for helping me clarify my thoughts and for helping me get my head screwed on straight.  (The head screw thing was one of my mother's favorites, and I always find the mental image of getting those screw threads lined up hilarious.)  See, I'm already smiling.

Round Two: Drake Wins the Day

Are you ready for round two?  Home from the hospital on Sunday.  Doing really well.  Monday goes really well, and I acquire the accessories necessary for no bending, lifting or twisting (walker, toilet rails, shower chair). 

Woke up Tuesday morning with PAIN, BIG PAIN. 

{Here's a short tutorial on how 'pain' is measured according to the medical field:  Pain:  1 - 2; can be completely ignored.  Pain 3 - 4; pain can be ignored if mind is engaged in something else; Pain 5 - 6; OK, this can't be ignored - need to seek some relief; Pain 7 - 8; Seriously, do something NOW, it's all I can think about.  Pain 9 - 10  Oh, Lord, this is unendurable.}

I spend a lot of time at Levels 3, 4, 5 due to my foot issues.  So, when I say BIG PAIN, I'm talking 7+. 

OK, so I woke up Tuesday morning at 6am with BIG PAIN.  And it was nerve pain hurting in all the places I supposedly just had fixed.  Talk about despair.  My first thought was:  the surgery to repair my back and free up the nerves hadn't worked.  Moaning, crying, panting, rocking, and so forth while Drake works at making me as comfortable as possible.  We waited until 8am and called the surgeon's office.  First, they tell me not to worry, this is 'normal'.  It turns out the nerve block the Doc used during the surgery had worn off, and I was feeling the inflammation of the nerves he worked around.  Help was on the way.  The medical assistant immediately sent a steroid pack prescription electronically to our local Walgreen's.  This was about 8:15am

9:00 comes and goes 10:00 comes and goes.  Drake calls the drug store twice and finally says, "What the HELL!  It turns out Walgreen's has this little woman in a soiled house dress,  wearing sagging support hose, dirty house shoes with bunion cutouts, with smudged half-glasses perched on the end of her nose, pecking away in her computer cubicle entering all the electronic prescriptions that have arrived for the entire Phoenix region into Walgreen's pharmacy computers.  You can't get your prescription filled at Walgreen's until the electronic prescription sent in by your doctor is manually imputed into the Walgreen pharmacy system.  And, it's not just Walgreen's, folks.  It's EVERY pharmacy.  There are no electronic links between your doctor's office and the pharmacies.   

Meanwhile, the BIG PAIN is ratcheting up and and up and up.  I think I hit an "8" on the scale at one point.  Oh, and these aren't like labor contractions, there are no 'rest periods' - it's just all pain, all the time.  Drake is alternating between anger and angst.  About 11:00am, he just goes up to the doctor's office and cajoles a paper facsimile of the electronic prescription out of them.  He heads for Walgreen's, and then GETS TO WAIT FOR 30 MINUTES to get it filled even though Walgreen's has supposedly 'had it' since 8:16 am! 

At 1:00 pm after being in Level 7+ pain without any let up since 6:00 am, I finally get the first dose from the steroid pack prescribed to take the inflammation out of my agitated nerves.  At 3:00 pm - poof, no more nerve pain.   

You can take this as a cautionary tale.  Here's the take-away:  Get paper copies of any prescription you plan to fill either immediately or as future treatment for a medical 'event'.  Electronic submission of a prescription is a minimum of a one-half day wait or longer to get it in your hands.

And in my eyes, Drake wins the day by defeating the big demons with ingenuity and persistence.  Yea, Drake! 

   

 

A Harrowing Week!

Hello, readers.  Boy, do I have a NEWSFLASH!  One Sunday in San Diego, next Saturday in Sun City having back surgery.  Here's how it all came about:  Suddenly, on Monday, September 18, I got up to go to the bathroom about 2 am, and my left leg collapsed underneath me.  I had been having increasing pain in NEW PLACES in my left leg and groin building all day Monday.  On Tuesday, September 19th, we went to an Urgent Care Center and I got a steroid shot which seemed to calm down some of the pain, and make the leg stronger.  However, all was not right, and it was obvious we couldn't wait until November 1st to have the previously scheduled back surgery.  I managed to get the back surgery moved up to October 9th, and with that scheduled, we knew we should just get back to Sun City as my condition seemed to be mysteriously deteriorating.

