Here we go again!

I try not to complain about work. What's the point? We all have our headaches and challenges. But if you're wondering about the title of this post, it refers to something I've been through once or twice before in my career.

My job is soon going to disappear. It's a long story, but after over 6 years with this hospital network, they've decided they need to do cutbacks and they can live without me. I was just promoted from my hospital VP job to a corporate position a few months ago. At the time, I knew that might not be good. They have a well-known history of moving people to corporate and then moving them out. In my case, the position was brand new. So when they decided to make cuts (because they're losing huge amounts of money), I figured this was a major risk. "We didn't have that job before this year. Do we really need it now?"

So I have a couple of weeks left, and then off I go. Knowing it's coming, I've been reaching out to contacts and floating my resume for jobs that look interesting. I have one place that actually looks like a good place to work with a job I'd enjoy. I've been through a telephone interview and an in-person interview by a panel of five management people from that organization. It seemed to go well, and I hear I'll make it to the next round. But I also have no idea how many other candidates are going to that round, too, so I'm trying not to get my hopes up.

So maybe I won't be unemployed for long, or maybe this will go on for a while. But this is why Marc and I are careful with our money. Yes, we have our trips and enjoy various fun things, but before we get to such "disposable income" things, we set aside money for savings, make extra payments on our mortgage, etc.  Friends may think we spend all we get, because we try to splurge on friends (like the barbecue we're doing for our Gotham rugby mates this weekend), but we actually are pretty careful. So if I'm out for a while, we'll cut spending and be even more careful, and we should be okay for a while!

With that said... think good thoughts for me!

Skidding in sideways...

There's a saying that life isn't about finishing in a well-preserved body. Rather, the smart way is to go skidding into the grave sideways, thoroughly worn out and finishing with the thought, "wow, what a ride!"

That's a wise view. When we were at my alma mater for my 25-year reunion (and where did those years go?!) a few weeks ago, our last event was a lovely brunch on Sunday morning. We sat with two older couples. They were from the class of 1958, so 55 years past their graduation.

These people were busy, engaged in current events, active (they were talking about going kayaking) and seemed to be living life to the fullest. They really were inspiring. No one can say how long anybody's stay here on Earth will last, but these people were a reminder that age is just a number. If you have good health, then the rest is up to you. Live your life! Enjoy the days you have, and at the end skid in sideways, exhausted and marveling at what a ride you had!

Internal clocks

I know people who can wake up at a certain time without an alarm. I've seen all kinds of excellent grasps on time that didn't require a timepiece. But what really amazes me is how a dog--Dodger, in this instance--without cues that I can see, is able to tell time with pretty good precision.

He will ask for certain things to happen at the same time every day. A few minutes ago, he went over to Marc and made clear he wanted something. Marc and Dodger can go through a question-and-answer thing where Marc will ask if he wants things and he'll bark when Marc gets to the right one.

Marc was starting the question session, but then Marc turned to me and asked, "what time is it?" I told him it was 9:09. At that, Marc knew Dodger was ready for his treats. Dodger calls for biscuits at 9:0something every night. Most nights, the demand hits at 9:03 or 9:04, but it can vary a few minutes.

How can he tell? Nothing else he does is anywhere close to this time, so he's not judging one off the other. And we don't watch the same shows each night. In fact, lots of nights, we don't even watch TV, and tonight we'd put in a DVD.

We make a mistake when we underestimate the skills and intelligence of non-human animals. Dodger reminds me of that often enough!

A new hobby

If you know me at all, you know that I love photography. In fact, I've loved it since I was a little boy, and I continue to consider it my main avocation.

But recently, I've felt the itch to try something new. I love music. I can't sing to save my life, but I love music. In school, I played the alto saxophone, but that was long ago. More to the point, I don't want to try that again. Instead, I got the idea that I might like to learn how to play guitar. That's why the item you see below (at least I think it's below--I'm doing this from the iPad app, and I'm not certain where the photo will appear) is on my desk at work. I know, that's not a guitar. Just as well, since I doubt playing the guitar at work would be considered productive.

