No More Monkey Business!

OK, scientists!  Do you think you could get your act together?  I was eating my heart-healthy, high-fiber English muffin this morning and reading the paper when yet another medical study caught my eye.  For some years now, scientists have been noticing that rats and monkeys who eat less calories than normal (think 30 to 40 percent) might live longer than those who don't.  Reports have also erupted now and again that eating a semi-starvation diet will extend your lifespan.

Now let me get this straight.  Can you hear the wheels turning in my head?  If I voluntarily semi-starve myself, I might have longer to live being hungry?  Let's say I go with Option No. 2?  If the range given in THAT study is 30-40%, I'd definitely head towards the 30% side of things.  Now they didn't seem to stipulate in the article what KIND of things you had to give up to constitute that 30-40%.  Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if I gave up things like salads and vegetables to come up with that 30%.  Could I EVEN come up with 30% of my total intake if I gave up such things?  Shoot!  I doubt I'd even be able to scrape up a measly 5% to give up on those terms.

Skimming back through the article I see the monkeys that were tracked for over twenty years on a restricted calorie diet didn't squeeze out any more years than their well-fed peers.  However, they DID appear to more successfully ward off cancer.  Now THAT could make a person sit up and take more notice.

The article goes on to say that scientists aren't really sure why the monkeys on a calorie-restricted diet didn't live longer than the other monkeys but that they aren't giving up investigating because (get this) the "younger" monkeys are still alive.  Duh, ya think?  They DO think, though, that they probably won't find any "edge" on extending lifespan when all is said and done........unless they DO, which is always possible.  Okey dokey!  And maybe it's possible that I'll give up my sugar addiction and start eating totally healthy......unless I don't, but I'm not totally ruling that out. (See, I can do "scientist speak", too.)

On an entirely different note but yet, still staying somewhat on the topic of longevity, the paper also had an article yesterday about a 100-year-old driver who thought he was backing out of a parking spot and ended up backing into a street and up onto a sidewalk and into a group of folks waiting to buy food from a vendor.
I was reading this to the Commander.

"Oh, my goodness, this guy is actually turning 101 in September, " I continued.

"Introduce him to your mother," the Commander suggested.  "She's a spring chicken in comparison."

Mom turns 99 in September and she never met a dessert that she didn't enjoy wholeheartedly.

Prehistoric Buttons for the Modern Knitter

If you are a knitter, chances are that you have knit a garment at some point in your knitting career that required buttons.   I don't know about you, but I am ALWAYS on the lookout for unique buttons that I think will set off projects I might have in the works.

Recently my sister-in-law gave me a set of buttons for my birthday that were made out of Petosky Stone.  If you're from Michigan, you are probably familiar with these wonderful stones.  If you aren't, let me tell you a little about them.  They are actually fossilized coral that are found in Michigan, often along the shores of Lake Michigan and some of the other Great Lakes.  They were originally part of some great coral reefs found in the area millions of years ago.  As the coral died off, it eventually fossilized and then, when the glaciers moved through the state, the glaciers dragged fragments of these frozen bits of prehistoric history around the area.  Now the Petosky Stone is the official State Stone of Michigan.    Seen above, it doesn't look like much, does it?  Now obviously, you wouldn't be encountering it in a button shape along the beach but as a pebble or rock.  It would look more like a pock-marked piece of concrete or volcanic stone unless you got it wet.  That's when you see the wonders that are in that unassuming stone.  (As kids, we used to search for Petosky Stones and then bring our treasures home and entertain ourselves by dipping them in a bucket of water and watch the patterns of the coral emerge.)

My sister purchased these buttons from the delightfully-named vendors called Two Old Stoners at a craft fair.  The button on the right is how it looks before you polish it.  The button on the left is how it looks after being polished.  Wonderfully, they include easy-to-follow instructions on how to polish these that use three simple items....an emery board, some sandpaper, and baby oil.  Piece of cake!

Here's a look at another of the buttons after I had polished them. Aren't they unique? They'll be perfect for a sweater that I have in mind and I already have the yarn in hand. If you'd like to see more of the Petosky Stone products that these vendors are making, you can follow them on Facebook (under "Two Old Stoners"). Happy knitting!

Naming Your New Dog

In my last post, I described the lessons I've learned on how NOT to come up with names for a new dog.  Well, now I'm going to give you some ideas to find just the right name for that new puppy or rescue that will be joining your household.  Let's get creative, shall we?

1.  Do you have a special hobby or activity that you are passionate about?  Let's say you LOVE to motorbike.  Perhaps you'd like to name your dog "Harley?"  Do you enjoy eating?  Go do an internet search on "culinary terms" or things like "names of desserts."  Maybe your new dog is a "Muffin" or a "Beignet"?  Do you love that cup of coffee every morning?  How about calling the pup "Starbucks?" Then there's one of my personal favorites...."Snickers."   I love to read so I've been doing searches for lists of famous English authors and poets to see if there are any particular names that jump out at me.  I also love music.  I did a search of musical terms and found potential names like "Largo" and "Rondo."  I've pulled potential names from lists of composers.  You all know that I love to knit but knitting terms have been kind of a bust.  "Purl" and "yarn-over" don't really thrill me.  Are you a Dungeons and Dragons kind of person?  Try Famous Dragon Names and you might get lucky.