We packed up and we left San Diego on Tuesday, September 26th, and that 400 mile ride was quite difficult for me.  Wednesday, September 27th, I was at my primary care doctor having the pre-surgery appointment.  Then, Thursday, September 28th, everything went to hell in the proverbial hand basket.  My pain just kept increasing throughout the day and into the night.  By the early morning hours of Friday, September 29th, I was in agony, and the pain I was experiencing in my groin and back was greater than any labor pain I've ever had.  I dressed and undressed three times trying to decide whether or not to go to the emergency room.  Finally, good sense prevailed, and I arrived at the Sun City hospital emergency room at 6am.

Within a few hours, I was admitted to 'observation', or as I like to call it 'purgatory'.  You are on a floor of the hospital in a room with a bed, but you are not technically admitted.  The best thing about being in purgatory is I was handed off by the emergency room doc to the hospitalist (hospital doctor).  Why did this happen?  Because even morphine in an iv drip was not touching the pain.  If you can't take pills to treat a problem, they don't send you home.  It took the hospitalist to really take hold of the pain problem.  To manage the pain, he put me on something 10 times stronger than morphine delivered by iv in 3 hour increments.  He also apparently laid the law down to my surgeon and explained he should come to the hospital and schedule an emergency surgery for Saturday, September 30th.

And, that's what happened:  First, on Friday, I had a series of MRI's - I think five in total spaced out throughout the day with the last one happening at 8 pm on Friday evening.  It turns out that Back Problem #1 was joined by Back Problem #2 in San Diego and #2 was causing the big pain increase.  The surgeon corrected both problems with micro-surgery - meaning he used a tube in conjunction with a scope to correct both problems individually instead of laying open my back.  I have two one inch incisions, which are sore, but I went home Sunday (today, October 1st) and expect to recover in 6-8 weeks.  (Probably a little longer for me since I'm a slow healer.)

Here's the GOOD NEWS:  As of Sunday evening, I have NO nerve pain running down my leg, or in my groin.  The only back pain I'm feeling are the two incision areas, and those feel totally different than the nerve pain I was previously having in my back.  The BAD NEWS (especially for Drake) is I can't bend over or twist my body or lift anything over 2 pounds for 6-8 weeks.)  I'm using a walker to help me remind myself to turn my body not twist at the waist - harder than you think.  The NOT SURPRISING NEWS is I found the walker at Goodwill for $10 and Drake went to pick it up.  I left the hospital today with this walker

So.....  In closing:  If you live away from Arizona, and you are religious, continued prayers for healing, please.  If you live away and are not religious, then think good thoughts for my healing  If you have been a letter recipient currently, or in the past, I'm calling in your marker and would appreciate some mail.  If you live in or around Phoenix, I'm not going to be shy at calling you up and saying something to the effect:  And, what day in the next two weeks will you be bringing us a meal?  I'm  not cooking AT ALL until October 15th at the earliest, and probably not consistently for the next six weeks after that.  See, there's ALWAYS A SILVER LINING if you just look for it.         

Hello, Zoo

It looks like our San Diego sojourn is going to be cut short since my back went wonkers this week.  At least we managed to see the most iconic attraction this city has to offer:  The San Diego Zoo.  This is actually the second time I've been to the zoo.  In 1980 some close friends moved to Orange County (an urban area just south of Los Angeles), and one of the things we did during our visit out to California to see them was a road trip to the San Diego Zoo.

I think 'road trip' doesn't EXACTLY convey a car trip which included a three year old as well as his older brother who was under pressure to learn the multiplication tables.  The older brother was not thrilled at the idea of the memorization of something which he had concluded could just as easily be accomplished by using a calculator.  He was very resistant, and as it turns out, prescient.  (If someone asks you today what 9x7 is, a shocking number of us would just open the iphone calculator function for the answer.)

