The Traveling Twit on Tour, Part I

I had a judging assignment in Longview, WA., last weekend, flying into Portland.  I'm actually one of those people who don't mind traveling alone a bit.  In fact, I enjoy it.  Everything is a new adventure for me, I'll talk to practically anyone, and I seem to be lacking any type of an embarrassment or shyness gene.

I landed in Portland and as I came out of security, both sides of the hallway were lined with with men and women holding American flags, posters, and placards.  As I walked through I asked one of them what was going on.  And he replied, "An Honor Flight."  

The first part of the lineup was a Vet's Harley rider's group with their members lining about 15 on each side with their color guard.  Then came other VFW members, some civilians, boy scouts, etc.
I got about halfway to the rental cars, then I turned around and went back.  I didn't have anywhere to be until 5 p.m., so I decided to check it out.  I'm a sucker for anything military.

So I asked again what was going on.  Fifty or sixty WWII veterans were on an "Honor Flight" and returning from Washington, D.C.  Here's what I found out:

"Honor Flight Network is a non-profit organization created solely to honor America's veterans for all their sacrifices. We transport our heroes to Washington, D.C. to visit and reflect at their memorials. Top priority is given to the senior veterans – World War II survivors, along with those other veterans who may be terminally ill."

 And they don't charge the veterans a dime.  How cool is that?

So I decided to hang around and welcome the heroes home.   The flight was delayed for an hour, but that gave me lots of time to chat people up.   I met some really great guys from the Tualatin VFW Post 3452  (who tried very enthusiastically to get me to join them for breakfast afterwards at the hall, but I declined!).  They were mostly Vietnam vets.  And when they asked what I was doing in Portland, they were terribly  impressed to meet a goat judge.  Well, who wouldn't be?

And then, here they came -- all the World War II veterans:

and everyone clapped and cheered and waved flags and I cried (just little).  Look at them.  Aren't they awesome?  God bless America!

My Day Off!!

Yippee! Today is my day off! 

Got up about 7 a.m...read the paper in bed with the hubs and some coffee...showered and got ready for the day...ate breakfast...fed the chicks...fed the goats... played ball with SamDammit...faxed tax info to Donna...put the mail out...packed my lunch and the dinner I made for Liz into the car...put the mail out...started a load of laundry....loaded the dogs into the car and went to work...saw that SamDammit had knocked over the poison bait in the back alley and may or may not have ingested some....  called Poison Control...  called the exterminator company...got NO EFFING RESPONSE... called the vet...dogs seemed okay so I called a vendor...sold some crap...wrote a purchase order...sold some more crap...called the vet back...called the health insurance about my dad...sold more crap...called my sister in re the call to the insurance (twice)...left work at 1 p.m. ...waited for the vet's call back...on vet's instructions, dosed the dogs with 1 tbs of hydrogen peroxide each to induce vomiting (looking for the green color of rat poison)...waited for dogs to vomit...watched Weiner vomit clear, yet, very foamy fluid...waited for Sam... called vet back because Sam didn't vomit...got the okay to observe SamDammit for 24 hours... whereupon in 24 minutes Sam Dammit decided to upchuck a lovely pile of clear vomit....I watered the all the plants on the back porch...changed the laundry...met Teri C at the house and went to the barn to give her a  riding lesson... upon leaving the barn at 6 p.m. noticed that Ilean had a swollen ugly hock...called the barn manager... buted Ilean with a note to call me in the a.m...drove home...picked up the mail...went to the bank...came back...fed the goats...fed the dogs...got a call from the husband...he is coming home...just started the grill to make some burgers....

Yippee!  Today is my day off!

The Travails of the Traveling Toilet Seat

I am not a terribly fussy person (I don't think).  And when it comes bathrooms -- toilets, to put it more precisely --

1.  I want it clean
2.  I want it private
3.  I want it not to move.

When we moved into this house, we put new toilets seat on all the toilets, taking care of my first requirement.  And they held up admirably for about ten years. We've been here eleven.

The privacy was a little harder to handle as a previous owner was a stained glass artist who removed two large glass panels in the master bath when she moved.  There is a gaping hole right in front of the toilet, facing a large tub.  If, while seated on the potty,  you lean forward and look  out that "window" to the right, you are able to converse with whomever is in the shower, as they have a similar large opening from the shower to the tub.  But over the last eleven years, Allan and I have managed to keep our privacy.

Now, I also like a stationary toilet seat.  Sometime in 2010, I noticed one night that the seat was loose.  So I mentioned it to Allan, who said he'd fix it. It just needed a nut.   A few months after that, as I sat down one midnight, I swiveled sharply to the left and nearly fell off.  Now the whole bolt was gone.  More mumbling, more midnight promises. 

It wasn't long after that, that when visiting the establishment, I fell right in.  There was no seat all.  Oh, wait.  Yes, there was -- it was leaning against the wall.  Louder, nastier mumbling and a  quick under-the-covers kick.

Now I had the option of going downstairs in the wee hours, or balancing delicately on a very slippery, slide-y seat to wee.  Well, over the next three months, I achieved an incredible sense of balance...before I finally went out and bought a new seat, compete with very lovely and tight bolts.....  Ahhh, heaven.

Except for that whole privacy thing...

**Now some of you may wonder why Allan didn't fix the bolt or why I just didn't do it myself.  Our bedroom is on the second floor, so we usually just use a spare bathroom on the first floor: Until bed time.  Sometime between the hours of midnight and 5 a.m., I would often feel a need to visit the potty.  Due to anatomy, I am the chief "sitter" in the house. I'd sit, spin, stumble back to bed, and mumble to please fix the damn seat.  Of course, we'd forget by the time the alarm went off.

If you were to take these two

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Four great friends having a wonderful time.

'Nuf said.

Hmmm

The other day I was thinking.  I am subject to bursts of random thoughts - often nonsensical, but entertaining (at least to me).  So this particular day, I was thinking about my animals and got to wondering:  If I were to pick real-life celebrities who would best embody the spirit and personalities of my animals, I wonder who I'd pick for which animals...

 I kind of have to start with Cleo, herd queen extraordinaire:

and I'm going with Queen Latifah. 
Cleo does not let her size hold her back, preferring to think of herself as "statuesque."   Cleo is a permanent grand champion doe, winning her first grand at the age of 5 and finishing as a 7 year-old. 

Cleo may have lost her girlish figure, but she still sense of humor.  

 And she never seems to tire of enthusiastic applause.

In fact, she sometimes come looking for it.

  Cleo definitely deserves to be considered a queen.

*Tomorrow's blog -- Patsy is definitely Shirley Temple...

When Pygs Fly

 

**********the end************

Sit, Sam, Sit

Good dog, Sam