2.  What is your ethnic heritage?  I'm particularly proud of my Viking  and German ancestry.  Some of my name searches have centered around websites that list Viking names like Viking Given Names and  Norse Pantheon.

3.  What is the country that your dog's breed originated in?  My pup's breed originated in Scotland so I've been doing internet searches for "Scottish place names", "Scottish mythology", even "Scotch whiskey" and visiting links like ScotchWhiskey.net to check out names of distilleries.  I've looked at maps of Scotland and her islands and considered names of some of the towns that might be suitable as a dog's name.

4.  What color is your dog?  Westies are white dogs.  I've looked up synonyms for "white" to see if anything might click with me.  I've even looked up the word "white" in different languages.

5.  What are your favorite movies or TV shows?  Are you a big fan of the "Lord of the Rings" movie?  Maybe "Bilbo" or a "Gandalf" would work.  Are you nuts about the Harry Potter movies?  Think of all the characters in those movies.  There are some dandy names in them.  Wikipedia always is a quick source of names and if you type in something like "characters in the Harry Potter books" in your search engine, Wikipedia will most likely be one of your top choices that come up.

6.  What is your occupation?  My husband works in Information Technology.  He's a computer whiz.  I could come up with a name like "Asci" or "Spooler".  I would NOT recommend "Byte" though.  If you're a doctor, is there a medical term that might be fun as a name?  Are you an artist?  How about "Pixel" or "Dither?"  Goodness, think of all the famous painters that have great names for a pet.

7.  Do you already have a pet?  Perhaps you'd like to name your new pet a name that would complement the pet you already have on hand.  You can go to Famous Couples to get some ideas, like "Pebbles & Bam Bam" or "Bert & Ernie".

8.  Check out some websites set up for expectant parents looking for names.    There are so many websites that list page after page of boy and girl names along with their meanings and place of origin.  Many also have additional lists like "German names", "French names," etc.

9.  Try these dog-naming sites.  Fun Dog Names doesn't list just funny names.  It has name lists by breed, countries, and many other categories.  Dog Names Woof! is another similar website.

Finally....if your dog is going to be registered with the American Kennel Club, you'll definitely want to go to their Dog Name Check Site.  Here you can put in the dog breed you'll be getting, enter your name (it doesn't matter if you haven't actually got the dog in hand yet or its papers) and then just type in a name.  It will tell you if it is taken or not.  Don't be discouraged if your choice is already taken.  You can always add a middle name and often that frees up your choice OR they might suggest you add a number after the name , i.e. "Laddie IV".  Who care about the number?  He'll be "Laddie" to you.  As you find names that are available, you can jot them down for future reference and then you'll be all set when you DO have your dog's papers and can do a quick search to make sure your choice is still available.  You can now register your dog online. Wow, I still remember the days when you sent in your name choice by mail and hoped and prayed that the name wasn't already taken.

Good luck and have fun in coming up with that perfect name for your newest canine member of the family.

How NOT to Name a Dog!

For the past month, I've been on a mission to pick a name for the West Highland Terrier puppy who will be joining our family in October.  You would not BELIEVE the hours I've spent perusing the Internet, looking through dictionaries, leafing through books, skimming indexes, trying to come up with a list of potential names.  It was never this hard with my other dogs.

My first dog was a Shetland Sheepdog that came into my life when I was about twelve years old.  A friend of the family had a litter of pups and my mom walked me down the street to their house and I picked a puppy out of the litter.  On the way back to our house, Mom asked me what I thought we should call her.  With very little thought, I said, "I think she should be called Tichi because you're a teacher and that name sounds like your job."  She was "Tichi" until the day she died.

I got my next dog on the day before I left Colorado and grad school to impulsively move back to Minnesota and the family farm.  She was an Australian Shepherd mix and I grabbed an atlas and looked through a list of towns in Minnesota and decided on the name "Waseca" in celebration of moving back to "God's country."  It had taken me less than a day to come up with her name.

Our third dog took a bit more thought.  We were preparing to move to Morocco, courtesy of the Navy.  We were going to be taking our cat and now, a new Shetland Sheepdog puppy.  I wanted a name that would sound Arabic.  The movie "Ishtar" had just come out in theaters and I liked that name.  We happened to have a neighbor from Saudi Arabia on our base so I walked over to his house and asked him if the word "Ishtar" meant anything bad in Arabic.  He and his wife both looked a little puzzled but they assured me that it didn't mean anything offensive that they were aware of.  I also knew that the "official" language of diplomacy and commerce in Morocco was French.  We were learning French so I wanted to include some French in his name.  Thus we named our dog "Bon Chance Ishtar" which translated to "Lucky Ishtar."  Only later did I discover that "Ishtar" was the name of some ancient fertility goddess.  Luckily our male dog never held a grudge.

