A Day At The Track

Every year, Laura and I have two Christmases, one at my parents and one at her parents.  This year, we decided to do things with my family a little differently.  We invited my folks and my sister and her husband over to our house for Christmas.  While the day overall went well, the days leading up to it on the other hand won’t go down in history as “The Best Of…”
 
Let me start out by saying that our house will never be on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens.  On a daily basis, Mason will remove all the toys from his toy box and scatter them throughout the house.  It is a challenge just to keep everything picked up.  It feels like a small tornado passes through the house everyday.  I really hate stepping on those sharp little toys with my bare feet.  I do not know how Mason can scatter his wooden blocks across the floor then run across them, OUCH!  I have, on several occasions, stepped on one only to crumple to the floor in agonizing pain.  We needed to do a lot of cleaning before everyone showed up Sunday.  For whatever reason, four days before the big event, “we” decided to paint the dining room to cover up all the crayon that Mason has been adding to the walls (although, if you were to ask Laura, it was all my idea).  As it turned out, not all the crayons were washable.  Oops!  Anyway, as usual with projects around our house, it turned into a bigger job than we anticipated. 
 
An activity that Mason enjoys in his free time is tearing little bits of wallpaper off in the dining room.  Therefore, all the wallpaper needed to be removed before painting.  So the simple task of painting turned into removing wallpaper that was attached with super strength wallpaper adhesive.  It took both Laura and I two days to get it all off.  At this point we have two days left to get the room painted and get the house cleaned.  We started Thursday evening, after Mason went to bed for obvious reasons, priming the walls since we assumed that the wax from the crayons would not allow the paint to stick to the walls very well.  Laura had bought some quick drying primer that was supposed to dry in one hour thinking that we would be able to prime and get the first coat of the final paint on the same night.  That came back to bite us.  After two hours, the primer was still wet!  Silly me, I stayed up until two in the morning waiting for the primer to dry and getting the first coat of paint on the walls. 
 
Friday, Laura spent most of the day cleaning instead of painting because we do not really need painted hand prints of Mason in every room of the house.  So, again after Mason went to bed, we started painting.  Another late night for me.  Nothing like a couple nights in a row with a few hours sleep each to be bright eyed and bushy tailed at work.  Saturday rolls around and we took Mason to the work sponsored children’s Christmas party which took most of the morning.  We still have a lot of cleaning to do and not much time left.  When we get home I start picking up the living and dining rooms putting Mason’s toys back in his toy box for the um-teenth time.  Unfortunately, Mason was more help than I needed.  Each and every toy I put away, he absolutely had to play with and removed each one only to discard it on the floor when the next toy showed up.  One step forward, two steps back.  Laura and I got done cleaning about midnight and I still had to assemble one of Mason’s toys.
 
Laura and I got Mason one of those spring mounted riding horses this year and the directions left a lot to be desired.  Either that or my mental comprehension was severely compromised due to the several days of very little sleep.  It took me like an hour and a half with a bit of cursing to get the stupid thing put together.  The really sad part was it only took eight bolts and two screws.  Not one of my proudest moments.  Yet, another two am bedtime.
 
Sunday morning, Laura and I got up early to get the turkey in the oven and prepare lunch for everyone.  It would be a bit of an understatement to say that Laura and I were both very grumpy.  I was in charge of boiling the eggs and peeling them to make deviled eggs.  A simple task for most people and one that I have done many times before.  I somehow managed to screw it up.  When the eggs cooled down enough to peel, it all went downhill.  The first egg ended up taking most of the white part with the shell, okay, sometimes fresh eggs will do that.  As I continued peeling, each egg got progressively more difficult to peel and my frustration began to increase.  The fourteenth egg broke in half.  That is when I saw that they were not fully cooked.  @%^*!!!!!  I just ruined two dozen eggs!  I usually do not get terribly upset over stuff like that but I think the lack of sleep erased any patience that I may have had.  I head to the living room to cool off a little bit, and there was Mason, taking all the toys out of his toy box…again.  Instead of blowing up at him, I just turned around, walked out to the truck and drove to town for something…anything…it didn’t matter.  While I was gone, Laura boiled more eggs which turned out great.  The difference, she turned the right burner on!  I had turned off the burner to put the eggs in so the boiling water would not splash up on my hands.  I apparently turned the wrong burner back on.  I am going to blame the lack of sleep again; it’s such a convenient excuse.
 
When my folks arrived, they came with lots of presents, many of which were for Mason.  Apparently, one of many benefits to being a grandparent is being able to terribly spoil the grandchild.  The presents got sat down and Mason immediately ran over to the largest one and started ripping the paper off.  After a bit of crying for being told that he would have to wait to open them, he went back to emptying his toy box.  I can only imagine he was thinking, “I will show them by making a huge mess in the middle of the living room”.  
 