No, that's a device to exercise my fingers when I'm on calls or doing something else that would leave my hands free. It seems one must press down rather firmly on guitar strings to make chords sound right. They have to be pressed all the way to the neck of the guitar and contact the wood. Believe it or not, it's not as easy as it sounds. So I'm doing finger exercises.

Other challenges include pressing one string without touching the one next to it. Again, unless you have skinny fingers, this isn't easy! Also, it seems I need to develop calluses on my fingertips. Soft fingertips don't work too well for guitar playing.

I just started, so I have lots to learn, but I'm trying! At some point, I'll need to take lessons from someone. In the meantime, I'm trying to learn some basics. Hey, it keeps me off the streets at night! ;-)

Such a bad blogger!

I keep telling people that blogging is a superior format, at least in terms of quality, to things like Facebook. Blogging allows for the recording of more thoughts and a far easier way to look back and review life events.

With that said, I intend to make a real effort at being a better blogger. I do enjoy my blog, and I need to share more!

More snowstorm photos

So let's go to the morning after the storm. Having been out in the Explorer the night before somewhat limited the amount of snow built up on it...

Well, the clean windshield is because I'd used the remote start before I walked outside. That let it warm up some, so the snow could be pushed off easily.

I usually clean the walks in front of our house and our neighbors' houses, but a neighbor down the street did the first pass with a large snowblower he has. I still had plenty of work to do, but that first pass helped! This is after I'd done more work...

Then I had to clear the way to the front steps...

See someone supervising the operation? Here's a closer look...

Our street was a mess, but everyone was out, cleaning around their homes. The plows got around to the street later!

The main street got cleaned sooner, fortunately...

I guess that's it! I hope you enjoyed the photos!

Some storm photos

I took some photos during and after our recent snowstorm. I thought you'd like to see a few. First, I'll post a few from when the storm was first starting...

That's what it looked like on my drive home. Yes, I took a photo while driving! I had the DSLR on the seat next to me and picked it up to snap a quick shot through the windshield at a relatively calm moment.

Later, after I got home, Marc and I went back out to do a little shopping before things got really bad. We cut through Eisenhower Park on the way back...

It was getting a little messy. The snow was even starting to stick to the signs...

After we were back home, we watched the storm's progress. It picked up slowly, but by late evening, we already could see more coming down...

That's in the back yard.

But business must go on...

It may be easier to tell the rate of snowfall from the evidence left on someone after his quick visit to the yard...

That's it for now!

Weighty matters

I got a recent reminder that I haven't posted in a long time. So let me get things back on track and share an interesting development.

I've battled my weight for most of my life. I'd lost a lot before I met Marc, and this poor saint I married is stuck with a fat guy now. Luckily for me, he loves me, and it seems to go beyond my appearance! Still, for him--and for my health and personal happiness--I continue to try to lose weight.

I'd have my bad days, of course, but I'd also have lots of good days. On those good days, I'd stay below about 1,950 calories. I got that number from an online site, where I'd entered my height, weight, age, body type and activity level. Of course, that's a guess at best.

Fast forward to last Monday. I went for my annual physical with a new internist. One of the things she offered was a test, using a machine called the ReeVue Indirect Calorimeter. I spent about 10 or 12 minutes breathing into a tube, while the machine made its measurements. I gather it's watching how much CO2 I produce, but that's just a guess. In any case, it gave a reading of how many calories I burned just sitting there, as well as giving eating ranges for maintaining weight or losing weight. It also said what level I shouldn't go below.

That's what was really interesting. The machine said I shouldn't eat less than 2,167 calories a day. The doctor explained that eating below that level would cause my metabolism to slow down, so my dieting would be self-defeating. I might lose but only slowly, and so I'd be certain to get frustrated and stop trying. So I learned that my efforts--and yes, this fat guy really can buckle down and be disciplined--were for naught.