Our fourth and latest dog was a Miniature American Eskimo dog.  I went to look at the puppies available, she jumped on my lap and wouldn't get off and I ended up taking her home.  On the way home, I was thinking that she needed a name that reflected something fresh and bubbly and refreshing.  "That's it!" I thought.  "I'll name her Fresca."  If you're a regular reader, you know that Fresca appointed herself my personal protector.  She felt that was her mission in life.  She never left my side when I was in the house.  She was a dear, unique, and challenging dog.  There were days when I thought I should have more appropriately named her "Molotov."  But she was Fresca the Wonder Dog, named on the first day I saw her, and I loved her dearly.

Which brings me to my problem.  I think I just have too much time waiting for this puppy.  It's giving me WAY too much time to choose a name. This should have been approached like I do my shopping.....Bag it and Tag it and That's it!  Here are some lessons learned on what NOT to do:

1.  Do NOT ask your extended family's opinion!  I made the mistake of sending a list of names to my children and extended family, asking them which ones were their favorites.  Mind you, I already had some favorites but I thought I'd be diplomatic and ask their opinions.  Maybe I didn't really want their opinions.  My son shredded one of my favorites.

"Really, Mom?  Puck?  That might sound like a bad word if you're standing out on the back porch calling out  'Puck, go potty....Puck, hurry up and go potty.'  Think about it", he said.

My daughter bowled over several of my other favorites, not liking how they might be shortened.  My brother and sister-in-law came up with names that weren't on the list.  Hey, as if this wasn't hard enough.

2.  Do NOT post your list of potential names on Facebook and ask your friends for their opinions.
What was I thinking?  Well, actually I was thinking that I would apply the scientific method of making hash marks by each name according to how many voted for what names.  Logically, I could end up with two or three front-runners.  First off, the votes were all over the place.  Secondly, people were suggesting other names that weren't on the list.  Again, no, no, no!  And now I had just added peer pressure to family pressure in the matter of my name choice.

3.  Do NOT think that you and your spouse will agree on a name.  If it hasn't happened in the past 30+ years, it isn't suddenly going to happen now.  I had had this rosy picture in my mind that the Commander and I would come up with our puppy's name together since this is going to be our "empty nest" puppy.  He's going to be a team effort.   That's why, when I ran over my list with my hubby, I kept watching for his face to light up and listening for him to exclaim, "Yes, THAT'S the one!  Instead, what I got was a lot of "Eh, it's ok" and "Might work" opinions on my whole list.  Helpful?  Not!

4.  Do NOT expect the name to come to you in a dream.    Well, in my defense, things HAVE come to me in dreams before but apparently dog names aren't one of them.  Instead, I've been waking up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and then returning to bed and lying there for the next half hour while combination after combination of potential names run through my head.  Aaaaargh!  Turn it off!

5.  Do NOT announce to the world what name you've picked until you have your puppy in hand.  I made the mistake of thinking I had settled on a name and told my family and friends what it was going to be. I had basically picked the name that the majority of my friends liked.  But it was niggling at me and I just didn't feel settled about that name.  So I changed my mind.  I picked another name.  But I'm still having second thoughts (or would that be "third" thoughts?).  I've decided that I'm going to come up with a short list of names and practice calling the puppy those names (in my head) off and on in the coming days.  I'm hoping that one will just feel more right than the rest.

In the meantime, I've come up with some great sources for picking names.  In my next post, I'll share those links with you and also share what methods I use to begin my search for potential names.

Shields Up for a Mental Backwash, Scotty!

I've been taking an anti-depressant for some years now to treat a general anxiety disorder.  The disorder had caused me to worry about almost everything obsessively since I was a small child.  My dad had the same problem.  When my son graduated from college and decided he was heading to the other side of the world, I began to have frequent panic attacks and that's when my doctor prescribed a low-dose anti-depressant targeted for anxiety.  Oh my....it was like a gift from Heaven.  Finally I was able to experience just normal worrying and not be in some endless loop.  It also stopped the panic attacks.  Unfortunately, it also packed on a good thirty pounds on me.

My doctor and I discussed this and I switched from Effexor to Wellbutrin.  For the next year, the pounds rolled off.  I really wasn't doing anything different in my diet but I lost almost 40 pounds.  It was heavenly.  The downside was that the Wellbutrin wasn't giving me any feelings of euphoria like the Effexor had done.  I didn't walk out the door and feel like lifting my arms up to the sky in jubilation nor did I get the frequent feeling that I'd like to just hug someone because I LOVED the whole world.  It just kept me on a flat-line even keel.  So boring.  I missed those peaks of happiness.