What I mainly remember is how big the zoo was, and by the end of the day in 1980 I was envying the three year old's option to ride in his stroller rather than walk.  Fast forward thirty seven years and the biggest difference from then to now was how people get around the park. There are now three varieties of 'people movers' used throughout the zoo.  First, you can take a 'bus tour' of the zoo.  Think Grayline doubledecker open air buses rolling around the entire zoo.  This is a 'tour', and there is non-stop commentary as well as photo opportunities. You stay on the bus, but you can stand up, move to the other side and so forth to take pictures.  That's how I got the shot of this polar bear.

Polar bear hair follicles are actually tubes, and in San Diego, their fur is 'green' because
algae is growing inside the hair follicles

The second form of transportation is the Kangaroo Trolley.  There are several 'stops' throughout the zoo, and you hop on and hop off at the stops just like a kangaroo.  Finally, you can take a gondola all the way across the zoo and back.  Even with better transportation, the zoo resembles a maze.  The zoo management cleverly scattered zoo volunteers all over the place to help out with directions.  Part of the difficulty in getting around is the fault of the zoo map.  The map is mostly a cartoon map with pictures of animals to show where they are.  Also, this is a patchwork quilt of a place since many enclosures have been 'added' on or 'remodeled', and getting from Animal A to Animal B is rarely a straight shot.

We planned our trip to the zoo like it was a military campaign.  First, we wanted to go when all the elementary aged rug rats were back in school.  Second, we wanted a cloudy, cool day. From past zoo experiences, we knew the animals would be more active if the day was cool and overcast.  And, that's what we did.  On the day we visited, there was a mixture of the toddler crowd with the oldster tourists like us.  It was pretty uncrowded, so we really enjoyed seeing everything. 

My favorite part of the zoo were the two aviaries.  I love aviaries.  In this zoo there were bird feeders everywhere.  I actually saw a Hammerkop catch and eat a fish out of a little 'stream' running through one of the aviaries!  I was buzzed so closely by Metallic Starlings heading to a feeder, that my hair ruffled The benches are covered (like bus stops), so you don't receive any unwelcome surprises from overhead.  I could have sat there looking at the exotic birds all day long.

This is the bird who caught and ate a fish right out of the stream in front of him.

What's important about this zoo goes on behind the viewing areas.  This is the zoo that saved the California Condor from extinction.  They have two Great Pandas on loan from China, and the San Diego Zoo has the most successful panda breeding program in the entire country.   They are trying to save tigers, elephants, and rhinoceros to name a few from extinction. They have pioneered innovative treatments of exotic animals.  What surprised me the most was a white dog inside the cheetah enclosure.  Cheetahs are very high strung, and the white dog and the cheetah were raised together from the time they were both born, so they view one another as friends rather than hunter and prey.  The dog's function is to keep the cheetah mellow, and if my pictures are any indication, he's doing a good job.

This is a California Condor; their wing span can be up to 25'

My one disappointment was we didn't see the Great Pandas.  They were slumbering inside their outdoor cave - they sleep about 20+ hours a day, and the only chance to really see them is feeding time.  We decided not to stand in front of the enclosure for 40 minutes waiting for feeding time.  The other big sleepers were the koalas.  They sleep about 22 hours a day.  The zoo cleverly designed sleeping perches for them which just happen to be in perfect view of the spectators like us.

One of fifteen sleeping perches in the koalas Eucalyptus 'forest'

The cheetah watching us

This was a great day.  And, we topped it off with dinner at a French Bistro in a hip part of town.  I ate a local sea bass over quinoa in a white wine butter sauce with very tiny pieces of asparagus scattered through the quinoa.  It was the best restaurant fish dish I've eaten in quite awhile.  Of course, we ended the evening with chocolate mousse.