The doctor and her machine said that my proper weight loss range would be a daily total between 2,167 and 2,707 calories. Seriously, doc? That seems almost too good to be true. But who am I to argue? So I picked a number about mid-range. I set my daily target at 2,450 calories. Could this possibly work?

It's a week later, and I'm four pounds lighter. Well, what do you know about that? I guess I'll keep trying!

Post-Hurricane Sandy gasoline situation

We filled our gas tanks before the storm hit, but I don't think either of us imagined things would get to this point. When I went out the door yesterday, I saw this at our closest corner:



Was this an epidemic of bad parking? No, I figured it probably was a gas line, but there are no gas stations on this street. And the line didn't stop here. It went for blocks beyond this.

So I went for a drive to investigate (and run some errands). Sure enough, the line went up to the next major intersection, around the corner and for blocks to the next gas station. Overall, the line was about 3/4 of a mile long! That's on top of all the people standing at the station with gas cans for generators! This is madness!

At the gas station in question:

And down the road from there:

Same thing at another gas station down the road, with a big line backing into a bowling alley parking lot.

I have a long commute to the hospital every day. I hope this ends soon!

Catching up

So much has happened since I last posted, so let's catch up a little. Recently, I learned of a working poultry farm down a back road not far from my office. I went and checked it out, and we're now hooked on their eggs. You might think "an egg's an egg," but farm-fresh eggs are amazing! Since he'd only heard about the farm (and enjoyed its products), Marc went with me to see if for himself a few Saturdays ago. While there, I took a few photos:
 
This is where we go to buy the eggs, chicken breasts, etc.

 
One of the places where the chickens hang out

 
Some peacocks are hanging out in here It's a nice little farm, and I like that we can see the birds wandering the grounds. So I know they're truly cage-free. They've got more space to wander than I do here at home! 

In other non-news, here are some photos of my boys out for a walk that weekend:
   
Most walks with Dodger include a lot of stops, either for rest or sniffing!


 
My boys, as they return home

And for the last bit from that weekend (by the way, this was 3 weeks ago), a couple of photos from a local bakery called Sweet Karma. We were going to visit some friends, and we said we'd bring dessert. When Marc isn't up for making something (sometimes we're just too busy!), this is one of our favorite places to go:


We got the Banana Cream Pie (middle shelf on the right)


The pie was fabulous, of course! All in all, that was a good weekend!

A remembrance from elections past

I miss the old days of serious campaigning going on right here at home: Take a look!

July?

I haven't posted anything since July? That's just wrong! Okay, I'll work on this. Sorry, blog!

A quick review of a good, entertaining book

Prince Of Fire by Daniel Silva
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I've liked every Daniel Silva book I've read. I only just got to Prince of Fire, as I'm going back and reading any of the ones I missed over the years. This is one of his better books.

Mr. Silva is a terrific writer, but saying that just isn't enough. He has a level of insight and empathy that sadly eludes most authors of this genre. While his heroes are Israelis fighting to defend their country and other innocents against terrorists, he doesn't make them purely good, and he doesn't paint the terrorists as pure evil. He does show the evil of the terrorists' acts, but he recognizes and acknowledges the wrongs their people have suffered that sowed the seeds of their extremism and hatred.

Prince of Fire is an entertaining, page-turning read, and it also provides food for thought. That's not a common combination! I highly recommend it!

View all my reviews

Bernice & Mandy touched the hearts of everyone they met

We knew that Bernice and Mandy won over everyone they met. Our girls were special. I know everyone feels that way about their dogs, but people who had met them would go out of their way to ask about them and it was clear to us that they really made a great impression and brightened the world.

Now, a sympathy card from the vet can ordinarily be seen as their standard procedure, but I don't think it's standard for it to look like this...