So this Spring, I talked to my long-suffering doctor again and told her that I wanted to switch back to Effexor and explained why.  We made the switch.  I waited for the euphoria to arrive.  It never did but the pounds sure showed back up.  Aargh!  Talk about depressing.  Now I'm almost back to what I weighed before I lost all that initial weight.  I decided that if I had to choose between euphoria/overweight and even but blah/healthy weight, I'd rather have the healthy weight.

I asked my doctor if I had to do any special weaning from the Effexor back to the Wellbutrin.  She said that I was on a low-enough dosage that I should be able to just switch immediately.  OK!  However, she also said that I might experience some mental "pings" while my brain was making the transition.

"Pings?" I said.

"Well, she replied, "Some folks feel almost an engagment of gears in their head, like a "ping" as the drug starts to work.

"Um, I have to go to Texas and babysit my grandkids in two weeks," I told her.  "Will I be done pinging by then?"

"Oh, yes," she laughed.  "You'll be fine."

Today, I was changing the sheets on our bed when I suddenly felt a "surge."  Whoa!  What was going on?  My whole body felt prickly.  I glanced down and noticed that my arms were all red, like a Niacin flush.  It wasn't a hot flash.  I've had those and certainly know how they feel.  This was different.  Gee, could it be one of those "pings" that the doctor had mentioned?  I had kind of hoped they would be like little heavenly moments of love, peace, and inspiration.  Uh, nope!

Instead I felt like I could bodyslam an entire Slovakian hockey team which might be a problem since I don't even know how to ice skate.  That's not the point.  I had ENERGY (and a bit of aggression) and I tucked those sheets under the mattress in no time flat.  By the time the bed was made,  the flushing was gone as was the prickly feeling.  Hmmm, I could get used to "pings" like that.  My doctor DID up my dose some on the Wellbutrin.  I wonder if I might end up with a little bit of euphoria now and then when my body finishes making the transition from one drug to the other?  I certainly wouldn't turn it down.  In the meantime, don't get me anywhere near a hockey rink.

Reverse My PIN? Are You Kidding?

A friend of mine mentioned one of those "urban legend" stories today up on Facebook.  It purports that if you are ever forced by a robber to go to an ATM and get cash out, all you have to do is enter your PIN backwards and the bank system sends an automatic alarm to the police who will soon be on their way to help you.  Oh, yes....the ATM will also actually give you your money, recognizing that you are who you are supposed to be but that you are acting under duress.

Um, I don't think so.  My friend had already gone up on Snopes.com to check it out and it was reported to be false.  Apparently this type of system is not in existence.  You can enter your PIN backwards all you want but don't hold your breath for help to arrive because it isn't going to happen.  There WAS someone who did come up with this idea and try to pitch it to the banking industry but it never did fly.  I can understand why.

God forbid I should ever find myself in this type of scenario but if I did, this is how I imagine it would go down.....

Robber:  "Hurry up and get that money out of this ATM!"

Me:  "I'm hurrying.  I'm hurrying.  I just have to remember my darn PIN number."

Robber:  "What's taking so x#%* long?"

Me:  "Please just be patient.  You're making me nervous but I think I remember it now."  (thinking to myself...Oh, my gosh...I have to enter this backwards.  I can't even remember it the normal way.  How in blazes am I going to enter it backwards?  Let's see, do I have to put the 2 first?)

Robber:  "Hurry up or I'll blast you!"

Me:  "DON'T RUSH ME!"

At this point, he will have unwittingly unleashed the full fury of "Dee the Stressed" and, depending on my level of stress, he'll either be decked out cold on the pavement OR I'll be on my way to meet my Maker.  Either way, one thing's for certain.....something that my children learned from an early age....you NEVER try to rush me when I'm stressed.

These Genes Don't Fit

I opened up the paper today and one of the first articles that happened to catch my eye was entitled "Older Dads Pass More Mutations to Offspring."  WHAT?  You have to understand my concern here.  My dad was forty-four years old when I was born and I was the firstborn in our family.  Gee, thanks, Dad, for dilly-dallying around.  It's also ironic that this bit of news came today, the same day that I have mailed off my Ancestry DNA sample to the lab to have my DNA analyzed across the entire familial chromosomal spectrum.

The article goes on to say that older women who give birth are at higher risk of giving birth to a child with a disorder such as Down Syndrome but older men, apparently, are the ones that can pass on genetic mutations contributing to things like autism, schizophrenia, and a whole host of other mutations.  I'm hoping that if I was harboring some genetic time-bomb, it would have made its appearance by now, since I'm past the age of sixty.  At least, that's what the little voices inside my head are telling me.  I WILL, however, be on the lookout for any strange stuff that might pop up in the future, like a sudden desire to eat seafood or a strong compulsion to vote Democrat.

It Was NO Fire Drill!