I hope you enjoy the pictures.  I edited these on Google Photo.  If you click on the information button, you should see the kind of information I usually put directly on the individual pictures when I'm editing in the now obsolete Picasa program.  

https://photos.app.goo.gl/bl6KyTHygFKG3f1w2 

    

        

When the Unexpected Pops Up, It's Delightful

Sometimes, while traveling, we see unexpected stuff.  We think, "Is this for real?"  I've seen an entire park of miniature famous buildings - all about 25% the size of the real thing.  I'm talking Westminster Abbey, the White House, the Taj Mahal, and so forth.  That place took the cake since each of the 50 or so buildings were constructed by one person over a 30 year period.  When we were in Maine, we found a bird museum - birds faithfully carved lifesized in exquisite detail in wood. Again, the lifetime work of one man.

As a 'tack on' to a day at the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park in San Diego, we went to the Model Railroad Museum just to round out the day, and we found something entirely unexpected.  This place rivals lots of places we've seen because this museum represents the collaboration of four separate groups of people each maintaining portions of an overall vision of model railroading.  These exhibits have taken hundreds of hours to complete, and additional hours every day from 11am to 4pm to keep the models operational.  Here are examples of model railroading at its finest:

San Diego Port - circa 1950

There are four separate clubs represented in the exhibitions.  Three out of the four create their own models and landscape based on aerial photographs.  The fourth is designed for children and appropriately is called the "Toy Train" Exhibit.  All the models in this exhibit are purchased ready made by this club from the various model railroading companies, Lionel being the most famous. (Sadly, according to one of the club members I interviewed, Lionel chose not to offer any support in terms of offering any models or other equipment the club needed to create this fabulous set up.)

Here's John manning the exhibition for visitors and answering questions - a great ambassador for the hobby

Do you ever set up a Christmas Village somewhere in your house as a decoration?  Well, the Toy Train exhibition was like that except on steroids and with trains running through it. An entire town has been re-created right down to the cars and people.  This is the one thing this club has in common with the other three clubs.

This is one small corner of the Toy Train exhibition.  I love the theater is showing "Gone with the Wind".  There are all sorts of 'fun' details in this model.  Can you spot the star of the Disney movie "Cars"?

By contrast, the other three model railroading clubs use a different scale of train than the Toy Train exhibit, and strive for accuracy of the placement of the train tracks through a representation of an actual landscape at a certain time period.

Actual farmhouse with outbuildings exactly located (see train running on left) circa 1953 - train route from Bakersfield  to Mojave.  [See aerial photograph below]

This club is in the process of building the exact landscape, towns, trestles, bridges, and tunnels of the train route from Bakersfield to Mojave - a portion of the train tracks servicing the length of California.  The trick for the real railroad was to build a huge trestle and a series of tunnels for the track. (Remember, this model mimics the real thing.)

Trace your finger between Bakersfield and Mojave.  That's the train track which had to be built in order to get train service from north to south in California, and this model railway club is building the route in their display.

First, they pour over aerial photography of the period they are trying to build, so not only will the topography be accurate, but the towns along the route will also be portrayed accurately for the time period.  One of the railroaders told me the time period was circa 1953 or possibly a little later since in 1952 there was a 7.5 earthquake which damaged portions of the track, trestles and tunnels.  What's shown in the model is what was rebuilt after the quake.

Aerial Photograph of a portion of the route between Bakersfield and Mojave

Miniature trestle in one of the railroad models

I learned a huge number of factoids during our tour of these models.  The "Toy Train" operators bring their own personal trains to the model, and flip one switch.  The train(s) then run non-stop for the entertainment of the visitors.  The ambassadors stand in the center of the exhibit and answer questions.  They even have a uniform - each wears a blue work shirt with their names embroidered on them.   The "Toy Train" exhibit is decorated for holidays - the main ones being:  Halloween and Christmas.  The decorating takes several club members about 12 hours to both put up and take down the decorations.  I also noticed how very dust free and clean the "Toy Train' exhibit was in contrast to the other three models.  Doug and John confided there's a very petite lady member of the club who regularly climbs up onto the model with her duster and other cleaning supplies.  (I should have known the reason it was so clean was because of the work of a woman!)