Go ahead and click on that photo, so you can read those notes. If what really matters in life is how you touch the hearts of those around you, then there's confirmation of just how special our girls really were!

The hidden intelligence of dogs

Another Bernice memory came to mind today. While cleaning up, we found a couple of old 3.5-inch computer discs. This brought to mind something Bernice did early in her days with us, back when she was an only child.

I had received anti-virus software in the mail, and it came on a big stack of discs (maybe 10 or 12 of them). They were sitting on the coffee table when we went to work one day. Apparently, Bernice was bored, so she decided to take them apart. A bored dog chewing up something in the house isn't particularly noteworthy, but here's where it gets interesting.

Apparently, such discs have a variety of parts in them. There's the plastic case, of course, and the sliding metal part on the outside. Then inside there are other parts, like a little spring, a fabric piece, the circular disc of recording media itself and probably some other things I've forgotten.

Yes, Bernice had chewed them apart, but what we found was:

A pile of plastic casing pieces.

A pile of metal sliding pieces.

A pile of little springs.

A pile of internal plastic discs.

Every component was sorted and piled together. No one else had been in the house. The alarm system was armed, the doors locked. There was no other explanation. Our silly, young dog did this.

I don't think many people know that story. It's not one we shared too often, but we remember it well. We humans tend to think of dogs as relatively simple creatures, largely because of their inability to communicate with language, but I've often wished I could know what really goes on in their minds. They're probably far more complex than we can comprehend!

Mandy's U2 song

Did you know that U2 did a song about Mandy? If you've been reading this blog or ever visited us over the past 12+ years, you probably noted that Mandy's chief (among many) nickname was Moosedog.

Mandy Moosedog

Mandy could be an enigma at times, of course in adorable ways, but still. Anyhow, I told Marc today that her U2 song was stuck in my head. That, of course, is the well known song, Mooseterious Ways. This came after the many times that I told Marc, when Mandy had been somewhat enigmatic, that she moves in Mooseterious ways.

It's not easy at times like this, when so many famous bands have written song after song about your dogs! And now, a couple more photos of our beautiful pup...

Rest in peace, baby. I'm crying as I type this. I miss you and Bernice so much!

Remembering Vanna Black

In Alan Alda's autobiography, he warned readers to never have their dog stuffed. Sound advice, I think.

I can tell you one other thing worth avoiding--although it's much harder to avoid in my case--and that's using your dogs' names in various plays on words. I can't listen to most songs right now, because I have Bernice and/or Mandy's names, or nicknames, worked into them. Yes, I've always been that kind of smitten dog person. I fall in love with my pups, and this is what happens. (If you're wondering, I do this with Marc's name/nicknames, too.)

Just flipping on the TV for a mindless diversion (Wheel of Fortune) hurt tonight. For one thing, when it comes on, they introduce, as I'm sure you know, Pat Sajak and Vanna White. But around here, it would be "Pat Sajak and Vanna Black." Vanna Black was one of the many nicknames of my girl Bernice.

Ms. Black, not even four months ago

And then we get to the commercials. There's one for a service called "Coupon Suzy." I can't stand the ever-so-bubbly character in their commercial, but I'd always coped with that by engaging in silliness with Ms. Mandy Moosedog, or, as she would be known at such moments, Coupon Moosie. She would give me one of her looks, and that would bring a smile.

Now, it's all salt in two gaping wounds.

Yes, the happy memories will eventually overcome this pain. I know that. But for now, well... Eh, it's who I am. Dodger is at my feet as I'm typing this, and I call him by silly names all the time. So be it.

Thanks for listening, folks. It has been therapeutic. Now I'm going to go cuddle with a dog, whether he likes it or not!

Dodger's really a dog after all?

I wouldn't for one second suggest that there's anything good about our losing the girls. It has been devastating for us, and we've even observed Dodger having nightmares (he never was the type to growl and bark in his sleep--we hope it's helping him work out his grief).