Yesterday I went to visit Mom in the nursing home and we followed our usual routine.  I signed her out at the nursing station and wheeled her out of her wing and over to the home's library.  We settled down  to enjoy a chat.  I caught her up on the family news and then I pulled out my Kindle and said, "Well, are you ready to do some reading?  I think we left off at the part where Cow #24, who is going to have her calf any day, has failed to turn up at the barn for milking time."

No sooner did I get those words out of my mouth when the blaring sounds of the fire alarm started up and I heard the hall doors slam shut.  For some reason, whenever those alarms go off, every door at the end of every hallway in the place shuts.  I guess it follows the theory of having doors shut between compartments on a ship.  If the ship springs a leak, hopefully the leak will be contained within a small area.

I waited a minute to see if someone would come by saying it was only a test of the alarms but that didn't happen.  Instead staff were running past in the direction of Mom's wing.

"OK, Mom....I guess we'd better head out," I said and I proceeded to push her to the common area on the other side of those dreadfully heavy doors.

One of the staff saw me standing there with her as a steady stream of staff with people in wheelchairs came into the room.

"Should I take her on outside?" I asked.

"No, you two are fine right here.  The problem is back in her wing so this is a secure place to assemble," she answered.

"Well, Mom, let's head over to that little alcove with the sofa and chairs and we'll continue our story," I said as I pushed her into the area.  Oh, boy, there was a flat-screen TV on the wall blaring out old-time music and there was a sign next to it that said, "Do NOT turn off this TV."  On top of that noise, there was an elderly gentleman who had just left the dining room and settled in one of the chairs in the area and HE had an accordian.  He was gaily playing tunes on it, despite the chaos whirling around him.

I started to read as Mom leaned forward, trying to hear what I was saying.  It was impossible.  Firemen had arrived and were loping through the area, a steady stream of wheelchair bound patients were still arriving, and a hard-of-hearing man and his wife had joined us in the alcove and she was trying to give him an update on what was going on.

Just then one of the administrators came and told us all, "Please assemble either in the Chapel or the Recreation Room.  We need to keep this common area clear."

We all started dutifully filing down another hall towards the rooms.  I pulled Mom's wheelchair in behind two staff members who were pushing a patient in a bed.  All of a sudden, WHAM!  I got banged in the back of my legs by a walker.

"Are you going to move or what," a querulous voice asked.

"I can't move until the bed moves in front of me," I tried to explain.  "Everyone is moving slowly.  You'll just have to be patient."

We made our way into the chapel.

"Is everything going to be alright?" one of the residents asked.

"I can't think of a safer place to be," one of the staff replied.

"Amen to that," I answered.  "OK, Mom, let's try to find out where this cow got off to, shall we?"

I began to read again but only got a page or two more into the story when the "all clear" call came and we were directed to return to our rooms so they could do a head count.  Back I wheeled Mom to her room.  As we entered her hall, I jokingly said, "Mom, were you smoking in the bathroom again.?"  The staff walking by, Mom, and I all had a good laugh.

As things settled down, I sat on Mom's bed and started to read the story to her once more.  Oh, oh, there went that blasted fire alarm again.

"Darn," wailed a staff member in the hallway, "we just sent those firemen home."  She saw me poking my head out of Mom's room and advised me to just stay put with Mom until they did a quick investigation.  Soon the alarm went off but by this time the firemen were back and staff were swarming in the hall once more.

"OK, Mom, I'm going to stay here for a little bit longer just to make sure everything is OK but then I'm going to head out.  I don't think Cow #24 is going to have that calf today," I laughed.

Mom laughed, too.  "I don't either, " she said, "but we had our own excitement."

We did indeed.

The Great Dog Crate Cover Caper

 

In my last post, I told you how I had the bright idea to sew a crate cover for the dog crate that will soon be "den" to our West Highland Terrier puppy.  I hadn't had any luck finding a pattern for one so I did a little internet perusing, looked at what's out there, and did some sketching of what I wanted mine to look like.
Armed with my sketch and measurements of each part of the crate (except for the bottom), I headed over to the fabric store and bought my fabric.  My hubby would have taken the measurements and worked out exactly how much fabric to buy.  I just guessed.  I think I ended up getting 3 yards of the black floral fabric, 2 yards of the cream background fabric, and  1 1/2 yards of the burgundy gingham fabric.

Here's how I got it all put together.  This is for a 30"L x 21" W x 24" H dog crate with front door and side door, by the way:

1.  I decided that the cover would consist of a top, a back panel, two door panels, and then one side panel for the side without a door, and two small panels for the side with door which would go on either side of the door.  Both the little side panel to the left of the side door and the one end of the long, unbroken side panel would have to wrap around the front corners so I had to take that into consideration when doing my measuring.

2.  Armed with my measurements, I went upstairs to the cutting table and carefully measured and cut out each piece and then stuck a label on them so I wouldn't get the pieces confused.  So far, so good.  Oh yes, I decided to do a 1/2" seam allowance so I added one inch to each of my measurements.