By contrast, the other three models are completely different in scope and intent.  First, they are modeled on a smaller scale than the more well known "O" scale popularized by the Lionel Train Company and used by the Toy Train Exhibit.  Next, the other 'clubs' have two types of members.  One type of member pours over aerial photographs, and literally sculps the shown landscape to scale usually out of styrofoam.  Rocks, brooks, trees, bushes, roads, and, of course, train tracks are added.  There are also members who build trestles, tunnels, and bridges.  Anecdotally, one club member confided they tore apart an entire section which had almost been completed because it was 2" off 'scale'.  These members also build buildings and towns to scale and then paint them realistically.  Here's an example of building constructed by one club.

Notice, we're having an employee meeting out front of the Sun Harbor Company.  (This was a real building on this site during the time period of the model)

The other type of member is less into modeling and more into railroading.  Railroading means a club member actually runs a train in the model adhering to all the rules and regulations a real train engineer would have observed on that particular route.  As one member who was running a train in the model told me, "In this stretch of track, the train may not exceed a 23 mph speed just as the rule would have been for the real train"  Then, he whipped out of his back pocket a well thumbed 5"x 5" book of about 50 pages of 'rules'.  As he put it, any member who is railroading (running a train on the model) who does not adhere scrupulously to the rules is in a world of hurt.  These railroaders stand in the center of the model and make sure they are observing all the switches, and throwing all appropriate switches in addition to monitoring the speed of the train which changes as the train progresses through the model. The club railroaders struck me as being almost as serious as real train engineers upon whose railroading skills the lives of people riding a real train depend.

A railroader running a train through the model of the train route between Bakersfield and Mojave  He's standing (actually sitting on a stool) in the center of the model.

Finally, there was a lagniappe thrown into this museum.  This guy is not a model railroader in the traditional sense.  Instead he spent 22 years building his own 1/4th size train engine. Here is Ace Wischstadt, riding his creation which he started builting in 1957 and completed in 1979.  He fabricated most of the parts himself.

 As always, there are more pictures.  I recommend you run these as a 'slideshow', so you can see the captions on the pictures.  

https://photos.app.goo.gl/NxGOinc2odERpkNP2

     

Head Explosion Imminent!

San Diego is beautiful.  Its fabulous climate is well-known.  It has wonderful weather all the time.  Those are the only reasons I can figure why people put up with the snarls that are the roads and freeways here.  My hairdresser says she's lives 'up North' to get out of the craziness.   We live close to the center of town, and I've seen and been involved in 'the craziness' first hand.  The traffic here is no worse than anything Houston or DFW can throw down. The local knowledge needed to drive in Austin has always topped the frustration while driving charts.  However, there's a new town taking over that number one slot.   What makes this town so head banging insane are the roads and the freeways are so convoluted, we are constantly baffled trying to get from point A to B.

Here's an example:  It took us about five trips to figure out how to get to and from our condo to the grocery store.  The details will mean nothing to you, but just envision coming out of your own grocery store and after traveling for three blocks, you have no idea where you are or how to get back home.

No....  We are not developing dementia.  Sometimes streets change names. Other streets appear on GPS, but don't exist going the direction you're traveling. Street signs are fickle and come in all colors and flavors and heights.  For example, in one place marking the name of the street we live on, the sign is waist height, and half the size of a normal street sign.  This is a major turn onto a major parkway.  We drive that way all the time, and we are still anxious trying to find that damn turn each time.  

It takes both of of us to go anywhere.  I've never lived in a place that we didn't get the geography of the neighborhood almost immediately.  (That's the royal 'we'; I usually lag behind Drake in getting the neighborhood streets as a map in my head.)  In this place, one of us (Drake) has to drive while the other one (Jan) has her nose in the iphone saying, "It's three more streets; then turn left.

Today, going to the beach was a perfect example.  We got there using the driver/nose to the iphone combo even though we've been there before.  So, leaving the beach to head back home, we were inadvertently 'winging' it because my iphone was in the beach bag in the far back of the car.  Drake's like, "We've been here twice, so surely I can retrace our steps". Nope.  We managed to go north and west when we were trying for south and east.