But some interesting things have happened in the past few days. We threw out Mandy's ball, because it was just too crushing to look at it lying there, while the girl it belonged to had departed this life. When they played together, Dodger would grab it to play a sort of keep-away game when all three of them went after it, but he was never interested in playing ball himself.

The day after Mandy died, I found a new tennis ball, still in its wrapper, in the closet. I unwrapped it and asked if he wanted it. Not only did he want it, but he chased it when I threw it and brought it back to me. This type of canine behavior was never in Dodger's repertoire!

Then today, a friend at work who was hurting for us brought me a bag. In it was a big, fuzzy bone-shaped dog toy and some treats, along with a card:

Jess,
A little something to help lift the poochie's spirits.
Sorry for your loss!
Pat


I thanked her repeatedly for her thoughtfulness (it was very thoughtful and really touched me!), and I brought the bag home. This evening, not only has Dodger taken an interest in the toy but he actually was using it to play tug-of-war with Marc.

After all these years, Dodger turns out to be a dog?? I suppose so. I actually had wondered, from time to time, if his behavior would change when the girls were gone--figuring, based on ages and health issues, that this day would come someday. Sure enough, it has. The kids spent a lot of time competing with each other, trying to show who was in charge, etc.  They never even threatened to hurt each other, but they were like competitive siblings.

So now, it appears that he can just relax and be a dog. Considering how we got here, I certainly have very mixed emotions about it. But if we had to lose Bernice and Mandy--and that definitely was beyond our power to fix--at least if he can have some of the puppyhood he never got to enjoy, then that's a good thing.

Goodbye, Mandy!

Not even six weeks after losing our beloved Bernice, we've now lost our other girl. Mandy, the puppy we adopted for Bernice to raise, is gone. Bernice did a wonderful job raising her puppy, and they both brought such joy to our lives. Now they're gone. I hope their spirits live on, together in a better place. I hope they and my parents are in a wonderful place together where Marc, Dodger and I will get to see them again someday.

For now, some photos to remember the beautiful girl we just lost.


This one really is the best. It's what I hope the girls are doing now, as my parents watch and smile!


She was about 5 years old here. She always loved the snow!


She had the most beautiful fur. When she was freshly bathed, she shined! And her coat felt like a mink!


Did I mention that she loved the snow?


She also loved playing with a ball. Here, she's challenging Patrick in his own home in Vermont!

And here, hanging out with another friend named Patrick. As you can see, Mandy was always nice enough to let friends share her furniture!

No stick stood a chance against her! This was one of her favorite pastimes.

I'll stop there for now. I don't want to overload you on photos of the beautiful girl. Besides, I can save some for another day!

There's another dog

This post may make you think I'm a complete flake, but it's an accurate report. Granted, the meaning is subject to interpretation, but... well, here goes...

For years, there has been a dog hidden in our bathroom ceiling. I know that sounds weird. Here's how it works. While showering, once the ceiling outside the shower gets steamed up, there's what appears to be the image of a dog's face that emerges there. Yes, I always figured it was a quirk of the paint (as opposed to the spirit of some family dog visiting us on a daily basis).

Then came today. This afternoon, we were in the shower, and at some point in things, I looked up and saw something. Marc saw the look on my face and knew something was up.

Marc: What?

Me: There's another dog.

Marc: Huh?

Me: On the ceiling. There's another dog.

Marc looked where I was looking, to the right of the dog image we knew about, and then he saw it. There was another one there. Perhaps just another quirk in the paint and how condensation collects there.

But he added exactly what I was thinking: "It looks like Bernice."

And it does. Not just a dog, but a dog that looks like our Bernice.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just condensation from shower steam on ceiling paint. Maybe that's all it means when we suddenly, after all these years, see this... an image that looks like the dog we've been mourning for the past few weeks. Maybe, or maybe it means more than that.