3.  It was at this point that I realized that I probably would want to line the pieces.  Drat!  I hadn't taken that into consideration at all when buying fabric.  Luckily I have a large fabric stash at home so I was able to come up with additional fabric that would coordinate with what I had chosen.  That meant I had to cut all the pieces out again in the lining fabric this time.  NOW we were ready to get down to business.  I took each piece (except for the Top Panel), put the outer fabric and the lining right-sides together and then stitched around three sides, leaving the top unstitched.  I trimmed corners and seams and turned the pieces right-side out and pressed.  For the Top Panel, I sewed around all the sides, just leaving a little opening to turn it right-side out afterwards.

4.  Next I tackled the door panels.  I decided to add some strips of the gingham fabric on either side of the main cream-colored fabric to give it some pizazz.  Once that was done and the strips were pressed, I again put the lining on top (right-sides together) and sewed around the three sides, leaving the top open.  As before, I turned and pressed.

5.  That brought me to the decorative trim.  I had originally thought that I'd sew it all around the top panel, catching it between the outer fabric and the lining but when I had sewn the Top Panel, that was the only panel that I sewed around all the sides, just leaving a little opening to turn it back right-side out.  I think I had decided that it would get too bulky (and too fussy) trying to attach all of the parts while sewing the top panel to its lining.  So instead, now I took my strips of decorative trim (which I'd already lined) and laid it up at the top of a panel.  I arranged it so that there was a half-inch on either side  for the seam allowance and then trimmed off the excess.  Before I did anything else, I turned my decorative trim strip inside-out and sewed my seam on both ends.  Then I trimmed the seam, turned it back right-side out and pressed.  Now I laid it again on top of the panel, making sure the top edges were flush together and baste stitched through all the layers about 1/8" from the edge.

6.  It was at this point that I realized I might have a little problem.  When I had taken my initial measurements, I had decided how long I wanted the side panels to be, based on attaching them to the top panel with a 1/2" seam allowance.  But since I had modified my approach and already used up the 1/2" seam allowance on the top when I sewed it to the lining, if I then sewed my panels to the top with ANOTHER 1/2" seam, my panels would be 1/2" shorter than I wanted.

Are you with me so far?  Don't worry.  I wasn't even with me at this point.  Well, I thought about it awhile and as I walked around my sewing room, I happened to glance over and notice a roll of binding tape I'd saved from a quilting project from several years ago.  Hmmmm, that just might work.

OK, so I decided to take that binding tape and sew it all around the edge of the top panel (using a 1/4" seam) placing the raw edges of the binding tape to the outer edges of the top panel.  That also ended up killing two birds with one stone because I then didn't have to hand-sew the little opening I'd left on the top panel to turn it right-side out.  I just caught it in my sewing when I attached the binding tape.  Once the tape was attached, I flipped the folded edge outward all the way around and pressed it.

7.  It was time to start attaching the different panels to the top.  I started with the front door panel.  I had decided to use two fabric strips on each end of the panel that would hold the door when it was rolled up.  I had attached these when I had basted the tops while applying the gingham trim.  Now to attach the panel to the top, all I had to do was double-check my measurements to make sure I was placing it at the correct spacing from the corners and then I butted the edges together, laying the door panel edge on TOP of the binding.  I then sewed it to the binding.

8. I repeated this procedure with all of the other panels, attaching them in the following order:  front door panel, back panel, side door panel, left panel on side with door, right panel on side with door, side panel.

9.  When it was all put together, I didn't like how the side panels gapped from the front door panel.  Hmmm, ok, why not attach a button on either side panel and then use the fabric loop to hook over the buttons when the door was down?

I found some buttons that would work and sewed them on lickety-split and then slipped the loops over each button.

Problem solved.  I didn't bother doing anything to attach the side panels to the back panel because there wasn't a bad gap and I like the ability to lift up the back if I want more air in there.

So, here is the finished product.  Notice how I can just roll up the door panels and slip the ends into the fabric loops.  This works with the doors closed and also, I can open the doors with the panels rolled up.  I just lift the roll, open the door and let the roll fall back into place.

Front of crate with door opened

Side of crate with side door panel rolled up

Crate with both door panels down

I'm sure there's a much easier way to do all of this.  As I mentioned before, I tend to take a twisty, convoluted path to a "finished product" or conclusion but I eventually get there. I was always the bane of my math teachers when we'd have to explain how we'd solved a problem.  I would usually have the correct answer but trying to explain how I had arrived at that answer was a journey that few could (or wanted) to follow.

In the meantime, it's finished, the puppies are born, and in 8 weeks little Finnegan will be coming to join our family.  Whee!

Preparing the Nest

As I wait (impatiently, I must admit) for our new puppy to be born, I've started preparing the house for our little one.  It's been over 14 years since we've had a puppy living with us so puppy-proofing is in order.  I'm also starting a new project.  I'll give you a sneak peak.  See if you can figure out what it is going to be.  Here is the fabric I picked out at the store the other day.  I must admit that I hadn't figured on the fact that I probably would want to line this project but I had fabric on hand at home that coordinated, thank goodness.