I feel the most sorry for Drake.  He has this really superior sense of direction, and his modus operand is to map something once, and then he's got it in his head until time immemorial. He would be able to go back to any other location we've spent more than one month visiting and he'd be able to get around with minimal map interaction.  I thought the top of his head was going to blow off today as it became apparent we were lost trying to get
home from the beach.

We really love to take the transit, but, as with so many cities in San Diego it's really a concept rather than a reality.  The schedule is sporadic, and often it doesn't go someplace that seems a no brainer - like the airport for example.  We have managed to not drive two or three times, and it was such a relief.  Despite the 'getting lost' problems, we've perserved.

We've gone to LaJolla. and Torrey Pines Reserve.  We've been to the Birch Aquarium. We've been horse racing (won 3 out of 7 races); as well as the San Diego Art Museum.  We've been to the Balboa Park Rose Garden.  We've taken in Band Concerts and a live performance of "Hamlet" at the Globe Theater.  We've seen the USS Midway and the United States Sand Sculpture Competition.

Tomorrow we head to the zoo.  I swear.  If we get lost after having been in this area three times, Drake's head may really explode.  Keep your fingers crossed.  If you hear I'm having the car detailed, well, you'll know what happened.

If you want to see some pix, here's a line-up

  https://goo.gl/photos/JFH2MPYskrXe1LSY8  (Aquarium)

https://goo.gl/photos/rfR4DTLXe3DmV3tP9  (LaJolla & Torrey Pines)

https://photos.app.goo.gl/VuAnnNVWOymDo5UM2  (San Diego Art Museum)

              

United States Sand Sculpture Competition, San Diego, California

In the past seven years I've been to some interesting events, but just as you think you've seen everything, something new to me pops up.  We attended the United States Sand Sculpture Competition at the Embarcadero on San Diego Bay Harbor today.  When we got tickets, I just assumed it would be outdoors at the waterfront park.  Nope.  Rain would definitely put a big damper on this event, so it was held inside.

So, let's start with the sand:  It's not beach sand, so don't try this the next time you head to the beach.  It's quarry sand which is full of sediment.  The sediment hardens the sand to allow giant sculptures to be carved. These are so big they need scaffolding.  You start at the top and work down.  There are also big slabs of plywood nailed together into boxes which are 'forms' used to pack the sand tightly - especially at the base.  The only thing added to the sand is water - no glue or other hardening agent is allowed. There was also nothing but sand - no props.  

This competition has $60,000 worth of prizes to be handed out to the 'Master Class' of sculptors after the judging on Sunday. There are also 3 Man Teams creating pieces.  One of the Master Sculptors came from as far away as Russia.  Another arrived from Prince Edward Island.  I met a woman in the bathroom who arrived from London!  California was also well represented.  Each category (Master or 3 Man Teams) has two days to complete the sculpture.  This is temporary art.  They will all be destroyed on Monday.

I started talking to one of the Archisand owners as he was working with his three man team.  Archisand  is a sand sculpting corporation.  You can contract with this company to sculpt your own private sand sculpture.  Most of these people in the 'master' ranks have been carving for twenty plus years, and most of them do this for a living!  You can't do that by winning competition money, but rather by creating sculptures for events.

The Archisand guys are both architects and have known each other for more than 30 years.  They met one another at their first architecture job.  Gradually, they formed a team, entered more and more competitions, and then founded Archisand and began sculpting full time.  One confided he likes building with sand rather than bricks and mortar because of the instant gratification. These guys are 'masters', and they had completed their "Master Sculptor" entry, (Symbiosis) and three of them were working on the 'Summer of Love' for the 3 Man Competition.   Each sculpture has a name and it is often clever.  My favorite sculpture was named after Newton's Third Law.  (For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction.)  Drake's favorite was called 'Horse Power'.  The US Sand Sculpture Competition is the top of the pyramid in competitions.  The Archisand guy confided they don't enter the lower tier competitions anymore - it wouldn't be fair was the way he saw it.

There were about a dozen sand sculptures being created inside the building where passengers get on and off a cruise ship when one is in port.  Here's my favorite, and Drake's favorite.