After lunch, it was time to open presents.  Last Christmas, Mason was not really old enough to understand that there are toys inside the paper.  This year, however, was a different story.  The first gift that he opened was from my sister and her husband.  It was a large John Deere tractor.  It could not have been a worse gift to start with.  He lost all interest in all the other presents he had sitting in front of him.  That toy had to be played with RIGHT NOW!!  We had to get it out of the box and let him play with it for a while before he would even touch another present.  The next gift was again from my sister and turned out to be a wagon that went with the tractor.  That put an end to opening presents for a while.  Once all the adults finished opening their gifts, I went and got the horse I had worked on assembling so hard the night before.  When Mason saw what I was carrying…“what tractor?”  He immediately climbed on and had a blast.  He did, however, have to take a short break after it bucked him off.  It must have been the saddle because it got removed and he rode bareback.  It was great to see him enjoy it so much.
 
If I didn’t know better, I think Laura invited everyone over for Christmas this year just so she could talk me into painting the dining room.  Laura has told me that I am crazy for even thinking that, but it’s a little hard to believe, especially when she says it with a smirk on her face.

Mid last week, all the weather stations were calling for a huge snow storm to hit the area the first part of this week.  I do not really put much stock into the weather reports because they are usually wrong anyway.  They were calling for 8-16 inches of snow then strong winds to blow everything around.  I thought, it’s the first real snow of the season so it probably will not be as bad as the weather reports say it is going to be.  A slight mis-calculation on my part.

Tuesday, I headed to work like any other day.  The snow was supposed to start sometime midmorning.  I am fortunate to have a good view of the interstate out the large windows at work.  As the morning went on, it began snowing, and blowing.  By noon, I could barely see the interstate but could discern that is was crawling.  I got an email from one of my coworkers that the interstate had been closed due to an accident.  Looks like I would be taking another route home.  I, along with many other people, decided it would be better to leave work a little early and get home before rush hour.  As I have a 30 mile drive, it was decision I was glad I made.  An hour and a half later, I pull into the driveway, safe at home.

Laura had gone to the store the night before, so we were set to be snowed in if it came to that.  I set my alarm to go off at four am Wednesday morning so I could plow out the driveway and get to work in time for a seven am meeting.  My hope of making it to work quickly disappeared when I opened the back door to let the dog outside.  A knee deep drift…glad the door opens in!  Well, I certainly couldn’t throw the dog outside until I had scooped an area clear.  Since our Min Pin does not even come up to my knee, there is no way he was headed outside.  I went upstairs to get my socks and a long sleeved shirt and headed back down to put on my shoes and coat.  I had to go back upstairs after stepping in Hyde’s ‘accident’ in my clean socks.  Apparently, he really didn’t want to go outside.

As soon as I stepped outside, I instantly realized, there was NO WAY I was getting to work.  We live out in the country, and the wind had blown some huge drifts overnight.  With the wind gusting at fifty miles per hour, white out conditions, and snow forecasted to continue all day, I decided to work from home.  As the day continued, the drifts continued to grow and bury both vehicles sitting in the driveway.  By the time it was all said and done.  We got over a foot of snow, although the wind piled it up into six to eight foot drifts. 

Me, liking to drive around in the snow, especially with a four wheel drive truck, headed out Wednesday evening to see the new winter wonderland.  Laura decided to go with me but I had to promise not to do anything crazy and if I got us stuck, I would be the one to walk back to the house to get the tractor.  Ha…silly wife…the whole point of four wheel drive is to see just how far in the ditch you can get buried!  OK, so not really with Mason in the truck, I had to behave myself.  I think that is half the reason she wanted to go, to make sure I kept the wheels pointed down.  I headed west and came to a large drift that didn’t look that big so I drove right into it.  Well, it turns out to be a little bigger than I thought.  As the truck entered the drift, we quickly realized that it was taller than the hood.  Snow completely covered the windshield…I couldn’t see anything and Mason is in the back seat with his arms above his head yelling WHEEEEEEEEE like he was on a roller coaster!  Knowing that stopping would only result in one stuck truck in the middle of the drift, I just looked out the driver’s side window with my foot smashed on the gas pedal until I saw gravel again.  This looks like a good place to stop.

Once Laura got done glaring at me, I stepped out to clear the grill of snow and see what the road ahead looked like while the drift melted off the windshield.  I started walking up the road a ways and once the snow got over knee deep, decided we had better turn around.  After a twenty-five point turn on that narrow gravel road, we drove back through the hole we just made in the drift and headed north.  Less than a quarter mile later, we had to turn around again.  This time Laura stopped me before I drove haphazardly into another large drift.  South was no good, there was yet another large drift Laura wouldn’t let me drive through.  I was so disappointed.  All these wonderful drifts and I can’t even drive through them.