Today I ironed all of the fabric which I had pre-washed yesterday.  I was a little worried that I might not have enough fabric since I don't have a pattern for this project but since I was able to pull other fabric out of my stash, I think I'll be in good shape.

I took careful measurements and then went upstairs to my cutting board with my freshly ironed fabric and proceeded to cut out my pieces.  As with any project, but especially with one that you are doing by the seat of your pants, I measured each piece and then measured one more time before I cut each piece.  It's so easy to slip up and forget things like seam allowances.

Tonight I started on the trim.  I think it is going to work out ok.  Of course, I only have a vague idea of how I'm going to attach this trim.  I'm more of a "creative - what if...." thinker.  I'm definitely not a spatial thinker so trying to take an idea and turn it into a tangible object is a real challenge for me without a concrete pattern or instructions to follow.

Not to say that I don't have some idea of what I want the finished project to look like.  However, getting to that point is going to be an adventure.  That's why I'm stopping for tonight and heading downstairs to knit and watch a show.  I think I need my mind to be fresh to tackle the next step on this creative endeavor.

I Think I Needed Sub-Titles!

Well, the 2012 Summer Olympics are over and Big Ben is still standing.  London enjoyed fantastic weather and the British were wonderful hosts, from all reports.  I settled down in my recliner with knitting in hand last evening to watch the closing ceremonies but I'm afraid that I didn't get much knitting done.  I was too busy texting back and forth with my brother as we watched the action on our TVs.  Who in the world came up with that stuff?

Normally I'm a big fan of British humor.  I roar at episodes of The IT Crowd.  I like Mr. Bean and any Monty Python routine has me in stitches.  My mom and I loved watching Are You Being Served.  But from the minute the newspaper-covered cars, trucks, buses, and people came out into the arena, they lost me.

My brother said, "I just want to see The Who."

My sister-in-law told us that she figured the directors were just "forward-thinking."  My response was "forward-thinking, my arse."   (My brother tends to bring out the worst in me sometimes.)

The "Stomp" people were fun.  I told my brother that I thought I might incorporate some of their routines into my Monday evening "take out the trash" rituals.  Wouldn't THAT just give the neighbors something to talk about?

Then they came out with a group called The Pet Shop Boys.  They were wearing cones on their heads and looked a lot like the Wicked Witch of the West.

My brother texted me, "It's like I just woke up from a deep sleep and must have missed a lot."

When Annie Lennox came riding out on the ghost ship surrounded by dancing zombies, I texted him back, "All we need now is Captain Jack Sparrow."

Then some lady came out in a leotard and started singing some song I'd never heard before.  The leotard looked like it was covered with blotches of fungus.

I fired off a text to my brother.  "I must have been sleeping as well.  I have no idea who half these people are.  I can see why the Queen decided not to show up."

John Lennon sang on the big screen.  I recognized him.  And then....yay, a Monty Python routine with skating nuns, Victoria's Secret angels, men fired out of cannons, and Eric Idle leading a sing-along.  Good stuff.

Whoops, "Fungus Girl" was back along with guys with stuff on their heads that looked like big donuts.  The Spice Girls made an appearance still looking pretty good.

I found myself wondering what people in other countries around the world were thinking watching this.  If this was their only exposure to British culture, they surely had to be scratching their heads.  The Scots were probably thinking, "Aye, trust the Brits to muck things up."

I could just hear some father in India saying, "Honey, call the travel agency and cancel our tickets to England.  We're not taking the kids THERE this year.  We'll go back to Thailand."

And the clincher?  After spending four hours feeling like I'd fallen down the rabbit hole, the torch was extinguished and the announcer came on to say that the Who would be performing in one hour, after some new TV show premiered.  Say what?  We don't even get to see the Who?

My brother and I sent each other a text.  "Good grief!  Good night!"  Neither of us were staying up.  I'll fire up Pandora or Spotify some other time and enjoy the rousing sounds of the Who.

Nailing It the First Time

I had noticed recently that my nails have become quite dry.  I also noticed that I've developed lots of vertical ridges.  Ugh!  I'd heard once that ridges on your fingernails can indicate certain health problems.  Of course, being the hypochondriac that I am, I had to do a little research to check it out and discovered that, generally speaking, vertical ridges are pretty common and quite a typical development as we age.  Don't you just LOVE all the benefits of aging?  It's when you start noticing horizontal ridges on your fingernails that you might want to point them out to your doctor.

I also did a little poking around to see what products might be out there to help with nail conditioning.  I settled on two different products.  The first was from Bert's Bees, a long-time favorite brand of mine.  It's Burt's Bees Lemon Butter Cuticle Cream.  I rub it into and around my nails each morning.  It's quite light and absorbs quickly into the area.  The second product is Solar Oil from Creative Nail Design.  That's a little heavier duty so I apply that to the base of each nail at bedtime and then rub it on each nail and around the nail area and then work any excess down on my hands.  It's part of my nighttime routine at the sink, after brushing my teeth and cleaning my face.  By the time I go upstairs to crawl into bed, it's pretty much absorbed into the skin.