"Dancing to Newton's Third Law"

        

Horse Power

If you'd like to see the rest of the sculptures, then, click on the link:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/MhMpdTW7gfqEuCCu1

It's a Dog's Life

I think it's time to get in trouble with my readers.  Ready?  I'm sick of dogs everywhere.  Yes, I just said that.  This condominium we've rented in San Diego is dog heaven.  There's tons and tons of grass.  You can walk your dog by circling the building, and I must admit I've yet to see a single dog owner here who isn't picking up the 'mess'. I get that dogs are often the emotional lifelines of older people.  I should know; I live in Sun City for half the year.  I understand younger people are postponing marriage and are lonely at the end of a long work day.  And, if you want to enjoy your dog in your home, fine with me.  If you want to walk a quiet, well behaved dog heeled on a leash, go for it.

 However, I'm sick to death of hearing 'the yapper' twice a day, every day.  Just like that one kid in the class who's a troublemaker and a pot stirrer, this little yapper in our condo invariably snarls, yaps and growls at any other dog it even sees, and then we are off to the races.  I'm right at the point of walking out onto the balcony and screaming 'GET A MUZZLE' the next time I hear that little monster.

Here's another big secret I'd like to share with dog owners :  Your dog is not a person.  It doesn't belong on the couch in your living room.  It doesn't need a chair at the dinner table.  It doesn't need health insurance.  I'm not interested in having breakfast, lunch, or dinner with it in a restaurant.  I'm not too thrilled about doggie cookies displayed in the bakery window. I don't care if they are "baked locally with human-grade grain-free ingredients in the fun flavors of blueberry, bacon, peanut putter, meatball and ginger". (Just wondering what breed of dog eats blueberry or ginger?)   It shouldn't be sitting in an airline seat.  I don't think it cares if the feeding dish is ergonomically designed to ease neck strain.  Hiking trails are for people not dogs, and definitely not for dogs off leashes.  Sames goes for beaches.  For some reason, if it's a trail or a beach, dog owners don't feel obliged to pick up the feces. They just leave it for the rest of us to enjoy.  

I don't want my shoe bitten.  I don't want my shoe laces nibbled.  I don't want my pants leg slobbered on.  I don't want dog hairs on any article of my clothing.  I don't want to be jumped on.  I don't want to be crotch sniffed.  I don't want to be leg humped.  I don't want to be barked at.  I don't want to be growled at and particularly with bared teeth.  I especially don't want to smile and be gracious when your dog rips, tears, or destroys something that belongs to me.

And if all that isn't bad enough, here's another newsflash:  Holidays are also for people, not dogs.  Your dog doesn't want or need a Halloween costume.  It doesn't like to trick or treat since it shouldn't be eating candy. It doesn't need an Easter basket with doggie safe chocolate.  I'm not particularly interested in receiving a Christmas card from your animal.  And, for Pete's sake, no dog likes fireworks.

Let's play the age old children's game of 'which one is not like the others'.  Here are your three choices:  service dogs, working dogs and emotional support dogs.  Yep, emotional support dogs do not have either the legal status or training of the other two.  Talk about a scam:  Buy a blanket that says 'emotional support dog' with some bogus seal embroidered on it, and that dog owner thinks he or she can bring the animal anywhere.  Nope.  Those silly little dogs do not have the same legal standing as real service dogs.  Your emotional support dog does not have the legal right to be in the shopping mall, the movie theater, the restaurant, and especially not the grocery store which is just flat out against the health regulations in every state.

Shame on every business owner who is turning a blind eye and allowing these bogus dogs where they don't belong.  Just think about it for a minute - there easily could have been a dog riding in that grocery cart you just put your food into.  I make it a particular point to COMPLAIN to any assistant manager or store manager or restaurant manager I can find about this travesty.  Every single one of them has said, "I don't like it either, but it's impossible to stop."  No, it isn't.  You post a sign:  Service Dogs only.  You turn these other dogs away for a couple of days, and problem solved.

At this point, you're thinking, "Gosh, Jan, you don't like dogs?"  Wrong.  I like dogs.  On the floor, in your house and not barking outside of mine.