West, north, south, all blocked…there is only one direction left.  I headed east toward the paved road which was only a mile away.  So close, yet so far away.  Despite the protests from the passenger seat with every drift we plowed through and all the wheeee’s from the backseat, we actually made it to the road.  The truck got a little sideways a couple times, but apparently from the passenger seat, angles get a little exaggerated.  I say a little, she says “HOLY @#%&!!”  After another bombardment of glares, we headed to a small town just to the north to get gas and allow Laura to take some pictures.  It was a really neat drive.  Getting back home was just as interesting as getting out since all the drifts reformed while we were in town.  You couldn’t tell we had driven through them not twenty minutes earlier.  More glaring while finally sitting in the driveway.  All I could say was, “what, we didn’t get stuck did we?”

When Laura and I moved into our current house three years ago, we inherited a very old outside dog named Bubba.  Last July, I had to go on a business trip to Dubnica nad Vahom, Slovakia for a week and Bubba died while I was gone.  Laura was a trooper for taking him to the vet to be cremated per the wish of the previous owner.  Laura and I had talked about getting another outside dog but decided to wait until spring since the winters here can be quite cold.

Around the end of February this year, Laura saw an ad in the paper for Blue Heeler puppies for sale.  We decided to go have a look.  By the time we left the breeder, we had decided on two, one red and one black.  I wanted the red one and Laura wanted the black one.  I creatively named my dog Red, and Laura named hers Buddy.  Red was the smart dominate dog and Buddy…well, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but still a good dog.  Unfortunately, they didn’t like to stick around home, so during the day they would be shut in an outside kennel with a fairly good sized fenced in run.  When I would get home from work, I would let them out to run around and play, and work on teaching them some of the basic commands like “come”, “sit”, “stay”, etc.  Before I went to bed, I would put them back in the kennel for the night.

Fast forward to Thursday of this week.  The day started out with snow in the forecast and the weather did not disappoint.  Being the first snow fall of the season, the roads were like sheets of ice and most drivers have not adapted their driving skill to the slick conditions.  I counted at least a dozen cars in the ditch on my way home.  I was very glad for four wheel drive that day.  Anyway, when I get home, I head over to let the dogs out and make sure the heater in their water was working.  As I am walking toward the kennel, I only see Bubby which is a little strange since Red usually bowls him over getting to the gate.  As I get closer I see Red lying on the ground covered in snow.  Apparently, he died sometime in the morning.  I have no idea what the cause of his death was since he showed no signs of distress that night.  So, I am a little bummed, but there is not a lot I can do about it other than bury him and move on.

Not all is lost, however, because sometimes the world works in mysterious ways.  Over Thanksgiving, Laura went down to her folks and stayed for several days.  I made a one day trip out of it since all of my family was here for Thanksgiving.  I get a message from her asking if I would be interested in adopting a two year old female Miniature Pinscher from someone she knew.  After some discussion, we both decided to go ahead with bringing her home.  We already own a male chocolate and tan Miniature Pinscher and fully understand the challenges of owning Min Pins.  So Tuesday, she shows up with a rust colored Min Pin named Tootsie.  I went out to the car to help carry stuff to the house, including Tootsie.  I found out one very important detail, that dog DOES NOT like me.  I am not being dramatic here either.  I actually had to put on my leather work gloves to carry the kennel to the house.  She did NOT want me touching her cage. 

At first, I was concerned that Tootsie was an aggressive dog and wondered how she would act toward Mason, Laura and our other Min Pin named Hyde.  To my complete disbelieve, Tootsie cannot be more mild mannered towards them.  It is apparently only me that she has a problem with.  I have seen Mason grab Tootsie’s ear and give a tug.  Tootsie just turns, gives him a look and goes back to sleep. 

Tootsie has now been with us for three days and only bit me twice.  She is getting better though, now she only bares her teeth and growls when I pass by instead of lunging at me.  Life’s little victories I guess.  Tonight I tried bribing Tootsie into getting close to me with a dog treat.  The first one got tossed on the floor in front of me without incident.  I had to test the waters first.  She came up slowly, grabbed the treat and retreated to a ‘safe’ distance.  The next treat I held in my fingers, which of course she bit as she was going for it, which, I classified as an accident and tried again.  The third treat, she had to growl on the approach but did not bite.  Now we’re making progress.

I am hoping with a little more time, Tootsie will warm up to me and not find it necessary to tear my leg off every chance she gets.  I know Laura is also waiting for the day that Tootsie will come to me, since, right now, Laura is the only one that can let the dog outside.  She will not come back to the house with me standing in the doorway.  This has been a tough week, losing one dog, and gaining another dog that is not too fond of me.  It is said that time heals all wounds, including the bite mark on my finger.