Boy, have these products made a difference.  My nails no longer are dry-looking at all.  Any hangnails I used to develop are no longer in evidence, either.  Too bad it can't take care of misshapen, arthritic fingers but, hey....you can't have everything, eh?

On a fun note, several years ago Avon used to sell peel-off fingernail polish.  I loved the stuff.  I'm hopeless when it comes to applying fingernail polish out of a bottle.  Sadly, Avon discontinued selling it so I was back to muddling along with bottled polish.  But lately I discovered that peel-off polish is making a comeback.

These are some nails from Sally Hansen.  You get a variety of sizes for each hand and you also get an instruction sheet, fingernail file and little wooden stick to use on your cuticles and to use when applying the nail polish.  It's basically peel and stick on.  You remove them with simple nail polish remover.  When I was at the drugstore the other day, I saw all kinds of fun designs.  I have another set with flowers and little rhinestones just waiting for another week.  Whee!

Enjoy!

And So It Begins!

Those of you who read my blog know that we had to say goodbye to Fresca the Wonder Dog, our faithful American Eskimo dog, this past spring because of severe congenital heart disease.  At the time, I swore I would never have another dog.  But the ensuing months have really shown me just how big a hole her absence has left in my heart and our home.  The house has been SO quiet with just me knocking about in it every day while the Commander is at work.  No little white shadow trailing my every step.  No smiling face looking out the window as I pull into the driveway from running an errand.

I guess that's why I had begun pining for another dog.  I was SERIOUSLY pining by the time my birthday rolled around.  I'd been researching so many breeds and talking with my kids.  I knew I wanted a dog that would be good with other dogs (since I have two granddogs and one grand-cat) and good with kids because of the occasional visits from Spud and Sweet Pea.  The Commander finally agreed that I could have another pet but he wanted a smaller dog, one that didn't shed as much as Fresca, and one that was friendlier to other people.

In the meantime, my friend Judy was looking for another dog to add to her family.  She already has a cute-as-a button West Highland Terrier named Sadie.  I had been considering getting a rescue greyhound (now out of the running since the Commander didn't want "big"), Havanese, or poodle mix dogs.  Judy had been advocating Westies to me.    When Judy mentioned that her breeder had some adult females available for adoption and that she was going to drive up with Sadie to see if there might be one that would be a good match as a sibling for her dog, I jumped at the chance to go along with her.

I had also promised the Commander that I would NOT bring a new dog into our home until after my trip to Texas in September.  Well, this ruled out my adopting one of the adult females.  However, in my own communication with Judy's breeder, I found out that a litter of puppies was soon to be born and would be available to go home in October.  The timing would be perfect.

That's how we found ourselves making the LONG drive to the breeder outside of Punxsutawney, PA the other day.  It couldn't have been a nicer day with cool temperatures, blue skies and no humidity.  Oh, Abercrombie!  To make a long story short, there was only one adult female left who hadn't yet been adopted but she didn't seem very interested in Judy or Sadie.  There were two more families coming to see her so I think there is a good chance that she found her forever home.  Judy, on the other hand, has decided to get a puppy from the same litter that I'll be getting my puppy from.  Yay, we will have siblings.

On the way home, we stopped in Punxsutawney to have a picnic in the little town park.  The library is right next to the park and the famous Punxsutawney Phil, the groundhog lives at the library.

This is all we could see of Phil, who must have a "Mrs." because there were two of them in the burrow.  What is extra cool is that there is also a big picture window inside the library in the children's section where the kiddos can watch the groundhogs while they are visiting the library.

Speaking of watching groundhogs, Judy's granddaughter and Sadie were certainly enjoying watching those two critters.  I think we were all hopeful that they'd wake up and do something.

They never DID do anything but snore so instead we just posed for pics to prove that we'd actually seen a famous groundhog.

Luckily there was a statue of "Phil" that was a little more cooperative when it came to posing for pictures that  looked more interesting.  As a side note, if you ever find yourself in Punxsatawney, PA, stop by the library and check out Phil.  If it's a nice day, have a picnic.  There are benches scattered about in the park if you don't feel like sitting on the ground.  Bathrooms are in the library and it's a nice library worth checking out also.

So now the waiting begins.  The pups are due to be born in about a week.  At five weeks we can go up there and have first pick of which ones we want.  I'm hoping for a male and Judy is hoping for a female.  I'll be in Texas at the five week point so most likely Judy or the breeder will have to pick one for me unless the Commander wants to go up there with Judy and do the picking.  What I'm busy doing now is picking a name.  Oh, boy....is that fun.  But that's a subject for another blog post.